Dangerous Angel

by Stacy Gail

Nikita’s jaw locked. “There’s a used condom stuck to your chandelier. Have a nice day.”

  As she walked down the path back to her vehicle, she thought she heard him say, “So that’s where it went.” She didn’t bother to look back, wanting only to get out of there and perhaps detoxify with a shower and maybe an hour or so of wholesome cartoons. It wasn’t until she was in her SUV and rolling out onto the quiet residential street that she noticed a familiar car behind her.

  Damn it.

  In less than a minute she had her phone to her ear. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for my bail jumper,” came Kyle’s immediate response. “Do you mind not yelling? I have a headache that just kicked up like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Really?” She bit her lip before she could completely lose it and ask if he was okay. With the possible exception of her aunt, there was no one in the universe she gave a damn about. Why that was so difficult to remember when it came to Kyle was anyone’s guess. “You must really have a bad head, since you don’t seem to be aware you just drove past the place you should be investigating. I’m assuming you’re here to talk to Paul Hardy, yes?”

  “You looked like you were alone when you pulled out, so I figured why should I go over already-covered ground when you’re onto the next lead?”

  “It could be the next lead, or it could be a bum rush.” She threw an irritated glance at the rearview mirror and clearly made out Kyle’s familiar silhouette in the muscle car behind her. “You’re not going to use me to scoop up Bambi Dominguez.”

  “At the moment I really don’t give a shit about Bambi or anything else.”

  Nikita frowned. That didn’t sound like Kyle at all. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you? Do you need to pull over?”

  “Eventually. Where are we headed?”

  “Lady Jayne’s on Biscayne, across from the Marketplace. Can you make it?”

  “If you lead me.”

  The thing she refused to call worry brought her brows together, and she glanced again in the mirror. “Stay on my tail.”

  “Believe me, Nikita. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Eight

  The pain throbbing behind Kyle’s eyes had diminished to a mere shadow by the time he and Nikita pulled into a parking lot protected by a towering pink oleander hedge. The lot belonged to a rambling gray and white Victorian, and with its showy fish-scale siding, conical turrets and mullioned windows, he’d at first thought it was a private home. But the sign out front declared the house as Lady Jayne’s Discreet Boutique, and as he climbed out of his car he looked up at it curiously. The residential vibe continued with a front wraparound porch, its supporting posts covered in a well-trained fuchsia bougainvillea. A far cry from The Toy Box, he thought as Nikita rounded her car to join him. If Bambi was doing something dainty like taking tea, he’d fucking faint.

  “You’re pale,” Nikita announced in no uncertain terms as she pocketed her keys. In a move that would have done her aunt proud, she caught his chin and moved his head this way and that for a critical study. “You don’t look hungover or overheated. Are you getting sick?”

  “I never get sick.” But he stood still and let her put the back of her hand to his brow. If only she knew how enthralling it was, to catch glimpses of her infinite capacity for sweetness, when she worked so hard to be indifferent. “Ah, Nikita. You really know how to bowl me over.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Explanations could wait, he decided. But not for much longer. “Want to tell me why we’re at a place called Lady Jayne’s?”

  “The address I found in Bambi’s locker belonged to her latest squeeze, Paul Hardy. FYI, he’s a bona fide skeevy playboy, and after five minutes in his company I’m left with a burning need to shower. According to him, your jump may or may not be here.”

  “And what exactly is a discreet boutique?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Apparently satisfied he wasn’t about to keel over from a raging fever, she turned toward the Victorian without meeting his eyes. “If you need to sit this one out, I can handle it from here.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” The urge to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her was so strong he had to stuff his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside her. “I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “Don’t be so paranoid. I’m not going to poach your bounty when you’re not feeling well.”

  “I feel fine, and that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not going to let you pretend nothing happened.”

  As they climbed the porch stairs, she was so quiet he thought she was going to take the coward’s way out and not answer. Then she shook her coffee-colored hair back and raised her chin. “I’m not. The real question is why you’re making such a big deal of it.”

  “I’m not making a big deal of it. You’re the one who’s suddenly not answering my calls and texts.”

  He knew he’d scored a hit when her mouth tightened. “You’re acting like this was your first kiss. It wasn’t, was it?”

  “No, but yours is the first kiss I’ve ever had that’s made me believe some kisses can change the world.”

  “I...” Nikita came to a halt so abruptly she seemed on the verge of teetering off her heels.

  “What, did I finally manage to surprise you?” Intrigued, he reached out and brushed away the dark hair blowing over the face that haunted his dreams more than he cared to admit. As he did, something sweetly painful squeezed in his chest when he saw this tough, worldly woman was blushing. “It looks like I did even more than that. Does it embarrass you to know I treasure your kiss?”

  “Is it any wonder I call you Hurricane Kyle? I never know what’s going to come out of that crazy mouth of yours.” Her cheeks remained a dusky red as she turned toward the front door. “You’ve been such a tease from the moment I met you. Are you ever serious?”

  “I’m seriously going to kiss you again. And again. And again. Does that count?”

  Her mouth opened and snapped with a click. First a blush, and now speechlessness. Man, he was on a roll today. “Just shut up, cabrón.”

  “At least you didn’t say no.” With great deliberation his fingers tangled with hers, while his blood heated along with his imagination. He would kiss her again, and they both knew it. He would kiss her, and touch her. And make her beg... “In guy-speak, I feel it’s only fair to tell you an answer like that leaves hope alive that at some point you’re going to change your mind and say yes.” An irritated little huff was her only response as she hauled open the door and nearly hit him with it. He had to blink a few times to help his eyes adjust from the bright sun, and what he saw had him blinking again, this time in astonishment.

  Glossy mahogany paneling and wall sconces cleverly simulating candlelight greeted them in the entry area, along with a marble counter flanked by fussy tufted chaise lounges. Behind the counter perched a young blonde woman, her brassy hair smoothed back in one of those fancy retro rolls that were popular during WWII. From what little he could see of her, she was wearing a fitted suit jacket that would have looked severely professional if it weren’t for one small detail—she wasn’t wearing a blouse or even a bra underneath it.

  “I know this is a shot in the dark here, but I’m thinking Lady Jayne’s isn’t a tea room,” he muttered to Nikita, who had again crashed to a standstill once she’d locked onto the woman at the counter.

  Her nod was barely perceptible. “And it’s been my experience that boutique staff are usually asked to wear, you know, clothes.”

  He was still chuckling when the blonde looked up from her computer monitor with a scarlet-lipped smile. “Welcome to Lady Jayne’s. Reservation number?”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have one.” Nikita moved to the counter and showed the woman her identification. “We’re looking for a mi
ssing woman by the name of Bambi. Her friend, Paul Hardy, said he believed she might be here to exchange a gift?”

  The woman’s thousand-watt smile extinguished as if she’d suffered a power outage. “There are no exchanges allowed at this boutique. I assure you, Mr. Hardy and his friends know that once an item is used, it’s theirs.”

  “What kind of boutique is this, anyway?” Kyle asked, coming to stand by Nikita. “Besides discreet, I mean.”

  The smile plugged back in. “We are a for-adults boutique specializing in all things done behind closed doors. Each private showroom has a complete selection of our inventory—an inventory designed to scintillate the senses and bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Our only policy—you try it, you buy it.”

  “Sold,” Kyle said.

  “Ignore him,” Nikita said, a faint frown crinkling her brow. “You said Paul Hardy would know your rules here, which means he’s probably given me the run-around. But just to be sure... We’re looking for his friend, a woman by the name Bambi Dominguez.” She tapped her phone’s screen a couple of times to call up Bambi’s mug shot and held it out. “Has she been in here today?”

  “When we say we’re a discreet boutique, we mean it.”

  “I appreciate that. What’s more, I’d love this shop if I weren’t on the clock. But I am, so unfortunately I’m about to make a very non-discreet phone call to the police to let them know you’re harboring a potentially dangerous fugitive.” It was Nikita’s turn to smile, but instead of brightly glowing like the other woman’s, it threatened to devour anyone stupid enough to get in her way. “Your choice, of course. Just how discreet are we going to be today?”

  With only a moment’s hesitation, the blonde reached for a phone, dialed a single number, then spoke. “I’m sending two people in to talk with you. Please tell them everything they want to know.” She hung up with a snap, then gave Nikita an appraising glance. “Down the main hall to the door at the end. It’s marked ‘Heaven’.”

  “Of course it is.” Nikita sighed.

  * * *

  Oh God, it was a bordello.

  No, Nikita reproached herself, trying to apply the brakes before she flew completely off the handle. There were no prostitutes or madams or whatever the hell else was found in a bordello. This was an adult toy shop of the exotic kind. A retail store for the wildly adventurous. She was adventurous. She should love this. And she would be loving it if it weren’t for the fact that Kyle was by her side as they entered...

  A bedroom.

  “Welcome.” A small brunette stood at the foot of a circular bed, her ample curves challenging the seams of the suit jacket that seemed to be Lady Jayne’s uniform. The outfit was made complete by a skirt that was so short it could barely be seen peeking out from the jacket’s hem, and stilettos that reminded her of the footwear at The Toy Box. “I’m Lynette. How may I be of service?”

  Nikita hardly knew where to begin. That wasn’t a shock, considering the room was furnished with an open armoire full of every type of lingerie known to man, a fussy Georgian antique vanity full of lubes, lotions and edible body paint, a rainbow display of dildos from petite to elephant-sized on a sea chest at the foot of the bed, and more restraints hanging from a tie rack than one would find in an average prison. She was still trying to get her mind off a display table piled high with boxes of condoms when Kyle stepped forward.

  Great. Here it comes.

  “Lynette, we’re looking for someone who was here with one of your clients, a man by the name of Paul Hardy. Can you tell me when they were here last?”

  Nikita had to clench her jaw to keep it from hitting the floor with an undignified bang. Maybe their surroundings had overloaded even Kyle’s naughty sense of humor.

  The woman nodded. “Certainly. They were here two days ago, but I’m afraid Mr. Hardy and his friends are no longer welcome at Lady Jayne’s.”

  Kyle lifted a brow. “Why not?”

  “What is done in our boutique’s private showrooms is our clients’ business—there are no rules or regulations on that score. But when our clients choose to forcibly involve the staff, that’s when things become...problematic.”

  “When we mentioned the name Paul Hardy, we were sent to you.” Nikita watched the tension tighten the other woman’s mouth and felt a stab of compassion. “I take it you were the staff member who was forcibly involved?”

  Lynette nodded, discomfort in her every move. “The appetites of the Hardy men are...unusually aggressive. I was forced to use the panic button we’re given for just such emergencies.” She held up a hand, and from her wrist dangled a small fob attached to a curled plastic wristband. “I’ve worked here for three years, and nothing like this has ever happened before. It shook the entire staff.”

  “The Hardy men?” Nikita glanced at Kyle, only to find he looked almost as taken aback as she felt. “Are you saying Paul Hardy brought his father, Senator Floyd Hardy, to enjoy Lady Jayne’s private showrooms?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t Senator Hardy. Paul Hardy was accompanied by his grandfather, as well as the young woman they called Bambi.”

  “I...see.” As much as Nikita liked to think she had been around the block a few times and was about as worldly as they came, her stomach still went sideways. “That’s got to be unusual—a grandfather-grandson duo sharing a woman.”

  “That was another first here at the shop,” Lynette admitted. “That kind of behavior probably should have been a red flag that there was nothing taboo as far as they were concerned. But we’re trained not to judge our clientele, or to ask questions, so I tried not to think about it.”

  Kyle made a sound that matched his grimace of distaste. “How did you get tangled up with those three?”

  “I was the sales manager responsible for their particular showroom. I know every piece of inventory in the room, and charge the client for every item used. Once they’re done with their shopping, they call me to wrap up whatever purchases they’ve made for them to take home, and I complete their check-out process.”

  “I have to say, that’s certainly a unique shopping experience.” Nikita looked around the well-appointed “showroom” and could only imagine what sort of bill the likes of Paul Hardy could rack up. “I take it that when you arrived, they assumed you might be for sale as well?”

  “I guess.” A delicate shudder went through Lynette. “I knocked, and when I heard the invitation to enter I did so, only to find them...still engaged. All three of them fully, actively engaged.”

  “Please, no details.” Far from amused, Kyle looked vaguely ill. “I assume your first instinct was to leave?”

  “Naturally. I turned back toward the door, but the grandfather ordered me to stay and watch them as they...finished. I didn’t want to, of course, and that was when the woman suggested that I be chained up and made to watch, but the old man told her it wouldn’t be necessary. Then, before I could even move, the old man was just suddenly right in front of me blocking the way out. I don’t know how to explain it,” she added with a baffled shake of her head. “I wasn’t really looking at him—I didn’t want to see what was going on, so I was averting my eyes. But I still can’t figure out how he managed to be having sex across the room one second, then blocking my way out the next. I mean, my own granddad could barely shuffle from one room to the next without assistance, but this guy was something else.”

  “Obviously he takes his vitamins in the form of little blue pills,” Nikita said, shaking her head. “What happened next?”

  “The next thing I knew, I was on the bed and suddenly I felt...”

  “What?”

  “Terrified, of course. But also kind of...I don’t know. It must have been the situation,” she added and passed a hand over her brow as if trying to erase something bad. “Their behavior was obviously affecting me, but when I felt hands squeezing around my throat I
realized I had to get out of there. I hit the panic button to call security, and that was the end of it. They were escorted off the property.”

  “Were the police called?”

  Lynette shook her head. “Over the years, Lady Jayne has found it’s best to use its elite internal security if a client becomes rowdy. It’s one of the reasons we’re so proficient at being discreet.”

  Nikita frowned. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Of course. Nothing of note really happened, other than I suffered a scare. And I wasn’t too eager to explain how a little old man maneuvered me into a situation.”

  “I’m surprised Hardy didn’t give you any trouble about being kicked out.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Lynette offered a small grimace. “The younger Mr. Hardy began to make noise, but the grandfather literally wrapped his arms around his grandson until he was quiet. They pretty much stayed that way while they dressed and were escorted out by Lady Jayne’s full contingent of security staff.”

  Nikita couldn’t keep from wrinkling her nose as she pictured the scene. “Ew.”

  The other woman nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Just to make sure I’ve covered all the bases, and to get that thought forever out of my head, have you seen the woman, Bambi, today? Perhaps to return something that was bought for her?”

  “We have a no-return policy here, for obvious reasons,” came the immediate answer. “But more importantly, she would never be allowed back onto this property. Lady Jayne’s security is second to none. It has to be.”

  So that dissolute brat had given her the runaround, after all. “Thank you for your time. We’ll just—”

  “Lynette, you said the next thing you knew, you were on the bed.” Kyle’s tone was sharp enough to make Nikita glance his way. Shock zipped through her at the inexplicable hawklike watchfulness of the eyes he had trained on the woman. “Were you carried, or did you go willingly? I need specifics.”

  Her shock deepened. Talk about inappropriate. “Kyle—”