Page 3 of Forbidden Desire

“I did,” she said, and twisted a shoulder in the guys’ direction again. “So if I could be excused…”

Like she was back in school or something. Men made the rules around there… Sometimes it felt like they made them up as they went along. Not that she could judge anyone for acting on impulse.

“You’ve been in my club every night for a month.”

“I didn’t know anyone was keeping track.” No one in that room anyway. “Have I hit my quota?”

“Why?”

“Why have I been in your club every night for a month?” she asked. His finger rose to his cheekbone, supporting his head with the elbow on the chair arm. The slightest movement of a nod confirmed her question. “Did I win a prize?” Each of the guys at the door and the third still by the curtain got her attention for a few seconds. “Don’t you want repeat customers? I don’t keep a tab. I pay cash every night.”

“Woman like you shouldn’t be carrying cash in this neighborhood.”

“In any neighborhood,” she said in agreement. “I have my reasons.”

“Tell me.”

Her next exhale was almost a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right? What do you care?”

“What do you have to hide?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” she said. “But I don’t owe you a damn thing.” Wow, okay, defensive wasn’t a good stance. She eased off the gas. “Look, if you don’t want me coming back, I won’t come back. This is an easy fix.”

And boy had she misinterpreted the invitation upstairs. Now she almost wished sex was his motive. Drawing the attention of the McDades, the suspicious of nefarious motives attention, was dangerous. No one would care who her daddy was before she was butchered and strung up. After, maybe, but what would she care? She’d be dead. Dead was never a good outcome.

“What’s your name?”

So cool… The aloof attitude didn’t bother her. Except it sort of did. Her lower back prickled in a really weird way. One she didn’t like. Her hips wanted to move in response to it, to sort of squirm against the vibration of his brogue in the air as it carried to her. It made her itchy and tense. Keep calm. Chill. Deep breath.

Nausea tumbled low in her belly.

Answering his question could either free or kill her. Fifty-fifty odds weren’t the kind to play with in a room like this.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“I want you to tell me why you visit here every night.”

“The music is good,” she said. “I enjoy being around people.”

As one corner of his mouth twitched, he licked his lips and turned his chair just a fraction to look at the guy by the curtain.

“Lies easy.”

“They always do, Ire,” Curtain Guy said.

Whoa, boy, Curtain Guy was Irish too. Not Americanized Irish like his boss, his accent was the full deal. How did people go about their business around that accent?

McDade rolled himself in at the desk. “Take her to the basement.”

“Wait…” she said when the other three men started toward her. “The basement? I know about the basement…” She held up both hands, but the duo of goons grabbed her anyway. Curtain Guy walked around to nudge her toward the exit from behind. “About the people taken down there who are never seen again…” Fighting the grip on her arms, she tried to dig her heels in and resist Curtain Guy’s insistence. “About the things you do to people, the disfigurement… how you torture women for your sexual pleasure…” Dropping her weight, she yanked left to right, determined to get away from her assailants. On the threshold of the stairs, desperation freed the truth. “Vex! I’m here because of Evander Manzani!”

“Hold.”

The brogue again. The guy at her back stepped aside and, although the grip of the two thugs stayed strong, they gave her enough leeway to twist and look at the boss behind the desk.

She blew her hair from her face. “Evander Manzani…” Known as Vex on the street. Even saying his name tightened her chest. “I come here because he can’t get in. Him and his people. They can’t… get to me here.”

His head bobbed in a simple backward nod. The thugs let her go and McDade’s lazy hand moved in a single finger point toward the rug. She touched her cleavage and there was another subtle nod. Straightening her dress, she tried to be graceful about sweeping her purse from the floor in her return to her previous spot on the stag head.

---