Two weeks later, the sun shone down through the sunroof of the limo, a brilliant Southern California day, but nothing seemed as bright as her smile.
God, had he just thought that? What the fuck was wrong with him? He sounded like Jared did when he talked about that chick in Dallas. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Jared, who couldn’t even sleep with a sub because he was staying true to a woman who wouldn’t return his calls.
Kayla returned his calls. She answered immediately, and there was always warmth in her voice, like she’d been wanting to talk to him. Like she’d waited all day to tell him that she’d bought some cheese and wine at Ralph’s or walked the beach and found some seashell. Stupid shit. He’d spent his days making high-powered deals that would be worth millions and millions and all he wanted to do was hear about what her adopted dolphin pod had gotten up to. She made up the craziest gossip and it always had him laughing.
He was getting way too comfortable, but he didn’t want to stop.
“Josh?” Kayla looked at him and he got the feeling it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention. “Are you there? Or did you take a nap on me?”
He was wearing mirrored aviators. All the better to hide the fact that he’d spent the entire drive from Malibu to Beverly Hills staring at her. She wouldn’t know if he was looking out the window or napping. It gave him the chance to simply watch her, watch how her eyes widened when they passed some restaurant that apparently was the focus of a reality show, watch her as she couldn’t take her eyes off the beach as Declan drove them down PCH, watch her as she frowned at her cell phone when she got into some kind of weird emoji war with her not-brother, Tucker.
She was the single most fascinating woman he’d ever met. And it wasn’t simply about her quirks, though there were many of them.
“Nope, just thinking,” he said and sat up. “Lots to do in the next week.”
Because they were going to Mexico in a few days and he would go back to work. For the first time in his adult life he wasn’t looking forward to work. He usually hated his downtime and longed for the rigors of filming. For weeks and weeks he wouldn’t be able to think about anything but the character he was playing, from early morning call until he fell into bed exhausted and had to do it all again the next day. He would be able to live and breathe a whole other life.
Where would Kay fit in? He suddenly realized he liked those other lives because his was quite empty. How would he concentrate when he knew Kayla was waiting on the sidelines or back in the trailer? Typically he didn’t have sex when he was working.
No fucking way that happened this time.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she replied. “How many days are we spending at your friend’s place? It’s not on the ocean, right?”
“No, it’s in the interior but it’s lovely. Hector’s place is in the jungle, but not like a scary jungle. And you’ll still need a bathing suit. This is no shack. It’s a mansion in the middle of a lot of green and nature. I’m excited to show you.”
“What’s your friend like? And how did you meet some guy who lives in the jungle?”
He chuckled because she still sounded a little uncertain about the accommodations. She’d asked a ton of questions about the compound. He thought it was funny that a woman who’d been in as many crazy situations as his spy chick was nervous about the jungle. “He’s a huge donor to the children’s charity. When you write a million-dollar check, you end up getting invited to a lot of galas. A couple of years back, Hector came to our annual ball in Palm Springs and we kind of hit it off. He’s a bit older than me, but he’s self-made. He came up on the streets of Mexico City and built his business. I respect the hell out of him. I think you’ll like him, too. And don’t worry about the jungle. I’ve spent some time training. If we get lost, I promise I can find our way out.”
“What role was that for? Don’t tell me.” She snapped her fingers. “The Explorer.”
He’d played an English explorer who charted the Amazon. It had been one of the harder shoots of his life. “Yeah, I spent a couple of weeks getting used to the terrain. I had a guide teach me what I needed to know. I don’t like to pretend. I like to know and then show. Well, about the things I can. Never shot anyone, but I’ve done it a lot on screen.”
“Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s just messy and sad. It really depends on the victim. It’s like having a co-star. They affect the scene so much. You want someone you have some chemistry with.”
And then there were times she scared him. Oddly those times did something for him, too. Even when she casually talked about assassinating people, his cock perked up. How much time did they have before they got to the store?”
“But I totally think you should stick with research that doesn’t get you thrown in jail.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you spend time in jail for Proven Innocent?”
There was only so far he would go in the name of research. Besides, he already knew what it meant to be in a cage. “I talked to some convicts, toured a couple of max-security places. But I did learn how to get out of a pair of handcuffs. All the stuff about the prison break, I did the stunts. It was cool. They don’t let me do the dangerous stuff anymore. Insurance.”
Stupid insurance. He liked the car stunts especially. He was basically an expert after all the time he’d clocked on The Quick and the Enraged. He could drive just about anything, knew how to break into any car, get through any security system, and he was a master at hot wiring.
“So what all do you have to learn for this film?” She sat back, those petite but athletic legs of hers crossing as she got comfortable.
God, she was pretty. “It’s a film about a DEA agent who gets in too deep with a Mexican drug cartel. We’ve got a couple of weeks shooting in the jungle and Mexico City and then we head back home to shoot on the lots. I know most of this stuff, but I’ve got a former DEA guy who’s going to answer my questions and make sure I’ve got all the training right. The lingo is always hard. Every damn branch has its own, but I like to be spot on. I know it’s an action flick, but I give it a shot. Especially because if we get something wrong, I will hear about it. I get hate mail all the time about historical inaccuracies, continuity errors—anything that’s not perfect gets picked apart on the Internet. I want to at least be able to say I tried.”
“Yikes,” she said with a grimace. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Now I feel bad for being wicked hard on a couple of romance writers out there.”
“Come here.” He didn’t like her sitting over there. He couldn’t touch her. Now that they were in the city proper, the traffic was slowing them down and he didn’t worry as much about an accident. Declan was driving carefully.
She slid across the long seat without hesitation and didn’t struggle when he lifted her onto his lap.
“That’s better.” He wasn’t going to fuck her. They didn’t have the time and the last thing he wanted was Declan to park, open the door, and have some paparazzi catch them mid-bang. But he found he didn’t like not touching her. The minute she wiggled a bit, his dick responded, but he was okay with the discomfort. “I need to do a spy film so I can use all your stories. You can be my consultant. I bet you’re way prettier than Tyler Williams.”
He slid the strap of her sundress down and let his nose brush along her neck. He loved the way she smelled. Citrus and sunshine and ocean. He definitely loved that she didn’t seem to mind that he took great pleasure in smelling her skin and hair. Some women would view it as kinky, but Kayla just giggled when it got too tickly, as she would say.
She was the single most tolerant lover he’d ever had.
“So are you spending time with this guy? The DEA guy? Is he coming out to the house?”
Because she would cook for him. She would want to plan a dinner party and play the gracious hostess. She seemed forever obsessed with feeding the people around her. He let his hand cup her breast through the thin material of her dress. No bra. She wasn’t allowed one, but then she didn’t really need one. Her nipple peaked against his hand.
“I know he’ll be in Mexico. I’m hoping to catch him before we all head down,” he murmured. “He’s sent me a bunch of reading material and I talked to him on the phone. The man I was supposed to consult with decided he couldn’t take the time to come down to the set. This guy is a last-minute replacement, but he seems smart enough. I wish I had more time with him, but I’ve played FBI agents and at least four different cops. I know the basics. This guy will make sure I don’t miss the complexities.”
She was complex. It was what he obsessed over with her. Smart and funny and deadly all wrapped up in an erotic package that made him crazy.
Maybe they could skip the store and drive around LA fucking in the back of a limo.
The barrier between the front and back dropped down and Declan looked at them through the rearview mirror. “I’ll drop you two here and then find a place to park. Unless you want me to check it out first.”
Damn it. It was a reminder that things would change and soon. He had a job to do and part of that job was making sure she was ready to do hers. He couldn’t take her down there without a proper wardrobe. No one would believe she was his girlfriend if she wasn’t dripping in designer crap.
Regretfully Josh shook his head and eased her off his lap. “I think we’re fairly safe. I can’t remember the last time a person got shot at Chanel. Park and take a break. We’ll call you when we’re ready. I think it’ll take more than one store to get what we need. After all, variety is the spice of life, or so someone said. If she shows up wearing exclusively Chanel they’ll think I signed a deal.”
“Is it wrong that I’m super excited about this?” Kay asked, her hand on the door. Her dress had been righted and she didn’t look like a woman who’d been manhandled.
He reached out and stopped her. “Don’t be so excited you forget my manners.”
She was the kind of woman who bounded out of a car when it stopped, but he liked being the gentleman. So much of his life had been about brutality that he enjoyed the ease of social niceties, even when a lot of people considered them outdated. That’s why he called them his manners. Of course, what they really amounted to was protocol. They were finding their way with that. She was to allow him to give her every courtesy. He wasn’t allowed to call her property or be insanely jealous when she talked to another man.
Well, he wasn’t allowed to act on it.
He opened his side of the car and found Declan had already gotten out. The big man towered over him.
“You have to stay with her,” he said.
His bodyguards were pushy and all too often forgot who the boss was. “We’ll be fine. It should be a few hours. Take a nap or something.”
The big bodyguard’s eyes were also hidden behind sunglasses, and Josh was happy for that. Something about the man unnerved him at times. Shane was the all-American type, but there was something almost otherworldly about this dude. “I’ll be around if you need me. If you text, I’ll be there.”
Josh nodded and moved around the limo. He’d wanted to take the Porsche out, but apparently that went against bodyguard rules. Those rules that were meant to keep him safe were beginning to chafe. He needed his alone time, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon. He’d had some more threatening letters, these sent to his agent and publicist.
It was all crap. I love you. I want to kill you. I know your secrets.
Yeah, he didn’t buy that one because the person who knew his secrets didn’t send him letters through representatives. No. That bitch knew exactly how to get hold of him.
He was getting antsy. It was almost time. Almost time again.
He opened the door and held out a hand. Already someone walking down the street was turning, sunglasses coming off as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Josh ignored the gawker, preferring greatly to concentrate on the one good thing to have come from all the bodyguard crap.
Kayla slid her hand in his, allowing him to help her up, though they both knew she didn’t need any help from him physically. She was strong and steady. She could run in those mile-high heels and not break an ankle or a sweat.
And yet her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked up at the store. That almost childlike joy kicked him in the gut every time because he was the one providing the experience for her. This was a woman who wouldn’t get jaded or cynical. Who wouldn’t take for granted the little things in life. Hell, she talked to dolphins.
“You ready to have some fun?”
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” she asked, her eyes on the storefront. “I know you’ve got stuff to prep. I can handle this if you have work to do. I’ll call in a stylist to make sure I don’t pick up something embarrassing.”
“I can read the new pages while you try stuff on,” he assured her. “I’ve got my tablet and I can jot down questions for Tyler Williams. He’s already sent me a list of mandatory training my character would go through and some interesting case files that can serve as backstory. Besides, I like your style. If we bring someone in, she’ll try to put you in as many trends as possible. You tend to like soft, feminine stuff. I like that, too. On you.”
The limo drove away and they were left alone on the street. It was nice to be alone with her. He could pretend they were just another couple. He was the Dom, indulging his lovely submissive in a free-for-all shopping experience that would likely cost him six figures. Okay, maybe they would never be normal, but he liked it when they didn’t have an entourage around them.
“Are you sure you’re not protecting your wealth?” She grinned up at him.
He put a hand on his wallet. “Should I?”
“Oh, yeah. I can do some damage,” she promised. “And seriously, it’s been years since I shopped this way. Well, the Santa Barbara mall version of this.”
“I would have thought the life of a spy was filled with designer wear.”
“See, that’s where Hollywood gets it wrong. We mostly try to fit in, not stand out. Though there was this one time when I infiltrated the king of Loa Mali’s…oh, let’s call it a harem, for lack of a better word. There was designer wear then, but mostly bikinis and lingerie. We were on this unbelievable yacht. There wasn’t a lot of evening wear.”
He stopped, his brain working overtime. “The king of Loa Mali? The one who got married recently? What do you mean by harem? And how would you work in a bikini?”
She started toward the store. “Oh, I can work in a bikini. It makes hiding weapons a lot harder, but it forces one to be more creative. I killed this dude with a straw from one of those coconut drinks once. I had to. That string bikini was useless when it came to hiding a gun. And yes, it was that king, and maybe I shouldn’t tell you these stories.”
“Because they’re classified?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Because you look a little crazy pants right now.”
Because he was jealous. Didn’t matter that she told him he couldn’t be. He fucking was. He loved her stories. She’d started telling him crazy spy stories and he would sit and listen, soaking them in without ever quite believing them. But he could see her in a harem. He might not be able to truly visualize her assassinating the heads of the five top Yakuza syndicates at a conference with an ice pick and not getting blood on her catering uniform, but he could damn straight see a kinky king picking her out of a crowd for some dirty sex. Yeah, he could see that all too well. “I don’t like thinking about you using your body like that.”
Her brows rose. “Are you serious?”
He shook his head. “It’s different.”
She stopped and the joking left her face. “How is it different, Josh?”
Shit. Was it? He reached out to the only thing he could. “Well, for one you’re not lying to me. All our cards are on the table. We know this is an exchange, but then it always is. This is an honest exchange. I bet you didn’t tell the kinky old king who you were and why you were there.”
“No, and just for the record, he wasn’t that old. He’s only a couple of years older than me.”
Awesome. “Also, we’re involved in a D/s relationship. Did the king give you what you needed?”
She frowned. “He was way too gentle. And see, you call him kinky, but he wasn’t. He called me his delicate flower. I actually hated that part. Kash is a good guy, but he was a little fucked in the head in those days. And I did eventually tell him. I had to because a man working for The Collective showed up, blew up Kash’s lab where he’d been building an engine that ran on water, and tried to kill us all. I managed to get the king off the boat with scuba gear and the last of his research intact. And that’s totally classified.”
He stopped, frowning because he’d heard that story before. “That sounds like that movie. Love After Death. Hey, did someone drown after she managed to switch a bomb to the bad guy’s boat, and then the hero pulled her out and made everyone leave because he didn’t know what she’d done. And then he brought her back to life?”
That brilliant grin was back. “I have no idea how they haven’t arrested Serena yet. Probably because no one would believe it.”
He followed her inside. “Holy shit. You were the crazy CIA double who saved Pierce Craig.”
“I like to call him Big Tag,” she admitted and then sighed. “It smells like joy in here.”
The well-manicured attendants were already circling like sharks, but he drew her close anyway. “Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true.”
“Only sometimes?”
“The other times I think you’re too crazy to be true.”
She went up on her toes and met his eyes. “Maybe I’m both. Good and crazy, but I promise you, Josh. I am true. And you’re right. This is different.”
When she got close to him like this it was almost impossible to not lean down and brush his lips against hers. She was right there and she would welcome his kiss. He could be normal for a moment.
It didn’t do him any good to think like that. “If I stopped paying you would you stay with me?”
Her stare turned serious. “Yes.”
Why was he going down this road? He couldn’t seem to stop himself. “If I didn’t have money, would you still sleep with me?”
“I would pay money to sleep with you, Josh.”
A chill went through him and he stepped back.
“Josh?” She reached out and put her hand in his. “Do you want to go somewhere and get some lunch? I don’t need clothes. I’m actually pretty stylish all on my own. We have the afternoon. Let’s go do something fun for you. I think the Dodgers are playing.”
She killed him. This was how she fucking killed him. He knew how much she wanted those damn clothes. He’d watched her talk about designers and shit with his agent’s wife at a party they’d gone to a couple of nights before, but unlike the other women he knew, she would give up her shopping day to please him. This. This was why he said it was different with her, why the D/s part was different. In D/s, each partner had a role to play, but at the heart they were the same role—to please the other.
She pleased him. He’d probably never had a woman in his life who pleased him the way Kayla did.
He let go of the little ache that had come with words she hadn’t meant to wound. He brought her hand to his lips. “I want to see you in pretty clothes.” He leaned over. “Although you look best naked. Now spend some cash, baby.”
She moved in, brushing her body against his, her head tilting up. He loved how small she was compared to him, though he knew damn well no matter what his muscles said, she was the deadly one. “Are you sure? Because I would love to make you happy. I don’t know what I said…”
It took everything he had not to kiss her. He wondered if that was inevitable. Of course then he remembered where his lips had been and it was easier to back away. “You say all the right things. Ladies, this is the most beautiful woman in the world. Do you think your clothes are worthy of her?”
“Mr. Hunt, she’s going to look beautiful in the new collection,” one of the circling salesladies said.
“I think the colors this season will highlight her hair,” another said.
“I don’t know. She’s gorgeous. I think she’ll make our clothes look good.” The one male salesperson stood back, eyeing her with a totally non-sexual gaze.
“You”—he pointed to the man—“anything she wants, she gets. Now, I’m going to need a spring water and a quiet place to read. Can you do that for me?”
As always in his life these days, the answer was yes.
* * * *
Three hours later, he sat in Carolina Herrera’s North Rodeo boutique as Kayla fluttered about, three saleswomen working overtime to find her things to try on. He planted himself in one of the chairs between the bookshelves that lined the walls of this part of the store.
Three hours. Five stores. God only knew how much money he’d spent, but he liked this particular role. Indulgent Dom. That’s what he would call it. His submissive was being treated like a queen, and even then she’d found the time to pick out a new tie for him at Louis Vuitton. She’d claimed the blue reminded her of his eyes, and she’d insisted on paying for it.
Eight-hundred dollars versus the tens of thousands he’d spent on her wouldn’t be fair in some people’s eyes, but Josh understood the difference. He had eighty million socked away and it grew every single month. Kayla was not in the same position. Eight hundred meant something to her, so in a way, it was far more precious than what he was giving her. He had a hundred ties like it, but this one would be special to him.
Shit. When was the last time anyone had bought him a gift?
He pulled his phone out, the screen gleaming in the low light. It was peaceful in here. He could make some notes on the script changes. Notes like who the hell wrote this? And why hasn’t he been fired yet? His DEA agent shouldn’t sound like a just-out-of-college dipshit. The dialogue was peppered with youthful slang when this was a man who’d gone through the military and was pushing forty.
It all had to be changed and fast.
“Mr. Hunt?”
He looked up, expecting to see one of the saleswomen. It was their job to take care of not only Kay, but him, and he’d known at some point they would ask after his welfare. Saleswomen and men in Beverly Hills were the best trained in the world. They knew when to offer and when to step back.
And these were no different, every single one of them paying attention to Kayla as he’d asked. If he’d taken every glass of champagne he’d been offered today, he would be drunk. Unlike his girl over there. He glanced her way, but she was staring at a cocktail dress. She’d had way too much champagne and there she was, steady as a rock. His girl could handle her liquor. He would give that to her. He glanced up and the woman wasn’t wearing a name tag, but sometimes managers didn’t. “I’m fine, but you might see if Kayla wants a glass of champagne.”
If he got her tipsy, maybe they could play a game in the limo on the way back. She could be the naughty wife who’d bought way too many clothes and would be forced to pay her hubby back the only way she could…
“I’m not an employee, Mr. Hunt.” She was a tall blonde, maybe in her mid-thirties. Utterly perfect, and that made him wary. Everything about her was flawless, from her honey-colored hair to a body she probably worked on a few hours every day. He glanced down and sure enough there was a ridiculously large diamond on her left ring finger.
“All right, then. What can I do for you?”
If she asked for an autograph, he would force himself to smile and do it. Kay was mere feet away and she’d talked about how important it was to put a smiley face on in public. He preferred to shove people away, but this was her day.
The woman in front of him smoothed down her dress, making sure she cupped her ample breasts. “I’m your biggest fan, Joshua. You should know that. I’m also a regular here. I know every inch of this place. I thought you might like to take a tour of the dressing rooms. They’re very private. Very quiet.”
He frowned, his body going cold. “What would you like me to see there?”
She leaned over, giving him a view of her assets. “You could see anything you liked.”
Again he caught sight of the ring on her finger. He glanced up and it was apparent she wasn’t alone. A woman was watching her, frowning all the way, as though she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“I don’t like anything you have to offer. In fact, I’m insulted you would think I would take you anywhere at all.”
She seemed to fumble, going from seductive to a little horrified in an instant. “I was just…it’s more private in case you want to work.”
Sure. “I’m fine right here, and before you attempt to give me another private viewing of what you have to offer, try to remember that I came in here with a woman. Does she look like my sister? Hell, even if she was my sister, what kind of brother would I be if I left her alone to screw some random chick in a dressing room? You have a wedding ring on. I suspect that’s a present from the man who’s paying for this outing. Perhaps I should talk to him. I suspect the sales associates know who you are. Would your husband enjoy talking to me?”
She pulled back. “You’re an asshole.”
“A faithful one.” He didn’t cheat. He didn’t play around and he no longer sold himself. “An asshole who won’t mind calling out a faithless wife. Go away. Don’t come back or I’ll do something worse. I’ll ask my girlfriend what she thinks. You won’t like what she thinks.”
The woman practically ran the other way.
One of the salesladies stepped in. She wore a black sheath dress, her face pinched in consternation. “Are you all right, Mr. Hunt? Did that woman bother you? I’m sorry.”
At least he was getting stellar service. He forced his expression to clear as the woman and her friend—who was probably a nanny because she was pushing a baby stroller—fled the store. He didn’t want to put anyone on edge when they were being professional. “She asked a question I couldn’t give her an answer to, that’s all. Make sure my girl tries on the blue jumper. I think it would look wonderful on her.”
The saleslady grinned. “She’s wonderful. So funny and kind.”
That was his girl.
His cell buzzed in his pocket and he glanced down at the number. Fuck. Unknown. It was either honestly unknown and someone wanted to attempt to get him to vote one way or another or…it was time.
His gut was in a knot. “Is there someplace private I could take this?”
She pointed to the back of the store. “There’s an alley behind us. Follow me.” She led him past Kayla, who was slipping into a dressing room. She didn’t notice him. “We take smoke breaks back here. The door is going to lock, but the alley leads around to the front of the store. I could prop it open if you like.”
And risk anyone overhearing him? Not a chance. Actually, this was one of the reasons he’d decided to take Kayla out today. He had a long lunch planned for tomorrow and a meeting the next day, all so he could easily slip away from her and take this particular call.
He didn’t like hiding things from her. That was a surprise since most of his life consisted of hiding his past. He was used to it. Didn’t give it a second thought, but the fact that he was manipulating things in order to make certain she wouldn’t overhear a phone conversation bothered him.
When had he lost the upper hand?
He slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call as he made his way to the back. “This is Hunt.”
He pushed through the door going from the cool darkness of the back room into the heat of day.
Her voice rasped as though going through some kind of filter. It was always like this. “Tomorrow night. Solstice Canyon, eleven p.m. Leave the package at the foot of the statue of the Virgin Mary. As usual, come alone or we’ll have to believe you’re all right with everyone knowing your secret.”
“I know the spot.” Shit. They were supposed to go to The Reef tomorrow night. There was a party after the play session that he would be expected to attend. He would have to sneak away.
Fuck. He would have to sneak away from his bodyguards. That was easier said than done. Though they tended to think he was safe in the club. Likely he could convince Dec and Shane to merely do drop-off duty since Kayla would be with him all night.
“Don’t be late.”
There were other problems with his blackmailer’s plans. “And if there are hikers? You know night hiking is kind of a thing around here.”
“Then I suspect you’ll find a way,” she replied. “And watch out for the local wildlife. I’ve heard they get hungry at night. Don’t bring that new girlfriend of yours or she might get eaten right up.”
A chill went down his spine. “Leave her out of this.”
“I can’t. You brought her in. I find it curious that there’s little information about her out there. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I can find a bunch of well-crafted documents meant to throw off the casual investigator. I’m not casual, Mr. Hunt. I’m concerned that you’ve suddenly hired one of the premiere security firms in the world to do your security.”
Thank god it wasn’t about Kayla in particular. Although it really worried him that this woman knew so much about his business. Had he been fooling himself all this time thinking she was merely concerned with their business dealings and nothing else about his life? Was she always out there watching him? The thought irritated him, made him less cautious than he normally was. “Yeah, well there are more threats out there than some nasty bitch who knows about my past.”
Her voice deepened, whatever tech she used to disguise it making her sound the slightest bit demonic, and wasn’t that fitting? She was his personal demon made flesh. “Don’t think that opening up old wounds is all I can do to you. I can give you some spectacular new ones. If I find out McKay-Taggart is trying to find me, you’ll have some new scars that will make the old ones look minor.”
She hadn’t talked like this in years. Not since the one time he’d rebelled. “What’s changed?”
He probably shouldn’t question her. He should get off the line and get back inside and try to figure out how he was going to slip away from the club tomorrow night, but he found the curiosity overwhelming. And a bit terrifying if her answer came close to the one in his head.
Only one thing had changed.
“I told you. I don’t like you hiring investigators.”
“They’re not investigating anything except some of the crazies who’ve attached themselves to me. They know nothing about you at all and I intend to keep it that way. I haven’t done this for years to let this shit come out now.” It would ruin him in a way the actual crimes against him hadn’t. Letting everyone know how weak he’d been, how he’d been used and treated like trash.
“I’m not one of your crazies?”
This was the longest conversation he’d had with her in years. She typically got on, told him a location, and hung up. Something was wrong. Something had truly worried his always calm and cool blackmailer. “Not at all. Those people have mental illnesses. You’re evil.”
A throaty laugh came over the line. “Well, I should expect such drama from an actor. Evil? I’m a businesswoman and you’re an excellent source of income. Do you ever wonder how I came about my information?”
He stilled, not even the late afternoon sun warming him. A pit had opened in his stomach. He’d never been asked the question before, though he’d always, always known the answer. “I assume you know it all firsthand. Over the years I have wondered who you are, which house you worked in.”
A cold laugh came over the line. “You think I’m one of your pimps, Joshua? One of those sweet mommas who beat the shit out of you when you were bad and then tried to cover up the bruises so you would look good for the night? Or perhaps you think I was one of the women who purchased you, though I assume it was mostly men. No. It would surprise you to know that I’m younger than you.”
His heart constricted. Of all the scenarios he’d gone through, he hadn’t come up with this one. “Then you were…”
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I wasn’t one of the kids. Though I do know what it means to be in a prison not of my own making. You would be surprised how much we have in common. I found a way out, but it didn’t pay well. Not in cash. A smart person figures out how to turn assets into cash. You’re an asset, Joshua.”
“Who the hell are you?” He didn’t like the way his heart was pounding, his vision not as acute as it should be. A mist seemed to come over his eyes, the world tilting and turning.
Out of control. His control was nothing but an illusion. He fought so hard for it and it could be blown away with the slightest of winds.
“Isn’t that the question? The problem is if you find out, I’ll have to kill you, and that wouldn’t do either one of us any good,” she replied. “Make the drop. And I’m magnanimous. I get it. There are crazies out there. You need bodyguards, but not tomorrow night. Keep them out of our business and everything can go on the way it always has. But the second I find out someone’s sniffing around me or mine, I’ll do what I have to. You and yours should watch out. You know what I can do.”
The line went dead.
He stood there for a moment, utterly unable to move. Somehow he’d convinced himself that the blackmail was nothing more than the price of doing business. Everyone had secrets. God, in his business it really was everyone. No one wanted it to get out that they had a coke problem or weird sex fetish. Producers hid the fact that they fucked every starlet who wanted to be in their films, and actors pretended they hadn’t spent a little time on the casting couch, too.
Somehow it had become normal. Anything could be normal if you let it.
She watched him all the time. She knew his every move and she could take it all away.
His wealth, his success, it was all built on sand, and that woman was the tide who could wash it all away.
He hated her. Hated her with a violent rage he’d never felt before, and that was saying something since he’d killed a man when he was seventeen—his escape. He could still feel the man’s throat in his hands, see the way his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He’d known in that moment that if he didn’t get out, he would do this again and again and again. He would trade one horrible cage for a prison eventually.
He would love to kill that woman. To make it slow and painful.
“Josh, come on, man, give me a good shot.”
He barely heard the words through the haze of red floating in front of his eyes. He glanced over and there was a man walking into the alley from his left, his expensive camera pointed Josh’s way.
Fuck. Two minutes. He’d needed two fucking minutes alone. He needed to get back inside and then he could calm down. He would see if they had something stronger than champagne and he could get back into his role.
Indulgent Dom. That’s who he was right now.
Even though he was thinking about taking on the role of psychotic killer who needs to get his freak on.
“Please go away, man,” he said, his voice as bland as he could make it. “I need a little time.”
He tried the door, but it was locked. Damn it. He’d told the sales staff he would walk back around to the front of the store because he hadn’t wanted anyone to be able to listen in. He glanced to his right. There was a throng of people walking down the street, following someone who was speaking. They stopped at the edge of the alley, though they hadn’t looked down it yet. Some kind of tour. He didn’t need that.
“Give us a smile, Josh,” the man insisted. “Come on. One little smile. You always look sad. What do you have to be sad about? One smile and we can be done.”
Sure they would. No one would stop until they had their fill, got their strip of his hide. Everyone wanted something from him and they never, ever left until they were fucking satisfied. He might as well smile and get it over with. Grin and bear it. It’ll all be over with soon.
Except it never fucking ended.
Somehow he ended up turning and reaching for the man’s camera. It was in his hand before he actually understood what he was doing.
“What the fuck?” The man behind the camera was probably in his mid-fifties, his body showing signs of too much junk food and not a lot of exercise. His face went a florid red. “That’s mine.”
Josh tossed it against the side of the building. The camera came apart with a satisfying bang, its parts shattering and landing on the ground in pieces that would never fit back together again. That felt so fucking good. How much better would it feel to take the guy apart? He could see it plainly. He’d trained for this now that he thought about it. He’d trained in everything from Krav Maga to jujutsu to going through actual BUD/S training with a group of Navy SEALs. He could take a man apart without breathing heavy.
Take him apart. Bathe in his blood. Show that fucker a real smile. Yeah, he would be smiling at the end, and wasn’t that the best part? Everyone got what they wanted.
“Step back, Mr. Hunt.”
Declan Burke put his big body between him and his target.
“Get out of my way.”
Burke looked back at the photographer. “You need to run and fucking now.”
“But my camera,” the asshole complained.
“You’re about to look a whole lot like it,” Burke shot back. “Get the fuck out and next time I see you, I’ll let my boss here take you apart. Hell, next time I might help him.” He turned to Josh. “Calm the fuck down now. That tour group hasn’t noticed yet, but they will.”
“I don’t care.” He watched as the paparazzo ran out toward the street. Getting away.
Declan’s big body blocked the sight. “You think I don’t know that look? I know that look, man. I know it because I see it in the fucking mirror when I wake up.”
Maybe they would be well matched then. “You don’t know a fucking thing.”
“I know you feel out of control and deep down there’s this instinct inside you telling you how to get it back. It’s the alpha dog that lives in our guts. That alpha dog knows how to handle shit. He shows every single fucking yappy POS who the boss is. He bares his teeth and takes his hunk of flesh, and they either fall in line or they don’t get the fuck up again. Alpha dog doesn’t care. But man, the police do. Take a deep breath or better yet, do the other thing that will help.”
His hands were shaking but Burke made sense.
“Go inside that store and find Kay.”
His breath hitched. Kayla, who was sweet and submissive during sex and who was absolutely the alpha female. “I’m on the edge.”
“And she can bring you back.” Burke seemed to relax a bit. “At least that’s what she tells me. I think she cares about you and wouldn’t want you to hurt someone else.”
“And if I hurt her?”
“You won’t if you’re the Dom you say you are.” Burke took a step back. “Or we can go get a drink, but first off I’m going to get rid of that camera. When the cops show up, you can decide how to handle it, but they won’t have any evidence against you.”
“Keep them out of the dressing rooms until I’m done.” He heard the words come out of his mouth but his mind was already on her.
Yes, she was exactly what he fucking needed.