He’d been inside the Sea Witch, the main nightclub of this section of the resort, only once—again, when the Cypress had first opened. It had looked like standard fare, but it hadn’t been in the midst of a party, either. Now the place looked exactly like the image it was trying to portray—a sex club, minus the actual sex. There were men and women dancing on multiple tiers of the club, most of them staff of the resort, but a good many tourists starting to get into the act as well. The staff members were easier to spot given their attire, or lack thereof. Alcohol flowed freely, and there were several fountains set up that he suspected burbled forth with straight vodka, given the number of frat boys surrounding them. The club’s security was very much in evidence, but they didn’t seem to put a damper on the crowd.
Nothing would put a damper on this crowd. What in the hell had he been thinking, letting Edeena and her sisters get caught up in this their very first day on the island?
His phone vibrated in his hand—the only way he’d know if the damn thing would ring given how loud the club was. He glanced at it, reading Cindy’s text. They were at the front door, waiting for him.
Good. Signaling his man to hold the table, Vince stalked through the room. He was dressed more or less appropriately for the club, but he hadn’t knocked himself out. No one would be looking at him.
He shouldered his way to the front of the club, his gaze scanning the room. The crowd was young and affluent, from all appearances. They had to be affluent to afford the $100 cover charge—a charge that, had been notably waived for the Saleri sisters and their guests. Royalty had its privileges, it appeared.
Vince’s eyes sharpened as he neared the opening to the large foyer of the club. It didn’t take but a moment to spot the Marks team and their charges, and he wasn’t the only one looking. The three Saleri sisters cut an impressive swath through the crowd in their low-cut dresses and high-heeled shoes, in contrasting shades of black, pink and deepest red.
They were all runway-worthy, but his eyes were only for Edeena. He wanted to tell himself it was because she was his particular charge, but he’d never been especially good at lying, not even to himself.
She looked like something out of a magazine.
In deference to the evening, her hair was down, curled around her shoulders. Her exotic eyes and lips were touched with the barest hint of makeup—far less than Marguerite, but a bit more than Caroline, he decided, sweeping the other girls with a clinical glance. The dress that hugged her athletic frame was made of some sort of soft knit, looking like nothing so much as something he wanted to pull off her body at the first moment.
Chill, he ordered himself, fixing a firm smile on his face as he approached the trio. The Markses watched carefully from a few yards away. They were playing this simple and open, no overt security needed.
“Vince!” Marguerite saw him first, but he didn’t miss how Edeena’s head came up, the relief on her face that he was there. That made him feel better than it should. He’d been in the security business for going on ten years now—it wasn’t like him to care one way or another about a pretty face. Why was he so drawn to this one?
“Countesses,” he nodded as he approached. He said the word quietly, and the younger Saleris beamed, while Edeena rolled her eyes. No one around them heard the term, but he needed to get them inside the main part of the club if he wanted that to last.
“The game tonight, ladies, is to avoid anyone who wants to make a spectacle of you. You’re here to enjoy yourselves, mingle, dance, not to help the Cypress promote itself. If you feel pressured by any of the staff, you walk away. If someone announces your presence on the mic, you ignore it. The kind of attention they’ll want to lavish on you isn’t the kind you want, trust me.”
Edeena stared hard at her sisters as Vince spoke, and to his surprise, neither one of them objected. Once again, he wondered how controlled their lives had been back in Garronia.
Garronia. Even the name of the place sounded ridiculous. Who would believe that a seaside kingdom still existed in today’s day and age, let alone one that was snugged up between Turkey and Greece that hadn't been blown up during the crossfire of the interminable wars in the area?
Vince shook his head as he watched Cindy and Rob take up their positions on either side of the younger Saleris. Edeena stepped naturally to his side, and he snaked his arm around her as they entered the glittering lightshow of the Sea Witch.
He heard Marguerite’s laugh—barely—and smiled despite himself as they trooped all the way to the table he’d staked out beyond the dance floor. In the wild, artificial light of the club, the Saleri sisters seemed to glitter even more brightly, and they’d no sooner reached the table than purses and clutches were dropped and the two younger sisters grabbed Cindy’s hand and pulled her out on the dance floor. Rob followed, but Vince’s eyes were on Edeena. Instead of heading for the dance floor as well, she slipped into the banquette seat of the round table, then turned her attention to her sisters.
Vince settled in opposite her, watching her as much as the room around her. He’d expected this to be how the evening played out—the younger women dancing and drinking, and Edeena setting up court nearby, watching like a worried mama bear. Only she wasn’t worried, exactly. Not here. Not with his team in place. He’d provided that moment of freedom of her, away from the father who seemed to hold them all in such an iron fist, and even more so away from the insane curse that had followed them around since they were born.
Tonight, it was as if Edeena was shrugging off a heavy coat of worry, and as she watched her sisters, a smile of genuine joy lit her face. Her entire expression seemed to swell with pride and admiration and a fierce love for Caroline and Marguerite, and Vince had the sudden sense of knowing that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her sisters, her family. Even if it meant confronting this so-called curse head on.
A kernel of resentment formed in Vince as he turned that truth over in his mind. It wasn’t his place to make Edeena’s life harder than it already was, but she was being unreasonable, flat out. It was like she was willing to throw her whole life away before she’d even lived it.
If she hadn’t kissed him earlier in the day, then maybe he could believe that she was meant to be the older sister, the responsible one, willing to give up everything so that her sisters lives would be easily. But she had kissed him. Kissed him and turned his entire body inside out as he’d felt her body lean into his, tasted the salt and sunshine on her lips, smelled the honeysuckle and lavender in her hair. Edeena Saleri was made to enjoy life, not merely ensure that her sisters did.
And just like that, an idea formed in his mind.
It wasn’t necessarily a good idea, but it was an excellent decision, all the same.
“Edeena!” Vince blinked as Marguerite trotted up to the table, waving a black and red keycard at them. “No more sitting off to yourself. They have private VIP rooms here, and we’ve got a free pass to go see!”
Chapter Five
Edeena snatched the card out of Marguerite’s hand before her sister had even finished speaking, but in her heart of hearts she knew how this was going to end. If she didn’t go with Marguerite right now, her resourceful sister would go exploring on her own. And unless Edeena wanted Marguerite dragging Rob or Cindy along as she discovered exactly what “VIP suite” meant in Sea Witch lingo, Edeena needed to go with her.
“I’ll be right back,” she said turning to Vince.
“We’ll both go.” His gaze was on the crowd again, face set. “You got that card from Janet?” At Marguerite’s blank look he clarified, “Tall blonde, works for the club.”
“Yes!” Marguerite brightened. “She’s been so nice. She gave Caro about two dozen drink tickets at the same time.”
“Yeah, she’s a regular saint.” He glanced to Edeena and gestured her to precede him out of the booth seat. “Now’s going to be the best time. It’ll only get more crowded back there later, as the alcohol starts to work on people’s wallets.”
&
nbsp; Edeena grimaced at Marguerite as she pulled herself upright again. “You know that VIP suite is code for ‘come have sex in the back room,’ right?”
“Well, of course,” Marguerite said, holding out her hand for Edeena. “But what better way to see how sophisticated this place is? It could be completely scary or super high end, but we won’t know if we don’t see.”
“Fair enough.” Edeena turned, reaching for Vince, but he brushed by her to take the lead position in front of Marguerite. Apparently, Vince knew where the back rooms were. Edeena wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she let his shoulders lead the way. No use trying to push through the crowd when they had a snowplow at their disposal.
They skirted the dance floor and Edeena scanned the room, relieved when she caught sight of Caroline. Her sister was chatting with a group of young women about her age, handing out tickets to their evident delight, while Cindy Marks hovered in the background. She’d be fine for the next few minutes.
The music and laser light show dimmed to a slightly less panic-inducing level as Vince flashed the card to an attendant, then led them into a darkened passageway, which was lit with an odd purple glow.
“Black light?” Marguerite murmured, peering upward into the corners. “That’s still a thing?”
“Apparently.” Edeena squinted, trying to get her bearings.” After another dozen feet, the dark-painted walls gave way to a series of ornately trimmed doors . . . not tacky, exactly, but definitely over the top, each of them framed by faux wrought-iron flourishes—some black, some silver, some gold.
In spite of herself, Edeena couldn’t help being intrigued. “What’s the meaning of the different colors?” she asked.
“And which one is our keycard coded for?” Marguerite crowded close, peering at the card in Vince’s hand. The black and red plastic rectangle had a distinctively gold patch emblazoned on its front.
“Gold, I’m assuming?” Edeena looked at Vince, who nodded. He gestured to the light panels above the doors. All of them glowed softly green.
“Red means occupied, green means unoccupied, if I recall there’s also a yellow, which means occupied, but that additional partiers are welcome.”
Marguerite snorted. “Of course.”
He stopped in front of one of the doors surmounted by a green glow and framed in gold. With a swipe of the keycard, the door clicked open.
“Give me one second,” he said, and Edeena stayed Marguerite’s arm when she would have surged in after him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me with him scouting the place first,” her sister said. “If Dad is in there lying in wait for us, it’d totally be worth it.”
Vince’s soft call cut off Edeena’s need to respond, and she gestured Marguerite inside. Her sister darted in, Edeena following more slowly.
The room was dimly lit, but Edeena’s eyes had already adjusted to the darkness in the club and intervening corridor, so she could see easily. She looked around with as much curiosity as Marguerite did, and her disappointment echoed her sisters, as well.
“It looks like a man cave,” Marguerite said, turning to take in the whole space. “How is this a VIP room?”
She wasn’t wrong. There were at least a half dozen thick leather couches—or they looked like leather, anyway—a large flat screen TV, a wet bar and fridge and what she suspected was a stocked built-in pantry, and a wall covered with a heavy drape. A sound system was set up on the low table next to the couches.
“It’s . . . nice,” Edeena said, not wanting to tip Vince off to what she was expecting.
“Gold is the kingman room, master of all he surveys,” Vince said. He was fooling around with electronics over at the bar, and two walls of curtains parted to reveal large windows, both of which looked in to empty rooms. “You come to gold to watch and to party, you go to the others to party with or without an audience. Silver is for privacy. Black is for no privacy.”
Despite herself, Edeena peered at the rooms on either side of theirs with curiosity, soft light filtering through what she assumed was a one-way mirror. They looked a lot like this one—couches, chairs, stocked bar—but there was a large armoire set against the wall.
As if tracking her gaze, Vince spoke up again. “Armoire contains a fairly vanilla assortment of sex toys, bondage stuff mostly—collars, restraints, some low-grade flogs, brushes, that sort of thing. There’re hooks in the walls and beneath a couple of the couches.”
Edeena blinked, both intrigued and vaguely disturbed. Collars and hooks? Was all that really necessary? Maybe she was more of a prude than she gave herself credit for.
Even Marguerite was staring now. “That is messed up,” she breathed.
“And how do you know all this, again?” Edeena asked, looking around their own room. There was no armoire, but beside the bar was a low storage bench. She had a sneaking suspicion their own room could become a mini party palace if visitors wanted it to be.
“I told you, I got the full tour when the Cypress first opened. I make it my business to know all the clubs, on the mainland and the outlying islands. This is, arguably, one of the more unique operations in the area.”
“Have you ever been here when someone else was, you know, in one of those rooms? And they know they’re being watched?” Marguerite sounded more amused than aghast, but Edeena’s own reaction was more complicated. She felt too hot and too cold at once, imagining what it would be like to be in one of those rooms, so carefree and careless that you didn’t worry about what you did with whom—or who saw you.
Who lived like that? She wondered. What could that possibly be like?
“When I was being given the tour, it was broad daylight, and the cleaning crews were in the room. The resort was still in its first weeks, and the club wasn’t fully up to speed yet,” Vince said. Was it her imagination or was his voice softer now, silkier. Edeena shivered despite herself. “I saw enough to know that if I were here on any other night, there wouldn’t be a detail I would miss, looking into those other rooms from here. It really is a voyeur’s paradise.”
Edeena could almost feel the physical weight of his gaze as he turned from the windows to stare at her. She refused to look at him, but the hot wave of sensation rolled over her again, flushing her skin. She didn’t know where to look or what to do, trapped by Vince’s gaze like that, even though this all was perfectly safe, perfectly appropriate—her sister was in the room, for God’s sake. It wasn’t like Vince was going to make a move on her. Not that he would anyway.
She really needed to stop thinking altogether.
Vince sauntered over to the bar, pulled a bottle of champagne out of its bucket. Then he turned his gaze back on them. “Is there anything in particular you want to see?” he asked.
Satisfied that he’d shocked Edeena into leaving the room at the earliest possible moment, Vince shifted his glance to Marguerite. She was scowling at the empty rooms, her interest waning as they lay there empty.
Then one of the doors opened.
“Oh, my God,” Marguerite breathed, slapping a hand to her mouth as a tall, willowy and very familiar figure appeared, entering the room with a broad smile.
“Is she doing a tour?” Edeena asked, her voice vacillating between fascination and dismay
Somehow, Vince didn’t think so. Janet Mulready hadn’t been subtle when she’d left him a voicemail earlier that day. She’d liked what she’d seen out in the pool area, and she wanted to know how long Edeena Saleri would be occupying his time. She’d clearly assumed that Edeena wouldn’t be here for long, in spite of the fact that the countess had apparently fallen under his spell. When she left, Janet would be here, and she’d be waiting for him.
Now he grimaced as the woman’s lithe form turned and a man strolled in. Two men, actually. Oh, boy. He recognized the slightly older man as the hotelier they’d seen at the bachelorette party earlier, Wyndham Masters. But the younger man didn’t ring a bell.
They didn’t have long to focus on them, though, as a bevy of addi
tional women paraded into the room, bearing champagne flutes and martini glasses, some even toting a bottle. They burst into loud, breezy laughter as Marguerite took a step closer to the window.
“I cannot believe they know we’re watching this.”
“It’s better than that. They know specifically we’re watching. Or at least our good friend Janet knows.”
Vince’s gaze shifted abruptly to Edeena, who was also staring at the window as she spoke. “That’s the third time she’s glanced this way. She set this up, or at least is pretty sure she set it up.” Her gaze sharpened as the women peeled off in multiple directions—some into the arms of the younger man, some to the bar. Wyndham stood by Janet, and as they watched he lifted a slow, lazy finger to trace a lock of Mulready’s hair across her forehead, tucking it behind an ear. The move was nowhere near as salacious as what was going on up against the bar, but Marguerite seemed mesmerized as she stared.
“She’s putting on a show,” Edeena continued, her voice incredulous. “A show for us—for you,” she turned to Vince, and though he half expected dismay or even outrage in her expression, what he saw wasn’t that at all. There was irritation, yes, but also pure feminine calculation.
Beside Edeena, Marguerite flinched. Vince’s gaze went back to the window. One of the other women had now removed most of her dress, leaving behind a very artfully draped undergarment that he supposed functioned as both bra and panties.
Edeena tilted her head. “We don’t have to keep watching this, you know—”
“We can go,” the youngest Saleri said abruptly. She scanned the room, her eyes alighting on the wet bar, where the open bottle of champagne remained, loosely stoppered. “Could you grab that, Vince?”
Then she stalked over to the door, pulled it open, and exited the room.
The door slammed behind her, and Vince checked his phone. “Marks is waiting for her at the entrance to the VIP suite section,” he said, tapping out a quick message. “I’ll tell him to take her wherever she wants to go.”
Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 5