“Interesting guy,” Wolfe said, driving through the subdivision and scoping out each side cul-de-sac. “Grew up on the West Coast; both folks were in the movie industry. Trentington took a small family fortune and turned it into a colossal one by investing in start-ups ranging from computer programs to independent films, as well as some real estate. He seems to have a knack.”
Dana crossed her legs, acutely aware that they were way too bare. “All legal?”
“Seems like it. I asked Brigid to do a deep dive off the books, and she didn’t find any red flags. Let’s park here and walk.” He maneuvered the car into a nicely treed area by another gate, this one leading to a quiet street.
Dana released her seat belt. “Where’d you get the car, anyway?”
“Stole it.”
“Seriously?” She turned to look at him.
He opened his door and stepped out, sighing as he stretched. “Yeah. We’ll leave it somewhere nice later tonight so the police will find it. No worries.”
She glanced at her watch. Nearly eleven at night, so the party would be going strong, and hopefully people would be engaged and not notice their arrival. Yet she didn’t move. Yeah, she should’ve insisted on going undercover as a dom, because the sub outfit was way too revealing.
He opened the passenger-side door. “The coat, Dana.”
Look who was already turning bossy. Her tummy wobbled. “I know.” She took his hand and stepped out on the tall heels, glancing around the peaceful, quietly austere neighborhood with mansions hidden behind stone walls and perfectly manicured shrubbery. She’d streaked her hair with bright pink and had a sequined mask to wear, but she still hesitated.
“You can stay in the car,” Wolfe offered, surveying the area.
“No. I have to do this.” Steeling herself, she released the belt and dropped the coat into the vehicle.
Wolfe sucked in air, his gaze raking her from head to toe. “Uh, well.”
Amusement and feminine pride tickled her. How rare to see Wolfe taken off guard. She looked down at the bright pink corset. The tight material pushed her breasts up, giving the illusion of a lot more cleavage than she really had, and the flimsy skirt barely covered the tops of her thighs. “What? You don’t like it?” It was difficult not to grin like an idiot.
“I’m going to feel your image in my left pocket for a long time.” His smile was rare, and all the more special for it. “Let’s make sure you don’t get grabbed up instantly.” He reached beyond her for the glovebox, removing a bag.
Curiosity kept her still.
He pulled out a necklace—a choker, really—with a delicate wolf pendant attached by an emerald on the small circular chain. “Here, it’s called a collar. Later, you can keep it and wear it as a choker or just a necklace.”
He was giving it to her? “Why?” she asked, her abdomen doing a funny flip-flop.
“To remember me. You’re probably the best friend I’ve had in a long time, and you’ve made this last op more fun than it should be.” The smile had long since disappeared, leaving his solemn look in its place.
She swallowed and partially shook her head. “This isn’t your last op.” From the beginning, she’d had the feeling he was barreling toward a rough ending, and everything in her wanted to save him. For a smart girl, she sure had some dumb ideas sometimes, but that was life.
“We’ll see.”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, taking in the white gold, charmed although she didn’t want to be. “But way too expensive.”
He shrugged and settled it around her neck, expertly fastening the chain in the back, his fingers warm on her skin. “I thought the design was pretty and you’d like it. Plus, it works for this op.”
The jewelry was light but present, encircling her neck with a feeling she couldn’t quite identify. To cover her confusion, she peered in the sack, needing to regain some control. “No cuffs this time.”
“Agreed. You need your arms free in case we have to fight our way out. The collar shows enough ownership that no dom will bother you.” He tossed the bag back into the car and gently shut the door, his gaze warm on the necklace. “The wolf really does suit you.”
Ownership? “Whoa. Wait a sec.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose. “It’s fine if you can’t go undercover, but it’s all or nothing here. You’re in or out.”
For the first time, doubt ticked through her determination. She had friends who lived the lifestyle, and she understood why it worked for them, but it wasn’t her thing. Instead of letting doubt take over, she lifted her chin. “I’ve been undercover before, and I can do this.” Sure, last time she went under was as a swim coach to bust a circle of boosting athletes, but still. How hard could this be?
He lowered his head, settling his black mask over the top part of his face. “If we go in that house, I won’t let either one of us blow the op. You need to understand that.”
She set her sparkly pink mask in place, making sure she could see. “I’ll play my part, Wolfe.” What that entailed, she wasn’t sure. As he took her hand, his warm and callused, the first shiver wandered down her back.
* * *
Wolfe couldn’t get rid of the itch at the base of his neck as he led Dana into the stark white great room, where a woman wearing pasties and nothing else handed him a menu listing locations and activities. He glanced down to read. “Fire play after midnight, huh?” Keeping his gaze impassive, he glanced back at Dana. “Maybe we should try that.”
To her credit, she kept herself from rolling her eyes. Her pink lips twitched in almost a smile, and it hit him that she wasn’t remotely afraid of him or this op. Smart girl when it came to him, not so smart when it came to the fact that somebody had tried to kill her the other night. That fact didn’t seem to be registering with her. At the thought, something must’ve settled on his face, because she lost the amusement and the sub at the door took two steps back. Good.
He kept his jaw hard and then turned to survey the environment.
Like at the last party, the main floor had been cleared to provide a place to dance, and several couples were gyrating to a hard, rhythmic song, one couple pretty much going at it against the far wall. His ears heated as if someone had a scope on him.
A sharp slap echoed from a room upstairs and then a cry. Maybe of passion or maybe not.
Dana jumped, and her hand tightened in his.
They definitely shouldn’t look in on the fire play later. Her hand trembled slightly, and Wolfe paused to see if she wanted to leave, but movement toward the back door caught his eye. A couple he’d never seen was snuggled up on a duvet in the corner, but the guy seemed to be scoping the place behind a plain green mask. The tat peeking out beneath his collar was of some sort of crest. Interesting.
Wolfe made a mental note to find out more about the guy and then looked through a sweeping archway to a darkened kitchen with low blue mood lighting, “Let’s check out the bar.” He needed her calmer than she was to get through this, but they both had to keep their faculties.
The mask over his eyes was bugging him, but in case there were cameras, he needed to keep it on. Mask or not, anybody he’d met before would recognize him because of his size, but he didn’t want to be recorded.
She tottered on her high heels but quickly regained her balance as they wound through the crowd to the bar. He clocked an exit to the north that led to a backyard and a side door to the east that no doubt went to the garage. The counters had been wiped clean to leave room for bottles and glasses, so no knife block. Experience told him knives would be in one of the drawers near the sterling-silver high-end range with dual oven doors. The thing probably cost more than he made in a year. He ordered two beers from the buxom bartender. “I’ll open them,” he said.
She reached down and then plunked two bottles on the counter. “Glasses?”
“No.” He reached for the bottles and twisted off the tops.
Dana edged closer, leaning up to whisper, “I don’t like beer.”
“I know. Don’t drink,” he replied, handing one of the bottles to her. The itch at the base of his neck was getting more irritating, and they had to be ready to run or fight.
“Wolfe.” It wasn’t a surprise when Trentington angled his way, recognizing him even while wearing a mask.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” Wolfe settled his hand at Dana’s nape.
Trentington, wearing a furry mask that made him look like a tiger, ordered a Scotch. “Thanks. It’s nice to see you with such an intriguing lady. I love the pink mask.”
Wolfe leaned against the side wall, hopefully looking casual. “I’d hate to risk her safety, considering somebody was shot at the last party. What do we know?”
“Not much. Whoever shot him went out the window, scaled down a drain, and then disappeared.” Trentington accepted his drink, his gaze scouting the party.
“Why would anybody want that guy dead?” Dana asked.
Wolfe tightened his hold on her nape.
Trentington took a big gulp. “Albert Nelson had some shady dealings, I’m afraid. I knew he’d broken the law a few times in the past, but when we conducted a background check for membership, he came up clean.” He smiled at Dana. “I can assure you we have plenty of security in place, and that whoever wanted Albert Nelson dead was after him specifically.”
Ah. That explained the guy on the sofa. “The police are here, aren’t they?” Wolfe muttered. No wonder they were having a second party so soon after the murder. “What time is the roundup?” There was one good way to question everyone in a private organization and that was to get them all together in the same place.
“I’ve been promised no roundup.” Trentington switched easily into telling the truth, didn’t he? “They’re cataloging people, license plates, and planning to make contact next week.”
Wolfe sighed. “You handed over the membership documents.”
“They had a subpoena, Wolfe.” Trentington took a big sip.
“So the police will make contact next week, threaten to go public, and get folks to cooperate.” Wolfe would need to make sure Brigid had his cover ID all up to snuff. His name was Zeke Warrington, but Wolfe was his nickname from his hunting days. Or something like that.
“Most folks aren’t ashamed of their BDSM lifestyle,” Trentington murmured. “We’re practically mainstream these days.” He nodded at a stunning redhead in pasties walking his way. “Though you might want to take full advantage of tonight’s party because we may have to take a break until they solve Nelson’s murder.”
Wolfe set the bottle back on the counter. “Good advice. For now, do you have a lounge or somewhere where subs have lockers?” It was standard practice.
Trentington nodded. “Yes. The guest suite on the other side of the living room has been set up with lockers and a quiet place for subs.”
“Good.” Wolfe rubbed Dana’s neck. “Go lose the high heels, sweetheart. I want you barefoot tonight.” So she could run if necessary.
She paused. “Wh—”
He tightened his hold.
Irritation flared in her eyes, but she held her tongue. It was all he could do not to grin. “Now.” He removed the beer from her hand.
She nodded and turned to go through the crowd.
Trentington chuckled. “You’ll have a tough time taming that one.”
Wolfe watched the sway of her curvy ass. “It’s a good thing I don’t want her tamed, then.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dana chose a locker in the gold-gilded bathroom, angling her head to see if the toilet was gold, too. Nope. Regular porcelain. She left her shoes and exited the bathroom, nearly running into a voluptuous brunette struggling with a corset in the ostentatious guest room, complete with mirrors on the ceiling. “Help,” the woman said, partially turning, her mask a sparkling aqua.
“No problem.” Dana swiftly tightened the drawstring at the back. “You were tangled.”
“Got a little busy playing in the upstairs office,” the woman said, turning. “Next I’m hitting the dungeon downstairs. Lilia said there’s a couple of crosses down there. I’m Julie.”
Dana shook her hand. “Dana.” She studied the woman’s sparkling blue eyes as the hard rock thumped through the closed door. “You look familiar, even wearing that stunning mask.”
“I’m an aide with Senator Locombe. We’ve been in the news a lot lately with the new farm bill.” Julie brushed her hair away from her face. “Man, I needed a relaxing time tonight.”
Dana nodded. “Yeah, me too. Sometimes the pressures of work take over, and it’s good to just let go for a bit.”
“Amen, sister. It’s the one place I can just be me without having to make a decision.” She leaned toward Dana. “I saw you with Wolfe. I’ve been trying to catch that guy’s eye for a month. He is such a hottie. I bet he knows how to spank a girl properly.”
Dana choked and then quickly regained control. “Yeah, he’s gifted.” If Wolfe tried with her, she’d break his hand. But she did understand the desire to let go and just relax with somebody else making decisions. “I initially came to hang out with Albert Nelson because my friend knew him, but . . .”
Julie’s eyes widened. “I know. I wasn’t here last time, but I heard all about him being shot and falling right to the ground. Do you know anything about it?”
Dana shook her head and leaned in. “Not really. You?”
Julie looked around and then back, her voice lowering. “Just the usual rumors that if you wanted drugs, he was the go-to guy, or if you wanted connections, he was the guy to ask.”
“Connections?” Dana murmured.
Julie nodded. “Yeah. Like if you somehow ended up with jewelry or a painting or whatever that you needed to get off your hands, then Albert Nelson was the guy to call to find the right people who could get it done.” Her voice dropped lower. “I only know that because I was playing with Ralph, the big blond guy, and he got really drunk one night and talked a lot about getting rid of an ex-girlfriend’s designer purses without her knowing.”
Ralph. Wasn’t that name in Candy’s notes? Dana perked up. “Is Ralph here tonight?”
“Haven’t seen him, but I’ve been up playing.” Julie straightened.
In the office. Were there records in there? Dana moved toward the door. “Hey. Does Trentington know about Albert?”
Julie pursed her lips. “I doubt it—especially the drug part. Trentington has a no-drugs policy.”
Anybody could’ve killed Albert Nelson, apparently. She opened the door, her breath catching at the sight of Wolfe leaning against the fireplace, waiting for her. With the dark mask covering his eyes, he looked like a roadside bandit determined to kidnap some helpless female.
Dana’s body tightened, awakening, and she padded on her bare feet across the smooth marble to reach him. Without her shoes, she felt even more vulnerable. “Happy now?”
“Watch your tone, sub,” he said gently, grasping her chin.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. His fingers were warm and firm, and for the briefest of seconds, she forgot she had a part to play. Before she could think of an answer, he turned her toward the staircase and released her chin. “Let’s check out the playrooms upstairs,” he murmured.
She was suddenly thankful she’d tossed the high heels since her legs felt wobbly. “I heard there’s an office upstairs to play in.”
“Ah. One of my favorite fantasies,” he said smoothly, leading the way up a grand staircase. “Over the desk in an office.”
The image of Wolfe bending her over a desk flashed into her mind, and her breath quickened. The staircase curved to the left at the top, with bedrooms spaced down a long hallway leading to a wide window with a reading alcove beneath it.
She swallowed and peered in the first room, which had been set up with a bed big enough to be two kings pushed together. Several people were in the middle engaged in various forms of sex. She blinked and took a step back, her eyes widening. Another step, and she collided
with Wolfe.
He gently turned her. “Need to check out the rest of the rooms,” he said.
She blanched. Too much flesh. Way too much nakedness. “Does that turn you on?” she whispered.
“Sex with a bunch of people at the same time? Hell, no. Not my thing. I don’t judge it, but I’m more of a one-on-one type of guy.” He kept her to the side and poked his head into the next room, quickly withdrawing. “Nope.” Before she could look, he tugged her farther down the wide hallway.
The next room was western themed with saddles, whips, and even hay spread around the floor. A couple was having a good time over a bench, the man working hard.
Wolfe grabbed her hand and drew her farther down the hallway. Her adrenaline surged as she took in a vacant room with a desk, complete with a laptop. She stepped inside and instantly began opening drawers, which were all empty. “Shoot. This is just a prop room.”
Wolfe looked at his watch. “Beyond the living room downstairs on the main level is a cordoned-off area. That has to be his actual office.”
Loud voices caught her attention, and three couples stumbled into the room. The first woman, a dark-skinned beauty in a silk negligée, smiled up at Wolfe. “Hi. We were going to play corporate tycoon. Would you like to join in?”
Wolfe reached for Dana’s wrist. “Thanks, but we thought we’d check out the dungeon downstairs.”
Her companion leaned in, his brown eyes dilated. “Unless you’re into knife play, stay away from the room at the far end of the dungeon.” He shook his head.
“Good tip.” Wolfe drew Dana out of the room and headed swiftly back the way they’d come.
“Knife play?” Dana asked, wincing. “Do people really cut each other?”
Wolfe shrugged. “I guess. To each his own, but I’ve seen enough knife fights in my life.”
The cold marble chilled Dana’s feet, but she followed Wolfe down the stairs and over to the cordoned-off area. He pressed her against the wall, his hands at her waist, his body warming hers. “What are you doing?” Her entire body heated.
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