by Kali Willows
Gwen called over her shoulder. “Great to see you again, Ms. Harlot—I mean, Ms. Harlan. Good luck on your big day tomorrow, and after that. Lord knows, you’re gonna need it.”
“That was—” Cindy followed her into the lobby.
“Awesome. I haven’t felt so good in years.”
“After everything he’s done to you, he got off easy.”
***
“I’m glad you let me stick around. You’re gorgeous.” Cindy fussed with Gwen’s auburn tendrils, draping them down her back while she watched in the mirror.
“Thanks for being here and helping me get ready.”
“Are you nervous?” She dabbed blush over Gwen’s cheekbones.
“The butterflies in my stomach are doing jumping jacks, but I’m excited.”
“Where are you meeting them?”
“Downstairs in the lounge.” She grabbed her lipstick then moved over to the full-length mirror on the closet door to inspect her mocha bandage dress. Running her fingers along the crisscross block pattern, she winced. The outfit revealed more cleavage than she remembered seeing when she bought it.
“If you run into Jamison tonight, he’ll bust a gut.”
“Good. I hope it hurts.”
“Stop fussing with your dress. It’s perfect.”
Gwen smoothed the maroon lipstick over her lips and paused, staring at her reflection.
“What is it?” Cindy came up beside her.
“Nothing, it’s just that, it never occurred to me that I would ever sleep with another man. I thought I’d found the one.” She held up her ring finger and studied the telltale strip of pale skin.
“You’re gonna have a great time.”
“Thanks, Cin. Hey, you could get a peek at them downstairs.”
“I like that idea. Then I can spend the rest of my night romanticizing about your fantasy come true.” Cindy pouted.
“Honey—”
“I’m fine, just envious.”
“Do you want me to share tonight?” She chuckled. “After all, I have two.”
“Of course not.” Cindy grinned. “Let’s get down there. I can’t wait to see what they look like. Are you coming back here?”
“Madame Evangeline booked us into a guest house on the grounds. It’s described as secluded and unusual.”
“I suppose with all that bumping and grinding, you could use more privacy than accommodations in the main building would give.”
“I imagine so.” A twinge of anxiety settled in her stomach. “Anyway, I just realized that means you don’t need to get another room. You can stay here. There’s an incredible view of the falls out from the terrace.” Gwen glanced over at the sheer curtain flowing in from the open glass door.
“How will you know who they are?”
“Madame Eve’s message said they would have a champagne rose for me.”
Chapter Four
Gwen felt daring and ready. She took a seat at the bar, swinging her legs as she contemplated what to order.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Cindy plopped into a leather armchair by the fireplace on the other side of the lounge. The deep mahogany and dark brown furnishings were accented by soft lighting and ambient jazz music playing, a perfect atmosphere for a discreet rendezvous.
“What can I get for you, miss?” A pretty blonde in a white shirt and apron stood behind the counter.
“I suppose a white wine spritzer?”
“Coming right up.”
She scanned the room for two men with a rose, but only saw a few couples and, of course, Cindy. The crowd seemed sparse for cocktail hour. Returning her focus to her friend, Gwen saw her eyes widen.
What? She mouthed.
“Did you get all dolled up for me?” The heat of his breath on her shoulder made her recoil.
“Where is your bride-to-be?” She didn’t turn around. Gwen looked back to Cindy’s frightened stare, and casually held her palm up. She hoped to avoid a scene, but if it got bad, she’d use her backup.
“Here’s your drink ma'am.” The server pushed the wine glass across the bar.
“Thank you.” Pulling some cash from her purse, she laid it on the counter, ready to make her getaway.
Intrusive, as always, Jamison put one arm across the back of her chair and the other on the bar, speaking in the seductive tone she had grown to hate. “Katrina’s busy for a while; can your husband buy you a drink?”
“Ex-husband, and no, you can’t.” Lifting her glass to sip, she hoped he’d take the hint, but he pulled up a stool beside her. “Have you forgotten about the restraining order?”
“That’s just a piece of paper, love.” Alcohol lingered on his breath when he spoke close to her ear. “Damn, you look good tonight, sweet enough to eat.” He ogled her, making her stomach turn.
“You’re drunk. Get away from me.” She set her glass down and eased away from him.
“Come on, baby. For old times’ sake?” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder while digging his fingers into her thigh with bruising force.
“Get your filthy paws off me, Jamison.” She tried to shove his hand away.
“You’re gonna play hard to get, huh?” His presumption sent a charge of anger through her, and she peeled his fingers off her leg. Laughing, he slid it up her back to her neck.
“I know you’re here because of the wedding. You wanted one last chance to get me back. Maybe celebrate your birthday with a good round or two?” His arrogant words fueled her frustration, but she had no desire to lose control in a public place.
“Get your hands off me, or so help me….” Clenching her fists, she contained the simmering eruption.
“So help you what Gwen? Hmm, what are you gonna do?”
Gwen gasped when he tangled his fingers in the fine hairs at the base of her neck and tugged, his actions hidden by her long waves. She looked for the server, but she had stepped out to tend customers in the lounge.
Jamison’s wrapped his other hand around her wrist, so tight it felt as though he could snap it like a twig. He had become quite skilled at hiding his aggressive tendencies in public; he did have years of experience.
“Maybe we should go for a little walk.” He stood, dragging her to her feet and using his fingers tangled in her hair to guide her toward the door.
Terrified, she looked to Cindy.
Help me? She mouthed. Her friend had stood up, but remained by her chair. A confused expression marring her features, she tugged at her foot, the heel of her shoe had caught in a groove in the hardwood floor. He’s going teach me a lesson for the car door incident. If I defend myself, I’ll end up killing him this time. I can’t react. Oh God, what do I do? But she had no choice—fists clenched; she prepared to free herself at all costs.
“Excuse me, Gwen?”
Jamison’s grip loosened, but he kept his hand on her arm and his hold on her hair while he turned around with her.
“I’m sorry I’m late honey, I got caught up in traffic. What’s going on here?” The dark haired stranger wore a fierce expression as he stepped closer to them and handed Gwen a champagne rose.
She accepted the bloom with relief. “Nothing at all. He’s just leaving.”
Jade green eyes glowed against his tanned complexion and black, shoulder-length hair, presenting an exotic, Asian appearance.
But Jamison hadn’t let go yet. “Who the hell are you?”
“My date.” She pried his fingers out of her hair, overwhelmed by the strangeness of the situation.
“Jamison, what are you doing down here? I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” Katrina slouched in the doorway wrapped in a frumpy, long coat. With her arms folded over her chest and her disheveled locks of platinum hair pulled back into an unkempt bun, she looked like a train wreck. From her expression, she had deduced her fiancé’s intentions in regard to his ex. He’d have a hard time talking himself out of the doghouse the night before their wedding.
Finally, Jamison released her wrist and her hair
and stepped back. The mystery man held out his hand and Gwen accepted. He tugged her closer and slid his arm around her waist.
Encompassed by safety and drawn in by the tantalizing fragrance of spicy lavender and amber, she whispered, “Is that Drakkar I smell?”
“Yes, it is.” He lifted his chin and tilted his head, inviting her to indulge. Enchanted, Gwen took in a long, savoring whiff.
With a final, confused glance over his shoulder, Jamison followed Katrina out, and Gwen’s shoulders drooped in relief. Over by the fireplace, Cindy sat down and lifted her glass of wine with a quirky smile. Gwen focused again on her savior. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get you a drink.” A smoldering grin lit his handsome face.
“You’re—?” Forcing long breaths in and out, she tried to calm down.
“I’m Tatsu.”
As knights in shining armor go…damn, he’s hot.
He led her to a booth and sat her down. He obtained a baggie of ice from the barmaid and returned to apply it to her bruised wrist.
“Better now?”
Such kind eyes.
“Yes, thank you.” She studied him with fascination, as he tended to her discomfort with a gentle touch.
“It doesn’t seem broken, but maybe we should get it checked, just to be safe.”
“I’m fine, it’s not broken.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve had bro—” she caught herself in mid-disclosure, not wanting to reveal too much of her rocky past. “I’m okay. If it still hurts later, I’ll get it treated.”
“All right.”
Gwen scanned the lounge. “Weren’t there supposed to be two of you?”
“My brother will be here soon. He went to drop our things off at the guest house. Our train arrived late, and we didn’t want to leave you waiting.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.” He laughed.
“Hey, what did I miss?”
Am I seeing double? A second man slid into the curved booth on her other side.
“Hi, Gwen, I’m Yong.”
“How do you do?” She held out her free hand.
He took it, pressing his lips to the back. “Very well, thank you.” He focused on her bruised wrist, concern darkening his luminescent green eyes. “Is it broken?”
“We don’t think so,” Tatsu said.
“I’m all right, I just—” Embarrassment washed over her. It had been bad enough when one of them saw what happened, but to explain to the other?
“I know. It’s okay, Gwen.” Yong caressed her bare shoulder.
“You know?” Her eyes darted back and forth. When would Tatsu have had time to tell him? Yong’s touch made logical thought difficult anyway.
“Being twins, we have sort of a link, a connection.” Tatsu glared at him.
Gwen didn’t understand what he meant, but she was fascinated by everything about the pair. “That’s pretty amazing, like twin telepathy.” She settled into the cushioned seat.
Tatsu and Yong spent the next hour drawing Gwen out, asking her about her life, her likes and dislikes—and her failed marriage. She answered in monosyllables, dazed by their smoldering eyes and the extreme warmth she experienced sitting between them.
“So, you were married to him for ten years?”
“Yong!” Tatsu scolded.
“What?”
“No, really, it’s okay.” She patted Tatsu’s leather-clad arm, giving him a reassuring grin. “I don’t mind sharing some history. A little intimacy tonight would be a good thing.”
Tatsu nodded.
“In answer to your question, a very long ten years.” She flexed her tender wrist under the table, trying not to remember the other injuries she’d sustained in that decade.
“How long have you been divorced?”
“I left him six months ago.”
“He was a fool, letting you go.” Tatsu took her left hand from his arm, held it in front of him, and stroked the back of it with gentle fingers.
“I can’t argue with that.” She giggled, ready to put the past behind her for the night.
“His loss is our good fortune, brother.” Yong reached under the table, and collected her right hand, and pressed his lips to the backs of her fingers.
Desire swept through her.
“I—uh….” How can I suggest we head back to the room without sounding overeager?
“Gwen, would you care to join us at the guest house?”
“Tatsu, you must have been reading my mind,” she replied, relieved and a bit puzzled. Had he read her mind? Of course not!
While Tatsu headed over to the bar to pay for their drinks, Yong stood at her side and extended his hand to help her to her feet.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, my lady.” He held her coat up while she slipped her arms into the sleeves, and then fastened the extra-large buttons with slow deliberation. Gwen wanted to step even closer to him; their gravitational pull was phenomenal.
“Okay, I think we’re all set.” Tatsu returned, and they headed through the lobby, each man holding one of Gwen’s hands. Approaching the revolving doors, she paused, pulling the men to a stop. Katrina stood at the concierge desk next to a luggage rack piled with bulging suitcases, a bit of beaded white fabric protruding from the one on top.
“I don’t care. I want my limo now.”
“What is it?” Yong asked.
Katrina spun to face her. No amount of high-end foundation or eye makeup could conceal Jamison’s handiwork. Memories came flooding back. Despite her dislike of the woman, Gwen couldn’t see another of his victims suffer without someone to lend a hand. Without Cindy, she didn’t know what she would have done.
“Excuse me for one minute, gentlemen.” Gwen sighed and approached the trembling woman.
“Are you all right, Katrina?”
“Do I look all right?” The blonde’s puffy cheeks and tear-swollen eyes belied her fierce tone.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” she said, tipping her chin up. “Where is my God damn limo?”
A frustrated doorman clutched her arm. “But, Ms. Harlan, the police are on their way. You can’t leave.”
She shrugged him off. “The hell I can’t.”
“Look, Katrina.” Gwen gripped her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “I understand exactly what you’re feeling right now, but if you let him get away with it once, it’s only going to get worse if you ever take him back. And I’m sure you know how persuasive Jamison can be.”
“Since when do you care? I recall something along the lines of good luck, you’re gonna need it. Sounds to me like you think I got what I deserved.” Half shouting and half crying, she remained straight-backed and stiff-shouldered
“I’m really sorry I was such a smartass. No one deserves to be abused. Not you, not me…no one.”
Tears began to stream down Katrina’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.
“Tell the cops everything. Don’t try to protect him and don’t take him back.”
“The wedding—”
“—your life is more important.”
Gwen sucked in a deep breath and took a step back. Slowly, she lifted her mass of curls to reveal the deep scar behind her right ear. “I’ve been hiding this since the night he did it to me.”
Katrina stared.
“It could have been a lot worse tonight. Don’t make the same mistake I did and let him do it more than once. It almost got me killed.”
Gwen hugged her, wanting her to have some warmth on such an awful day. Katrina didn’t respond, but that didn’t matter.
“You’ll survive. Sic your dad on him—or your brother. Do you have a brother?” At her nod, Gwen smiled. “And file that police report. I wish I had the first time.” She offered a soft smile and walked away with a sense of relief, and in large part, forgiveness.
“Is everything okay?” Tatsu’s concerned expression stood in s
tark contrast to what her past relationships had led her to expect from a man.
“Better now. Let’s go.”
Yong stopped short. “I almost forgot, the guest house room keycard wasn’t working properly. I’d better have them check it while we’re still here.” He approached the concierge and Tatsu made to follow.
“Tatsu, while you deal with that, I’ll just use the restroom, all right?” She pointed across the lobby.
“Sure, we’ll meet you here.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. Her stomach fluttered at the warmth of his lips.
“Five minutes. I’ll be right back.”
Gwen followed the ladies room signs down the hallway, giddy with excitement. Two men, all to myself? Their eyes, their handsome faces, I can’t wait to see what’s under their leather jackets.
As she pushed on the door, she was dragged backward by a large hand around her chest. Another clamped over her mouth. Kicking and flailing, she clutched at the fingers, trying to pry them away.
“Shut up.” Shit. She knew that voice.
Jamison dragged her out the door at the end of the hall. The heels of her stiletto boots scraped across the threshold and onto the hardness of the snow-covered ground as she kicked.
“Stop fighting bitch.” His grip tightened; the vicious force against her ribcage grew as his fingertips burrowed deep into her side. The familiar sour odor of his breath filled her nose as he pressed his stubbly cheek against hers.
He shoved her away and she landed on her side with a painful thud. The sharpness of the crystallized snow dug into her hips and thighs. She scrambled to her feet. “Jamison, what the hell is your problem?” A spark ignited inside her, the rising heat overtaking her pain.
“Did you think I was gonna forget the car door?” He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her back to face him. She teetered, trying to balance as her heels sank into the slippery snow.
She grabbed his fist and pushed down on his knuckles, ducking down and pulling free. He grabbed her by the throat and she stomped on his foot with her spiked heel and shot her fists up between his elbows and out. She stumbled back, the palms of her hands burning hot. Buzzing filled her ears. Sound faded, and her vision became a wash of red.