“That was no joke,” his expression was sharp with honesty as he pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re carrying my child inside your body. To me, that’s more phenomenal than any size five frame bouncing around before me.”
“Size four,” she corrected, giggling when he tickled her.
“Four or forty-four, I love you,” he vowed and pulled away the towel she still clutched. “Are you off limits yet?” he asked, grinning devilishly when she shook her head no. Rising to his full height, he pulled her high against him.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard today.”
Mick kicked away the towel still tangled between them and arched into his kiss.
~~~
Fernando shook his head and marveled at the scene that had already replayed itself four times. He and Contessa arrived at Hood Don Publications which houses Male Desire and Threads magazines. They’d visited several departments and, in the male dominated environment, County held everyone’s attention.
They were all impressed by her stature in the publishing industry, that was the excuse they used to stay close to her. Fernando knew the truth, she was a luscious beauty who practically wore her appeal like a neglige. He’d already given the guys more time visiting than he’d planned to. Therefore, he was unsympathetic to their disappointment when he announced that it was time for him and Contessa to head out. He massaged his eyes as the guys crowded around in greater number to say their goodbyes to County. A second or two passed before he was pulled aside by his chief editor, Perry Graves.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly top yourself, man. She’s somethin’ else,” Perry commended.
“Yes, she is,” Fernando smirked as he watched County revel in the attention she received. “She’s also tough and complex,” he confessed.
Perry sent his friend a sympathetic glance. “Be careful. Those are the women you want to keep.”
“I know,” he agreed with a slow nod.
“Perry,” County called, walking over to shake hands, “it was so nice to meet you. You’ve got an impressive place here.”
“Thank you Contessa,” Perry squeezed both her hands. “I hope to see you again,” he said. “I have a feeling I will,” he added for Fernando’s ears only.
~~~
“I apologize for any doubts I had about your business,” County said as she and Fernando made their way toward the elevators. “You seem to have a great company- great staff.”
“Thanks, but I promise you it didn’t all come together overnight.”
“I can just imagine how impressive your Seattle business must be,” she complimented while toying with the the brown and black fringe trim of her mosaic print knit coat. She glanced up in time to see the stoniness take control of his gaze. Clearly his other operations were a subject off-limits. “So where are we off to next?” she hoped to dispel some of the tension.
His grin returned. “I want to show you my club, but you might want to grab some lunch first.”
“Well, can’t we eat at the club?” she asked, as they stepped onto the elevator car. “Or isn’t your club that advanced?” she teased, noticing the uncertainty flash on his face.
“The atmosphere might affect your appetite,” he said, smoothing his big hands together as though he were trying to find the right way to phrase the statement.
County understood. “So it’s a gentlemen’s club?” she watched his long lashes close over his eyes in confirmation. “Ramsey, do you really think a few naked women would rile me?”
“I wouldn’t feel right about having you eat lunch there,” he said, more preoccupied by what she’d think than he realized.
County found his unease adorable. She almost prayed that he’d do something that wasn’t charming or sensual. Her list of reasons to discourage a relationship with the man was already way too short.
~~~
Seattle, Washington
Anson Carter and Graham Johnson felt their hearts drop clear to their stomachs when Sheila McPhereson announced that the boss would see them. The two exchanged looks of sheer dread and followed the executive secretary down the corridor which seemed even longer in the wake of their pending meeting with one of the Dark Squires partners.
Sheila kept a few steps ahead of them giving Anson and Graham the chance to make last minute brush-ups to their explanations.
“Dammit, he shouldn’t bite off our heads over this. After all, it was his partner who told us to back off,” Graham reasoned.
“You really want to call the man out like that?” Anson queried.
Graham rolled his eyes. “Brotha, right now I’ll do anything to ensure that my ass is still attached to my body when I walk out of here.”
Anson smirked. “Amen,” he agreed.
Sheila waved Anson and Graham toward the slightly ajar double doors. She was about to see them inside when she was instructed by the office’s occupant to do otherwise. “Good luck guys,” she whispered before walking off.
Anson and Graham inhaled and then stepped into the lion’s den- literally.
Stefan Lyons was one half of the team that operated Dark Squires Communications. The privately owned company had remained so because the two partners had no desire for a board or stockholders overseeing and dictating their every move. That was especially true since the moves were often risky, usually ruthless and frequently dangerous.
Seated behind his desk, Stefan puffed on a long cigar. It was his favorite pastime and a habit that made him seem far older than he was. He waved for the two men to have a seat and enjoyed several more puffs of his cigar.
“Do you two have the contract for Contessa House?” he asked them.
Graham leaned forward. “Stef, we tried, but we-”
“Do you two have the contract for Contessa House?” Stef voiced the question once again.
Anson folded one hand over Graham’s arm. “No,” he answered.
“Let me explain why I send two men on sales trips,” Stef said after enjoying a few more puffs from his Robusto cigar. “Two men ensure that the pitch will be thoroughly understood by the client. A second man points out valuable facts to the client- facts that his partner may’ve failed to mention- thus providing the client with a deal they can’t refuse. But you two failed. Now what do you think I should do about that?”
Anson and Graham exchanged glances and knew it was time to pull out all the stops lest they be fired… or worse.
“Can we at least explain?” Graham raised his hand to ask.
“You didn’t close the deal. That’s all I need to know.”
“No, it’s not Stef.”
The room went deathly still. Graham closed his eyes, knowing a few of his friend’s teeth were about to be strewn across the Oriental rug that covered half the floor.
Instead, Stef seemed interested and came to sit on the edge of his spotless pine desk. “What do you think I need to know?”
“We didn’t have a chance to complete the pitch because we were told to leave,” Anson shared quickly.
Stef rolled his eyes. “That’s what the client usually does when they deal with piss poor salesmen.”
“No Stef, it was Fernando,” Graham said.
“Fernando?” Stef seemed curious and mildly stunned. “I’m surprised he even decided to attend the meeting.”
“He didn’t attend the meeting,” Anson clarified.
“He was there meeting with two centerfolds for one of his Chicago magazines,” Graham added.
Stef took a long drag from his cigar. “So my partner just happened to be there, huh?”
“He arranged it,” Graham confessed.
Stef nodded. “Go on,” he urged, leaving the corner of his desk.
“We’d been talking to Ms. Warren for a while, when he gave a nod signalling that we should leave,” Graham continued, “we didn’t think it’d be wise to argue.”
“You thought right,” Stef agreed, losing some of his anger. “You guys go on home, relax, take a good shower and the rest
of the week off,” he instructed.
Very relieved, Anson and Graham thanked their boss and hurried toward the door.
“Guys?” Stef called, before their hands touched the knob. “Tell me about Contessa Warren.”
Anson’s and Graham’s smiles were the epitomes of male satisfaction.
“You should see her Stef, a real dime,” Anson appraised.
Graham nodded. “Incredible body and an even more incredible face. Plus she’s smart. Quick, outspoken. She’s no fool.”
“Yeah, if I weren’t sitting across from her, I’d have sworn I was dealing with a man,” Anson shared.
While his men flattered Contessa, Stef nodded. He’s sleeping with her, or planning to, he realized. “Thanks guys, get home and get some rest.”
“Are you gonna forget the House, boss?” Graham wanted to know.
“No, just taking a different route,” Stef confided.
Alone in his office, Stef finished off his cigar. Reaching for the printed phone directory on his desk, he browsed the gold-trimmed pages until he found what he was looking for. He dialed the number and waited for the connection.
“Hey, it’s Stef. I got a job for you. In Chicago. Contessa Warren. I want to know everything about her.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Spot was an upscale gentleman’s club located several miles outside of Chicago. To an average passerby, the place looked like an elaborate mansion. A tour inside the dwelling, however, showed it was far more than that.
County was in awe. She had never seen the inside of such a club in spite of what many of her friends believed. Fernando strolled through the house noting several points of interest. County was especially surprised to find women dancing in both dark and well-lit rooms.
“I believe in giving my patrons a choice,” Fernando said as they walked the mammoth sized establishment. “I found that many prefer the well-lit rooms to the dark ones.”
“It’s such a huge place,” County cited, her eyes wider as they scanned the high ceilings and tall windows lining the corridors and upper levels. “There’s dancing in all these rooms, huh?” she inquired softly.
Fernando chuckled at her candor and was about to provide her with an explanation when they were interrupted. County tried not to stare at the man who was as massive as Fernando, but looked as though his life had been much rougher- much deadlier.
Fernando nodded, and then drew the man over to where she stood. “Contessa Warren, this is Mbeki Carpenter, one of my partners here in the club.”
County smiled and extended her hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” she cleared her throat when the man’s hand practically smothered her own.
“Very nice to meet you,” Mbeki replied, his light brown eyes trailing her face appreciatively. “This won’t take long, Fern,” he said before leaving Contessa with another smile and nod.
“Will you be alright on your own for a few minutes?” Fernando asked her, his concern evident.
County waved her hand. “I’ll be fine. Go handle your business,” she urged, already turning to study a few of the portraits that lined the walls. Of course, she was covertly studying the two giants down the hall.
Clearly something was wrong. When Mbeki uttered only a few words, Fernando’s expression turned murderous. The two spoke for several minutes more, and then shook hands and parted ways. County figured their date was over, but she was mistaken.
“Are you really sure about eating here County?” he asked, a furrow settling between his brows.
“I’m positive. Unless...there’s a problem? Your conversation seemed pretty serious.”
Fernando shook his head and stroked his whiskered jaw. “Just a few personal issues,” he explained.
“Would you like to discuss them?”
“No, I would not,” Fernando replied promptly, grinning at the cool, airy manner she posed the question.
“Well, you never did answer my other question anyway,” she pointed out.
“And that was?” Fernando folded his arms across his chest and waited.
“About all the rooms in this house.”
“What about them?”
County’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding? You really don’t know what I’m asking?”
“Just what do you think goes on in all these rooms?” his voice was quiet.
County smoothed her hands across the wool knit fabric of her coat. “I’m sure you know very well what goes on in them.”
He took a step closer to her. “As far as I know eating and dancing.”
“There’re many ways to dance, Ramsey.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“So?”
“So as far as I know everything that goes on here is strictly professional and legal.”
“As far as you know,” County’s wide brown eyes were suspicion filled. “Is that your way of saying that you don’t know how the ladies make...extra money?”
Fernando’s expression was deadly serious. “That’s my way of saying I make infrequent unannounced visits to the club at least three times a month. In all those times, I’ve never witnessed anything happening under the table or between the sheets. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
County only pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Good,” he said, taking her upper arms in a light grasp. “Now, can we please eat?”
~~~
County’s gasp seemed to echo when she and Fernando entered one of the upstairs rooms. It was an exquisite area illuminated by soft lighting and warmed by a gorgeous fireplace. Relaxing classical jazz swirled throughout.
“Is this just for us?” County breathed, her brown leather boots disappearing into a rich, burgundy carpet.
“All the rooms look this way.” Fernando seemed to take great pride in sharing with her. “My guests come to dine here.”
“So they have dinner along with their private dances,” County noted, casting Fernando a suggestive look as he held her chair.
“There’re no private dances,” he informed her after taking his place at the table. “Only dances for private parties of ten or more, plus security to ensure my rules are followed.”
“So strict,” Contessa drawled, leaning back in the chair she occupied. “It’s a wonder you’re able to keep girls, or clients for that matter.”
Fernando toyed with the silverware on the table. “Rules ensure I have the most beautiful and intelligent girls and gentlemanly and intelligent clients,” he schooled her.
County propped her chin to her fist. “Some might find that boring.”
“Precisely why I wouldn’t have to worry about them working for me or becoming clients,” Fernando said, his translucent brown gaze firm and steady. “These men come to unwind after a vicious corporate day. They want to relax or conduct more boring business and find that having a beautiful woman in the vicinity makes the task for more enjoyable.”
County tilted her water glass in a mock toast. “Smart,” she commended.
“Thanks.”
“Profitable?”
“Very.”
A side door opened in the private dining room and a very handsome young man walked in. He greeted Fernando in his heavy Spanish brogue and then kissed Contessa’s hand before asking if they’d like to order drinks.
“Whiskey sour,” County ordered, returning his dazzling smile with one of her own.
“Scotch neat. Thanks Manny,” Fernando said.
“Is he part of your dance troupe,” County asked when they were alone.
“One of my chefs,” Fernando informed while reaching for a menu. “I thought you’d approve.”
“Oh, I do,” she replied softly, perusing her own menu. “So why do you do it?” she asked, after they’d been studying the dining selections for quite a while.
“What?” Fernando asked.
“Run your club this way? It’s out in the middle of nowhere,” she reasoned when he fixed her with a curious look. “Clearly your clients are men of power. No one would ask
questions. No one would know.”
“I’d know,” he immediately returned. “It’s taken me a long time to go legit County. It’s difficult when you go it alone.”
“Your friends didn’t approve?” she asked, keeping her eyes focused on the menu.
“I lost a lot of friends when I told them I didn’t want that life.”
“Admirable. That you’d cut them all off.”
He grinned. “I didn’t cut them all off, but they know and have accepted that they’ll have to go straight if they expect to have my assistance.”
County brought her brown stare to his face. “And you’re sure they’ve gone straight?”
“As far as I know,” he said, chuckling when she burst into laughter.
~~~
“This whining of yours has gone way past pissin’ me off, Houston,” Marcus growled, rubbing his bloodshot eyes as he paced behind the bar in his office. He groaned, cursing himself when his words set off another pitiful rant from his younger brother. “Houston!” he roared finally, ordering himself to calm when he obtained silence. “This has got to stop Hous, it’s wearin’ the hell out of me and I’m sick of it. All this damn complaining...you know how many men would kill to be where you are?”
“Hmph, so that’s how I got here.”
“Get over it Houston and just count your lucky stars that you’re not sittin’ up in some jail.”
“Don’t you try that crap on me Marc,” Houston snapped, his voice taking on a strength all of a sudden. “You got just as much to lose here as I do. Maybe more.”
“Weak bastard. Don’t you dare threaten me,” Marc ordered, not about to let the man know how true his words were. “Hell you can have and do anything your heart desires.”
“Anything?” Houston pouted. “Anything like see my wife?”
“Please,” Marc spat, slamming a beaded glass to the bar. “Since when? Since when do you care about spending time with your wife? Certainly not while you were out screwing all your daughter’s friends.”
“Damn you.”
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