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Authors: Tina Donahue

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Right now, he looked like the kind
of man who should be in a woman’s bed. Dynamic, his skin flushed with need and
a bit of outrage, his body tamed for the moment by his clothing—a long-sleeved
Polo shirt, the color of cinnamon, the same as his pants.

However, once he was naked, Ronnie
knew he’d unleash his power, taking whatever he wanted while delivering
exquisite pleasure in return.

“No,” she admitted at last. “Wallace
is my chauffeur.”

Hunt smiled. Just like that, he was
back to being the perfect guest.

“So,” he said, “that leaves the
question as to why
Alexa’s
been following me—and
don’t deny it. Of all the places she could have eaten lunch, she picks my favorite.
For the very first time too.”

He leaned up in the chair, resting
his arm on his thigh. “I’ve never seen her there before. If I had, I would have
remembered. So why is she following me if she refuses to book another
appointment or agree to a regular date?”

Ronnie couldn’t hide her surprise,
though she managed to keep her pleasure from showing. “You actually asked her
for one?”

“I actually suggested several things
we might do, just like a normal couple. She kept saying no. Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“I did.
At the
restaurant.”
He frowned. “Why is she doing this at all?”

“What?”

He was back to being pissed.
“Servicing your clients.”

Ronnie bristled at his accusing,
self-righteous tone. “So you believe it’s wrong for a woman to seek pleasure,
to treat it as a natural right as men do.”

“I didn’t say that, and that’s
hardly what she was doing.”

“With your friends, you mean? With
them, she was simply on the clock. Only with you was she enjoying herself.”

“I was there, all right?”

“Seeing what you wanted to see,” she
countered.

His expression darkened. “So you’re
saying she’s following Tim and David too? That’s her thing? Shadowing her
clients’ every move? Sorry, but I don’t believe it for a minute.”

“Of course you don’t. You men
believe you know everything, especially what’s good for a woman. Like the
wisdom of having her earn seventy cents on every dollar you make.
And insisting on controlling her body so she doesn’t dare use it to
get what she needs or wants.”

He spoke through his teeth. “There
are other ways to make a living.”

“Indeed there are. Tell me, Mr.
Prescott, has anyone suggested those words of wisdom to you? That you shouldn’t
use your good looks and charm to woo those on the Hill, which by the way has
enriched you financially?”

“It’s hardly the same thing.”

“Of course it’s not. For you and
every other man, it’s business as usual. For a woman, it’s a so-called sin to
use her sexuality unless she’s forced into it by a pimp, which then makes her a
whore who deserves to be arrested and punished. Her poor client, well, he’s
free to find another girl to seduce him into doing something he shouldn’t. It’s
not his fault, is it?”

She smiled derisively. “This big,
powerful guy has absolutely no control when it comes to a tiny female. And that’s
the problem. She has the power now. So isn’t it far more acceptable to strip
her of that, to have her settle for a life where men decide how much money
she’ll have. For many of these girls, that would mean ending up as the working
poor or existing on welfare, while society tells them to wait and hope for a
man to rescue them. Trust me, that
doesn’t
happen.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Clearly
I’ve offended you when that wasn’t my intent. I apologize.”

“Accepted.
So tell me, why do you go on dates of the regular kind?”

Confusion replaced his wariness.
“To have fun.
What else?”

“And you don’t believe you pay for
that pleasure?”

“No, I don’t. Never have.”

“Thank you,” she said to Francine,
taking the glass of water from her. Ronnie waited until the young woman had
delivered Hunt’s bourbon and left the room before she continued.

“You don’t consider shelling out
money for a meal, the theater, a movie or any other activity paying for sex?
How far do you think you’d get with the ladies if you didn’t romance them with
all that other stuff? How many would be thrilled to have you just show up at
their apartments or homes so you could haul them to bed and do whatever you
pleased?”

“Do you really want me to give you a
list?”

My, what
confidence.
If any other man had said that, she
might have laughed. Oddly enough, Ronnie found she liked Hunt even more. He
wasn’t arrogant, just uninformed about females, as most men were, despite his
obvious success in that department.

“Women who matter,” she clarified.
“Women you really want as you clearly do
Alexa
.”

He took a sip of his bourbon,
wrapping both hands around the glass as he swallowed. “I’m not going to debate
this with you. I can’t possibly win. I know
Alexa
wants me as much as I do her. At the restaurant, we…”

Hunt paused and took a healthier sip
of his drink.

His unexpected blush wasn’t lost on
Ronnie. Feeling mischievous, she asked, “You what?”

“We kissed,” he said, shooting her a
look before glancing past. “And we…argued about a date. I know when a woman
doesn’t want me, and trust me, I’m not a stalker. If things don’t work out with
someone, fine. I move on. But I can’t figure
Alexa
out.”

He shoved his fingers through his
hair,
then
dropped his hand to his lap. “After she
responded to me as she did that night on R Street and at the restaurant, why in
the hell would she refuse to have us see each other again? Why in the fuck
doesn’t she allow what she calls a one on one?”

“Why should I tell you?”

He let out a disheartened sigh and
leaned back in his chair. “For the same reason you let me in here, I suppose.
You didn’t have to, but you did. I get that you’re concerned for her welfare. I
understand too that you don’t think I’m a threat. I can see it on your face. So
why does she insist on two or more men at one time? And don’t tell me it’s
because she has a right to enjoy herself just like a guy. I get it. I’m on
board. Hell, I’m no saint. I’ve had two ladies taking care of me more than
once, but it’s not my preference. As far as
Alexa’s
concerned, I want her.
Only her.”

His confidence was gone, replaced by
naked desperation, the kind that consumed a man, taking away his pride, leaving
him with nothing but need.

Another woman might have consoled
him. Ronnie tapped out her pills and downed them two at a time.

He watched, concern flickering
across his face. “Are you feeling all right?”

She swallowed another sip of water
and cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”
Concentrating on this
conversation, seeing his touching desire for
Alexa
made Ronnie forget her pain for a moment.
For that more than anything
else, he’d earned her gratitude.

She tempered her previous bitchiness
with a bit of warmth. “You have to understand, anything I may tell you about
what drives
Alexa
is pure speculation. I’m no shrink,
though I’ve been to my share.”

Hunt put his glass on the end table
and leaned forward, clasping his hands. “Just tell me what you think. That’s
all I ask.”

She should have refused. In a way,
Ronnie sensed she was betraying
Alexa
. At the same
time, she knew she might be saving the girl from the way her own life had
turned out.
Growing old without a husband and family.
Not having the comfort of children and grandchildren that other women took for
granted.

“You know who her father is,” she
said.

Hunt squeezed his fingers, causing
his knuckles to blanch. “Did he treat her badly?”

Ronnie nearly smiled at how
protective he was, liking it. “Mostly he ignored
Alexa
.
I suppose that’s why she acted out as she hit her teens, trying to get his
attention. She drank, smoked,
experimented
with drugs and
sex. The other kids were doing it too, but she didn’t even try to hide it. Got
herself
expelled from a lot of fancy boarding schools
throughout Europe.”

He grinned. “That’s baby stuff. You
should hear about my past.”

Another blush crept up Ronnie’s neck.

Hunt looked equally embarrassed.
“Right.
I forgot you already have.” He readjusted his weight
in the chair. “Her father was an idiot for not caring. How in the hell could he
have ignored
Alexa
, especially when she was a little
kid? She was adorable in those glasses.”

Ronnie blurted, “You’ve seen
pictures of her in them?”

“Yeah.
Not anything personal,” he added quickly.
“Just school photos.”
He sighed. “She looked lonely.”

“She was. That’s why she likes to be
surrounded now.”

Hunt stared, and then understanding
swept his features, telling Ronnie he finally recognized what she’d figured out
long ago.

Alexa
chose to do this because she was the one in charge, the one
being sought out, the one who was adored. The men approached the agency and
ultimately her. She didn’t make the first move. And if one of them didn’t prove
attentive enough, there was always another on hand, at times several, to fill
the void her father had left behind.

Not that it lasted.
Alexa
was still that lonely little girl who wanted a man to
cherish her.

“How do I stop her evening with my
friends?” Hunt asked. “I don’t want them with her. I’ll pay to stop it.”

“Won’t work.”
She fingered the edge of the
seafoam
-green
scarf she wore. “You can’t tell
Alexa
what to do
anymore
than you can your friends.”

He pushed out of his chair, his
hands fisted. “I swear, if they touch her, I’ll have to kill them.”

Ronnie lifted her brows.

“I’ll hurt them badly,” he amended,
then
sighed. “I can’t just let this happen.”

“I’m not saying you have to. There
is a way to control the situation. One
Alexa
can’t
argue with.”

“How?”

“Stand up to her,” Ronnie said.
“Challenge her. Win her to your side.”

Chapter Seven

 

At quarter past ten, Wallace pulled
up to the house, another of Ronnie’s holdings in the District. This one she
rented out to keep the curious or self-righteous from asking too many
inconvenient questions. Tonight, the building’s residents were in Europe at the
halfway mark of their three-month vacation, leaving the place free for an
assignation.

For which
Alexa
was thirty minutes late.

Usually, she arrived well ahead of
the men to make certain everything was in order, including herself. This
evening, she hadn’t been able to get moving. Showering had been a monumental
effort. No matter how many times she’d reapplied her mascara and lipstick, it
didn’t look right. Her hair wouldn’t behave. She couldn’t decide what to wear.

“Ms. Marsh?” Wallace glanced in the
rearview mirror as he waited for her to depart the sedan.

Alexa
stayed put, regarding the three-story white brick house.

Of a Federal design, the Palladian
windows on the second floor glowed with peach-colored light. Tim and David were
already here, no doubt wondering when…or if…she was going to show up.

“Is everything all right?” Wallace
asked.

Alexa
wrung her hands, wanting to run, something that had never
happened to her before. In the past, she’d looked forward to these nights,
feeling a surge of confidence and power at what she would orchestrate, how
she’d make the men notice and want her.

Without warning, intense loneliness
replaced her dread. She longed for Ronnie’s embrace…or Hunt’s.

Yeah, right. As if he’d be there for
her. He wanted her as many men did, but it was only about sex and winning the
game she’d started by refusing to see him again, then giving in to desire at
the restaurant. No wonder he was confused at her mixed messages. They were
driving her nuts.

This had to stop. Her melancholy was
foolish.
Like a stupid little girl.
She frowned.
What is the matter
with you?

“This is the correct address, isn’t
it?” Wallace asked.

“What? Yes.
Of
course.
I’ll see you later.”

Alexa
left the car. Ringing the doorbell was unnecessary. One of
Ronnie’s most trusted assistants had watched her approach and now let her
inside.
Alexa
gave the young woman a small smile that
felt timid and sad.

BOOK: Claiming Magique: 1
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