by Childs, Lisa
Like Dominic was a failure. Did he find nothing but fault with his twin?
Taylor could find nothing but fault with Roderick Rowe. He was definitely not as good looking or sexy as his twin. No. Dominic really should have been the actor. But he appeared to be struggling just to play along with her. How would he survive the weekend?
How would she? His closeness was affecting her – was making her body heat up and tingle...everywhere. Her clit pulsed with need. Her nipples pushed against the cups of her bra. She’d only just brushed her lips across his, but she wanted more. More of a kiss...
More of Dominic Rowe.
“I don’t want to make it big,” Dominic said with a shudder. “I just want to make art.”
Roderick shook his head again. “I don’t get you at all, little bro. You still afraid of the paparazzi? Come on, you have to know there is no such thing as bad press.”
“Is that why you tipped them off to your wedding?” Dominic asked.
Roderick’s face flushed but then he shrugged. “There aren’t any reporters in the hotel.”
Taylor suspected that was only because St. Bart’s Inn refused to allow them entry. The establishment had built their reputation on being discreet.
“I saw some reporters hanging out in the parking lot,” Dominic said, his voice gruff with distaste as if reporters were axe murderers or degenerates.
“Don’t worry, little bro,” Roderick patronizingly assured him, “that’s as close as they’ll get to the wedding ceremony.”
Courtney nodded. “That’s true. We really don’t want any unauthorized photos of this weekend.”
Probably because she wanted to screen them, so that they were all flattering, before she sold them herself. Was that why she’d starved herself? So she looked good on her wedding day? Because she definitely looked starved. Taylor couldn’t wait until she managed to take some photos. But that would only happen if Dominic didn’t force her to leave.
“It’s going to be a wild weekend,” Roderick said with a chuckle. And he had the audacity to wink at Taylor – right in front of his bride-to-be and his brother.
She barely suppressed a shudder of revulsion.
“You’re going to have to be separable for at least some of the weekend,” he said, his grin widening. “For the bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“When are those?” Taylor asked.
Courtney hooked her arm through Roderick’s and tugged him back from the door of Room #601. “The bachelorette party is going to be just me and my friends, you know...”
“She’s my brother’s girlfriend,” Roderick said. “Of course she’s invited to your bachelorette party.”
Courtney lowered her voice but not so low that they couldn’t clearly hear her whisper, “She’s a stranger.”
“Oh, don’t feel like you have to include me,” Taylor said. “If you’d rather I not attend the bachelorette party...” She paused and looked up at Dominic with a big, flirty grin. “...I can always crash the bachelor party.” She narrowed her eyes as if she was jealous. “That way I can make sure no strippers steal my man away.”
Or, actually, she could get pictures of the famous groom frolicking with exotic dancers. Those would sell for a very high price.
“There aren’t going to be any strippers,” Courtney protested, but she was looking at her fiancé as she made the claim.
Of course there were going to be strippers. Roderick Rowe was more famous for his hedonist lifestyle than he was for his mediocre acting. His only roles had been as the idiot friend or the obnoxious frat boy or the cheating boyfriend; probably because none of those had been much of a stretch for him. And, of course, he’d played his father’s son in some shows. That wasn’t a stretch either. He was very much like his famous father at least as a hedonist; he was not as talented an actor.
Would their father be attending the wedding? If she could catch him with an exotic dancer, she’d make even more money off the photos, and she would do Aunt Mattie proud.
“No strippers?” Roderick scoffed as he shot his fiancée a teasing grin. “Then do you want me to cancel the male ones your maid of honor ordered for your bachelorette party?”
Her pale face flushed, but her thin lips curved into a slight smile. And she shrugged.
“If you don’t, you need to make nice with my brother’s girlfriend,” he said, and now all the teasing was gone. His blue eyes and his voice were hard as he unequivocally stated, “She’s coming to your party.”
“Very well,” Courtney said as if she’d actually had a choice. “Now we really need to go meet up with the wedding party...”
Roderick nodded. But he didn’t let her tug him down the hall until he gave Taylor another long, lascivious look. When he finally walked away, she shuddered in revulsion.
Dominic chuckled at her reaction to his brother. Then he closed the door and studied her. Wouldn’t she be used to someone looking at her like that given her career choice? Taylor intrigued him as no other woman ever had.
She was studying him with the same curiosity. “Aren’t you in the wedding party?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I wasn’t asked.”
“Maybe Michelle was wrong and they actually do possess a little human decency,” she murmured.
And he laughed. She really was close friends with his sister.
“Well, it would have been awkward for you,” she said. “To stand up for the guy who’d stolen your girlfriend who just so happens to be the bride.”
Dominic was beginning to see the humor in the situation. “I could have been the one to walk her down the aisle and give her away. I have practice since I did that once already.”
Taylor laughed now. “That would have been really awkward.”
“Probably not any more awkward than my plus one for the wedding being a working girl.”
The smile left her face. Maybe he’d offended her. Though, given her line of work, she must have been used to that – once people found out what she did.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head and her silky blond hair swept around her sexy shoulders. “You won’t be,” she assured him. So she must have not been offended at all, just surprised, which she revealed when she asked, “You’re really going to let me stay?”
He sighed. “Now that they’ve seen you, I have to.” He could just imagine the ribbing his brother would give him if he let Taylor slip away from him. Not that he had her...
She was just doing her job.
“It could be awkward explaining why you made me leave,” she agreed with a flirtatious sparkle in her deep blue eyes. “That you were afraid you might get arrested.”
He sucked in a breath. He wasn’t certain that wasn’t still a distinct possibility. “Don’t you worry about that?” And because she obviously knew his sister well, he added, “Doesn’t Michelle?”
“Like I said, no money has exchanged hands,” she said. “There is no crime.”
“Not this time,” he agreed. But there had to be other times that money had been exchanged. Or else why would she do it? What was in it for her? Michelle didn’t need the money, though, and yet she was still in this business. Hell, she was running this business. He just didn’t understand.
She stepped closer and leaned in, so that her breath whispered across his throat as she murmured, “So don’t worry about it...”
He couldn’t help it. He was worried. And not just about the possibility of getting arrested or of Taylor or Michelle getting arrested. He was worried that he was entirely too attracted to his call girl. Her nearness affected him, had his cock hardening and pressing against the fly of his jeans. “Taylor...”
But before he could say whatever he might have come up with, the door rattled from the pounding of a fist. He groaned. Who the hell could it be this time? The police?
“Quick,” Taylor said in an urgent whisper, “take off your clothes!”
“What?”
Before he could even process wh
at she was suggesting, she was helping him – her fingers undoing the button of his jeans before reaching for the tab of the zipper. He caught her hand in his, stopping her before she found how hard she already had him.
“You need to take off your clothes,” she insisted. “Now!”
Maybe it was the urgency in her voice or maybe it was just that he wanted to, but even with someone pounding at the door, Dominic found himself obeying her and stripping off his clothes.
Chapter Three
May 15
Mid-afternoon
So now my brother thinks I am a real madam. I probably should be concerned about that but instead I am amused. I am also disappointed he won’t let FANTASY ENTERTAINMENT and Taylor help him get through this wedding. No matter what he says, I know that it bothers him that rotten Roddy and Courtney the...
I am too much of a lady to write what I really think of Dominic’s ex-girlfriend. But I am glad that she is his ex. He deserves someone better – someone like Taylor who would balance his shyness and is so independent she would not mind when he is preoccupied with his art.
But if he won’t let her stay for the wedding, then there’s no way he will ever get to know Taylor beyond her undercover call girl disguise. Of course that might be a good thing because if he finds out she’s actually a reporter...
The cell vibrated again on Michelle’s desktop. Relief had her smiling as she clicked the accept and speaker buttons and said, “I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind...” At least she hoped he had. And if not, at least she had another opportunity to talk him into letting Taylor stay.
She’d assumed Dominic was calling her back, but his wasn’t the deep voice that replied, “I haven’t changed my mind about you at all.”
Her feeling of relief changed to one of excitement as she lowered her already husky voice even more and said, “Detective Butler, I thought you’d forgotten all about me...”
“I wish that I could,” he murmured.
“So I’m unforgettable,” she teased, “and we haven’t even met.”
“We can change that,” he suggested. “I’d love to meet you.”
She uttered a husky, little sigh. “I would if I could trust that you wouldn’t slap the cuffs on me, Detective.”
“I thought that might be something you enjoyed,” he replied.
And her heart jumped that he was flirting back with her.
“You have the wrong impression of me, Detective.” Far more than he knew.
“So you’re just an old fashioned girl?”
She laughed, not in irony, but that he was right. He would never believe that she was quite old fashioned. She believed that the man should be the one to pursue the woman, not the other way around. Maybe that was why she enjoyed these interactions with the detective so much. He was definitely pursuing her – just not for the reason she wished.
“You would be surprised,” she told him.
“Surprise me and agree to meet,” the detective challenged her.
She laughed again. “You, Detective Butler, have become quite predictable.” But not boring. She’d never been as excited as she was just talking to him. What would happen if they were ever to meet?
“Really?” he challenged her. “I haven’t called you a while.”
“True,” she acknowledged. And she had missed him, had missed hearing his voice as they danced their flirtatious dance around each other. “And you said it’s not because you’ve forgotten me. So why haven’t you called?”
Had he been preoccupied? St. Bart’s was not a hub of crime, so it must have been a woman taking up his time. He wasn’t married, and he hadn’t brought a date to Elaine’s father’s wedding. So was it a new relationship?
“Because you’ve become quite predictable in refusing to meet with me,” he replied.
She sighed. “Predictable sounds boring, and I would hate to bore you.”
“So say yes.”
“Oh, Detective...” She was tempted – even though she knew it would be crazy. But what charges could he bring against her? He had no proof that there was actually a real business behind the FANTASY ENTERTAINMENT business cards. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“We both know why not,” she said. Because he would arrest her. And even though he wouldn’t be able to get a conviction without evidence, it would be inconvenient to be arrested. Orange was not Michelle’s color – neither were stripes. “I can’t trust you, Detective.”
“Then we have that in common,” he said. “I can’t trust you even though I have some kind of bizarre sixth sense about you.” And he didn’t sound happy about it. “I called because I have this distinct feeling that you’re causing trouble again.” He paused and added, “Or still...”
She’d felt it, too, this odd connection with the detective. But could a police detective and a madam – even a make-believe one – actually be soul mates?
“Me? Cause trouble?” she asked. It wasn’t her fault that someone had wound up dead when FANTASY ENTERTAINMENT had first opened the fake escort business. The killer had just used finding their card as an excuse to act on greed and...craziness.
Sam Butler didn’t laugh at her feigned innocence. There was nothing at all innocent about the madam of FANTASY ENTERTAINMENT. He didn’t need to meet her to know that. But he wanted to meet her and not just to arrest her. He wanted to know if her face was as beautiful as he imagined it to be and if her body was as sexy as her husky voice.
His body tensed at the thought, and he swung his feet down from his desk. At St. Bartholomew’s police department, he had a private office – unlike the bull pit of desks he’d shared with several other detectives at the previous department where he’d worked. He even had a window, which he turned to now as he stared out at the beautiful village he’d sworn to protect and serve.
Rising from rolling hills to mountains, the grass and trees were lush and green. Wrought iron fences lined the roads; mansions standing at the ends of the long winding drives behind them. Where was his mysterious madam? In one of those mansions? Or in the picturesque village with its quaint brick buildings?
“Yeah, you cause trouble,” he told her. She caused him nothing but trouble. Thoughts of her distracted him during the day and kept him up at night. What would happen when they actually met? Would that stop since she would be a reality instead of just a fantasy? Or would his fascination with the madam of FANTASY ENTERTAINMENT become even more of an obsession?
“The village of St. Bartholomew’s has been even quieter than usual, Detective,” she said. “You must be doing your job extremely well.”
“Actually when there haven’t been any recent arrests, it means I haven’t been doing my job well at all,” he said. And he blamed her for that as well – for distracting him.
“Couldn’t it just mean there haven’t been any recent crimes?” she asked.
He wished that were the case. “I’m not naïve enough to believe that, and I don’t think you are, either.”
“You’re not naïve at all, Detective,” she said. And he could hear the smile in her husky voice. “You’re cynical.”
“I’m realistic,” he said. “That’s why I know crimes are happening even as we speak.” So he shouldn’t be wasting his time when his team had already confirmed they were not able to trace these calls back to her cell phone. Not that he’d had them try again since that first time. Nobody else knew that he continued to call her. Of course he hadn’t called her in a few weeks, but he’d had a strange sensation this morning, this almost premonition, that she was up to something.
She sighed, but it was a sexy sigh that rattled the phone and had Sam thinking he could almost feel her warm breath in his ear. He suppressed a shiver. Maybe he was too close to the window. The police department was one of those quaint brick buildings with the original tall, drafty windows. But it was May. And he wasn’t cold, especially not with that husky voice speaking so sexily to him.
“I’m sorry, Detective,” she murmured.
“For your crimes?” he asked.
She laughed. “I’m sorry that you’re so cynical. It must be difficult to live like that, always suspecting the worst, always thinking the worst.”
He laughed now. “I do suspect the worst of you, Madam. Who did you think I was when you picked up the phone, when you’d asked if I’d changed my mind? A john?”
She laughed again, harder. “Oh, Detective, you just won’t give up, will you?”
“No.” Not until he caught her.
“I would compare you to Captain Ahab, Detective Butler,” she said. “But then that would make me a whale, and I do not care for that comparison at all.”