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  I swung into a small shop that sold custom chocolates and picked up some ancho-chocolate chili treats and a bottle of water. With the water in my bag, I popped one of the spicy chocolates in my mouth and strolled down the sidewalk, not really seeing much of anything.

  Could Arik have really done it? Could he really be that cold?

  “So much for not thinking about him,” I muttered.

  The spice of the chocolate exploded on my tongue. Some part of my brain could appreciate it, but too much of me was thinking about Arik.

  I honestly couldn’t say if I thought it was out of character for him or not.

  I didn’t know him.

  I knew how he tasted, and I knew how he felt inside me. I knew the thick dark red color of his hair and the way it felt between my fingers. The rich emerald of his eyes. I knew the feel of his hands on my skin...

  No.

  I didn’t think he could.

  But sex, for all its intimacy, wasn’t really the same as knowing somebody. Not when there was nothing else to go with it. It wasn’t like we’d gone on a couple of dates, and then had gone to bed together.

  We’d met, danced, fucked.

  Then we’d seen other people, and fucked again.

  All told, we’d spent maybe six or eight hours together? Probably not even that, and some of that had been sleeping.

  Very little had been spent talking about anything other than sex.

  “I can’t keep doing this.” I popped another chocolate into my mouth as I stopped in front of a window displaying mannequins in underwear.

  I’d go back to the club, I decided. Find a guy. Somebody who was a far cry from Arik. Maybe I’d try to find the guy I’d been with a few days before I'd met Arik. Or somebody completely different. I didn’t know. But I’d do something.

  I’d find a way to make Arik nothing but a hot, pleasant memory.

  Yeah, right.

  ***

  It was a few hours before I managed to actually get to Club Privé. I had to go home and change, of course. I could've gotten in dressed the way I was, but I never went there unless I looked good.

  Really good.

  And I did.

  My skin was itching, my heart pounding. Familiar symptoms. I recognized all the signs, and I wanted to tell my body to chill the hell out. I wasn’t looking for him, and even if I saw him, I planned to turn around and walk the other way. There was no way I’d try to talk to Arik right now. I couldn’t stand the idea of it.

  That’s what my brain said.

  My body had an entirely different message.

  Fortunately, my brain was in charge.

  For the moment, anyway.

  “Idiot,” I muttered, ignoring the odd glance I got from the woman manning the door. “Sorry. Not you. Ignore me.”

  “Never, Ms. Monroe.” She gave me a benign smile and nodded toward the door. “Have a good evening.”

  I gave her a smile as I headed inside. By the time I reached the VIP level, my pulse had almost settled to normal. Take a look around, I told myself. Make sure he isn’t here.

  That was the first thing I needed to do. I didn't want to risk running into Arik.

  It took almost ten minutes for me to feel comfortable in the knowledge that he wasn’t here at the moment. Unless he’d gone back to one of the rooms already. I knew I could ask Gavin to find out for me, but that seemed...stalkerish.

  No.

  I wouldn’t do that.

  I’d just go find a guy, dance.

  Something.

  A quick look around told me that neither Gavin nor Carrie were up here either. I did see two of Gavin’s top management personnel, which told me he was probably off for the night. Sundays tended to be slower here, so he and Carrie were probably enjoying a quiet night at home.

  Lucky, I thought, oddly miserable. I didn't know what had gotten into me. It'd never bothered me before.

  I got a drink and headed for the lower dance floor, determined to find a way to lose myself. I needed a release before going back to work tomorrow, or I was going to snap the first time Bethany did something bitchy.

  Down in the crush of the bodies, sipping on an ice cold beer, bodies pressing in on me, I tried to let go.

  I failed.

  I was about ready to just give up when a tall form danced into place next to me. Swinging a look up at him, I saw a face that was beautiful, carved, almost cold, but in an attractive sort of way. He brushed a hand across my shoulder questioningly.

  I inclined my head and nodded. He moved in closer and spun me around, pressing my back to his chest.

  He was hot. He wore a white T-shirt, but through it, I could feel his body heat and it warmed some of the cold places in me. That was good.

  For a while, all we did was dance. He could move. Again, good.

  After the first few dances, he pulled me in closer and let me feel the hard length of his cock against the small of my back. When I didn’t pull away, he pressed his mouth to the curve of my neck, then moved up to speak into my ear.

  “I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

  Angling my head up to meet his dark eyes, I said, “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.”

  He splayed a hand over my belly, bared by the lace-edged top I'd paired with my mini skirt. His palm was hot against my skin, and when he swept his thumb upward, it grazed the lower curve of my left breast. I gasped in reaction.

  “Maybe you’d like to check out one of the private rooms.” He made it a statement rather than a question.

  I swallowed, staring at the lights pulsing on the floor. His teeth raked my neck and a shiver went through me.

  “Yeah, I would.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, red-faced and trembling, I stood by the wall while the man glared at me, pressing the back of his forearm against his bleeding nose.

  “Whad da fuck ‘ou do dat for?” he demanded, his voice a harsh, nasal twang.

  I was pretty sure I'd broken his nose, but at the moment, I didn't feel bad for it.

  “I told you,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “If you want me on my knees, you ask. No one forces me.”

  “Are you a fuckin’ sub or not?”

  The door behind him opened and one of the bouncers stepped in, a menacing expression on his face. His eyes widened when he glanced at the man and then at me.

  I’d inadvertently hit the room's panic button when I clambered away from him. I could have deactivated it, but I wanted the guy out. I was miserable and embarrassed. All I wanted was to be alone right now.

  The man pointed a finger at me before looking at the bouncer. “If she tries to say I violated the rules, she’s lying. She said the safe word, and then she busted my nose. I stopped when you said it, didn’t I?”

  “I didn't mean to hurt him,” I said tiredly, directing my comments at the bouncer.

  I was pretty sure his name was Bennie or something like that. He gave me a look that clearly said he didn't believe me.

  “I didn't,” I insisted. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at him. “I jerked my elbow and hit his nose.”

  “I want her gone,” the man interrupted.

  “Not gonna happen,” Bennie said. “We can either check the security footage together, or you can agree to go your separate ways.”

  I was suddenly glad that I'd come to Club Privé instead of someplace else. Gavin insisted on having cameras in the private rooms for situations like this – or worse. No one was watching the monitors, and only he or Carrie could access the files for playback, but knowing the cameras were there had always made me feel safer.

  “I'll go,” the man said, looking sulky.

  Bennie nodded as the man grabbed his shirt and headed back out to the main floor. I wondered if he'd still try to find someone tonight or not. A guy like that, it was hard to tell.

  “Ms. Monroe?”

  I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “I'd like to be alone, if that's all right. I'll pay for the room
as long as I'm here.”

  Bennie nodded. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

  He walked out and I flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was still completely dressed. I hadn’t even gotten around to taking my boots off. I hadn’t even gotten around to being turned on enough to want to be undressed.

  My almost-partner hadn’t done anything, not exactly. Not when he’d tangled his hands in my hair and tried to push me to my knees, talking about how he wanted to see my lips wrapped around his cock.

  It'd been all about him.

  Not like Arik.

  My breath hitched.

  Slowly, I slid a hand down my stomach, under the waistband of my skirt, under the waistband of my panties. Fingers skimmed the thin curls covering my sensitive flesh.

  I didn't need my fingers to tell me I was wet.

  All I had to do was think of Arik, and my body was ready.

  In, out...again. My pussy was wet, gripping my fingers as I began to slide them into me. Rolling onto my stomach, I began to ride my hand, imagining it was him. His cock, his hand, his mouth…all of him. In me. Beneath me. Around me.

  The climax came on quick and hard. Too easy.

  Just thinking about him could do more than some real men could manage with endless patience and eagerness.

  “Please,” I whispered into the smooth white sheets. “Don’t let him be a fake.”

  Chapter 3

  Arik

  The cops had left.

  The security personnel from the building had left.

  Dena was long gone.

  Nobody was hovering around.

  Now, I just needed to get Leayna to calm down and actually listen, although that seemed like wishful thinking.

  After she swung by the table for probably the fifth time in three minutes, I got up and caught her arm, trying to stop her endless pacing. She stopped, staring at me with wide green eyes. She blinked up at me, her lower lip trembling a little.

  I felt awful for her, and wished there was some way to make any of this easier, but there was nothing I could do, no matter how much my gut said she was innocent.

  “We need to talk,” I told her softly.

  She gave me a nod, falling in step with me when I led her back to the table, although each step was reluctant. She was only walking with me because I had my hand gripping her arm gently. If I let go, I had no doubt she’d bolt like a rabbit.

  When we sat down, I took her hands and she gripped mine. “This has been a lousy day, huh?”

  Leayna just stared at me. I tried a smile, hoping to see some sort of response from her. Nothing.

  After a few more seconds, I squeezed her hands gently and said, “How about a drink? Would you like some tea?”

  “I want a drink.” Her mouth tightened into a hard, flat line. Leayna pulled her hands back and I watched as she stood. “But I damn well don't want tea. I’ve got scotch. Want any?”

  Tempting. “Ah, no. Thanks, but no. I’m working, Leayna.”

  She shot me a look over her shoulder, her mouth turning down into a vulnerable sort of frown.

  “Feel free to get some yourself, though,” I said. “You’ve had a rough day.”

  As she started going through one of the cabinets, I moved to the hall, finding myself drawn back toward her study and the array of paintings, the smashed bits of glass. She trailed along behind me and I could hear liquid sloshing in her glass as she swirled the scotch. “Do you have an idea how much was destroyed in here?”

  “No.” Her voice was sad. “I know there’s value, but the value to me wasn’t the money. It was something…different. Something deeper.”

  I understood what she meant. And I couldn't help but think that whoever had done this had purposefully destroyed things that mattered to her.

  “Is there any chance the person who broke in...” I hesitated. How did I ask it? Maybe straightforward was the best way to go. “Leayna, could the person who did this have been sent by the people who threatened you? Was this a way to hurt you?”

  The laugh that escaped her was awful. Awful and broken, and it echoed in my ears like nails dragging down the chalkboard.

  “There’s nobody else left to hurt, is there?” Her shoulders shuddered. “He’s gone because they killed him, so who else is left?”

  “Who are they, Leayna?” I caught her hands and squeezed. She'd given me a general idea before, but no names. Every time I pressed for a name, she shut down.

  This time was no different.

  She pulled back and I let go, watching as she got up and began to pace. “I don’t want to talk about this, Arik.” Her hands were trembling. “Have you been able to see about getting me protection?”

  I waited for her to turn and look at me. “I’m still trying to decide the best way to do that. If we go to the DA's office with this, they'll want information, Leayna.”

  She flinched. “Information on what?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know anything. He was a dirty son of a bitch, but I loved him anyway. I was so stupid.”

  Her face crumpled and she started to sob. Rising to my feet, I crossed over to her. She tried to move away, but I caught her around the shoulders and guided her back to the table.

  “We’re going to get through this,” I said gently. “Okay? We’re going to get you through this. But I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me everything you can. I need to know who could have broken in here.”

  “I don’t know!” Her voice rose to a sharp wail before breaking off into sobs.

  I wouldn’t get anywhere with her like this. Sighing, I patted her shoulder and let her cry it out. When it finally ended, I handed her a handkerchief and let her dry the tears. But when I started to move away, she lay a hand on my thigh.

  It wasn’t apprehension that filled me, exactly.

  More like resignation.

  “Thank you,” Leayna said, her voice husky and raw.

  “You’re welcome.” I took her hand and moved it away, but all she did was turn her body more fully to me, snuggling her head up on my shoulder.

  “He never would have sat here and listened to me cry like this. I’m starting to realize how stupid I was to stay with him after I realized he never really loved me.” She rubbed her cheek against my suit jacket.

  Dammit.

  “You’ll find a man who does love you, Leayna.” I patted her shoulder and eased away.

  She lifted tear drenched eyes to me, beautiful despite the reddened eyes. The tip of her nose was pink, but she still managed to look lovely.

  But when I looked at her, touched her, I felt nothing. My reaction wasn’t based on the fact that it was wrong to be drawn to her because she was my client. It was simply because I didn’t want her.

  I caught her hand before she could touch my face.

  “You’re feeling lost and you need somebody to turn to, I understand that. I can talk to you and offer advice, but I can’t be anything else, Ms. Mance. It’s not even wise to be a friend. I’m your lawyer, but that’s it.”

  She jerked as if I’d slapped her, but I kept going.

  “I’d like you to pack a few things. I’m taking you to a hotel.”

  Lower lip trembling, she tore away from me. “I don’t want to go.”

  “You should follow my advice.” As she started to pace again, I tucked my hands into my pockets so she couldn't reach for them again. “I can’t make you go, Ms. Mance, but it’s not safe here for you. They’ve already proven they can get in without leaving any sign.”

  ***

  She ended up going to the hotel, but she was still upset with me.

  Once I had her settled, I headed for a bar a block away from my apartment. I wanted a drink, and I wanted some hard, fast sex.

  Dena’s face flitted through my mind, but she was out of the question.

  Had she known who I was?

  It was hard to believe that Bethany was unaware of anything having to do with this case, and that manipulative she-devil would do anythin
g, use anybody to get ahead. Even if it meant sending one of her underlings to fuck with me.

  Or, more accurately, fuck me.

  But Dena hadn’t seemed liked that.

  Not at all.

  But maybe that was the whole point.

  My gut twisted as I settled at the bar I usually went to when I wasn't in the mood for a club scene. I flagged down the bartender.

  “Your usual?”

  I nodded and a moment later, a glass of Glenlivet 18 Year was placed in front of me. As the rich taste slid down my throat, a woman settled on the stool next to me. I glanced over. After a second drink, I took another look.

  She was pretty.

  Long black hair swept into an elegant chignon, sleek red dress. Her dusky olive skin made me think she was Latina. She was beautiful, that was certain.

  “Hi.” She gave me a smile, her Cupid’s bow mouth curving up invitingly.

  I nodded at her.

  She stroked a finger along the low neckline of her dress, purposefully drawing attention to her generous cleavage. “Would you like some company?”

  “Sure. Want a drink?”

  She touched her finger to the tip of my glass. “What’s that you’re drinking?”

  I offered it to her and she took a slow sip. When she put the glass down, she smiled at me again.

  “I love it. I’ll take one.”

  I ordered another scotch, watching her dark eyes. She slid her tongue over her lips, slicked the same red as her dress. She was definitely here looking for a good time.

  When she settled her hand on my thigh, her fingers just a few inches from my crotch, my cock twitched, but I knew it was just a normal male reaction to an attractive woman. It wasn't anything special. Not like when I thought about Dena.

  That was all it took to make my cock harden.

  My companion thought it was her, and that was fine with me.

  She also thought it was her when we left a few minutes later. She invited me to her apartment, and I found myself thinking about the safety precautions Dena had taken the first time we'd been together. Carmen hadn't taken any such precautions, and it made me think a little less of her.