A little strung out, she concentrated on her date. The rest could wait until morning to be dissected. Seeing Nate would make her feel better, she decided.
To that end, she dressed in a new garment she had never had the inclination to wear before tonight—an ankle-length, slim, red-hot dress that molded itself to her every curve. Heeled ankle boots, and a fat belt and matching bracelet made up of mah-jongg pieces, finished the outfit. After splashing her face with a bit more color than usual, she gathered myriad wisps of hair from around her face and fastened them to one side with a small ivory comb. Waves tumbled down her back to her bra line—or would have if she’d been wearing one.
Nate wouldn’t be able to resist her, she had just decided, when the bell buzzed and shocked her system. Her pulse raced and her breath came in uneven little spurts as she headed for the entryway. Odd that she hadn’t heard the Harley, though.
When she swung open the door, Annie realized it was because the bike was nowhere in sight.
Nor was Nate.
It was Nathaniel who stood there, grinning down at her.
AS NATE WATCHED Annie’s expression change—going from anticipation to disappointment—his own smile faded.
He didn’t understand her.
But that didn’t stop him from admiring her.
Eyes traveling down her diminutive length, all the way to the high-heeled ankle boots, he murmured, “Great look.”
If she was wearing any underwear, he would give away his Harley.
“Thanks, Nathaniel. Nice suit.”
The words were right, the tone wasn’t. A thousand-dollar suit didn’t impress her. And she was calling him Nathaniel again, he realized. No doubt she would rather see him in his leathers, which seemed to make her feel more comfortable and relaxed enough to call him Nate.
Nate acknowledged the dissatisfaction that made him feel. He would take her anywhere, anytime, no matter what she was wearing. It was the woman who counted, in his mind, and he couldn’t get enough of this one, no matter how she presented herself. That thought was unsettling. He’d always been able to do without before, but Annie was proving herself unique to him in every way. She could be soft and vulnerable or smart and snappy, depending on her mood. Inside of her, a number of women hid, he decided, all waiting to be freed. He looked forward to every encounter.
“Ready to go?” he asked, indicating the car parked at her curb.
Annie glanced at the Acura, murmured, “Mmm-hmm,” grabbed a tiny purse and pulled the long strap over her head and across her body. When she stepped outside, she didn’t kiss him or even touch him. Instead she carefully and not-so-subtly avoided him altogether, turning her back on him to lock the door.
Nate didn’t like what was happening. He was getting the same vibes from her that he’d gotten when they’d gone to the family dinner.
What was her problem?
Most women would love to ride in a luxury car, love to be with a man who was obviously ready to spend big bucks on her. But Annie wasn’t most women. Part of why he was fascinated by her, he told himself.
Just let the negative feelings slide….
Club Undercover was a five-minute ride from her place, and Nate used the silence to plan his strategy. He would get through to her, overcome this setback, if it was the last thing he did tonight!
Upon arrival, he turned his keys over to a car jockey and placed a hand on Annie’s waist. He felt her stiffen a bit, but she didn’t move away as he guided her inside and down the stairs to the cavernous, dark, smoky space.
Canned music was being piped throughout. A few people were already on the dance floor, but many couples and more singles were reconnoitering for tables or bar stools, claiming their space for the coming hours.
Nate had already made arrangements for the best seat in the house, one of the reserved tables away from the crowd. Only three booths sat on a rise overlooking the rest of the club, each with a perfect view of the dance floor. The curved middle booth was cozy and dark but for the array of candles of various heights decorating the mirrored table.
“We certainly have space up here,” Annie said.
“I thought you would like the privacy.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, turning her head to watch the dancers.
This wasn’t the Annie with whom he’d counted on spending the evening. This Annie was distant, practically ignoring him. The fact got to Nate.
But solving problems was his specialty—at least in business. He wasn’t going to make less of an effort with his personal life. Before he was done with her, Annie wouldn’t care what he wore or what he drove. She would be his, anytime, anywhere.
As for right now, he wasn’t about to let her off the hook by allowing her to ignore him. He placed a hand over hers and asked, “Did Nick say what time his video would be played?”
“All night.” Annie casually freed her hand and fussed with her hair. “He chose hundreds of images and then randomized them in the editing process, so they’re used dozens of times in different ways with different effects.”
“And he can make a living at this?”
“Nick has all kinds of projects,” she admitted, finally turning her full attention back to Nate. “Some he does to pay expenses, some because he gets artistic pleasure from doing them. That was the idea of our starting our own businesses in the first place.”
Was she warming up to him or was he imagining it? Nate wondered.
He again slipped a hand over hers, and while Annie didn’t pull it away this time, neither did she melt at his touch. And that’s what he wanted her to do.
Melt. For him.
And not just physically, he realized. He wanted her to melt inside, too. He wanted her to look at him with that special softness in her eyes, no matter if he was wearing his leathers or a business suit.
A waitress with hair that glinted as deep a blue as did her shiny blouse came over to take their drink order. Nate requested a bottle of champagne and Annie didn’t object.
Maybe plied with a bit of bubbly, she would relax….
Throughout the club, customers were settling in, waiting for the deejay. It was still relatively quiet in the place, compared to what it would be like once the dance music and the crowd were in full swing.
And since Annie seemed determined to resist his charm as long as he was wearing a suit, Nate figured he might as well make small talk. “So how was your day off?”
“I spent it playing catch-up at the store.”
“Did you?”
“All but the window. I couldn’t concentrate after Clive Hardy showed up.”
“Who?”
“A customer who kind of gives me the creeps.”
“An oddball, huh? He’s not a real problem, though, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe…”
Nate was getting a feeling he didn’t particularly like. “What kind of problem?” He didn’t need the outside world to complicate matters now.
“Um, I think…”
“Yes, what?”
“I think he may be stalking me.”
IF ANNIE EXPECTED Nathaniel to show shock or outrage, she was disappointed. His puzzled expression seemed a mild reaction to such an announcement.
“Stalker? Are you kidding?”
“Right. I always joke about being stalked.”
Annie watched him carefully. She’d decided to bring the stalker situation into the open with him. He had a right to defend himself, even if he didn’t know that he was a candidate for the position. Even if he was a very distant candidate, nominated by Helen.
The waitress was back with their bottle of champagne and made a big production of opening it. Nathaniel took a taste and nodded in approval, so she filled their glasses and then hurried off to serve another customer.
Annie took a sip from her glass as Nathaniel scooted closer. He picked up the discussion where they’d left off.
“More photographs?” he asked. “Is that what this stalking thing is about?”
&nb
sp; “Photographs?” Thinking about what had gone on between her and Nate the night before, she said, “Lord, I hope not!” and took a larger gulp of her champagne.
“But the photographs from the other night are obviously part of it,” Nathaniel said, as he topped up her glass. “What else has you so spooked?”
“Seductive letters from an admirer, and a late-night phone call. Things have been happening at the store, and I have a general feeling of someone watching me. And, no, I am not the paranoid type. If anything, just the opposite.”
“Have you told anyone else about all this?”
“Just Nick and Helen.”
“Not the authorities?” he asked intently.
“I don’t have the energy to try to get them to believe me. I mean, I haven’t been hurt, and other than getting locked in the janitor’s closet—”
“When did that happen?” he asked, interrupting.
“Today. I figured it was Clive Hardy, who tried forcing his way into the store, even though I told him it was closed and I wouldn’t open up just to suit him. He’s a little…unusual. Okay, odd. Anyway, he said I would be sorry and then I got locked in the closet.”
“How?” Nate muttered, more to himself than to her. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I didn’t, either.”
“But you did get out somehow,” he said, “because here you are with me.”
“I dismantled the hinges. And then Harry Burdock showed up in time to help get the door out of the way.” Annie sighed. “To tell the truth, I’ve been wondering about your security guard, too.”
“Burdock?”
“I told you I thought I saw him hanging around my place the night I got those photographs. Did you ever talk to him about it?”
“Sorry.” Nathaniel’s expression was as apologetic as his tone. “I dropped the ball on that one.”
And yet he seemed more thoughtful than concerned, Annie noticed. Did he believe she was overreacting? Was she? Had Helen spooked her into putting things in the worst possible light?
Annie went back to her champagne and he to his.
“Welcome to Club Undercover!” a voice suddenly boomed as the music went low. Dressed in black with red accents, his long dark hair also streaked with red, the deejay took center stage on the dance floor. “Hot, hot, hot—that’s the key word for the night. I’m the Dark Prince and your guide on this sensual musical journey. Now follow me…and let’s see what you’ve got!” he yelled before launching himself up the stairs to his booth.
Annie downed the last of the champagne in her glass and let Nathaniel pour her another. She was starting to feel the bubbles going to her head, but she was also relaxing in his company. No harm in that. Who wanted to feel uptight all night?
Dancers started wandering down onto the floor as the music blasted through the club once more. And for a moment, Annie was caught, brought back to her reverie about Nate and the hot time she’d imagined….
Which Nathaniel interrupted when he said, “I heard something about a flyer this morning.”
Annie blinked, fighting a sudden surge of resentment that she wasn’t with the man she’d fantasized about. She took another sip of champagne.
“More of Zavadinski’s nonsense in his campaign against me,” she said, detailing the flyer’s contents and her subsequent visit to the alderman.
“You’re sure Zavadinski was behind it?”
“He didn’t admit as much, but, well, who else could it have been?”
“If you do have a stalker…”
Annie started. “You think one person could be responsible for everything?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Just thinking out loud.” Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up out of her seat. “Let’s dance before there’s no more room on the floor.”
The last thing Annie wanted was to dance with Nathaniel, but she didn’t seem to have a choice unless she made a scene. She dragged her heels, then swallowed hard and gave over. One dance to some hip-hop wouldn’t kill her, after all.
A moment later, they were wending their way through the crowd of dancers when the music switched to the exotic, electronic sounds of Enigma.
Uh-oh.
Once she was in Nathaniel’s arms, Annie became mesmerized by the music, so heavy with sexual overtones; caught by the breathy moans of the female singer, who clearly sounded as if she were in the throes of passion. Trying to concentrate on the video, on Nick’s work, wasn’t any better. It seemed that her buddy had a growing fascination with erotic images.
Suddenly, the club fantasy came back to her in startling clarity….
Nate spinning her…their bodies tightly locked together…his erection secretly seeking entrance…
Annie fought the images, the mood, because she didn’t want to be tricked into letting down her guard. It wasn’t Nathaniel she wanted, she reminded herself. Nate should be here, holding her, inspiring her and making love to her.
But it didn’t seem to matter what she wanted; her body betrayed her. The champagne, she decided. The drink was loosening her inhibitions and fuzzing her mind, making her vulnerable. Even as she fought it, heat spiraled through her. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips.
Focus, she told herself. Focus on something nonsexual.
The other dancers. That was it. She would study them. She compared hair colors—what she could see of them in the dim light—and unusual styles. She dissected so-called fashion statements, counted the number of platform shoes under teetering dancers. She counted eyebrow piercings and nose rings. She made an inventory of tattoos.
Anything so that she didn’t have to admit to an attraction she didn’t want or need. Nate was enough for her. She couldn’t take on Nathaniel, as well.
Realizing she was quickly losing the battle on a purely physical level, she decided if she had been smart, she would have ordered iced tea. Determined to stop this cold before it got her into trouble, Annie pulled herself from his arms and indicated she wanted to return to their seats.
While Nathaniel didn’t look too happy, he let her take the lead. She practically ran up the stairs as if she could leave her physical reaction to him behind. When she slid into the booth, he slid right next to her. Too close.
“Tired already?” he murmured, placing his hand on her knee through the slit in her skirt.
Squirming in her seat, Annie desperately sought a way out of this. “I’m not as young as I used to be,” she said, a prelude to suggesting they leave.
Only being alone with Nathaniel might be worse. What if, as long as the champagne was having this liberating effect, she couldn’t control herself? The thought horrified her.
“Not young,” he echoed, his hand straying higher, to vulnerable thigh territory. “Says who?”
Waves of sensation washed through her as she fought herself and indicated the dancers. “Look at me and look at them. They’re babies.”
“They have to be at least twenty-one to get in here—unless they have fake identification, of course.”
“All right. So they’re legal.” Thankful that her skirt was too tight for him to go higher, that he gave up at least for the moment and let her be, she said, “But they’re still free to express themselves without worrying what people think. They’re brave to wear their insides for everyone to see.”
“Or they’re hiding their real selves behind disguises,” Nathaniel countered.
Was he? Annie wondered. Which was the disguise and which was the real him?
OVERWHELMED WITH RELIEF that she’d gotten away from Nathaniel without compromising herself, Annie undid the mah-jongg belt and hung it from a hook in her closet. Actually, as if he’d felt her tightening up when he’d gotten her home, he hadn’t tried anything; he’d merely brushed her lips with his and wished her good-night.
How peculiar. “Why didn’t he push a little?” she asked Rock.
The cat yawned in disinterest.
Not that she would have liked Nathaniel pushing, she decided. She just wondered. And the champagne was still doing her thinking. Not to mention keeping her a bit unsteady, she realized as Rock curled himself around her legs.
She lifted him, kissed his fuzzy forehead and put him on the counter as she let the dress drop to the floor, and stepped out of it.
That’s when the phone rang, and standing nude but for her bracelet and heeled boots, she froze.
It rang again.
Thinking maybe it was Nate calling, Annie couldn’t still the flutter of excitement that shot through her. Maybe her evening wasn’t over, after all.
Breasts tight, the warmth of anticipation curling between her thighs, she hurried to the counter and picked up the receiver.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly.
And was instantly on edge when no one responded at the other end.
“Whoever this is—”
Her indignation was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice saying, “C’mon, Annie, learn to live dangerously. You might like it.”
“Nate?”
“How dangerous are you, Nate?”
That was her voice! Gripping the receiver hard, she gaped.
“How dangerous do you want me to be?”
“Is this a game to you?”
“I know lots of games. So play with me.”
Annie couldn’t believe it. She was standing here in the nude, listening to a recorded conversation of herself having sex with Nate!
“Take off your panties,” he was saying. “Now, Annie!”
Horrified, she listened to her “Oh, no!” and recalled the panties tearing in her hand. Frantically, Annie looked around now for something with which to cover herself.
“Oh, yes. Now undo me.”
“Nate, you’re scaring me,” she said into the phone. “Stop this!”
Or was it Nate? she wondered as his voice murmured, “Put it on me.”
“Here? Now?”
“What do you think?”
What had she been thinking?
And how had this recording been made? Annie wondered, anger warring with fear.
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