by Leah Braemel
“Andy told Sam and he said it wasn’t something to worry about. Look, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Just forget it.”
Like hell she’d forget it. She and Andy were going to go a few rounds on this one. She headed for the elevator and punched the button. “I’m going up.”
“Aw, come on, Rosie. Andy’s up there to make sure Sam’s okay. Or don’t you trust him to keep Sam safe?”
“I should be the one up there guarding him.”
“They’ll just kick you out. You might as well wait here.”
He was right, they would. Andy would have to keep him safe. But once they got home… As she waited for Sam to finish up, a familiar, and unfriendly, face approached. Ay ay ay, the woman who had bid against her at the charity auction and driven the final price up to seventy thousand dollars. What was her name again? Lee-Anne Bennett. Not a threat to Sam other than those claws she sprouted last time they’d met.
“I must admit that I am surprised Sam brought you to our private munch when you clearly have not mastered the art of submission. Now I understand why he is not sponsoring your initiation this year.”
Art of submission? What the heck was the woman talking about?
“As head of Mr. Watson’s protection team, I am responsible for his safety—including occasionally going against what he wants if I deem him to be in possible danger.”
Lee-Anne’s lips thinned as she pressed them together. “While I’m sure you expect me to commend you for your vigilance, be warned, should Sam ever bring you to the Rouge and I give you a command, I will expect it to be obeyed to the fullest. Immediately. You’ll not find me so forgiving.”
Who’d crowned this bitch the queen of the world?
“I am not planning on being a member of your little club, Miss Bennett.” If this broad ever tried something on her, she’d kick her ass from here all the way to California.
“Anyway, since it’s obvious that you and Sam are involved, I wanted to ensure that you’ve had a medical recently and your files are on record at the club. Especially since Sam will be our third at the Gala.”
Third? Third what? “I beg your pardon? Wait a minute. He’s going to the Gala? He’s not going, he cancelled.”
Lee-Anne’s unbotoxed forehead crinkled then relaxed. “I’m sure that’s what he’s told you. But I cannot imagine a founding member—especially Sam—not attending the biggest event of the year. Besides why else would he be here tonight if he wasn’t planning to attend?”
Rosie rubbed her arms, trying to stop persistent tingle of the creepy crawlies under her skin. There was no damned way she was going to explain anything to this bitch, not that she waited for an answer.
“Since I’ve asked Sam to have a ménage with Greg and I as part of Greg’s initiation, I want to make sure I’m not going to be subjected to some…” her lip raised in a sneer as her gaze raked down Rosie, “…social disease.”
Icy talons squeezed her chest until it was hard to breath. “A ménage?” As part of an initiation? What the hell was this club? Surely Chad wouldn’t let Sam be a member in a sex club, especially after the scandal that had destroyed Chad’s career. Even though she’d lived in New York and had been in college at the time, Chad’s decision to involve the FBI in protecting members of a BDSM club without approval had been headlines in the papers for weeks. Surely he’d learned…surely Sam couldn’t have been…but Lee-Anne was nodding her head.
“Yes, a ménage a trois. A threesome. You know, two cocks, one cunt?”
And then it hit her. Sam was planning on having sex with the Ice Bitch—after he’d told her they’d be exclusive. Rosie’s mouth opened and closed several times, matching her fists.
“Sam is the premiere choice amongst the club members for threesomes. Having a founding member take part in the rites will add a certain cachet to Greg’s membership. So when I decided upon what to demand for Greg’s initiation, I couldn’t think of anyone better for our little games that night. And that magnificent cock of Sam’s.” Lee-Anne dramatically fanned herself. “That’s why I was so intent upon winning him at the auction. Besides what woman could resist?”
That sonuvabitch had not only lied to her about not attending this place, but he’d lied to her about being the only one. What else had he lied to her about?
Lee-Anne tapped one French-manicured fingernail against her upper lip, her light blue eyes coldly assessing. “You haven’t answered my question. All club members and their partners have to regularly submit to a medical screening to ensure they’re not carriers of any STDs. That way any other partnerships are not put at risk. And since you’re Sam’s dalliance of the day I need to know when you had your last physical. Sam’s usually such a stickler about those details, I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t have filed your report with Thalia already.”
“My medical information is private, Miss Bennett. And since I’m not a member of your club, I feel no need to share my medical history with you.” It was standard procedure to familiarize herself with her principal’s medical records, in case they’d had to get him to a hospital if he’d been attacked, but thank God, she’d double checked his medical records before she’d agreed to their affair.
Lee-Anne’s eyes narrowed and she grasped Rosie’s biceps, her long nails digging into flesh. “You’d better not have an STD or I’ll come after your ass. And here’s another warning for you. Don’t you dare try to stop Sam from attending—he’s mine that night. I’ve waited too long to get him to fuck me, so if I hear one whiff that you tried to stop him attending, I’ll tie you to a rack and punish you myself. And I won’t be using a deerskin flogger—I’ll be using a bullwhip. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly.” Rosie wrenched her arm from Lee-Anne’s grasp. “Now if you’ll excuse me…” Without waiting for a response, she fled through the crowds to the ladies’ washroom. Once inside she closed the door to the stall and leaned against it. By the sinks, two women chattered and laughed, their lives normal, solid, while hidden in her stall, the floor tilted and heaved beneath Rosie’s feet.
Dear God, what a fool she’d been. This whole time Sam had been playing her, lulling her into a sense of security and now…now she was seeing the true side of him.
When he’d murmured how she’d be the only one, she’d believed him. Of course she had, she’d trusted him. But how long would it be before he’d expect her to stand back while he “fulfilled his duties as a founding member” by fucking other women. As bile burned the back of her throat, Rosie pressed her hand to her belly and felt the leather harness he’d strapped around her. Felt the butt plug he’d convinced her was a harmless toy.
Damn him. Damn her for letting down her guard.
She waited until the other women left the bathroom then fled her sanctuary and grabbed a handful of paper towels. A minute later, both the butt plug and the harness found a home in the garbage.
A fitting place, considering they probably landed on top of her career.
—
Sam leaned against the limo door as Rosie stared out the window. He couldn’t fail to notice how curt her answers to him had been when he’d finally found her once the meeting had broken up. Or how rigid she’d been when she’d stalked in front of him on their way to the limo. Nor could he miss how she refused to look at him now.
It didn’t take her hauling off and kicking him in the nuts to know she was pissed. And not just about being kept out of his meeting. Something else had set her off.
Sam pulled a cigar from the inner pocket of his jacket and struck a match to it. He pulled on it until the end glowed red before blowing a ring of smoke into the air. “If you grind your teeth any harder, you’re gonna be gummin’ your next meal.”
Rapid fire Spanish insults hurtled toward him. He managed to catch her calling him aloco pervertido. “So you mind tellin’ me what’s…” Hmm, shoved the stick up her butt wasn’t exactly the analogy to use considering what he’d done to her earlier. Although he would lay dollars to donuts that his little
toy was no longer filling that particular orifice. He amended his statement. “You mind explainin’ why you’re as ornery as a she-cat with a thorn in its paw? I’m guessin’ it’s not a general mad you’re workin’ on, but one aimed specifically at me?” He deliberately thickened his drawl and stretched his arm across the back of the seat as he sprawled out.
“Do you know, there are days when I think you’re actually from Minnesota and the Deep South good ol’ boy routine is all one big act?”
“Born and raised in Georgia. Want to see my birth certificate?” Not many people had ever noticed that he used his accent as a device to get people to let down their guard. Figured that she’d pick up on it.
Damn, she was hot when she was angry. Now how should he play this? If he wound her up some more, the sex tonight would probably be hotter than burning magnesium. When she folded her arms across her chest, he could have sworn he saw a hint of nipple peeking out from her gown. Get your eyes back on her face, son, and wipe the drool off your chin. ’Cause oglin’ her breasts was definitely not a way to defuse this particular firecracker, whatever had sparked the fuse.
“I just had a very interesting discussion with Lee-Anne Bennett,” she said. “Just how long were you planning to wait before telling me you’re the founding member of a sex club?”
Well, fu-uck. As soon as he got to a phone, that big-mouthed trust fund baby would find herself blackballed for breaking the secrecy pact she’d signed upon her initiation. And then he’d track her down and deliver the good news himself, demand the five million dollars the contract quoted as penalty. She’d choke handing that much of her grandaddy’s hard-earned cash over, and he’d enjoy watching every freakin’ moment.
“You know what’s worst of all? You lied to me.”
What the fuck had Lee-Anne told her? “I didn’t li—”
“Okay, you omitted to tell me the truth about the club. That’s the same as lying, Sam. You’re my principal, remember?” She barreled over him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning on attending the club this weekend instead of telling me you’d cancelled? At least you could have told the truth so I could arrange for your detail to protect you.”
His teeth ground together. “As I’ve already told you, I declined the invitation—and told ’em again tonight not to expect me.” And taken a great deal of ribbing for it.
She reverted to a stream of Spanish invectives before losing steam and ending with, “But you went to tonight’s meeting, didn’t you? Which was about the plans for the initiation Gala? If you didn’t plan on going, you wouldn’t have gone tonight.”
“Why the fuck are you believing her over me? And I attended tonight because the club requires a full quorum to vote upon the applicants. If I hadn’t attended, they wouldn’t have been able to have a vote and the Gala would have to be cancelled. That’s worth five million bucks in initiation fees. I wasn’t about to let the entire club down.”
“Oh, excuse me. Heaven forbid that Sam Watson would disappoint his friends.” Her tone couldn’t have been more sour if she’d bitten into a crateful of lemons. “Oh, and by the way, one of your friends wouldn’t happen to drive a blue 1964 Shelby Cobra, would they?”
“So that’s what this is about. And yes, Jocelyne drives a Cobra. You’ll be happy to know she wasn’t following us so much as taking the same route, since she lives in the building across the road. Is that why you’re pissed off with me? Because Andy came to me and not you?”
That was a matter she’d have to take up with Andy. “Partly. I can’t make good judgments to keep you safe if I’m not in the loop. But I need to know that if I tell you something isn’t safe, you’re going to listen to me and follow my recommendations. And tonight, you didn’t listen to my recommendations about the meeting.”
“Because there wasn’t any credible threat.”
“That was for me to decide. I can’t do my job if you’re overriding my decisions about your safety, or telling my people to ignore what could be an obvious lead.” She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. When she opened them again, he knew she’d just sealed his fate. And it wasn’t a thumbs up. “I can’t do this, Sam. This—us—” she circled her finger between them, “—it won’t work. You obviously don’t respect me as your lead operative.”
“You’re gonna walk away? Just like that?” Damn it, the car was pulling into the underground garage already.
“I should never have agreed to this affair in the first place. So I’m going to go back to the way it was before—if that’s possible. And if it’s not…” her teeth tugged on her lower lip as the car rolled to a stop, “…if it’s not, then I guess I’ll be asking for a transfer to Miami or somewhere. I’d appreciate it if you respect my decision.”
Andy opened the limo door. “Home sweet home.”
Sam slumped back as he waited for Rosie to get out. Since Kris had already called the elevator and was holding the doors, they didn’t have to wait. He didn’t take his eyes off Rosie, but he could see in the reflection of the elevator doors that she was studiously avoiding looking at him.
As he was considering just how to gain and keep her attention, she quickly scotched his plans for any further conversation when she said, “Andy, you’re going to be staying in Sam’s place tonight.”
Andy stared at her for a moment then raised a brow at Sam who scowled in return. “You two have a fight or something? Because I don’t want to—”
“It’s all right, Andy,” Sam interrupted, seeing a possibility arise and not wanting to let it slip through his fingers. “Stay at my place tonight.”
Because he wasn’t going to be there anyway. One way or another he was going to be in 1202. With Miss Rosalinda Ramos. Because damned sure he was not letting her get away until she’d listened to him. And listen she would. If he had to tie her up and ball gag her.
Shooting a hesitant glance at Rosie, Andy nodded. “Okay, sure, boss. I guess I’ll be your bunky for the night.”
Maybe it was the fluorescent light that flickered overhead, but Sam could have sworn he saw a look of disappointment in Andy’s expression. Kris, however, looked anything but disappointed—his lips pressed together and his knuckles turned white over the hand bar ringing the elevator.
Aw, crap. Looked like his gonads were taking their own trip to the zoo tomorrow.
The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open. Phillips checked the hall then exited and waved him out. Rosie preceded him while Kris trailed along the hall. As they approached, Scott opened the door to 1202 and nodded. “Evening, folks. All’s quiet here.”
A glance at Rosie showed she still wasn’t meeting his eye, and he knew she wouldn’t change her mind about staying in his apartment that night. Especially when she slipped past Scott and disappeared.
He pulled out his keys and tossed them to Andy. “Here you go, sport. Do your thing.”
While he waited for Andy to unlock the apartment, Sam cornered Kris.
“You want to tell me what the hell went on downstairs while I was in the meeting? What did Lee-Anne Bennett say to Rosie?”
“Shoot, I don’t know, boss.” Kris turned bright red. “All I know is they spoke for a couple minutes then Rosie headed for the can. You came down right after that.”
“All clear,” Andy called.
Leaving Kris standing in the hall, Sam headed for the privacy of his apartment. Once inside, he tugged loose his tie and tossed it on the couch. It slithered along the leather and fell on the floor. “Andy, I’ve got a job for you.”
Andy grinned. “Does it involve getting you in to see Rosie? If it does I’m in, but I don’t work cheap.”
“I need you to tweak the alarms both here and in 1202. Call Scott and bribe him if you have to.”
He laid out his plans.
“That’s insane!” Andy rubbed the latest tattoo on his arm. “There has to be an easier way. Why not just go down the hall and knock on the door? Scott’ll let you in.”
“Because Kris is there. A
nd he’s designated himself Rosie’s protector. He’d never let me near her. I have to get her where she can’t appeal to him for help.”
After some discussion, Andy agreed to help him—though it cost him.
While Andy reprogrammed the security settings, Sam headed to the bedroom.
Why was he chasing after Rosie? Or was it just ego that she’d walked away first?
Because she’d brought laughter back to the apartment. Light. And now he’d had a taste of her, he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.
But that look on her face, the hurt in her eyes, because she thought he didn’t respect her had him cringing. How could she not see how great an operative she was? How the other members, not only of her team, but of Hauberk, listened to her when she voiced an opinion?
If he did nothing else, he had to convince her he trusted her judgment, respected her abilities.
He changed from his suit to a pair of cargo pants and a T-shirt. Less than five minutes later, he stuck his bare feet into a pair of Nikes, and rifled through his desk to find his toolkit. Tucking his cell phone into his pocket, he opened the bedroom door to the balcony. He paused, then went back and grabbed a handful of condoms, which he stuck in his pocket and headed back outside. Though there was a good chance they’d not be needed, it didn’t hurt to be prepared. His daddy hadn’t helped him get his Boy Scout’s badges for nothing.
Luck sure needed to be on his side for this harebrained scheme, but damned if that woman hadn’t crawled into his system until he needed her like a scuba diver needed an oxygen tank.
He took a breath and swung himself onto the ten-inch-wide concrete ledge between his apartment and Rosie’s fortress. Despite the buffeting wind’s attempts to shove him into a twelve-storey swan dive, Sam quickly traversed the twenty feet and jumped down onto his neighbor’s balcony.
No alarms shrieked. The motion sensors didn’t klieg-light him. Scott didn’t come running, gun drawn, neither did Kris. Guess Andy had earned that five grand he’d promised him for temporarily disabling the security system.