Page 159 of Lethal Torture
“Oh, darling.” His low chuckle down the phone makes me smile despite myself. “Your dancers would be devastated if I suddenly reformed. And besides, we both know I’m quite beyond saving.”
He ends the call, leaving me smiling into the dim light of my office, which suddenly seems slightly brighter than it did a short time ago.
Backstage,the atmosphere is electric. I’m in my private dressing room, feeling the tension build as I start applying makeup and Shelby puts the finishing touches on my hair, an elaborate confection loaded with feathers and sequins. It’s two hours until midnight, so my costume is hanging in its cover on the rack, and I’m still wearing a silk robe.
“Have youseenthe crowd out there?” Shelby’s eyes are wide and luminous with excitement as she steps back to admire her work. “I swear there are more billionaires sitting in those booths than at a Davos convention.”
“I’m sorry I stole your crown.” I give her an apologetic look in the mirror.
“Yes. You suck.” She gives me a rueful smile. “I forgive you, but only because it’s life-and-death and all that intense stuff.” She shoots the door leading out to the stage a longing look. “I’ve spent all year seducing the client list to make tonight’s orgy the wildest on record, so if you mess it up, I’m going to kill you. Just saying.”
“Noted.” I smile despite my heart skipping uneasily in my chest. A knock comes at the door, and I belt my robe more tightly. “Come in.”
“Ooh.” Shelby bats her eyelashes over my head as the door opens. “McTasty! They normally don’t let men backstage, but foryou, darling, we are all happy to make an exception.” She sways close to Luke’s enormous figure. “New tux?” she purrs, trailing her fingers across his shoulder. “We should put you onstage. The women in the audience would tear it off you in seconds.”
Luke removes her fingers with a practiced smile. “Make sure you’re costumed up and ready to go onstage in case we need you, Shelby.”
“Darling.” She gives him an arch stare. “I’malwaysready.”
Looking between Luke and me, her mouth curls into a knowing smile. “Well, then. I’ll just leave you to it, shall I?” Blowing Luke a kiss, she sashays out of the room, closing the door behind her with a firm click.
I busy myself with the makeup case on the counter, avoiding his eyes. “Everything good to go?”
“Yes.” Luke comes to stand behind me, close enough to make me shiver, too far for me to fall back against him, which I badly want to do. The Hollywood mirror shows my face in vivid detail, while Luke’s figure is a huge shadow. His hands are thrust into his pockets, and although I can’t read his eyes in the dim light, I can feel them tracing my skin.
“That’s some hairdo,” he says.
I touch the towering peacock feathers. “It’s going to be a long night,” I say lightly.
I don’t have to see his face clearly to know it just closed over.
He pulls a tablet out of his jacket pocket and taps the screen, holding it up behind my head to show a close-filmed live stream of the home secretary sitting in a booth with Simon Lowbridge.
“I thought you’d want to watch this,” Luke says. I turn to find him watching me with dark, opaque eyes that I know from experience disguise laser focus.
“I thought you’d be too busy to be back here.”
“I wanted you to see this as it happens. But don’t worry.” His eyes rest on mine. “When you perform tonight, I’ll be watching. Closely.”
Relief floods through me, closely followed by a frisson of excitement.
Luke, watching me perform burlesque.
The thought turns me on a little more than I might like to admit.
Then I think of what comes after the moment of unmasking, and I’m hit by what feels like vertigo, sudden and sickening.
Luke, watching me participate in London’s most public orgy.
I close my eyes instinctively, unable to even contemplate it.
And yet,I think dully,heshouldsee it. See exactly what I really am, what this life is, once you tear away the illusion.
I open my eyes to find him still watching me. “I’ll be exactly where you need me to be tonight,” he says quietly. “Standing between you and anyone stupid enough to try to hurt you.” Something in his eyes says he knows exactly how terrified I truly am.
Just not for the reasons he believes me to be.
I don’t care about the men trying to kill me.
