by Michelle Fox
Blake chuckled. “This is modest by Robin Leach’s standards. There’s not even a pool.” He stopped by a door. “Here’s your room.” He opened the door and let me step into the room first.
“Oh wow.” I turned in a small circle. “It’s beautiful.” Deep red silk with floral embroidery covered the bed and there was a wardrobe with ornate carving on its doors. Behind a second door was a private bathroom featuring a sunken tub big enough even for me.
“This is amazing.” I walked out of the bathroom and over to the window. Brushing aside the white curtains, I took in the view. A brick courtyard lay below complete with a bubbling fountain and a neatly planted garden bursting with color.
Blake came to stand next to me. “Why don’t you rest? You must be tired. We’ll have dinner when you wake up. The cook here makes the most wonderful tagine.”
I looked at him then, noting the excitement that danced in his eyes as he spoke. Blake was happy to see me. Frankie had been right, he had the hots for me, but now I was afraid to like him back.
Still, when he came in close for a tender kiss, I couldn’t help but bask in his touch. His hands were gentle on my face and in my hair, but his arms around me flexed with hard muscle and his mouth devoured mine with a hunger I remembered well. A hunger that burned in me, too.
For a moment, we spoke through the touch of our bodies, the brush of skin on skin. With his warm arms around me, his mouth on mine, everything seemed right with the world. All too soon, he broke the kiss and stepped away.
“Sleep. We’ll have time to catch up later.” His thumb caressed my cheek and his eyes drank me in. “By the way, there’s a surprise for you in the wardrobe. Something you’ll find useful since your luggage was lost.”
“Oh Blake.” I leaned into his touch. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“It reminded me of you.” He kissed my forehead. “Rest. I’ll see you later.”
***
After a long bath and an even longer nap, I woke feeling worse than a hung over zombie. My head pounded like my brain wanted to stage a jailbreak. The jet lag combined with being drugged had not done me any favors.
With a groan, I heaved myself upright, clutching my head to keep it from cracking open. I’d slept in the soft towels from the bathroom. They were made of thick cotton and large enough to wrap all the way around my ample frame. The clothes I’d been kidnapped in were too dusty to wear again. After all, I’d rolled around on the ground in them. They also smelled like sweat and desperation. So much so that I’d hand washed everything, including my underwear, in the bathroom sink and hung it all on the shower rod, hoping there was enough time for it all to dry.
The lack of clean and dry clothing made me doubly glad to see a gorgeous caftan hanging in the hand carved wardrobe. I pulled it out and couldn’t help but gasp. The scarlet fabric had been beaded around the neckline, the sleeves and the hem. There were almost too many beads and crystals, which meant it was just perfect. A pair of thin cotton pants in the same scarlet color accompanied the top.
I put the outfit on, sans underwear, and, for several long minutes, admired myself in the bathroom mirror. The caftan made me look exotic and lush with the way it gathered around my breasts and then flared out over my torso. Without underwear, the fabric ran over my skin in a soft caress. I wasn’t one to go commando, but it felt sexier than I would’ve expected.
Smiling at myself in the mirror, I finger combed my hair and spritzed on some perfume I found on the vanity. It smelled of lavender and bergamot mixed with citrus, a lovely fresh scent. I was renewed.
The only downer? The clock was ticking and I had no clue how I was going to get Blake to the address Frankie had given me. Some ideas flashed through my mind as I considered my situation. I could ask him to take me sight-seeing and give the driver the address. Or maybe I could pretend I arranged a special private dinner as a thank you for bringing me to Morocco. After thinking it over, I decided I liked the dinner idea best.
But was I willing to let Blake go in blind? That didn’t sit well with me, but could I warn him without angering Frankie? It was tough to judge without more information.
Unable to resolve the question of whether to tell Blake anything or not, I shelved the dilemma for the time being. I decided to go find Blake and some food. Barefoot, I padded through the sprawling Riad in search of the dining room. I’d been too tired when we arrived to recall the layout and kept ending up in guest suites that mirrored mine.
They were all empty except for the last one, which was packed with computers, wires and flat screen monitors. I stared at it all, confused. It looked like the hide-out of some mad computer genius. Chalking it up to Blake and his magic, I left, shutting the door behind me.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in over a dozen time zones. Catching the scent of something delicious, I followed it to the heart of the house where I finally located the dining room. The table had been set as if they expected a foreign diplomat for dinner. Candles in gold candelabras now flanked the floral centerpiece. Gold rimmed the plates as well, while the silverware had the gleam of real silver.
Then I noticed Blake and frowned because he didn’t look happy. His expression was dark and stormy. I started to ask him what was wrong when I spotted Frankie’s wad of cash on one of the plates. Next to it rested the card Frankie had given me.
He gestured for me to sit. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
I slowly lowered myself into a seat and put my napkin in my lap. “You went through my purse?” The idea of him snooping bothered me. I’d set it on the side table at the entrance, never thinking anyone would touch it, least of all Blake.
“It fell off the table and things fell out. Strange things.” He picked up the money, hefting its weight in his hand before setting it aside.“That’s a lot of cash.”
I mutely nodded, watching as he spooned food onto my plate. It smelled delicious, but I’d just lost my appetite.
He served himself, shoulders rigid, mouth a grim line. “At least five thousand dollars.”
I just shrugged. I didn’t have the skills to judge the amount without counting it, but, apparently, Blake did.
“You didn’t use your plane ticket, either. I checked.”
Still not knowing what to say, I remained silent.
Blake continued, “The address on that card is a known hot-spot for criminals.” He banged the spoon on the side of the serving dish and the sharp noise made me jump. “Care to explain so this makes sense?”
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm in the face of his obvious anger. “I’ll leave the explanations up to you.”
He bristled, eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I was kidnapped and forced to come here.” I glared at him. “I turned you down, Blake. I wasn’t going to come.”
The anger drained from his face, but his expression remained wary. “What do you mean kidnapped?”
“Remember Clark?” At his nod, I continued, “Well he showed up with some bogus cops, put a hood over my head, jabbed a needle in my thigh and threw me in the trunk of a car. I woke up in a plane.”
Blake shook his head. “Wait. That makes no sense. You’re here, not being held hostage somewhere.”
I held up a finger. “Yes, that’s the interesting part. Do you know why they want me, Blake?”
“Why?”
“Because they want you.” I tapped the card with my finger. “I’m supposed to get you here or else.”
He looked at the card, his brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, well, join the club.” I pushed back my chair and stood. “All I know is I spent one night with you and that got me kidnapped. You were supposed to fuck me, Blake, not my life.” With that, I fled to my room, not wanting him to see me cry.
***
Blake came after me. I didn’t blame him. I would’ve done the same in his shoes. He’d been a wanted man and didn’t even know it. Of cou
rse he wanted answers. I just didn’t have any to give.
He pounded on the door. “Ruby, are you okay?”
I hugged my knees to my chest and tried not to cry all over my new outfit. It was the one beautiful thing in an ugly situation. I couldn’t bear to ruin it.
“Can I come in?”
“It’s your house.” I sniffed and wiped away tears in an effort to compose myself.
He cracked the door open and poked his head in. When he saw me on the bed, he came in and sat next to me, one arm going around my shoulders. I should’ve pulled away, but instead I leaned in to him. I was always leaning into Blake, never passing up an opportunity to be close to him. That would have to stop. And soon. However, just then I indulged, needing the comfort.
“It’s okay, baby. Listen, you don’t have to say a thing. I can guess at what’s going on and I can only hope you’ll forgive me for putting you in such danger.” He paused for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “There are men who want my skills, who want to use them for their own purposes. One of them found you and is trying to manipulate me through you. Does that sound about right?”
I shrugged. “I guess so. He didn’t really say why you’re supposed to be at that address.”
“He? Do you have a name?”
“Clark.”
“The crew guy from the cirque?” Blake frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“He was watching you,” I said. “How about Frankie Abruzzo? He’s Clark’s boss. You ever heard of him?”
Blake’s expression became grim. “Yeah. Him I know.”
I shook my head. “How do you know a guy like Frankie? What does magic have to do with any of this?”
Blake sighed. “Magic is deception at its core, a lie of wonder. Tricks come in handy for all sorts of nefarious schemes.”
“Like what?” I gave him a skeptical look.
“Several old magic tricks are used in cons. You know the shell game?” When I nodded, he continued, “It’s a magic trick used to bilk people out of money. It’s been in use for over a hundred years and con men still fall back on it. Unfortunately, magic has a dark side, one criminals count on.”
My eyebrows shot up at the mention of criminals. “Are you in the mob or something?”
“No, I’m not a mobster,” he said, his expression grim. “But my job sometimes makes me go slumming.”
“What is your job?” I asked softly.
His expression grew remote. “Not something I can discuss.”
My stomach sank as I ran through a list of people who couldn’t talk about their jobs. Spies. Thieves. Assassins. Hackers. Okay, most of those were criminals, but what else was I supposed to think? Normal people talked about their jobs.
While I was busy thinking, Blake changed the subject. “The address on the card? When am I supposed to be there?”
“Four days from now.”
He thought for a moment and then nodded as if he’d decided something. “All right. I’ll take care of it. Frankie will get his.”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s it? Problem solved just like that?”
He nodded. “Yep, just like that. Don’t worry about Frankie, Ruby. I’ll handle him. He’s not nearly as big a deal as he thinks he is.”
I found it hard to believe Blake. “Frankie seemed pretty dangerous to me. He’s a killer.”
He thought for a second and then said, “Let me put it this way, he’s a piranha and he’s dangerous in his own way. But I am a great white shark.”
Sharks. Piranhas. Mob bosses. Magicians. Me. It all swirled in my head. The world didn’t make sense anymore. I put a hand to my head trying to stop the spinning. “This is crazy,” I muttered.
He patted my thigh. “Welcome to my world.”
“I don’t want to be here,” I said blinking as more tears rushed to the surface. I looked at him. “You’re not going to kill me are you?”
His eyes went wide. “Ruby, I would never hurt you.”
“Then let me go home.”
Regret filled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? You’ve got the address, I don’t need to be here.” I stood up and paced, agitated and ready to run. I would go back home, back to Lilli and everything would be okay again.
“Because I still need you,” he said quietly. Standing up, he caught my hands in his and held me still. “And I’d like to keep you close until we know Frankie isn’t a problem anymore.”
“I’m not a shark,” I said flatly.
“No, you’re not. So swim with me for a while until we know you’re safe, okay?” He put a finger under my chin, tilting my head back until our eyes met. “Okay?”
Did I have a choice? Not really. I would have to make the best of a bad situation. With a reluctant nod, I said, “Okay.”
He smiled. “Good. Now come back to the table and eat, you must be hungry.”
I let him take me back to the dining room. Our food still sat on our plates and we took our places the table.
I dug into the food, my body ravenous and not caring how stressed out I was. Tagine was new to me, but I quickly fell in love with the delectable meat and vegetable dish that saturated my taste buds with a blend of exotic spices.
“This is amazing.” My stomach growled, threatening to claw its way up to my plate if I didn’t eat faster.
Blake nodded. “I love the food here.”
We then ate in silence, the only sound the clink of silverware on our plates or the tapping of the serving spoon as we each had seconds. I ate more than I should have, but I didn’t care. I was starving and the food was delicious.
Once my plate was clean, I leaned back in my chair, a hand over my groaning stomach and asked, “How does it not bother you?”
He paused, mid bite, surprised by the question. “How does what not bother me?”
“There are bad guys after you and you take it like it’s an invitation to go out for drinks. How are you so calm?” While I felt relief that Blake knew the truth, that I didn’t have to betray him, I was still scared. Especially now that hunger no longer ruled my brain.
Blake’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “Because that’s normal for me.”
I gave him a thoughtful look. “What are you?”
“Everything you need.” His gaze smoldered into mine and I squirmed in my chair as the heat between us blazed a trail to my core. “I’ll take good care of you, Ruby. Try not to worry.” He opened his arms in an expansive gesture. “Enjoy yourself. You’re in Morocco.”
I made a face. “I feel like I’m starring in a story of international intrigue.”
“I always liked those stories the best. The girls are always so beautiful.” He touched my hand, stirring my senses with a caress that made me blush and duck my head.
“And the hero is always handsome,” I said softly.
Blake gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “And he makes sure the girl is safe.” Still holding my hand, he stood and tugged me up with him. Pulling me against his lean frame, he whispered in my ear, “I think it might be time for our bedroom scene.”
I shivered as his deep voice vibrated through me. I would have giggled, too because the bedroom line was kind of over-the-top, but he kissed me so thoroughly I lost the ability to think.
Chapter Ten
The whole way up the stairs and down the hallway to his door, I struggled with conflicting feelings about sleeping with Blake again. On the one hand, the man played my body like a master musician. He savored my curves, which was a rare thing in a man. On the other, sex with him had side effects like kidnapping, mobsters and other badassery. I wasn’t sure how far I could trust him or if I even should.
He said he would keep me safe, but what did I know about him other than having watched his magic tricks and slept with him once? Nothing. I knew nothing. That made me nervous.
Yet my knees were weak, and my stomach fluttered with increasing desire at the idea of being with him one more time. Did it matter i
f we slept together again? I decided the answer was no just as we reached the door to his room. Sex made babies not mobsters and I was on birth control, so it was all good, right?
We crossed the threshold, locked in a kiss. Absently, I noted his room was similar to mine, but painted blue instead of red. Then he sucked on my bottom lip and I stopped paying attention to the decor.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He released my lip to kiss the line of my jaw and then nuzzle my neck.
“I missed you the second I knew you were gone,” I whispered, my lips skimming his cheek. “Why did you leave me like that?”
“I had to be here.” His hands found their way inside the caftan and inched toward my breasts. “I thought it was better for us both to make a clean break.”
I lifted the caftan higher, giving him easier access.“But it wasn’t.”
“I know. Can you forgive me?” His thumbs grazed my nipples making my breath stutter.
I kissed him in response. I was going to do this, I was going to sleep with him again and just hope it ended better than the first time. Hope is a flimsy thing to trust, but I wanted Blake the way a drowning person wants to breathe. The need for his touch had become an irrational craving.
We tumbled into bed where he slowly peeled off my clothes. First the caftan followed by the pants. The lack of underwear made him smile, and he took a moment to just look at me.
“Beautiful,” Blake murmured his voice going raspy with desire. He yanked his shirt over his head and quickly kicked off his pants.
Now it was my turn to say, “Beautiful.” He had the physique of an elite athlete. Not just six-pack abs, but those curves right by the hip bones, too. I wanted to run my tongue over every groove on his body and taste every sinful inch, but Blake had other ideas. He liked to be in control.
He straddled my stomach and kneaded my breasts, bunching them up until my nipples almost touched. “One night wasn’t enough for us.” He sucked one nipple, then the other, going back and forth between them in rapid succession.
I arched up toward him, my hips circling as the ache in my core intensified. “No, it wasn’t,” I agreed, running my hands through his dark hair.