Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (8 page)

Darren shrugged, not looking too impressed. Well, he wouldn’t, after the stunt he’d pulled on me with my phone.

“Maybe I just don’t want to appear crude?” he suggested.

“Yeah, because tattooing your name across my cunt is so subtle,” I shot back, aiming for levity rather than bitterness. I didn’t quite succeed, but that just seemed to drive home the message that I wasn’t cringing away from him. He considered me for a second, pursing his lips.

“Why are you here? Not here, specifically. It is quite obvious what you’re here for.”

“Letting you fuck me?” I suggested, aiming for a languid shrug to go along with my words.

“That could hardly have been your goal.”

“Says who?” I asked, settling back on my right elbow as I continued to look up at him. “Just because I’ve had more sex than the average woman in her entire life doesn’t mean I intend to stop just yet.”

“So you weren’t busy stocking up and reclaiming your client roster?” he suggested.

I shook my head, smiling as if that very idea was ludicrous. “My clients? Of course not. You know how the spiel goes. You’re not paying the madam to send the whore to you. You’re simply reimbursing the girl for the quality time she’s spending with you.”

I really couldn’t read the look on his face, but some of the sharpness left his gaze. Was that a note of jealousy that I’d detected? Interesting.

“So you have switched sides?”

“I’m transitioning,” I said, mostly to add that little barb of possibility in there. From the way his eyes flashed it had found the intended target, but it only took him a moment to get a grip on himself again.

“I presume that means I will see you around?”

“There’s the possibility of that,” I replied, allowing myself another lazy, seductive smile. “Not that you have any problems finding me. It was a nice gesture of you, footing my bill.”

His lips curled up into an equal smile.

“After seeing you in that terrible dress with that fake tan and bad makeup, how could I let you continue to exist in such squalor?”

I hated that he’d been able to see right through my getup, but it also presented another opportunity.

“You noticed? Comes with the trade, I guess. After all, you do have to do their makeup and hair afterward, right? No whore dies pretty and perfectly put together.”

Now it was easy to smile at how a muscle jumped in his temple as he gnashed his teeth, but he forced himself to relax a moment later—much, much too quickly for my ease of mind. It still felt like a triumph that he seemed incapable of completely locking away that side of him that he so perfectly hid from everyone else in the world.
 

It was high time for me to end this—things could only go downhill from here.

“Well, it was a pleasure, as always,” I said, not even emphasizing anything in that statement. “But unlike you, I’m not here for that alone.”

Darren paused, but then took another step back, leaving enough room for me to remove myself from my perch.

“I see. Still not ready to cast off your leash.”

His barb stung, but I managed to fend it off with a simple gesture of my hand—the left now.

“Nothing’s free in this world. But I prefer the leash I choose a lot over the one that’s forced on me.”

With that, I left him standing there as I made my way back into the hall. By the time the curtain fell, I was back in my seat at Brigitte’s side, ignoring the wet stain that made my dress feel just a little icky. She shot me a side-long glance, but didn’t ask. A leash I might be wearing, but it was only a temporary one—and the day that I’d cast it off would come very, very soon.

I would have preferred to make a quick exit once people started to depart, but our work here wasn’t done yet. I helped myself to some champagne and forced a pleasant smile on my face as Brigitte continued to lead me through the rooms, pausing here for a moment, chatting there for a few more. It took a lot of restraint to refrain from seeking out Darren in the crowd, but in passing, I saw that he, Daliah, and the Mosses were crowded together with another couple roughly Alison and Ray’s age, making me guess that they were entertaining clients. They seemed in no hurry to depart, so I told myself to relax.

I was surprised when about twenty minutes into this, Brigitte pulled me to the side, her eyes idly skimming the crowd.

“You’re off the clock, as far as I’m concerned,” she said, her tone mildly teasing.

Raising my brows in question, I eyed her askance. “That soon?”

“Feel free to work the crowd on your own,” she offered. “But I’m done for tonight.” With that, she stepped away from me, and I followed her path through the people until she paused next to a sophisticated looking man in his sixties—which meant he actually looked ten years her senior easily, but the smile that spread across his face upon seeing her approach tore them right off his features. Her doctor, if I had to guess—the man who, according to her, had saved her from herself. They hugged briefly—although the way her hand stroked down his arm wasn't anything even close to casual—and together they turned to go, leaving me with a certain sense of melancholy. I didn’t need her verbal reminder to remember that talk we’d had, where she’d pretty much told me that the kind of arrangement that she had with that man was what I should seek out with Darren. Knowing what I did now, it was obvious that it never would have worked, but it still made me wonder what would have happened had I attempted to steer things in that direction. Would he have quit on me, leaving me with my heart heavy but my body and soul intact? It seemed much more likely that such a move would only have accelerated the inevitable, but without the trust he’d had in me until the very end—trust that had given me the one advantage that I’d needed to survive. As the saying went, I would never know.

It wasn’t coincidence that just as I thought that, my eyes found Darren’s in the crowd. He’d probably been watching me for a while, dividing his attention between his oh-so-sweet fiancée, his clients, and the prize that he really wanted to sink his teeth into. As I held his gaze, I couldn’t help but wonder how to proceed. What we were doing wasn’t unlike playing a mental game of chess—only that I had a single piece left to move: myself. The way his gaze smoldered even across the distance told me that while I’d given a greater concession tonight than I’d intended to, it didn’t seem to have left me at a disadvantage. In fact, maybe giving him that taste could work out in my favor, letting him remember what he’d lost—and what was dangling just out of reach for him now.

Suddenly, keeping to the sidelines was the last thing on my mind.

I didn’t head straight for them, but kept my halts to a minimum. There were less than twenty people in the building that I knew personally, so it wasn’t hard not to get held up. With my confidence now bolstered, I even found a hint of enjoyment as I watched him follow my path.
 

It was Alison, actually, who took the decision from me whether at all, or if, when, to approach them. While my focus remained mostly on Darren, I couldn’t help but notice that she kept watching him, if in a much more stealthy manner than he was staring at me. When she finally figured out what held his attention, her eyes narrowed, but only for a second. If there was anyone in the world who had a better game face than whores, it was lawyers.

A sharp nod from her had me drop my pretense of taking my time, and I purposefully strode toward the group. Darren’s spine straightened, but to say he stiffened would have been too much. Ray kept chatting with the middle-aged couple that was with them, although I doubted that he had missed me. Clearly, tonight was not the night to let the horndog out of the bag, and he was on his best behavior. It reminded me of one of his warnings—and the admission that, like me, he was playing a role more often than not.

Invited me she might have, but I was still surprised when Alison greeted me with open arms and a smile that looked real enough that it could have fooled me. “Penelope, what a surprise to see you here!” she said, quickly introducing me to her clients, the Appletows. Some smiles were exchanged but they clearly had no idea who I was. “It is so refreshing to meet a fellow patron of the arts here in your free time. I always have to find some incentive to get Ray and Darren to come along. At least I presume you’re not working tonight?”

I was burning to offer something stupid like I was technically never fully off the clock, but that was not an answer befitting the occasion. So instead I didn’t comment on her presumption at all.

“I love
Tosca
. I would have been devastated to miss it.”

Her brows drew together lightly.

“I’m surprised that you got tickets. The shows have been sold out for months already. Don’t ask what I had to do to get them.” Likely just a phone call to the right people, but it was a great opening that she presented me with there. I idly wondered why she did that.

“Oh, Brigitte and I have an open reservation,” I divulged. “Would have been a shame to let the tickets go to waste as they were already paid for. And it’s not like this isn’t a wonderful opportunity to network.”

“So this was a business expense after all?” Alison guessed.

I deliberately glanced at Darren as I replied. “It wasn’t all work. Part of tonight’s entertainment was all pleasure.”

When I looked back to Alison, her face was still that pleasant mask, but Ray seemed to have a really hard time reining his mirth in. Daliah was the only one who seemed unsure what to make of me.

“Are you here to recruit someone?” she asked.

So far, I’d ignored her—which wasn’t hard, half-hidden behind Darren as she was, as if he'd tried to make her disappear—but at her question everyone looked at her, Alison with plain amusement on her face, Ray’s smirk finally breaking through. Daliah seemed to realize that she had said something stupid, a hint of a frown appearing on her flawless forehead. “Didn’t you say that you work in human relations?”

Alison’s laugh was delightfully unladylike, making a few heads turn, but only until they saw who had committed that faux pas. I envied that power and reputation. I could only allow myself a somewhat belligerent smile.

“I’m not a headhunter,” I offered, my eyes flitting to Darren for a moment. “Why don’t you ask your fiancé what I am? He’s intimately familiar with the answer to that question.”

I expected Darren to be angry at me now, but, if anything, the only emotion on his face was a certain note of disappointment—as if he’d thought me above such a cheap jab. I continued to smile, but let it soften until it held a note of appeasement. Still, my annoyance could easily have been explained away as simple jealousy, so I made no move to tide things over completely. Let him make of that what he wished.

Daliah might not have gotten the hint last time, but something definitely tipped her off now. The way she tightened her grip on Darren’s arm was comically childish, and her glare could have used some practice, too.

“I think I’d like some more of that champagne now,” she said, tugging, and with a bemused smile on his face Darren let her steer him away. He didn’t look back, but then he didn’t need to—his touch still lingered on me, and no amount of turning away could change that. I had to force myself not to stare after them, but considering Alison wasn’t a woman easily ignored, it wasn’t that hard to transfer my attention to her. The fact that she seemed to see right through me rankled, but the bemused look on her face surprised me; I’d expected scorn, or maybe even an outright scowl.

Still, I had no intention of overstaying my welcome.

“Well, it was delightful to see you all here,” I said, starting to make my exit, but Alison followed me after I’d bidden the others a nice evening. Much to my surprise, she held out her business card to me.

“Why don’t you come by my office? Soon, if possible. I usually keep my mornings free.”

Pursing my lips, I took the card, holding her gaze evenly. “Any time you want to see me. You are the kind of woman I clear my schedule for.” Not that there was much to clear, except for Sundays, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Why, how about Friday, 7 a.m.? I believe in being the first in the office. Except for my secretary, of course. Who would make me coffee otherwise?”

I inclined my head, smiling blandly. Who would indeed? “I’d be delighted to join you.”

“Perfect,” she practically purred. “I likely didn’t say so expressively last time we met, but it’s great to have you in the city again.”

With that she stepped away to rejoin her party, leaving me to look down at her card, wondering what this was about. When I turned it over, I saw that she had added her personal phone number by hand. Exactly what did Alison Moss want with me?
 

I had a distinct feeling that, very soon, I would find out.

My calm lasted about halfway through the ride home, but it wasn’t like I could let myself fall apart right there in the back of the black limousine. My heart was racing, and my fingers kept clawing into the folds of my skirt, likely ruining the fabric for good. I couldn’t find it in me to care. If I burned the dress this very second, it would still not be soon enough.

At the Peninsula, I swept inside and straight to the elevator, not even capable of smiling at the page in attendance. The ride up took forever. As soon as the doors to my suite closed behind me, I dropped everything and tore off the dress, a first sob wrenching itself out of my chest as I staggered into the shower. I turned the spray on full—and as cold as it got—before I sank to the marble floor, my entire body shaking. Only my fist rammed between my teeth was enough to keep myself from screaming, and it took a good ten minutes until I even became aware of the fact that I was shaking from the cold. Forcing myself up, I turned the temperature to warm so I could wash my body, but soon that wasn’t enough. Not even scalding hot water was warm enough to make me feel clean as I tried to scrub not only the physical evidence of this evening away but also the memories—an impossible feat if there’d ever been one, of course. I still felt his touch on my body, could still smell his scent with every breath that I took. I ended up resembling a lobster as I staggered out of the shower, not giving a shit about what that had just done to my skin and hair.