The sound of my name on her lips hits me like a bolt of lightning. How the hell does she know who I am? Only Hector should know my true identity. He assured me I would only be called by the name I chose for the night. The only name this woman should know, is Mr. Black.

And she said my name as easily—as if she had said it many times before.

I slide out of her, my gaze digging into hers, questioning, probing, asking questions without words. Her eyes are wide, her expression horrified, her cheeks tinted red.

The silence between us crackles for a few, long heartbeats. Even though I’m no longer buried inside her, the weight of my body pins her to the bed. She tries to move, but I hold her in place, holding her hands above her head.

“How do you know my name?” I ask, shattering the silence. Before she can answer, I lift myself off her and stand beside the bed, my dick still erect.

“No idea.” She picks up her panties and proceeds to get dressed. “I guess . . . I just called out some random name.”

I put a hand on one of her shoulders. “A random name that happens to belong to the man you’re screwing? I find that hard to believe.”

“Like I said. I don’t know.” She shakes my hand off her shoulder and picks up the silk bra. I find it hard not to stare at her full breasts. But I need to focus. There’s no way I can pretend nothing happened, because something is telling me there’s more going on here than meets the eye.

“Hector assured me my name would not be revealed to you or any other lady here. So, tell me, how is it that you know it?”

Of course, there might be a simple explanation. She could’ve overheard me and Hector talking. I would have let it go, but the terror in her eyes makes me want to know more.

“I’m sorry.” She averts her gaze. “I have another client soon.” She rushes to the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I reach for my wallet and pull out a few bills. “Thank you for your time.” When she takes the money, our hands brush. An electrical current zaps through my skin. She pulls away before I do. “Don’t worry about your job. I won’t tell Hector what happened.”

“Thank you.” Her voice is a broken whisper which follows her out of the room.

I want to stop her, to force her to tell me what she is hiding because I know she’s hiding something, but I can’t make her stay. She did what she came here to do, even though she didn’t allow me to reach the finish line.

Freaking hell, I’ve never had this much action with a prostitute before. There’s something about her, something that won’t let me go. And I will find out what it is.

The door closes and I stare at it for a while, hoping she might return.

Voices from the hallway seep through the thin walls. One of them sounds like that of the owner. I sense him standing in front of the door to the white room, but he doesn’t enter. He must be waiting for me to get dressed. Does he want to come in with another apology?

I let him wait, get dressed in silence. Done, I pull out my phone and dial the number of an old friend, Mitch Biron.

“Hey, Mitch, how are you doing? I need a favor, man.”

“LaClaire, you should be ashamed of yourself.” Mitch laughs. “You don’t call for over six months and then, out of the blue, you reach out asking for a favor?”

“Don’t give me that.” I run a hand through my hair. “You could have picked up the phone too, you know.”

“True that.” The sound of a knuckle cracking comes through the line, making me cringe. “Anyway, we’re friends whether we speak or not. Tell me what I can do for you first and we’ll catch up later. “

“Sounds good. Could you look into something for me?”

“Name it.”

Mitch was right, no matter how long we’ve been out of touch, we both know we will be friends for life. We grew up next door to each other, and both attended Magnolia High School. There were times I got along better with him than with my own brothers. When, two years ago, he started his private investigator business, I was the one who gave him a substantial amount of money to allow him to hit the ground running.

“It’s a personal issue. I need you to find out information about someone.”

“Someone special, I assume.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I hear it in your voice.”

I gaze out of the open window into the darkness and breathe in before answering. “Well, you heard wrong.”

“You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Good. So, who is this person you want information about?”

“It’s a woman who works . . . at The Mirage.”

“The Mirage? You mean—”

“Yes, the brothel.” I clench my jaw. “Don’t you dare judge me! You’ve been to several of those yourself.”

“No worries, I don’t judge, man.” I hear the keys of a keyboard clicking. “Needs have to be met. Now, let’s get down to business. Whose life do you want me to dig into? Give me a name.”

“Hang on a second.” I move as far away from the door as possible, in case Hector is listening in on my conversation. “I’m not sure of her real name. But at The Mirage she goes by the name Ruby.”

“Do you have a surname, at least?”

“I’m afraid not. But I can describe her looks to you. Would that help?”

“Anything helps. I might have to pay The Mirage a little visit myself. I might be able to find out more.”

A fist of jealousy hits my gut at the thought of Mitch booking an evening with Ruby. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going there for some action. Purely business. I’ll find a way to talk to her . . . colleagues.”

“I’d appreciate that.” The good thing about having someone who knows you well is the fact that they can read your mind, allowing you to avoid voicing your uncomfortable thoughts.

Someone knocks on the door. I turn from the window. “Hey, Mitch, let’s talk some other time. I’ve got to go. Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime, my friend. I’ll call you when I know something. Then maybe you can tell me why this girl is so important to you.”

“She’s not.” We hang up and I open the door to find Hector standing there, his face pinched as though he’d eaten a lemon.

“Mr. LaClaire, I don’t know what to say.” He pulls in a shaky breath. “I gave Ruby clear instructions before she came to you. I made it clear you booked for the whole night, that she should not let you down again. I apologize . . . again.” He runs a hand over his hideous Hawaiian shirt. “Since you’re leaving my place disappointed yet again, I cannot allow you to pay for tonight. It’s on the house. I do hope you will return to The Mirage. Like I said last time, we have some other great girls here.”

“I appreciate your apology, Hector. I’d still be happy to pay you.” I might not have orgasmed, but the sex was still terrific. I pull out my wallet and pay him what I owe.

“Please come back again,” Hector begs before I walk out the door.

In the doorway I turn to face him. “Did you by any chance tell any of your ladies my real name?”

Hector’s stiffens. “No. Of course not. I assure you I’m the only one who knows your legal name.” He fiddles with the cross hanging down his neck. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem. I was just curious to know, that’s all. Have a good night.” I walk away without making promises I might not be able to keep. But I will return to The Mirage, whether in person or in my thoughts has yet to be determined.