Seven Books for Seven Lovers
Page 81
The penthouse had been designed to look like an exquisite and extravagant pied-à-terre: a private apartment in the very center of Paris. It had gold walls and travertine floors, exquisite artwork and furnishings, multiple terraces, and 360-degree views that overlooked the entire city. There was an inner garden, a marble bathtub and spa, a lavish bedroom, and an outer balcony with a daybed. This smaller, tucked away, more intimate balcony was where Chas took Susannah.
“To get started,” he said. “I thought you might like some champagne. And that if I could get you just a bit tipsy—”
“You’d have your way with me?” She smiled, thinking that she’d have to play this just right. Like she was buying it hook, line, and sinker.
“Not exactly. I thought perhaps you’d let me take care of you. In every way imaginable. With Paris laid out in front of you. And me at your feet.”
“Well, my goodness, Tex,” she breathed. “You do drive a hard bargain.”
“ ‘Hard’ is the appropriate word, Legs. You’ve really done it this time.”
“Well, let’s hope I have,” she said, furious with herself for getting so turned on by him again. “I do think you owe me one for running out on me.”
“Indeed, I do,” he said. “Let me start with this.” He lifted her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs about his waist. He was far stronger than she realized; his muscles weren’t just built for show. Damn him for that. He lifted her over to the daybed and set her down, gently, earnestly, and with just a hint of the devil in his eyes. And then, sitting next to her, he kissed her.
This was a different level of kiss entirely, and it blew Susannah apart at the seams. Here she was, ready to keep her boundaries and hold her own against this con man and then—this? Now she was struggling just to remember her own name. His lips were soft on hers, his arms surrounding her, his tongue searching within her. She fought to remember the intel, the information, to keep him from getting to her core. But with each moment that passed she felt as if he were delving deeper inside her, to her heart, her soul, her being. She was so unsettled that she stopped him and pulled back. And that’s when she saw the look of confusion and sadness in his eyes. “Chas . . .” she asked, searchingly, thrown off for real now, “is everything all right?”
He swallowed, and his eyes seemed to cloud over. “I want to give you something. Something that’s important to me. May I?”
“Of course.”
He reached beneath the collar of his shirt and pulled out a leather cord that held a silver charm on it, a Celtic design of interlocking strands. Was it a sword? Perhaps a symbol from a coat of arms? And then she remembered his unusual candelabra in his bedroom. “Is it a tree?”
“It is, indeed. A tree of life. It was my mother’s, actually. And it has been in my family for generations.”
“My god, Chas,” Susannah gasped. She was truly surprised by his actions. Was this just another game to him? But she couldn’t figure out the angle he was playing. “Why would you want to give it to me?”
“Honestly, Susannah,” he said awkwardly, “you mean more to me than any woman I’ve ever met. You mean the very world to me. And each moment I spend with you, well—I only want to spend more. Will you accept this?”
There was a long pause. Susannah was truly confused now, and deeply pissed because of it. She was going to have to ask him for the truth, the real truth, or she was never going to make it through the night. She reached next to her, grabbed the glass of pink champagne, and chugged it. Wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand, she hiccuped, letting off steam, and spoke sharply. “Before I do, would you mind telling me about the tall blonde you’re fucking? And does she get a family tree too?” Then she hiccuped again, louder this time, and waited for his response.
‡‡‡
LISA BEE SAT in Le Bar, the lounge of the Hotel George V, sipping her fourth pastis. Of Scottish stock, she could drink the world under the table, with the exception of her own family. The Goudreaus regularly held drinking tournaments in which she and her brothers downed shots of Crown Royal for nothing more than a tattered plaid flask bearing the family crest. But it was more than that. She loved proving to her brothers that she could hold her own. As the youngest of five, and the only girl, she learned from an early age how to clean her plate quickly, how to throw a great sucker punch, and how to drink like a Scotsman.
She, Jackson, and the Boss were all connected by headset, and in addition, she was working steadily on her laptop, which had surveillance of the penthouse from every angle. Jackson had done a fine job outfitting the place: he had eyes and ears all over the joint, and her screen was filled with images. Just after Chas gave Susannah “the family tree,” Lisa Bee snorted and said aloud (in a heightened version of her N’awlins twang), “Laissez le bon temps rouler, baby.” Then she took a deep drink and said, “Fuck this. I’m gonna need some bourbon.”
“As you wish, madame,” said a sultry voice, and she turned to find Jackson holding two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, his favorite. He always traveled with a private stash.
“Aw, hell.” Lisa Bee chortled, secretly thrilled to have Jackson by her side. “What the heck are you doin’ off shift?” This was Lisa Bee’s first time in such a dangerous situation; she normally preferred to stay behind a computer screen. But she recognized that this was a big part of her training, that which would enable her to go further in her field. She had come a long way from being a dorky little sister who only had hopes of entering the family fish business to a savvy computer operative who was the organizer behind a private investigation firm. All the same, she felt great relief at having Jackson’s company. She always felt safe when he was around, and he always made her laugh.
“Well, Material Girl,” Jackson said conspiratorially, “the Boss was discovered in the falafel truck and had to alert the Paris police force. That’s why he’s been off headset. So you might say the eyes of the city are upon us. I figured I’d drink a little Jackie D and operate from here.”
“Shit,” she exclaimed. “Bossman must be pissed. We still a go on all fronts?”
“We’re still a go. I’m keeping ‘the bun’ warm and ready.”
Lisa Bee smiled and poured them both a shot. “Why am I not surprised?”
They both drank the shots, and Lisa Bee refilled their glasses, at which point her eyes caught Jackson’s name tag. “Oh, Jackie! Hugh Jebals? Really?”
His eyes sparkled as he sidled closer to her. “Well,” he said, “it’s very inoffensive when pronounced in a French accent. You don’t pronounce the ‘h’ or the ‘s’ and the ‘j’ is soft, like Zsa Zsa Gabor.”
“And what about if you happen to be doing shots with an American?”
“Oh,” he said, doing his second shot, “then it’s simply accurate.” And with that, he winked and poured them both another drink.
Lisa Bee laughed. “You and your jokes,” she said, hitting him on the arm. “You know sometimes you could just be real.”
His eyes caught hers, and for a brief instant she was alarmed at the vulnerability she saw there. “For you, Bee? All you have to do is ask.”
‡‡‡
THERE WAS A LONG awkward silence after Susannah dropped the bomb on Chas, and she used it to hiccup several more times. Fuck being a lady, fuck it. Here was the man of her dreams and they were on opposite sides and he was fucking someone else. She had nothing to hide, and no reason to pretend. She reached down and unzipped her boots, stretching her toes as her feet touched the cool floor. She yanked her dress up a bit—what little bit it could go—and hoisted herself around to a comfortable position. She poured herself another glass of champagne, letting it bubble up and out of the glass and all over the floor. And she waited. She waited for anything that would make this awful turn of events better.
Chas cleared his throat. He, too, poured a glass of champagne, and gulped it down. Then he looked at Susannah, with both admiration and apology in his eyes. “I’m happy you like the
champagne. I chose it especially for you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about the champagne, asswipe, and I’m drinking it too fast to taste it,” she replied acidly, still waiting for his response. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on, or do you want me to get up and walk the fuck outta here?”
Chas swallowed thickly and sat down. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I do want to tell you what’s up. But I’m scared it’s going to compromise you, and me, and what it is that I’m really doing here. So there’s a lot I really can’t tell you, much as I would like to.”
“Okay,” she said, willing to give an inch, but that was all. “You could start.”
“Well, I’m a bit nervous that I’m being watched. Bugged somehow.”
“What on earth do you mean?” she asked, a bit nervous that she and the others had been caught tailing him.
“I don’t mean your people. I expect they’re here. I mean the men I’m working for.”
Susannah gulped. Of course Chas would expect she’d come with her team—he was sharp as a tack, and he knew the industry. But was he being followed by his own people? And why?
“Well, Chas,” Susannah said, “We did a full sweep of your suite. We know you’re not bugged. So what the fuck are you talking about?”
He took a deep breath, then his words came out in a rush. “The woman you saw me with is an undercover operative. She had a tremendous connection to my father and has some inside information that could help me with something I’m working on. But I can’t tell you what, or I may put you in great danger.”
“Hmm. And why should I believe you, Chas?” She was truly intrigued now and wondered how much of it was true.
“Two reasons. One: I am giving you my family’s heirloom, literally the family tree that has been in the family for hundreds of years. And two . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Yes?” she asked, eager in spite of herself.
“I’ve never gotten close to a woman before. Not really. Not close enough to tell them this. But I want to tell you—that is, I’ve wanted to tell you this since the moment I met you.” He looked away and took another drink of champagne.
“What is it?”
He hesitated and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “The men I’m working for are slime. They are despicable people and are criminals of the worst order. I hate myself for getting involved with them in the first place and hate them for taking me down this road. I’ll help you nail them. It would be my privilege to do so. I can get you anything you want: locations, numbers, background information, where they hide the money, and where they dump the bodies. But there’s something I need to do first . . . and I need the time to do it. Can you honor my request, and I’ll honor you in turn?”
Susannah poured herself another glass of champagne and took a deep breath. She would say yes, and continue to tail him, because at this point, she didn’t know what to believe. She was quite conflicted about his actual feelings, and she didn’t want to be taken in by deception. Perhaps this was the best she could get out of him, a bunch of what were clearly half-truths. And what now? Now it was time to do what she had come here to do. Fuck his sincerity, his stories, and his goddamn family tree. Fuck her heart. Fuck his eyes. Fuck possibility. She would do what she was made for. She would take down her mark. She would pretend to give him space and take him for all he was worth. Besides which, if this was all there was ever going to be, she could enjoy the rest of the evening here, in this Parisian paradise, in his bed.
“Yes,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes and lying with every piece of her soul, “yes, I will honor you.”
‡‡‡
CHAS INHALED DEEPLY and looked into Susannah’s open and stormy eyes. He would have told her everything—was he crazy?—about his father, the men he hunted, Tyka’s information, Pierre’s role in the scheme. He was getting soft, he was falling too fast. It was the surest way to get her killed and compromise everything he’d ever worked for. Thankfully, he’d found his brain where he’d dropped it and had stopped himself before it was too late. He’d give her a taste, of course—a bit of truth, something to hold on to. And he’d meant what he’d said: as soon as he could kill the Italian he would, and Susannah and her company could take down the rest. He was happy to share in the winnings. All he’d wanted was revenge. But now he wanted something more: her safety.
“Well,” he said, “I’m happy you believe me. It was a difficult afternoon, and it seems that everyone had eyes on me. But now we have the evening, and it’s just you and I, and the world can’t touch us here. How would you like to enjoy the spa and let ourselves escape for a bit?”
He smiled as her eyes grew wide. “The spa?”
“The bathroom, I mean.” He chuckled. “There’s an overflow infinity bathtub with jets, and a chromotherapy system, and I’ve prepared it, all of it, for you.”
“A chromotherapy system? Pardon my French, but what the fuck is that?”
He smiled broadly. “Mood lighting, sweetheart.”
“Oh, my!” she breathed. “Well, I’d love to join you, on one condition.”
“Anything,” he replied.
“You wait here while I ready myself. I want to look perfect for you. May I?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, mouth watering at the thought, “take your time. I’ll wait out here and enjoy the scenery. Though I’d enjoy looking at you so much more.” And with that he pulled her into another kiss, one that made him swell with passion, hold her tighter, and enter every part of her mouth with his tongue.
She moaned gently and deftly pulled herself away, putting a finger on his lips. “Wait for me,” she said breathlessly. “It’ll only be a minute.”
And with that, she was off, and he was left gazing at the Paris skyline, so hard he could barely stand.
‡‡‡
SUSANNAH WENT INSIDE and grabbed her purse by the elevator, making her way to the master bedroom. The stakes were raised now that Chas knew they were all there; she didn’t think she’d have much time to get what she needed. She took out the brown silk babydoll she had shoved inside, the one that held her breasts up and revealed just the very bottom of her ass, and grabbed the box of bourbon-filled chocolates. The Boss had given her the chocolate narcotics from Doc Scrubs, who created them for evenings such as this: it was part of his “Romantic Revenge” line. They were dark chocolate salted caramels filled with bourbon, and the ones with an “x” on top also had a narcotic inside. It was the perfect thing for a romantic recon job: it took about two hours for the narcotic to work, so you could have a great screw before screwing over your partner. Susannah figured it was perfect timing. She could offer the chocolates, and then they could play. Then she’d take the remains of her dignity and run.
But first: the hot dog. As it turned out, the hot dog Doc Scrubs had sent was also an external hard drive that could be connected, wirelessly, to any computer within a five-foot range. The bun served as a charging station and translation device, and Jackson currently had that downstairs at the ready. Thankfully, Doc Scrubs had made it for a dual purpose, as it appeared, without the bun, to be a sleek and sassy vibrator. Romantic revenge, indeed! Reaching into her purse, she withdrew the hot dog, turned it on, and waited. It found a computer nearby and a phone. This time they were prepared. Chas was far too sharp to use the hotel’s network: instead, he used his own phone as a mobile hot spot. Jackson had managed, through one of the hidden cams, to get footage of Chas entering his phone password; from there Lisa Bee was able to access his mobile hot spot password and get on his network. And then they were in. Susannah programmed Scrubs’s device to download the contents of both the phone and computer, waited for it to do so, then changed into the babydoll with the matching panties. She brought her purse back out and left it by the elevator door. Then she sent a quick text to Jackson:
The dog is cooked. And he knows you’re all here. So make it fast and clean.
After a moment of thought, she programmed the hot dog to uplo
ad its contents to the company server as well, and sent a text to her friend AJ:
Fingers. Got more info on Rosebud. This time it’s the real thing. Call my cell if you have anything. Xoxo Legs
Closing her phone she prepared to rejoin Chas, the man she was falling for, to say a very fond farewell.
8
SUSANNAH WALKED INTO the stunning bathroom and gasped. It was like something out of a romantic movie or a honeymoon seduction scene. The room was entirely done in beige marble, with mirrors and a sliding glass door that led to the bedroom. Candles stood on every surface; rose petals lined the floors and trailed into the water of the stunning overflow bathtub, steaming and ready, water still pouring into it. Beneath the water were the chromotherapy lights. They captivated Susannah as she stared, mesmerized, at the interplay of colors reflecting off the marble, bronze fixtures, and mirrored panels. Candlelight cast flickering shadows throughout the small room, and the sound of rushing water was a seduction on its own. Susannah pressed a hand to her chest and breathed in, trying to stop her racing heart.
“Do you like what you see?” Chas asked from behind her as she whirled to look at him. “Because I sure do.” His gaze was burning as he trailed from her eyes down to her cleavage down to her smooth long legs. He wore a towel around his waist, and Susannah’s breath hitched as she looked at the sculpted male chest with just enough hair to make her heat from the inside out.
“Oh, Chas,” she breathed, “you do know how to treat a lady right. If only there were a lady here to enjoy it! This is absolutely gorgeous. Just stunning!”
“No,” he said, closing the distance between them. “You are. And you are the lady I’ve dreamed of my whole life long.” He ran a hand down her cheek and grabbed a handful of her hair, twisting it in his hands. Then he yanked her head back and hungrily took her mouth as she moaned and pulled him closer. He trailed kisses down her chin until his lips found her throat and then he turned gentle, licking and biting that tender part of her neck that made her gasp and reach for his arms, his body, his face. Yet abruptly, he pulled back. “Sorry,” he said, “I lost myself for a minute. How about we take a bath to cool off?”