“You’re not-wife needs to loosen up,” she told him.
He chuckled. “She doesn’t have a loosen up setting. This is Mercedes Mondego.”
She jerked away like my skin burned her. I guess she’d heard of me.
She looked at him. “Then you’re…”
“The Count,” he finished.
She swallowed heavy enough I could hear it from the other end of the bed. “What do you want from me?”
He leaned forward, opening his hands, trying to put her at ease. “I’m going to take down your old boss. I just want information.”
She stared between us, not believing we weren’t some avenging angels here to mete out punishment.
She closed her lace robe, covering herself from belly to neck, armor against the memories no doubt. “What do you want to know?”
He leaned in, a predatory glint in his eye now. “Tell me when you were first purchased by Fernand Mondego and Gerard Villefort.”
Ten
Eddy
Three Weeks Later
After the new girl told me everything, I gave her another $1000 and led the way out. Mercy followed. She’d been silent during the entire exchange, but I caught the surprise and pain in her eyes when she heard her cousin’s name on each of their lips.
She’d managed to make it through several of these interviews now. Three weeks’ worth, without so much as a peep. This one must have been different.
We got in the car before she broke down. She cried silently, facing as far away as she could. I reached toward her. She pushed my hands back, but I persisted, and managed to drag her to my lap.
“I didn’t know.” She said between sobs. “I didn’t know. That poor girl.”
I ran my fingers through her hair trying my best to soothe her even though I had very little experience at it. “It’s ok.”
She pushed away so she could meet my eyes. ”No, it’s not. I’m not a good person. I’ve never been a good person, but she suffered. I can’t fathom that level of depravity.”
I murmured to her softly in Italian, then Latin when I ran out of things to say.
She froze and looked up at me. I traced my thumbs under her eyes to remove the last of her tears.
“What language is that?” she asked.
“Latin.”
She laughed. A loud guffaw. “When did you learn Latin? Why did you learn Latin?”
I still ran my hand down her back. It was for myself now. “In prison. A friend and I studied it together.”
Not an outright lie.
I liked the sound of a laugh coming from her. It chased about the darkness in my head for a while.
Impulse pushed me to lean out and kiss her gently. She didn’t push me away, but leaned into the kiss deepening it until our tongues tangled and I had to shift her on my lap away from the erection threatening to bust my zipper.
She moaned into my lips and I pulled her head away from mine.
Control. Control. Control. I chanted in my head to keep me from laying her flat on the black leather and taking her hard.
“What?” She asked breathlessly.
I licked my lips and she tracked the motion with her eyes. “We still have more work to do.” I let myself count the buttons on her blouse with my fingers. “But don’t doubt for one second I intend to finish this later.”
She wiggled and I cursed. “I noticed.”
I growled and lifted her back to her side of the car. “Behave.”
“So what is the plan for tonight?”
I eyed her, already picturing her in silk in diamonds begging to be stripped off. “We have an invitation to Villefort’s campaign dinner.”
Her mouth dropped open. “No.”
I shifted to face her better. “You’ve only seen the edge of this operation. Ten girls. He’s sold and transported hundreds of girls with Fernand. If you really want to help me bring him down then you’re going to have to wear another pretty dress, smile at assholes, and help me put on a show at the campaign dinner.”
She scrubbed her hands down her face. It took a moment, but she met my eyes again. “Is this how it’s always going to be? Awkward situations and uncomfortable information hunts?”
I leaned forward and captured her hands. “Think of yourself as someone else. Imagine in your mind, you’re not you doing these things.”
“Is that what you do?” She whispered.
The car stopped and I let her go. The driver opened her door, and she stared me down for a heartbeat, and then climbed out of the vehicle.
I knew she wouldn’t let that statement go. She led the way to the apartment this time. I wanted to stop her, let her off the hook.
But before I could force the words out, she stopped and spun back. “What time are we leaving?”
I cleared my throat. “Seven pm.”
She went into her room and closed the door behind her.
I entered my own room, and sat on my bed. I still smelled like the brothel. A mix of heavy perfume and incense. Quickly, I stripped and lay on my bed. We still had time before I got back in front of people. Before I stood in front of her again.
I stared at the ceiling and focused my mind. I never even heard my door open and I had no idea I wasn’t alone until her face swam above mine. I jerked and moved to sit up, but she shoved me back, climbed over me, and curled up against my chest, head on my bicep.
She didn’t speak, she’d changed, only wearing a thin silk slip now. I waited to see if she’d say something, but she didn’t, seemingly content to lay in my arms.
I let myself relax enough to wrap a hand around her shoulders. She sighed as I pulled her in tighter.
We lay there for a while. Long enough for the alarm on my phone to alert me when I needed to dress and go. “We need to get ready,” I whispered.
She shifted away and looked back at me. “Thank you,” she said, without meeting my eyes. Then she walked out.
I peeled myself out of the bed. Oddly feeling better. Focused. I cleaned up and dressed quickly. When I exited my room, buttoning my cufflinks, I thought I’d have to go into her room and fish her out. But no, she came out in seconds wearing another devastating formal dress, this one in black satin. Her hair was twisted artfully at the nape of her neck.
How did she manage to do that so fast? “Ready?”
She waved her clutch. “Yes, did I do alright?”
“You look beautiful.”
She ducked her chin, and having nowhere to go after that compliment I punched the elevator button. We made it to the car in silence.
Once we pulled away, she faced me in a rustle. “What do I do tonight? Distract or…”
“Tonight, we watch, wait, and listen. I’ve already set up some interesting entertainment which should do all our work for us.”
“Do I want to know?”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry. It should just be Villefort here tonight. Try to avoid him if you can.”
She snorted and I watched her reaction. “No problem there. I guess I’ll dance with handsome politicians and drink good scotch.”
“I’m sure you’ll have no trouble there.”
She shifted in the seat facing front again. “Sounds like a relaxing night out then.”
We both knew it wouldn’t be, not with the girls’ voice still ringing in our heads. She fidgeted and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Fidgeting wasn’t something she used to do, but it was time for me to admit this Mercy wasn’t the same woman I’d once known everything about. And not the same as the woman I researched who hid behind her designer labels and attitude.
I considered that. Lord knew I wasn’t the same man. Could I hold her accountable for the sins committed by a girl? Did I want a way out of dealing punishment for her part in my betrayal? And why? I stared out the window, hoping the night might provide answers. We pulled up to the gala hotel, I climbed out, and waited by her door to take her arm. She didn’t put up a fight about it tonight. Interesting.
We entered a glitterin
g crowd. Jewels and big wallets stood corner to corner. Men and women I knew from both my legal investments, and my other enterprises. Her gaze snagged on a few individuals, and even lingered on a tall man by the bar. One I’d seen in newspapers or magazines at some point. Did she recognize him, or know him?
We found our table and sat down. She shifted in her seat to give her the best view of the room and I appreciated her tactics. “See anything?” I asked.
She gave me a nonchalant shrug I knew she kept something back. I didn’t press, resolving to simply watch and wait for her to give herself away.
The crowd closed in. We sat through pretentious speeches including one from our host. When dinner came, I took several deep breathes and watched for my plan to slip into place. It started at the table next to me. A couple of older women pointed out a girl by the bar. Not dressed right, not standing right, her very existence an offense to them.
The whispering began as a couple more women were pointed out.
“What’s going on?” Mercy asked, dragging me from my surveillance. She could feel the undercurrent of the unease wafting through the air.
I stood, buttoned my jacket, and held out my hand. “Let’s dance.”
She scanned my face and took my hand with no argument.
While we swayed on the floor I pressed my mouth to her ear. “Did you notice the girls?”
She nodded softly.
“They are like the ones we met with recently. And by this time tomorrow night, there will be an investigation started against Villefort and his involvement in a certain human trafficking ring.”
“And what did you do here?”
We turned so she could see the girls now flirting with men around the room. “I offered them a lot of money and protection to come here tonight. They want justice as much as I want revenge.”
Her gaze drifted to the tall man again.
“You know him.” I said.
She turned away, focusing on another area of the room. “No, just recognize him from the news is all. I thought the height was faked. Guess not.”
I memorized his features but didn’t question her further.
She dropped her hands down my chest and stopped the dance. “I’m going to get a drink.”
While she sauntered away gaining more than a few stares I skirted the floor and kept an eye on her. She didn’t try to talk to the tall man but something had her spooked. And women like Mercedes Mondego didn’t spook easily.
I took up a position near a pillar and watched. She bought a drink, tipped the bartender, and walked away. The entire transaction seemed innocuous. While she ventured to the table I went to the bar. That’s when I saw the tiny slip of paper addressed to someone named Ashley. I locked eyes with the bartender to warn him off and scanned the note.
Continue as directed.
I replaced the note and dropped another tip in his glass. Now I needed to see who picked up the message. As suspected, the tall man approached, took the slip, and wandered away. Betrayal threatened to claw through me. Raging that it happened again. I’d let her in, and she’d sell me out all over.
I scanned the crowd, searching for her but I didn’t see her anywhere. I waited near the restrooms for an undignified amount of time. Then I asked the doorman who remembered she walked out ten minutes ago.
Mercy left me.
Eleven
Mercy
I’d made some pretty stupid choices in my life. I owned more regrets than I could keep track of. But none of it compared to the fear which spiked through me as I walked away from The Gala Hotel. Almost immediately, I wanted to go back, beg his forgiveness. But watching him read my foolhardy message and connect the pieces scared me. When I can’t think around fear, I run from it.
But this time, where did I go? Nowhere I hid would keep me safe from him if he wanted to find me. And in true Stockholm style, I wasn’t sure I wanted away. I walked, my heels echoing in the dark. My feet were starting to ache, and regret sat weighty on my shoulders.
I always keep my word.
My earlier protestations flashed in my head, and I only had one place I could go. I crossed a dimly lit street toward brighter city light. At the first gas station, I found I called a taxi and all too easily directed it to Will’s lair.
The doorman greeted me, but I thought I saw him grab his phone as the elevator whooshed shut between us. The ding of each floor punched me in the chest. Would he be there when I reached the top floor, or would I have to sit and wait for his return? Whatever the outcome, I needed out of this dress.
The elevator opened and I stepped out slowly looking carefully around. But he wasn’t here. The silence weighed against my skin, and I crossed the sitting room to my bedroom. I peeled the dress off and left it in a heap by the bed. Next, my shoes. Favorite or not, all the walking caused blisters to form above my heels. I prodded the skin but decided to leave it alone since I didn’t have any bandages and first aid wasn’t going to be at the top of Will’s to-do list when he returned.
Speak of the devil. His heavy footfall alerted me to his presence. I’d finished removing my slip and stood in the middle of my room in nothing but my black lace panties. His chest heaved like he’d just run ten miles. I waited for the yelling, shouting, cursing, anything, but he just stood there staring at me.
“What?” I broke the silence, it was fucking kill me waiting for him to do it.
His fists clenched near his thighs. “What? That’s all you have to say to me. Where the hell did you? What the hell happened back there, and where the fuck did ‘I keep my word’ go?”
I turned, and looked around the room. He was right. I’d run before I thought things through. Now I’d pay the consequences. “I’m sorry.” I said.
“What did you say?” Closer to me now.
I faced him. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse. I got spooked and ran. Once I slowed down I reconsidered. I’m saying sorry.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Is this some kind of mind game?”
What the hell did he want from me. I held my arms open. Being half naked, I was already at a disadvantage. “No. It’s a genuine apology. We agreed to work together. I intend to honor that agreement.”
His fists were clenched, his jaw, every part of him wound tight. He took a step toward me, and I held my ground.
His voice pitched low now. I couldn’t tell if he tried to contain rage or keep from screaming. “You intend to honor that agreement….” He parried.
Obviously, he wanted a fight. I crossed my arms over my breast tucking my hands under my arms. “If we are going to fight, can I at least get dressed?”
“No, not if it will keep you from lying to me.”
His face softened a little, but his hands remained clenched. “Put on some clothes and meet me in my room.”
He walked out loosening his bowtie. I felt the battle was won, but it was only a preview to the war about to take place in his bedroom.
I slid into some yoga pants and a cami. With circulation restored to my feet, they ached. I limped into his room as he finished removing his pants. The polite thing to do would be walk out and wait, but he had zero regard for my personal space, even nude, so I propped on the door frame and watched.
He was a sight, all those tattoos and bunched muscles rippling as he kicked his clothing away. “Come here,” he motioned to the bed.
Hoping to buy some good will, I sat on the rumpled coverlet shoved at the end of the mattress.
Still just in his black boxer briefs, he sat beside me. “You returned. So I’m going to pretend this whole thing never happened.” He shifted and captured my chin in his fingers. “But if you pull something like that again before I release you, there won’t be another chance.”
I jerked from his grip. “Fine. Anything else?”
“Yes,” he stood, pushed me flat on my back, and stole the space between my parted thighs. “Now we’re going to finish what we started earlier.”
His knuckled brushed my knees as he removed his unde
rwear. Once upright again, his erection caught my attention. It stood straight and proud against his belly.
My mouth watered, and angry at him or not, I wanted him. I reached out and he kneed my thighs apart so he could climb onto the bed between them.
Where had this creature of need and desire come from? This hunger consumed me from the inside, and it wouldn’t be ignored. Where had this woman come from?
My body rioted for his touch, and as if he knew it, the bastard took his time about exploring the skin of my outer thighs, my knees, my calves.
“Would you get on with it already?”
The man actually slowed the already glacial trek of his fingers. “One might think you actually want me.”
I forced neutrality to my face. “There’s a big difference in wanting this, and wanting you.”
His eyebrows told me he wasn’t convinced. “Of course, silly of me.”
He appeared calm in the low light, but the slight tremor in his fingers told another story. Maybe he wanted me—this—too.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he scooped my bottoms down my hips and thighs. “Take off your shirt.”
I wiggled out of the thin cotton material and threw it toward the direction of my pants.
He lifted me easily, and tossed me a measure up the bed to make enough room. I swallowed heavily at the sight of him crawling between my wide spread legs.
If this was his idea of punishment, I didn’t know how he’d expect me to behave afterward. Or maybe that was the point.
The hairs on his legs bristled against my inner thighs. He leveraged his body over mine and aligned our hips. His cock glanced over my mound and I focused on staying still, even though I hovered on the verge of grabbing him and fitting him inside myself.
He dipped his head to my ear. “Say you want me. Admit it and I’ll push into your tight little box and give you everything you want.”
The Count Page 7