by Meg Ripley
She peeked out the peephole into the building’s hallway, but the sight that greeted her wasn’t what she’d expected. A tall, middle-aged man stood on the other side of the door, and although his features were kind, he wore an aggravated expression on his face. He was well-dressed, so perhaps he was a lawyer, but upon closer inspection, it was obvious his clothing was a uniform, not an upscale suit.
A private detective? No, they didn’t wear uniforms. An undercover police officer? It was technically possible, but she didn’t get the impression the man was involved in law enforcement or detective work. He seemed somehow familiar though.
She could keep silent and pretend no one was home, but then she’d never know who the man was or why he was there. The very thought of retreating irritated her; she wasn’t a coward. “Who is it?” she asked before she could change her mind.
“My name is Steven James, Ma’am. I’m looking for Miss Ava Winter,” he whispered loudly. Obviously, the man was aware that others would be sleeping at this hour—just like she’d been only a moment before.
“Why are you looking for Ava Winter at—” she glanced quickly at the clock on the wall, “—five-thirty in the morning?”
“I’m here on behalf of Mr. Cade Stryker.”
Cade Stryker? Why was he sending a man to her door practically in the middle of the night? If he thought she was going to be flattered over a late-night booty call, the man was clearly insane. With her ire rising quickly, she unlocked the door and flung it open.
“I’m Ava Winter. Can you please tell me why Mr. Stryker has someone pounding down my door this early in the morning, or…this late at night?”
“He just sent me to call on you, Ma’am. He was hoping you would join him for breakfast.” The pained look on his face told her he wasn’t any fonder of banging on a woman’s door before sunrise than she was.
“I’m sorry Mr. Stryker sent you here unnecessarily, but if you’d tell him Ava Winter isn’t interested in drinks or breakfast with him, I’d appreciate it.”
The man looked at her with a perplexed expression on his face. Apparently, he wasn’t any more accustomed to women turning down the ostentatious billionaire than the billionaire was himself. “Um, if you’d just come with me, Ma’am, I’m sure the two of you can sort this out.”
He’d begun to look at her—really look at her—like he was trying to see behind the mask she wore to the woman underneath it. Strange.
“I can’t do that, Mr. James. I understand you’re just doing your job, but I’m going back to bed now.” She smiled kindly at the man, feeling a little bit sorry for him despite his unwelcome intrusion and strange gaze. She had a feeling Cade Stryker didn’t take rejection well—mainly because he’d never been on the receiving end of it. “Hopefully, once you’ve told Mr. Stryker I’m not interested in joining him for breakfast, he’ll let you do the same. Good night.”
The man met her eyes for a moment more, but then he nodded once cordially, and turned to leave. “Fat chance,” she heard him whisper under his breath as he started back down the hallway.
She closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief—or maybe it was a sigh of frustration. She was relieved the man hadn’t been there for the reason she’d been dreading, but at the same time, the nerve of Cade Stryker to be sending a man to her home to fetch her left her so irritated, there was no way she was going back to sleep. She stomped across the living room and knocked on her bedroom door.
“It’s okay, Lexi. You can come out now.”
The door creaked open seconds later. “What was that about?” There were remnants of trepidation in her tone, but she wasn’t in a panic like she’d been moments ago.
“Just some rich prick who thinks a little too highly of himself, that’s all. Why don’t you go back to bed for a while. It’s still early.”
“I guess so. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Good night, Kiddo.”
Lexi padded down the hall to her room then and Hope heard the squeak of the mattress springs as the girl flopped back on the twin-size bed. She smiled. When Lexi had first moved in, she’d slept with her door closed and locked every night. She couldn’t even remember precisely when that had changed, but she didn’t know the last time Lexi had bothered locking her door, or even closing it for that matter.
The irritation she’d felt gave way to something much more pleasant: the peace that came from knowing she’d provided Lexi a haven where she could heal and become whole again, something that no one had ever done for Hope.
She kept that feeling at the forefront of her mind as she dragged herself to the small kitchen and set a pot of coffee to brew. If she was going to be awake at such an ungodly hour, she might as well have a good amount of caffeine coursing through her veins so she could at least be productive.
Chapter 3
Hope counted back from thirty, and the moment she hit zero, the music sounded. Adam began his descent onto the stage from the rafters. She couldn’t see him, but they’d rehearsed the entrance often enough that she could envision him clearly. She counted back again from thirty, and right on cue, her hydraulic platform started upward from beneath the stage. Strands of flash paper on invisible wire lit up around her, creating a mass of swirling fire.
Once upon a time, all this magic had fascinated her. A levitating man, a woman cut in half and then miraculously put back together; it left her awestruck when she was a child. Since working as Adam’s assistant though, all of it had lost its glamour. Or maybe she’d lost her enthusiasm for magic long before then. Life had a way of slowly replacing everything that was mystical and beautiful with stark reality and cold, hard truths. Now, all the things she once found magical were nothing more than trickery and sleight of hand.
Adam touched down just as the last of the fiery streamers disappeared and she forced a bright smile on her face for the audience. The show was officially underway, and she began to prep him for his mystical, mid-air escape from a straightjacket. It wasn’t so mystical though, given that he’d dislocated his shoulder multiple times as a child and he could now simply slip it in and out of its socket at will.
With the task complete, she looked out over the audience, discerning the skeptics from the spellbound as Adam was hoisted up to the ceiling. If she put extra emphasis on keeping the skeptics distracted with her long legs and cleavage throughout the show, they were less likely to be focused on debunking the illusions. In fact, in her experience, they wound up just as satisfied with the show.
But as she glanced around the room, reading postures, expressions and unconscious movements, she saw him. He was standing there at the back of the large theater, just like he had been the night prior. He was watching her, she was sure of it, even at this distance. Though she couldn’t make out his details clearly, she could feel his eyes on her. She would have dismissed it like she did every other gaze in the room that was eyeing the bare skin her skimpy costume exposed, but she couldn’t. Or worse, she didn’t want to dismiss it, so much so, that she almost missed her cue as Adam freed himself and the straightjacket fell to the ground amid a cacophony of applause.
Damn it. The man was arrogant and insufferable, and he was driving her to distraction.
She forced her gaze away and shoved every thought of him from her mind. She pulled the thick, heavy chain from the box at the back of the stage and walked back to where Adam stood.
“For this next act, I’ll need a volunteer from the audience,” he announced. “Is there anyone who would come up here with my beautiful assistant and I, and verify for me—and for everyone else—that the chain I’m about to wrap around the lovely Ava’s neck is, indeed, precisely what it looks like?”
Nearly every hand in the room shot into the air, but it was only one hand that caught her attention. He was already starting forward, striding confidently down the center aisle. A hush fell over the crowd as row after row saw him making his way to the stage. To the best of her knowledge, he’d never participated in any act or show that had
taken place at his hotel, so why now? Did he know the real reason she’d turned him down the other night, that it was her body’s own response to him that had sent her running in the opposite direction? Or did he have such a flawless track record with women that he wouldn’t tolerate a single blemish?
He ascended the stairs before she could think about it any further and he strode toward her with the same confident gait.
“Mr. Cade Stryker, ladies and gentlemen. We are lucky enough to have our gracious host help us with our performance this evening,” Adam announced, encouraging a round of applause.
The man seemed unperturbed by Adam’s introduction and the audience’s brief ovation. He didn’t turn around to face the audience once he’d reached the stage; instead, he stood no more than a foot’s distance from her, locking her eyes in his gaze.
A split second later, Adam tapped her shoulder imperceptibly. He was worried about her reaction to the hotel owner and wanted to keep her on track. Had anything ever made her slip up on stage before? Never! There was no way in hell she’d let the giant ego standing next to her change that now.
She held the chain in her hands out to him as Adam began his speech. “Now, if you’ll take the chain from my assistant, please verify that it is, in fact, as real as it looks.”
Mr. Stryker lifted the chain, grazing his fingers along the palms of her hands as he did. She fought her body’s urge to shiver in response to the tiny ripples of pleasure that coursed through her body.
“It appears real to me,” he announced, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Excellent,” Adam told him as he took the chain. “Now, if you’ll be patient with me for just a moment, Mr. Stryker, I’m going to have you help me pull this chain right through Miss Winter’s neck.”
Everyone in the audience gasped in shock at Adam’s announcement, and they sat just a little nearer to the edge of their seats. She tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes, and plastered a shocked, slightly fearful expression on her face instead, just like what was expected of her. Adam approached her then, wrapping the chain around her neck slowly, drawing out the crowd’s anticipation. Finally, he made a knot in the chain in front of her neck, just to keep it nice and secure.
“Mr. Stryker, if you don’t mind,” he motioned for the man to stand behind her and he obliged easily. “Now, if you’ll grab onto the ends of the chain, and when I say, ‘pull’ I want you to yank as hard as you can. We want the chain to pass right through Miss Winter’s neck in one, swift motion, and fortunately, I believe you have the muscle necessary to pull this off. Don’t you agree?” he turned to the audience who cheered together in response.
She couldn’t see him, but she could feel the heat that radiated from his body and she could easily envision the hard, muscular arms the audience was applauding. She felt his hands on the ends of the chains a second later. Usually, she could feel the tremor of the volunteer’s hands lightly vibrating the chain, but she felt nothing now. Was the man not the least bit concerned he might strangle her, or worse? It was possible Adam had clued the man in ahead of time, but that wasn’t Adam’s M.O. He preferred to keep everyone in the dark to make each illusion as authentic-looking as possible. Apparently, Mr. Stryker just wasn’t the least bit concerned about her or her neck.
“One…” Adam began the countdown. “Two…” A hush fell over the audience. “Three…Pull!”
Cade pulled hard and just like Adam had said, it appeared that the chain passed right through her neck, and the crowd applauded enthusiastically.
She couldn’t help but notice that while it had looked like one, swift motion, she’d felt a change in pressure as the chain began to tug on her. Had he finally felt a split second of hesitation? Did he really think he could have pulled back then even if the trick had gone horribly wrong? That would have required quicker reflexes than she’d ever seen.
“Ava, please show the audience that Mr. Stryker has left your beautiful neck unscathed and very much still attached to the rest of your lovely body.”
She looked up at the ceiling and then turned her head from left to right, and the audience seemed satisfied.
“Would you care to inspect your handiwork, Mr. Stryker,” Adam asked, motioning to her neck.
Wait a minute. This wasn’t part of the act. She turned to glare discreetly at Adam. She’d be shooting daggers from her eyes if she could call up a little of her own magic at that moment. He just smiled serenely as Cade stepped closer, still standing behind her. She swallowed her agitation, though she’d definitely be having words with Adam after the show about this little stunt.
Nevertheless, she remained still as she felt Cade’s left hand against her bare hip, lightly holding her there. His right hand touched her then, his warm fingers trailing from the back of her neck to the front. Once there, he continued further, his fingers reaching up behind her ear while his palm pressed against the flesh of her neck. It was the most delicate, most erotic chokehold she could ever have imagined. It was over only a second after it had begun as his fingers started back the way they’d come. She couldn’t hide the shiver of arousal that raced through her body though, as it sparked a fire deep inside her.
“She’s flawless,” he told Adam and the audience in a husky tone that fanned the flames inside her, and then he dropped his hands. She resisted her body’s desperate urge to follow, to seek out his fingers. She breathed deeply instead, hoping neither Cade Stryker nor the audience had noticed the way her body had responded to him. She didn’t hear what Adam said next; she was too busy focusing on breathing deep and maintaining her outward calm. Seconds later, though, Cade descended from the stage, returning to his place at the back of the room amid a flurry of applause.
Good. With some distance between them, she could focus her attention on the rest of the show, and that was precisely what she did. She’d never admit that her eyes grazed across the back of the room repeatedly, looking for where he stood, wondering if he was staring back at her. She didn’t see him though; not once for the remainder of the performance.
It was better that way, even if she couldn’t help but to wonder why he’d left.
****
“Great show, Gorgeous.” Adam congratulated her after the longest standing ovation they’d ever had.
“Yeah, it was great,” she eyed him angrily, still irritated with him over his unexpected antics on stage. “What do you say next time we let Cade Stryker put his paws all over you?”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t swing that way, Hon, or else you wouldn’t have been the one with the rope around your neck tonight.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, as if she hadn’t grasped his meaning already. “Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy having a handsome billionaire’s hands on you. It wasn’t like I gave him a free pass or anything, and besides, the audience loved it.”
“I guess.” She’d argue, but he was right—at least the part about the audience loving the extra little show.
“And you know, there’s no reason you can’t have a little fun of your own now that the show’s over. A private after-party, if you know what I mean?”
“Why Adam, have you decided to give women a try? I’m flattered, but you’re not really my type.”
“Very funny. I know I’m not your type, but I bet tall and muscular with eyes a person could get lost in is right up your alley. Filthy rich doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” she replied dryly.
“Come on, you could use a little fun, Hope. I don’t think I’ve known anyone who could use letting loose and having a good time more. You don’t have to marry the guy. Have a couple glasses of champagne, jump his bones and you can go back to warding off the world with your ten-foot pole in the morning.”
“Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I’d rather spend the night cuddling up with a porcupine than with that spoiled, arrogant bastard.”
“Is that so?” a deep, husky voice spoke from no more than a yard behind her. She knew
who it was without turning around. Did the man sneak around like a cat? She hadn’t even heard the door open, which of course led her to wonder exactly how long he’d been standing there. Adam hadn’t said a word!
She turned around slowly, reluctantly, but there was no point in pretending the man wasn’t there. “Good evening, Mr. Stryker.”
“Please, call me Cade. I don’t think anyone who’s let me touch them like you have should have to be so formal, do you?”
“Mr. Stryker, you don’t think that was anything more than part of the show, do you?”
“I happen to know that little scene had never been a part of the show before, and trust me, I’m flattered.”
“Well, don’t be. It was Adam’s idea.” What else could she say? She had tried to brush it off and he’d caught her.
“You don’t honestly think I’m a spoiled, arrogant bastard, do you? It usually takes someone at least three or four hours with me to come to that conclusion. You, Miss Winter, have not even given me an hour of your time, so I think your judgment is rather unfair, don’t you?”
She always had a quick retort at the ready, so why the hell couldn’t she come up with one now?
“Have coffee with me, Miss Winter. Just one coffee—that’s fairly harmless, isn’t it? And then I won’t even ask that you wait the customary three to four hours to place judgment. If you still feel I am a spoiled, arrogant bastard, then I’ll graciously accept your conclusion.”
It did seem fair—wait, was she insane? Since when did he get to decide how long she had to wait before summing a person up?
He took a step toward her then, and she really wished he hadn’t. His nearness was overwhelming, but not in a way that made her feel suffocated. It served to make every fiber of her body keenly aware of him; of the breadth of his chest and the taut muscles of his arms; of his brilliant, green eyes and the way they were trying to peer into her soul; of the way his hands had felt against her on stage.