by Em Petrova
She pulled off the oversized T-shirt she slept in and reached for her bra and panties. The small wardrobe she’d acquired was just enough to get her through several disguises, and she wasn’t going to spend money on needless items when she could be saving for her escape.
Her thoughts shot her back to the problem of finding Antonio, the only thing holding her to this godforsaken city where she was being hunted. What if she did return to Nuit and run into Chaz? Would she be able to question him in a way that would help her decide if he could help her? She wasn’t trained in the arts of interrogation but she’d interviewed workers after her daddy handed over some duties on the plantation to her.
Then again, if she wasn’t able to ask the right questions, she’d tip somebody off about her motives, someone who might figure out her true identity.
The idea that person could be the insanely handsome Chaz Knight had her chewing her fingernails. Chaz didn’t seem like somebody under her father’s employ, or anybody he’d call friend.
With a sigh, she tucked in her simple white silky camisole into black cropped slacks and fluffed out her hair. The red curls still shocked her when she caught a glimpse of her reflection, though the look was growing on her. She liked it better than the blonde, and more shocking than the color change for the second time was the fact that she was slowly emerging into a new person. As of yet, she didn’t know if she liked her.
She slipped on her only pair of black heels and headed out of the motel room, locking the door behind her. She’d taken steps to keep her cash winnings safe and placed her lock box inside of a small safe to deter any theft, though it would be easy to carry it away too. Still, she couldn’t risk being sorry she hadn’t taken enough precautions.
When she arrived at the door of Nuit and flashed a business card that served as invitation, the guard gave her a once-over and shot her a grin. “Have a good evening, miss.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” She passed by him through the door he held open for her, slipping into the familiar atmosphere. The only time she could really drop some of her act was while playing cards.
As she moved through the crowded tables, men she remembered being here before greeted her. Whether or not they recognized this new woman with red hair, smoky eyes and red lipstick, she had no clue, but since women didn’t frequent Nuit, they probably did. She was taking a risk just to run into Chaz.
She headed straight for her usual table and nearly toppled off her high heels as she set eyes on the rugged man seated there already.
Chaz.
The name invited something warm inside her, something she had no room for at this time in her life. Lusting after all those muscles and the way he’d taken control the night they’d met was one thing but she’d found herself thinking too long on the man.
He looked up then, as if feeling her gaze on him. His eyes seemed to burn into her and if she stood there much longer, she’d be scorched. His square jaw was darkened with stubble seemed to amp up the heat, eliciting a short gasp she quickly tamped down.
A waitress stopped to ask if she wanted a drink and Fleur shook her head, continuing to her usual table. At her approach, Chaz stood and held out a chair for her. He leaned in too close to say, “Nice hair. I’ve been holding this seat for you.”
Her stomach fluttered. “Did you feel like losing to me tonight?”
At that, he laughed, a deep, low chuckle that left her at a complete loss for words.
She sank to the chair and he scooted it beneath her in the manner of a true Southern gentleman. Who was this man anyway?
She shot him a look from the corner of her eye. Two small bandages were on his neck, far too low to be a shaving cut. Besides, he hadn’t shaved.
In fact, they were right over his pulse point.
Warning bells sounded in her brain, but she didn’t dare leave now. If he was the type to run in dark circles, then he’d know how to find Antonio and she needed him.
He stared at the contents of his whiskey swirling in the shot glass he held. “If you’re wondering about my injury, I can only assure you I’m fine.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “I couldn’t care less.”
“Ah.” Amusement tilted his lips. “So we’re going to banter again. Good—I missed it. But I expected more from you since…” He broke off and looked into her eyes, piercing her like a dagger through her chest and spearing her to the chair back.
She looked away. Then on second thought looked back. She didn’t want to push him too far away if he had information to share.
“I enjoyed our meal the other night,” she said.
“But you ran out quickly.”
She didn’t have a response so she flagged down the waitress to get her a soda water for her suddenly dry throat. Her pulse was tripping—at Chaz’s nearness and how wet he made her panties.
Dammit.
She didn’t need to have this kind of reaction to the man. She didn’t need her nipples to harden into hard cherries when he gave her that long look. She—
Wait. Maybe her body was actually the smart one here. More than one man had slipped and given information during pillow-talk. And it wasn’t a hardship to think of slipping between the sheets with Chaz. She’d get what she wanted in two ways.
On impulse, she reached out and skimmed her fingers over the bandages on his throat. “Did you come back to Nuit just to question my motives in leaving the diner?”
He caught her hand, trapping her fingers so fast that it stunned her. His reflexes were far beyond any mortal men she knew. She swallowed hard at his warm, firm grip and dark eyes flaying her wide open.
“Didn’t your maman ever teach you not to touch a wild animal?” His eyes took on a teasing glint as he drew her fingers upward to his full mouth. She stared at his lips. Watching the extremely erotic, extremely intimate brush of his mouth over her fingers. Need spiked in her and then he released her hand.
She balled it in her lap, burning with the urge to keep this up but afraid to play games with a man like Chaz Knight, who was obviously far savvier than her in… well, everything besides running a plantation. She might have some clues about how to motivate workers, but Chaz wasn’t just any man.
She was given her soda water, which she lifted to her lips and sipped slowly to keep from choking. Then the game began and she focused on her hand. Or tried to, at least.
Chaz shifted in his seat. Then again. After the third time, she glanced at him. “Are you uncomfortable, Mr. Knight?”
“Chaz to you, and yes, I am a little uncomfortable. But it’s all because of you.”
Her eyes flew open wide and she stared into his heavy gaze. The hot, bold lust on his face was only there a split second before he concealed it behind a mask again and made his play.
Her mind whirled. She ached to glance under the table at his groin to see if his discomfort had to do with a bulge in his pants but couldn’t. Though her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.
He groaned.
She glanced his way.
“Your move,” he said with a tight smile that was nearly a grimace.
She made her move and went out with one of the luckiest hands she’d ever been dealt. The hearts stared up at her, almost mocking, telling her to act on her instincts and take this man to bed.
Well, not her bed in the motel.
He took one look at her hand and stood so abruptly his chair scraped across the floor. She looked at the dealer. “Record my winnings for me, would you?”
Then she got up too.
Chaz grabbed her by the arm, his callused hand rougher than she remembered, and he steered her through the tables back to the exit and onto the sidewalk.
Before she could think of what she was doing or what to say, he spun her to face him. His chest so broad, so near that her nipples brushed against his starched black shirt.
Her breaths came faster.
This was her move.
Boldly, she slid her hand between them to cup the front of his pants and sure e
nough, there wasn’t just any normal bulge there. Her mouth opened on an O of surprise.
“Yeah, I’m big. But this isn’t how you get what you want, is it, Rose?” He moved her hand away from his groin and kept hold of it. Was it her imagination or had he emphasized her name? And had he meant for it to sound as if he didn’t believe it?
“Chaz.”
“I won’t pretend that I don’t want you, because I fucking do.” His voice was low, burning, sending her into quivers of desperation. “But I won’t take you.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I won’t take a woman to bed that I don’t know.”
She eyed him. “Men don’t say things like that.”
“I do.”
She could drop her pretenses and break for it or she could see if he might give her the information she needed and had no idea how to get.
She turned her hand against his, palm to palm, and looked up into his eyes. “You know me well enough. We already had a date.”
His throat worked on a swallow. “What game are you playing?”
She fought to keep from jerking in his hold. “No games. You said you want me, and what if I want you back?”
Something slid in the depths of his eyes.
“I need to ask you some questions but not here,” he said.
Her heart jolted. What could he want? Part of her worried he was sent by her father and she couldn’t trust her judgment of character anymore. But she’d been hiding out too long already, and she had to take some action. Hopefully, it was the right one.
“Where then?” she asked almost breathlessly.
He looked up over her head as if scanning the streets or the map of his mind. “C’mon.” He grabbed her hand and started walking. She had no choice but to follow. He was acting so oddly.
His powerful body moving next to hers, each long stride he took, all kept her body at a fever pitch. He threw off danger and strength in waves, and she hated to admit it, but she fell for guys like that every time. With a powerful father, she gravitated to men who could make things happen.
And Chaz most certainly was that man. She could only imagine how he’d make things happen in bed.
He turned a corner, pulling her around with him. Then he pointed. “That’s my bike. Can you ride?”
She faltered and her heel dragged on a crack on the sidewalk. He held her elbow to keep her upright.
“Is that a no?” he asked.
She wasn’t worried about the actual ride so much as getting on a bike with a stranger in the dead of night. For a second, she considered taking him to the motel. What would it matter? She could leave tonight.
“We can walk to my place,” she said.
He stared down at her, the streetlamp casting his hair in an orangey-gold light. “Fine, neither then. This way.”
He took her to a bakery storefront. Sometimes she came here for a pastry and coffee just to treat herself to a reminder of the life she’d known. During the day, small tables and chairs sat here under the black-and-white striped awning. But now, those were tucked inside.
He drew her beneath the awning, and suddenly she thought about kissing him. His lips on hers—would they be hard or soft?
She shook herself. The spot was causing this extreme sense of intimacy. It wasn’t real.
“I know where you live,” he said at once.
She blinked. “You… followed me?” Her throat closed off and now she wanted to smack him rather than kiss him. Or maybe both?
“I had to make sure you were safe.”
A puff of air left her. “You’re him, aren’t you?”
He drew up straighter and stared at her hard. “Him?”
Oh God, she was horribly wrong. This man was far too smart for her to be dealing in such a game.
She backed up. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.” She walked the first few steps and then took off running, moving through the darkened streets like the waif she’d become, sticking close to the shadows and straining hard to hear his footsteps behind her. She heard none.
Her heart tripped heavily in her chest and she couldn’t slow down to examine why she suddenly felt so much more alone.
* * * * *
Chaz let her go but it took everything in him to remain standing beneath the awning and not give chase. To grab her and sweep her up in his arms and tell her that whatever shit she was involved in, he could put an end to it.
Besides, he wanted to look at her more. Hell, stare at her all night. The change from a blonde to a redhead had him aching with the need to dig into what was developing into more of an intrigue than any of them expected. And that look of fear in her blue eyes ignited his basic instinct to protect.
After tonight’s crazy talk, she had no idea what she was doing either. She’d gone from her cool, aloof act to throwing herself at him.
Fuck, she’d grabbed his fucking dick, for fuck’s sake.
Now he was putting too many curses into a sentence just like his brother Ben.
He dragged all his fingers through his hair, feeling the tug on his scalp. He had to go after her.
He walked slowly back to his bike and then swung his leg over the machine. Some tipsy women were moving his way down the sidewalk and they stopped as he started the engine.
“This your bike?” one woman asked in a slurred voice.
Man, this was why he hated women who couldn’t hold their liquor. They asked dumb questions.
He gave a terse nod.
“A hot man on a hot bike needs a hot woman.” She trailed her fingers over her thigh, hiking up her skirt so he saw… well, everything. She wasn’t wearing panties.
Shaking his head, he pulled away from the curb and hammered the gas. Speeding away from women like that who always seemed to find him. And if he was honest, normally he’d jump at an opportunity like that.
It only took seconds to reach the motel. When he cast a glance at Fleur’s door, he found it dark.
Then he realized she hadn’t reached the motel yet. Or she hadn’t planned to come here at all.
Dammit, he shouldn’t have let her go alone. He might never find her again. Then Jackson would hand him his balls.
Just then he saw the door open and Fleur’s red head pop out. She had a bag that appeared to be stuffed full. Probably with money.
He got off his bike and strode to her before she understood what was happening. He took her by the arms and bore her back inside, kicking the door shut behind them.
The place was dark, leaving his sense of hearing acute. Her breaths came in harsh rasps.
“You’re running,” he stated.
“Get out of my room.”
“Looks like you’re leaving it, so that makes this room open. We’re going to borrow it.” He reached out and found the light switch. When he flicked it on, they stood in a halo of ugly fluorescent light. It made the hollows beneath Fleur’s eyes stand out and her skin take on a sickly pallor.
Slowly, he reached out and took the bag from her. She let it slide into his grasp, and the bag thumped against his thigh, along with something hard and blocky inside. This woman was an enigma from the tips of her fake red hair to the spikes of her very classy high heels.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked straight up.
It shouldn’t surprise him that she lifted her jaw and met his gaze squarely. “I made a mistake.”
“Dammit, I’m not going to hurt you. Actually, my job gives me certain instincts that tell me when something is wrong. And the moment I met you, I guessed you were hiding from something—someone—and I feel this insane, driving need to protect you.” His words came out with a force he couldn’t stop. It was too late to pull them back. All he could do was watch fear crash over her face. And hate himself for keeping up the pretense that he already didn’t know too much of her story.
Instead of fear, her jaw dropped and relief slid over her beautiful features.
“I’m…” She faltered and then lifted her jaw again. “I’m looking for a man name
d Antonio. He has something I need.”
His chest scorched. What the hell was she tangled up in? Guns? Drugs? His alarms weren’t tripping at all, and he’d seen plenty of both with Knight Ops.
He set down the bag carefully and reached for her shoulders. On their own, his hands slid up her neck and under the strands of her curled hair to cradle her head. Fuck, she was so delicate.
“If I was looking for a man like that, I’d definitely be talking to me,” he said.
“Why?” she asked, eyes too unnaturally blue.
“Because I can find things out. Rose, tell me what’s going on. I’m drawn to help you, so let me.”
At that, she dropped her stare to his mouth for a long heartbeat and then bowed her head. A tear dropped from her eyes and landed on the toe of his boot.
He made a sound in his throat that was close to a growl and pulled her against him. And fuck if she didn’t fit his body to perfection, her curves molding to him in all the right places. He cupped the back of her head.
“I’m in trouble,” she pushed out.
“Go on.”
“Some people are after me.”
Fuck, he hated this. Hated she was in hiding and alone.
She let out a rasping breath and dragged in another.
“Do you know who these people after you are?” he asked.
In a small voice, she said, “Yes.”
“You mentioned needing something from Antonio.”
“A bag.”
Shit.
“Are you supposed to get the bag for the people who are after you? Is it some kind of trade?” he asked.
“No. I’m looking for him for my own reasons.”
This line of questioning wasn’t giving him the answers he needed. But how to get her to trust him enough to spill her entire story to him?
He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. The rumpled bedspread was ugly as hell, but he knew the sheets would smell like her. The thought went straight to his groin and landed a dark, stirring need there.
This was beyond her abilities to handle. He was damn good as assessing people and knew she couldn’t get herself out of such a situation—she needed manpower.