Chapter Four
Anya was actually glad when Clint ran into her after yoga and told her he had an emergency and asked to reschedule for another night. She had forgotten she was on this stupid diet. Shira’s would have blown all of her hard work to smithereens. Spending the night on the treadmill and eating a rice cake as a treat was more virtuous, but it put her in a nasty mood.
It didn’t help that she spent most of the night tossing and turning, imagining all the possibilities of Clint being choked during sex. Frustration that wasn’t based on calories plagued her. It was a desire she had hoped to alleviate by watching her favorite swimmer this morning. Only she had been late and he was already in the pool. Clint hadn’t noticed her yet and she was a little aggravated, but that could have been because she wasn’t allowing herself any cream or sugar in her coffee. It sat there next to her, a bitter reminder that she had to lose some more weight.
A shadow fell over her.
“Are you looking down my shirt, Istvahn?” Anya asked, flipping a page.
“Your book is upside down.” Istvahn spoke in a monotone.
Anya reversed the direction of the book.
“Something I can help you with?” she asked.
“I need your help,” he said, the words coming out forced and fast.
Normally, Anya would have made him work for it a little more, but she owed him one for the nasty prank about the gun, and there was the fact that Istvahn never asked for anything. He used to be Alfie’s bodyguard, so he knew her from her Cesare days. “What’s up?”
Istvahn wore mirrored sunglasses and looked like a Secret Service agent with a pole up his ass. He was handsome in a Russian-mobster kind of way and kept his emotions so tightly wrapped he made Mr. Spock look like a screaming queen.
“Nefertiti has called out sick for the past two days.”
“Something tells me you don’t think she has the flu.” Anya swung her legs off the lounge chair and got up, making sure her sarong didn’t flash butt or thigh.
“Her phone goes straight to voice mail.”
“Well, if she’s not feeling well…”
“I’m worried about her,” he finished quietly.
“Have you gone to her room?”
“She has the security chain up.”
“Can’t you just kick it in?”
“Not without probable cause,” he said. “Besides, she said she’d Taser me if I did. She’d be upset if I went to Colleen. So I was wondering if you could get her to open up the door.”
This was the most she’d ever heard Istvahn speak in one go. For him, this was nearing hysterical. “Maybe you should just give her some space.” Anya looked up into his face, saw what it was costing him to ask. “Right, let’s go.”
Istvahn held on to her elbow to steady her as she slipped into her espadrilles. The whooshing sound of a body being leveraged out of the pool caught her attention. Clint stalked toward them dripping and nearly naked.
“Breathe,” Istvahn muttered to her under his breath.
Breathing was overrated. Water sluiced off Clint’s perfect body in long drips. His strong, muscled legs flexed hypnotically as he closed the gap between them. It was like a pornographic Mr. Darcy coming out of the lake in the Colin Firth film. Anya’s brain was trying to kick-start the coherency she’d lost at the sight of the little blue swimming trunks he wore. A trail of hair traveled up hard ridged abs and dusted over a wide chest. She was ogling the moisture beading on the breadth of his shoulders when he spoke.
“Is there a problem, Istvahn?”
Anya was suddenly between two very alpha males and the testosterone was making her eyes water. Clint was wet and gorgeous, while Istvahn was mildly amused at her side. Anya tried for words again but managed only to squeak when Clint stared down at her.
“Are you all right, Anya?”
He’s being protective! That was the only thing her dumb brain could come up with.
Istvahn’s pager went off. He glanced at it. “I have something to address. Anya, you’ll take care of that issue for me?”
“Huh?” Anya said, still trying to find a rational thought in her head.
“What we were discussing?” Istvahn ground out.
“Yes.” She snapped out of it. “Yes, of course. I’ll give you a full report around lunchtime.” She resisted the urge to salute.
Istvahn nodded and left the pool room.
“He can be a little intimidating,” Clint said. “I didn’t want him to railroad you into doing something you didn’t want to. It seemed like the two of you were having an argument.”
It did?
“No, it’s fine.” Anya was trying to work through the daze.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you in yoga.” He smiled at her and her heart tumbled over itself again.
Yoga? He was going to be in her yoga class? Damn. She’d have to set up in the back so he didn’t get a stretch-pants view of her ass. Her phone started ringing, effectively breaking the mood, and while she fiddled in her straw purse for it, Clint went back into the water like Poseidon.
“What?” Anya snapped.
“Have you dropped a size yet?”
Speaking of a large ass…
“I’ve got two words for you, Trey, and they’re not ‘happy birthday.’ ”
“Good, ’cause it ain’t my birthday.”
“I lost two pounds,” she said quietly into the phone.
“That’s all?”
“It’s only been two days,” she hissed.
“At this rate, it’s going to take fifty days to put a smile on the director’s face. We don’t have that kind of time.”
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I’m doing the best I can. Get off my back.”
“All right. I’ll check in at the end of the week. I’d like to see you double your efforts.”
He hung up before she could tell him what she’d like to see him double up on. Anya took a last lustful glance at Clint’s shoulders. She was in no mood now to get all cozy with him. Not when Trey’s words made her feel like an elephant. Tugging down on the back of her bathing suit, she left the pool to see what was up with Tee. She met no one when she crossed the lobby to the hidden elevators that went up to the staff’s wing. Anya knocked on Nefertiti’s door, making faces in front of the peephole. After a few minutes without any answer, she kept knocking until she got a reaction.
“Do you know what the hell time it is?” Nefertiti asked, cracking the door so all Anya could see was one malevolent eye.
“I’m still on Paris time. It’s like three in the afternoon.”
“You’ve been here three months. How can you still be on Paris time?”
“All right, you caught me. I don’t sleep. Let me in.”
“I’m not feeling well.” Nefertiti started to close the door.
Anya jammed her wedge sandal in. “Don’t fuck up my pedicure.”
“Is that whore red?”
“It’s your mother’s color,” Anya said, baring her teeth.
“Go away, I’m not up for a fight,” Nefertiti said with a small smile.
“Good, neither am I. Are you contagious?”
Nefertiti gave a short bark of laughter. “No.”
“Open up. Otherwise, it’s going to be Istvahn with bolt cutters.”
“Honestly,” Nefertiti said. “Get your big foot out of the way and I’ll undo the chain.”
Nefertiti closed the door, and for a moment Anya thought she’d been suckered, but the door opened with a squeak.
“My foot is not big. It’s zaftig.” Anya breezed into the room.
“It’s a surfboard. I don’t care how many Swarovski crystals you glue on your toes.” Nefertiti locked and bolted the door.
“Are you expecting a home invasion?” Anya moved a bronze chiffon throw pillow and sank down on the couch.
Nefertiti looked tired and run-down. She was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. Her normally shiny black locks were matted and dull.
“Please tell me this is the flu. I’m beginning to get worried.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Anya was struck dumb for the second time that day. Her mouth dropped open. “Shut up!”
Nefertiti burst into tears.
Anya rushed over to hug her. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine.”
Nefertiti just wailed louder, sobbing into Anya’s satin cover-up.
“Or maybe not. Maybe it’s Rosemary’s baby and you’re about to spawn an evil that will eat the world.”
“Don’t make me laugh, you asshole.” Nefertiti hiccupped.
“Are you sure?”
Nefertiti leaned away and wiped the tears. “I can’t stop puking.”
“Maybe it’s food poisoning.”
“I’m forgetful and tired all the time.” Nefertiti crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at the floor.
“So am I, and I’m not pregnant.”
“I peed on a stick and it said ‘Pregnant.’ ”
“I’ve got nothing,” Anya said. “Wait! Did you see a doctor to confirm?”
“No, I keep peeing on sticks waiting for a different answer.”
“Did you get one?”
Nefertiti nodded. “Yeah. It’s about three to one.”
“We need to get you to a doctor.”
“I can’t.” Nefertiti unlatched herself from Anya and plunked down on the couch.
“Why not?”
“It’ll show up on my medical insurance and I don’t want anyone to know yet.”
“Have you told the father?” Anya sat down next to her, holding her hand.
“No.”
“Who is the father?”
Nefertiti winced. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to be involved.”
Anya’s eyes grew wide and she pointed to the door. “Is it the big, bad Russian wolf who keeps threatening to blow your door down if you don’t let him in?”
She nodded.
“You slept with Istvahn?” Anya tried for a mental image of Istvahn unclenching enough to do the horizontal mambo, but her mind wouldn’t go there.
“We haven’t made a habit of it. Our first time was after the tequila tasting on Cinco de Mayo.”
Anya’s lips clamped together. She refused to make a snarky remark. It wasn’t the time. She couldn’t stop the “Real-leee?” from drawling out, though.
Nefertiti glared at her. “We weren’t drunk. Just happy. It was pretty intense and we both decided to cool it off and remain friends and professionals. Aside from a few kisses, that was it until Halloween.”
“I’m sensing a theme,” Anya said.
“And, well, maybe I was on a bit of a mission.”
“I feel like I should be popping popcorn for this.” Anya tucked her legs up underneath her and got comfortable.
“I decided to see if it really was the tequila talking. So I dressed up like a belly dancer and wandered into Club Inferno to work for tips and to see if anyone would want to take me to the VIP room.”
“What happened?”
“I got taken up to the VIP room all right, but it wasn’t by one of our members.” Nefertiti smiled at the memory. “It was even better without tequila. But the next day? I got the workplace-romance speech.”
“He’s an ass,” Anya said.
“Yeah, well, I made it a point to show him what he was missing. All I got out of it was a few more kisses that I felt I blackmailed him into. I lied to myself for too long and now I can’t lie to myself anymore.”
“Well, we need to find out for sure.”
“I told you, I can’t have this on my insurance. Not yet.”
“We’re going to go see Mallory at the shelter and see if she can hook you up.”
Nefertiti made a face. “I don’t want to go there without an armed escort and there’s no way to get one without Istvahn finding out.”
“Leave that to me. Now, go get dressed. We’re not going to Walmart.”
“You’re the one in the bathing suit.”
Anya hurried back to her own room to change. She called ahead so Mallory could make arrangements to be there along with the ultrasound technician. Scurrying as fast as her Giuseppe Zanottis allowed, Anya went to the dojo and stood at the back as Max finished up his self-defense class. Clint noticed her right away and made a beeline for her.
The karate gi he wore made him look all Chuck Norris. Now, if she could only convince him to go along with her crazy plan.
“I need your help. You and Max.”
“What’s wrong?” he said, motioning Max over.
“I need to go to Mallory’s shelter, but Istvahn can’t find out about it.”
Clint’s face darkened. “You don’t have to be afraid of him.” He cracked his knuckles and shook out his shoulders.
“It’s not like that,” Anya said with a gasp, realizing what they might be thinking.
“Are you all right?” Max looked her over as if he was afraid she was bleeding or had broken bones. “New Haven’s ER is closer.”
“I’m fine. It’s Mallory I need to see. Look, I’m all right. It’s complicated. Please. Can you both meet me in the parking lot at C-seven in a half hour?”
“Does Mallory know you’re looking for her?” Max asked.
“I called her. Please, though, we need to do this quickly and quietly.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Clint said, holding her hand.
If it had been any other time, Anya would have blushed. But she was trembling with nerves. She didn’t want to get on Istvahn’s bad side, but she couldn’t betray her friend either.
“I’ll be there,” Max said.
Anya reluctantly let go of Clint’s hand to text Nefertiti that the plan was a go.
“Are you all right?” Clint asked. He held her elbow as if he was afraid she was going to swoon into a dead faint without him.
“Yeah, I’m great. It’s kind of like playing Stratego, but using real people.”
“Don’t run into the bomb.”
“I am the bomb.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
He cleared his throat and looked away.
Great, she was making him uncomfortable. Her next call was to Colleen. “Do you know where Istvahn is?”
“It’s ten o’clock in the fucking morning,” Colleen snarled, and slammed the phone down.
“Whoops,” Anya said, grimacing at Clint. “Come on, we’ve got to go to her office and find the duty log. I need to make sure Istvahn is as far away from the parking lot as humanly possible when we leave.”
“Can I ask why?”
Anya bit her lip. “I want to tell you, but it’s complicated.”
“Are you in trouble, baby?” Clint held her by the shoulders as he turned her to face him.
“Not yet.” She gave a nervous smile. If the situation weren’t so dire, she’d have flirted more with him, or slapped him upside the head for calling her “baby.”
“I mean another kind of trouble.” He looked down at her stomach.
Mortification flooded her and she forced that smile onto her face. The one that said, You didn’t hurt me. You don’t have the power. It was a fake, brittle smile but it fit on her like a pair of comfortable jeans. She tossed off an equally carefree laugh. “No, not pregnant. Just fat.”
“What?” Clint dropped his hands in shock. “I wasn’t saying…that is…You’re just…”
So help me God, if he says I’ve got a pretty face, I’m going to smack him. Anya held up a hand. “Forget it. Let’s just go.”
That just damned figured. She had actually thought he might be into her. But no, he thought she’d gotten knocked up. Worse—he thought she looked knocked up. Her steps were angry and fast as she walked into Colleen’s office. Nefertiti’s desk was in the anteroom so she could announce visitors. Since Tee was currently waiting for her signal that the coast was clear, Anya launched herself into Nefertiti’s chair and booted up her computer.
What’s your password? she texted. I n
eed to find out where Istvahn is.
Anya refused to look at Clint, who ambled in, closing the door behind him. Nefertiti gave her the password and she was in. She had to squint around before she found the duty logs.
“Look, about what I said,” Clint began.
Anya refused to look up because she didn’t want to start to cry. Istvahn didn’t really have a schedule. Apparently, he came and went like the wind. Crap.
“You were acting really squirrelly and wanting to go see Mallory.”
“And your first thought was that I was pregnant, not that I got the shit kicked out of me?” Anya snapped, then forced herself to back off at the flash of hurt in his expression.
“That was my first thought, but you seemed fine. And then I didn’t know what to think.”
“It seemed pretty clear to me.” She pointed to her stomach. “You thought I had a bun in the oven.”
“Just-just because of the way Istvahn’s been acting lately and when I saw you and him this morning,” Clint stuttered. “I guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
“I’ll say.” She shut down the computer and moved around the desk. They would just have to hope that Istvahn wasn’t watching the parking garage or his cameras when they left. She didn’t think he’d bar the gates to prevent them from leaving. But she wasn’t entirely sure of that. Anya was about to leave the office when Clint grabbed her by the arm and swung her around.
“Will you look at me, for crying out loud?”
Anya forced her chin up and stared into his eyes. They were so open and honest she could practically see into his soul. Damn it, why did he have to be a nice guy? Jerks she could handle.
“You don’t look pregnant. You look damn hot.”
And then he kissed her. It wasn’t a “sorry” peck on the cheek but a full-blown tongue kiss that had her holding on for dear life. Shock held her in place, and he took advantage of that to drag her in so close that she half came out of her shoes. Kissing Clint was a fantasy she’d indulged herself with, but the fantasy didn’t come close to the erotic reality of his mouth on hers. She let go, let the worry about the play, stupid Rita, and Istvahn just fly out the window. For the first time since Cesare, she rested against a man’s chest and enjoyed the hot slide of his lips without worrying what he was thinking. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his strong back. His groan delighted her. His hand slid down to her ass.
Longing: Club Inferno Page 4