‘You look classy,’ Darien assured her. ‘But sexy.’
She could feel the appreciative male gazes, and she let her hair hang around her shoulders to provide more cover. The attention was a boost to her ego, but her nerves were too raw for it.
‘It’s the shoes,’ she said. The ankle-high boots with the stiletto heels and big buckles were classic killer Nina.
‘It’s the whole package.’ He lowered himself into the chair next to her and pulled it closer, so he was facing her instead of the table. The proprietary stance was clear, and she finally felt comfortable enough to shake her hair back.
A waiter dropped by to take their drink order and drop off menus. The words ‘where the beautiful people go to get ugly’ were plastered on top. They made her smile. The place was bawdy and unapologetic. She never would have come here on her own, or probably even with friends, yet she was more adventurous with Darien at her side.
‘I’ve heard of this place,’ she confessed.
He smirked. ‘So you read Playboy for the articles?’
She laughed. ‘No.’
‘They rated it one of the best bars in America.’
She liked it when he eased up like this. He had a wicked sense of humour that was unexpected. She wondered if Nina and the detective had recovered yet.
‘I can’t believe I’ve read about politicians coming here.’
‘Hey, everyone needs to cut loose now and then.’
Was that what they were doing here? Cutting loose?
Or was he looking for someone again?
She looked around discreetly for the dark-haired woman. He hadn’t fooled her. They weren’t meeting anybody here. It hadn’t been a friend on that phone inviting them out for drinks.
He was dressed casually for the night in jeans and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was like a chameleon. His style seemed to change every day. To blend in with the situation? Is this what he spent all his time doing? From the gun he carried to the marks on his body, she knew it could get a lot more physical.
The question was why? She knew he’d been watching someone at the reception. What information was he looking for? Who was he watching? Was he a protector? Or an enforcer?
It unsettled her not to know.
Their waiter brought their drinks. The bar was starting to get packed with people of all shapes, forms and styles.
She took a drink of her rum and Coke and coughed. ‘Those are strong.’
Darien rubbed her back. ‘Too bad you aren’t a redhead. You’d get drinks at half-price.’
To honour the redheaded Madam outside?
She tried to catch her breath. ‘I don’t know if I can take more than one.’
‘Live a little, Beautiful.’
As crazy and nerve-wracking as her life had become, that’s what she felt like she was finally doing. She might not know what made him tick, but he was waking her up.
‘Why did you tell the detective your name?’ she asked impulsively. ‘Why not go by Mel Summers again?’
He watched her thoughtfully. ‘The cat’s already out of the bag. Everyone at Luxxor knows me by my real name.’
But that hadn’t been the case before yesterday. He’d been known as the enigmatic stranger.
‘Why the contract?’ she pressed. It still bothered her that he’d backed her into a corner and had somehow found a way to get Nina to help him. ‘Why step forward like that?’
‘I didn’t like the situation you’re in.’
‘I have friends who watch over me.’
‘Friends like Jason Sloan?’
Her boots squeaked as she pressed her ankles together. He really was jealous. That, plus the rum, made her feel looser inside.
‘You could have just hung around more.’
‘You didn’t like me doing that.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘And if I’m going to do this right, I can’t be hiding in the shadows.’
‘So it’s just so you can act as my bodyguard?’
His look was heated as it swept over her bare shoulders and down to her chest. The silk tank clung to her breasts. ‘It’s not a bad gig.’
Her nipples tightened, and the warm knot in her belly spread. It wasn’t just the rum. Other men were watching her; she could feel them. She just didn’t respond to any of them the way she responded to him.
She swept up the moisture from the side of her glass. ‘What did you do in the military, Darien?’
She saw him sit back in his chair and his jaw clench. It had become instinctive with him, the secrecy and the evasion.
He took another long pull on his beer. ‘Special forces.’
An answer. Her eyes widened and her body thrummed. It explained his intensity and his skills. His focus. Knowing he could inflict as much pain as pleasure unravelled her a bit.
She leaned forward. ‘Who are you watching?’ she asked. ‘Is the dark-haired woman supposed to be here tonight?’
The stern look on his face slid into a glower.
How would he find her in this throng of people? What had the woman done?
With a sigh, he pointed the neck of his beer bottle towards a woman. ‘Tell me about the hottie in pink over there.’
Rielle gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to play, but the game proved he was observing the bar’s patrons. He just wasn’t being so blatant about it this time.
She glanced over her shoulder and felt an immediate jolt of dislike. Hottie? More like bimbo.
She didn’t like him watching women like that one.
The bar had an irreverent rebel vibe, but the girl’s outfit was a bit much, even for here. It left nothing to the imagination, including the black garters the hot pink dress intentionally left showing. ‘She goes to GWU, and she’s returning that dress tomorrow.’
He lifted an eyebrow.
‘The guy she’s with is wearing a university sweatshirt, and the tags on the dress are hanging out.’ Along with practically everything else.
Darien nodded in approval. ‘I think her boyfriend is going to get some tonight.’
‘Maybe, but the redheaded friend with them sure is.’
‘The girl?’ He sat forward slowly. ‘How can you tell?’
Rielle saluted him with her rum and Coke. ‘You have your trade secrets, and I have mine.’
She worked in the sex industry, now, didn’t she?
They met each other in a battle of wills, and she felt the old tension between them rise again. It was the tension that had been there before they’d starting ‘bumping into each other’.
Was he ever going to share his secrets with her? What if she didn’t like what lay behind the mask?
His hand settled on her leg under the table and slowly slid upwards. Her thighs clenched when his fingers disappeared under her leather skirt, but she didn’t stop him. She held her ground and refused to be distracted.
‘I like that you keep trying,’ he said softly, ‘but there are a lot of things I can’t tell you.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s for your own protection.’
‘Why?’ she repeated.
She held his stare. She saw the muscle in his jaw flex. His baby blues softened, and her nerves started to sing. Was he finally going to –
‘Here we go. Sorry for the wait.’
She flushed when their waiter appeared. He’d somehow navigated his way through the crowd with two heaped plates of soul food.
She bit her lip hard when Darien left his hand right where it was.
His pinky dipped into the crevice close to her crotch, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips. She quickly covered it with a cough.
‘Enjoy,’ the waiter said.
She was horrified when she saw the twinkle in his eyes.
Darien squeezed. ‘We will.’
He left his hand there for much of the meal. The interruption had broken the tension, or at least made it shift. His touch left Rielle hot and bothered. And wet.
The band started playing, but t
hat only added to the sultry mood in the room. The music was the blues, but not the moody kind. It was hot and earthy, and it made her want to spread her legs and lean back in her chair…forget the entire bar of men who might be watching…
Or revel in the knowledge that they could look but not touch.
She finished her rum and Coke and Darien signalled for another.
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ he murmured.
She settled her hand over his on her leg. ‘Too good.’
He smiled hard. ‘I was talking about the music.’
Her eyelids felt heavy. ‘That too.’
He leaned in. ‘I wouldn’t have pictured you for a blues girl, but you like it.’
She loved it. The music reached inside her. It drew her away from all her cares and problems. Problems that she really shouldn’t ignore.
Reality suddenly crashed in, and her breath caught. She put her drink down and sat up taller. ‘Darien.’
‘Relax.’ He pulled his hand away. ‘I never should have said anything.’
She swallowed hard to keep from coughing on her drink. Her eyes stung, but she kept them trained on a man across the room who’d caught her eye.
A man she’d seen before.
‘Darien, he’s here,’ she whispered. As warm as the place was getting, she shivered.
‘Who?’ He immediately went on the alert, and his gaze swept the crowd. ‘Hamilton?’
She flinched. She hadn’t even been thinking about that. ‘No, the man from the White House dinner.’
To avoid pointing, she tilted her head in the man’s direction. ‘The blond one who knew how to handle a knife. He’s by the door.’
Darien’s expression went hard fast. His steely blue gaze snagged on the man, and the thunderclouds grew. ‘Stay here,’ he growled.
He moved so swiftly, her hair stirred.
Rielle watched nervously as he cut through the crowd like a lion weaving through long prairie grass before it pounced on its prey.
Only the blond man was gone.
Her head jerked from side to side as she tried to find him again. Where had he gone?
It had been the same man, hadn’t it? Had she picked out the wrong person this whole time? Had she been mistaken about the dark-haired woman?
A shiver went through her. She crossed her legs and looked cautiously at the tables of people around her.
What would Darien do if he caught the guy?
She wished she could see him, but he’d disappeared into the crowd too.
The band slid into another sexy number, and she accidentally caught the eye of a man sitting with his buddies at the next table. There were three of them, and they weren’t college students.
She tore her gaze away and curled in upon herself as self-consciousness ran over her again.
Her gaze trained on the door. As loud as the din was, she didn’t hear or see the sounds of a fight. Time dragged on, and she finished her drink. He was coming back, wasn’t he?
Had he been hurt?
Should she go help him?
She felt vulnerable sitting alone in the middle of the room, wearing her skimpy outfit. Skimpy for her, at least. She hated it, but she wasn’t nearly as brave without Darien at her side.
A whistle cut through the air, and she shifted in her seat. It was the men at the nearby table. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d caught their attention.
Suddenly, a prickle caught her between her shoulder blades.
It was a cold chill, not hot, and she forgot about them entirely.
She went still, inside and out. She was being watched – and not by some meat-market regulars.
Her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. She blew out a breath and turned around. She scanned every face she could see, digesting them and quickly rejecting as she moved on.
Where was he? Was it Eddie? Was he here?
She jumped when the chair next to her knocked against the table loudly. Her muscles fired and she leaped up, but it was Darien.
Her relief was short-lived. He didn’t look happy.
He looked downright deadly.
Oh, God. She looked for the blond man, but he was nowhere to be found. Had Darien done something? Had he handled him, too?
He tossed a tip on the table and shoved his wallet back into his pocket. ‘You ready to go?’
Her weight eased back. She’d never seen him like this. She shot another worried look at the back of the bar. Caught between two evils…What should she do? She could call for a cab and go home. Even the trio of men at the table behind her might be a safer option.
His brow furrowed. ‘Rielle?’
She watched his face, so hard and serious.
He held out his hand, and time slowed down to the beat of a heart.
She caught him in a death grip. ‘Yes.’
He might be dangerous, but for the moment he wanted to protect her. She was safer in the lion’s den.
Chapter Eleven
The apartment was dark when they arrived. Out of habit, Darien entered first. He searched the place with his senses, but didn’t find anything out of the norm. He hit the switch of the living-room light. The lamp by the sofa turned on, but then there was a pop and the bulb fizzled out.
Classy place.
Rielle stiffened at his side but didn’t reach for him. The night out was supposed to have taken her mind off her problems, but she’d been quiet all the way back to the safe house. She wasn’t fidgety like when they talked about her ex, but she was stressed. Something had her wound tight as a top.
He crossed the room to turn on the row of lights over the breakfast bar. They weren’t as bright, and their light didn’t stretch to all the dark corners. It left the place even bleaker than it already was.
Rielle finally stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her hand lit on the deadbolt, but it took a moment before she locked it.
Darien’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t in a talkative mood, but was she afraid to lock herself in with him? He was the one who was supposed to make her feel safe.
His hands opened and closed, but he went to the kitchen. He was hesitant to even go near her. She looked jumpy as a jackrabbit. He filled a glass with tap water to buy some time and watched her over the breakfast bar.
She wandered into the shadows in the living room, but had yet to take off her jacket.
‘What happened back there?’ she asked. ‘Did you find that guy?’
Hell. Was that what this was about? He took a drink of water. ‘I found him.’
‘Is everything OK? Was he the one you were waiting for?’
He swirled the water round in the glass. She was too damn sharp. It should have been just a night on the town, but she’d seen through to his deeper tactics.
She’d seen a hell of a lot more than that.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. He shouldn’t have involved her, but he’d had to bring her along. It was the only way he could pull double duty and keep an eye on her. ‘Everything has been handled, but we’re going to have to find a new place.’
‘We can’t stay here any more?’
‘It’s time to go.’
‘Why?’ She paled. ‘What did you do to him?’
He stopped with his glass half-lifted for another drink.
‘No, don’t tell me.’ Jerkily, she took off her coat and threw it on a chair. ‘You won’t anyway, and I don’t think I want to know.’
His eyes narrowed. He’d let his anger get to him back at the bar, and it had obviously scared her. He shouldn’t have let his irritation show, but what did she think he’d done? ‘I talked to him. What did you think was happening?’
She stared at him steadily, reading him like a lie detector. Finally, she shook her head and turned away.
‘Rielle?’
What the hell? He knew she didn’t like being kept in the dark, but had something more happened at the bar that he didn’t know about? He put down his glass on the breakfast bar and approached her carefully. ‘What’s w
rong?’
She shook her head, and he touched her shoulder. She flinched, but her brown eyes flashed when she turned to face him. There was nothing doe-eyed about her when she met his look head-on. ‘I won’t be able to take it if you’re another creep.’
The statement rocked him back on his heels. Was she comparing him to her ex?
‘Tell me you’re a good guy or walk away now and don’t look back. I deserve that much.’
She deserved a hell of a lot more than that.
But she was right. He ran a hand through his hair. He should stay away from her, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her being vulnerable when he could stop it. ‘I’m not walking away until those phone calls end for good.’
The determined look on her face faltered, and he realised he’d inadvertently answered her question.
‘Then just walk away afterwards. Please?’
Their gazes held, and Darien felt adrenalin start pumping through his veins. She was putting down an ultimatum, and it was exactly what he had planned.
In his head.
Inside him, though, everything rebelled at the idea.
There was no place for personal relationships in his line of work. He knew that. He was not the man for her, but being with her soothed something inside him…something he hadn’t even known was ragged and wanting…She made him feel connected. She made him feel like more than the highly trained instrument he’d become.
Fight or flight set in, but there was nothing he could fight here. He wasn’t a runner, but that was exactly what she was asking him to do.
Without another word, she turned and walked away. He lifted his hand to stop her, but then dropped it limply at his side. She stopped halfway down the hallway to brace herself against the wall. She unzipped one of her high-heeled boots and tugged it off.
Courting Danger Page 16