Dangerous Master (13 page)

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Authors: Tawny Taylor

Tags: #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Dangerous Master
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“You aren’t the most talkative man I’ve ever met,” she said, waiting for him to pick up his fork.
Something glimmered in his eyes. “Does that bother you?” He nodded to her plate. “Please. Eat.”
She took a taste of something salty, garlicky. It was delicious. “Maybe it makes me feel a little uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess I feel compelled to fill the silence.”
“There’s no need for that. Silence can be very pleasant.” As if to illustrate, he stood, walked around the table to stop directly behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and began working the knots out of her muscles. She hadn’t even realized she was so tight until he’d started rubbing.
She let her head slump forward and relished the pampering he was giving her for a few moments, until their waiter shuffled up, a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses in his hands. The waiter showed Zane the bottle, waiting for his nod before opening and pouring. He handed the first glass to Zane and let him taste before pouring a glass for Mandy. Then he disappeared again.
“Such service.” She sipped the white wine. Crisp. Sweet. Delicious.
“Yes. That’s one of the reasons why I like to come here. I’m never disappointed.” After taking a drink, he lifted his glass. “What do you think?”
“It’s very good. The perfect complement to the appetizer.”
“I agree.” He took a few swallows.
She didn’t point out the fact that he hadn’t yet taken a bite of the appetizers. After eating a few more bites, Mandy asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I handle a few investments for some close friends. And I own some property.”
Translation: he didn’t work.
She was so out of her league here. She was a working girl, like just about everyone she knew. Zane was ... insanely wealthy and probably hadn’t worked a day in his life. With those differences in mind, it was no wonder they had a hard time finding something to talk about.
Where could this thing between them possibly go? They lived in two different worlds. Her heart sank a little.
“I see.” After swallowing some more wine, she added, “You already know what I do.”
“Yes, I do.”
She finished her appetizer in silence. Zane ate very little, if anything. The main course was brought just as Mandy was swallowing the last bite. She stared at the plate as the waiter set it before her. It looked like a lamb chop with some green beans and red potatoes. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”
The waiter swapped out the white wine for a red dinner wine.
Salivating, Mandy cut a piece of the butter-soft meat and delivered it to her mouth. It practically melted on her tongue. “Oh, this is heavenly.” Shoving aside her concerns about their differences, she enjoyed the meal. There was no sense in letting all this wonderful food go to waste.
Zane set his fork and knife down. “Something is bothering you.”
“No,” she lied. Of course, he was right; something was bothering her. But how could she explain it? How could she make him understand? After all, she didn’t have any idea where he thought this thing between them was going—outside of the dungeon. It seemed he’d be content to continue to explore that part of their relationship. And their differences in lifestyle wouldn’t get in the way once they were in the dungeon.
The waiter returned with dessert, took their plates, and hurried away.
She gave herself license to devour the decadent chocolate confection. It was sinful. By the time she’d taken the last bite, she was feeling a little better about things.
And a little bolder.
“Why did you invite me out to dinner tonight?” she asked.
Zane didn’t answer right away. He looked at her, nibbling on his lower lip for several agonizing moments. “I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Why? It’s pretty clear to me you don’t care to talk. When you take a woman out to dinner, you kind of have to talk.”
“Hmmmm.” He nodded.
That was it? Hmmmm? “Is this how you are every time you take a woman out?”
“I don’t take women ‘out.’ ”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t take women out.”
“You don’t date? You just play in dungeons?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted from women.”
“Okay. But what about the women? Didn’t any of them ever want more from you?”
He shrugged again. “No one has complained.”
“I feel sorry for you.”
Instantly, his expression changed. His eyes became cold. “Don’t.”
“Shoot. I didn’t mean to insult you. That was the wrong thing to say. What I meant to say is I feel a little sad for you, that you haven’t experienced true intimacy with anyone.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then you have been intimate with someone?”
“Yes.” He stood, walked around the table, and pulled her chair out.
More than a little aware of his nearness, Mandy stood. She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry—”
He placed his index finger on her lips, cutting off her apology. “It takes me a long time to open up. I hope you’ll be patient.” He kissed her, gently, his lips brushing back and forth across her mouth until she was a little dizzy.
“I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” He took her hand and led her out into what had become a cool, still night. The air smelled fragrant, of warm concrete and freshly mown grass. Mandy gathered her bearings as she waited at Zane’s side for his car. A true gentleman, he opened her door for her, closed it, and then went around to his seat.
Off they roared, into the night.
13
 
T
wenty minutes later, they were parked in Mandy’s apartment lot. Zane’s Lamborghini rumbled like a sleeping bear. He cut off the engine but stared straight ahead.
Something was wrong. Not forgive-me-and-be-patient wrong. Much wronger than that.
Oh, shit.
Mandy twisted the handle of her purse, wrapping it around her wrist. “Um, thanks for the dinner. It was very nice.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice was stiff. His expression was stiff, too. He finally looked at her. He opened his mouth as if to say something. No words came out.
Was he so out of his element that he really didn’t know what to say? How to act? Or was he trying to say something he knew she wouldn’t want to hear?
She blurted, “Would you—”
At the same time, he said, “I think—” He motioned to her. “Go ahead.”
Instantly, she second-guessed what she had been about to say. “I’d rather you go first.”
“Very well.” He gnawed on his lip. It was such a nice lip. She could think of much better things to do to it. She wondered if she’d be given the chance. “I think I made a mistake tonight.”
“What mistake?”
He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Shit, this is so complicated.”
“It is?” Mandy had some notion where this was heading. The truth was, she’d had some notion from the moment they’d stepped into the restaurant. Zane had been so different tonight, nothing like himself.
“I like...I was hoping. But there’s no way...” He sighed yet again. “I think it would be best if we stopped ...”
She finished for him. “If we didn’t see each other anymore?”
“Yes, that.”
Damn.
Her heart felt a little yucky. It was a blow, but not such a horrible one she wouldn’t recover. “Okay.” She opened her purse, took the envelope full of money he’d given her—minus a few twenties—and set it on the dashboard. “In that case, I insist on giving this back.”
“No.” He tried to force her to take it. “Please.”
“Absolutely not.” She made it impossible for him to force it on her, closing her purse and tucking her hands under her legs. He set the envelope on her lap, but she quickly shoved it into the glove box and yanked open the passenger side door. She scrambled out, ducking down so she could see him. “I don’t know why you insist on giving me money—guilt, maybe?—but there’s no way in hell I’ll take it.” His expression was unreadable. “Thank you anyway. For the thought. The dinner. Everything.” Turning, she slammed the door.
Giving herself a pat on the back for handling that situation with grace, she hiked up her chin and walked into her apartment.
She made it inside before the first tear fell.
Damn you for falling for yet another man who’s afraid of intimacy.
Feeling like she needed to earn the retainer Andrew Clark’s desperate wife had paid, not to mention, desperate for any distraction that would keep her from thinking about that not-so-great date with Zane, Mandy decided to stake out the Clark residence.
She’d heard nothing from Zane since that night. Not a word. And although she supposed she should be glad for that small measure of kindness, she wasn’t. She found herself jumping every time her phone rang, hoping it was him.
Four days had passed now. Four long, dull days. Empty, blah days.
How could she possibly miss him so much? She barely knew the guy.
Afraid she might go nuts sitting in a car for hours by herself tonight, she dragged Sarah along as her backup.
Some backup.
“How much longer do we have to sit here?” Sarah asked for the third time.
“We’ve only been at it for a half hour.”
“Are you sure about that? It seems like it’s been a lot longer than that. At least three hours. Maybe four.”
Mandy pointed at the clock. “See? It’s only ten. We got here at nine twenty-eight.”
“I think your clock is broken.” Sarah shoved her hand into her purse. “I’ll check my phone.” A second later, she grumbled, “Damn.”
“I thought you wanted to be a PI.”
“I thought I wanted to, too. I’m starting to think it isn’t all glamorous and exciting, like what you see on TV and in the movies.”
“I told you that.”
“I thought you were lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“To discourage me so I wouldn’t quit being your receptionist.”
“I’m not that selfish.”
“Uhn.” Sarah grimaced. “I think I’m hungry. Do you have any snacks in the trunk?”
“No.”
“Why not? If I were a PI, and I had to sit in my car staring at someone’s house night after night, I’d keep a well-stocked trunk. I’d have plenty of Doritos. Those are my favorite. And some cheese balls. And, of course, chocolate.”
“Chocolate melts in the summer.”
“Not a problem. I’d have a cooler back there, too. You know, for drinks. I could sure use a nice cold diet cola right now.”
“If you drink, you have to pee. That’s a bad thing when you’re on a stakeout.”
“Ah, I didn’t think of that. Good point.”
Mandy swallowed a chuckle. Sarah’s ramblings sure beat sitting there alone. But she did wonder how long it would be before Sarah bailed on her. It was going to happen. The only question was when.
Sarah started punching buttons on her nifty Android phone. The thing had more bells and whistles than a cruise liner. “Holy shit. I’ve got no coverage here? Just my luck.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “I was going to play a little Pac-Man. That would kill the time.”
“You’re supposed to be watching the Clark house with me. Remember?”
Scowling, Sarah poked at her phone’s keyboard some more. “Yeah. But there’s nothing going on. I think they’re in for the night.” Evidently giving up, she dropped her useless phone back into her bag. “I have an idea. How about we go check?”
“Go check?”
Sarah didn’t wait to explain; she just scrambled out of the car, leaving Mandy with no choice but to chase after her. Mandy hadn’t realized how fast Sarah could run. Evidently, Sarah’s time on her treadmill had been well spent.
Before Mandy could catch up with her, Sarah dashed around one side of the house, disappearing into inky shadows. By the time Mandy had rounded the corner, Sarah was hunched down in front of a window. From Mandy’s angle, she could tell the window looked into a dark, empty dining room.
“We need to go around to the back. I can tell there are lights on.”
“We don’t need to spy on a married couple, Sarah. We just need to catch Mr. Clark sneaking out to meet with his mistress, if he has one, which I’m still doubting.”
Sarah crept along the side of the house, staying in the shadows. “Well, at least this isn’t so boring. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something useful.”
“Like what? What kind of television shows they like to watch?”
Sarah shrugged and kept moving. She didn’t stop until they’d reached a four-foot wooden fence. She shook it.
“What are you doing?”
“It isn’t so high. And it feels pretty solid. I can climb this.”
“You could. But you’re not going to.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t need to get into the Clarks’ backyard. You’re just playing around. It’s time to leave, before Andrew catches us. Or we trip an alarm or something. People have alarms in these nice neighborhoods, you know.”
“I know. But I don’t see any floodlights or motion detectors.” Sarah pointed up, at the roofline. “I already checked.”
She pushed into a patch of shrubs planted in the corner where the house’s brown brick exterior met the wood fence. “Perfect. There’s a big green electrical box thingy back here.” A dull metallic thunk followed, and Sarah’s head popped up, above the shrubs. She swung a foot over the wood fence’s pointed planks, found her footing on a horizontal support, then followed up with the other foot. A second later, she was grinning at Mandy from the other side of the fence. “Easy peasy. Come on.”
This was the last time Mandy would bring Sarah on a stakeout.
Mandy shoved through the wall of shrubs, finding the humming green box. Getting poked from all angles by the evergreens’ branches, she stood, carefully climbed onto the wood cross board, and jumped to the ground. She stayed somewhat hunkered down as she scuttled toward Sarah.
“They’re getting snacks,” Sarah pointed out. “I’m hungry. Oh, look at that. They’re having sandwiches. I could handle a toasted ham and cheese right now.”
“If you agree to leave right now, we can head to your favorite Coney Island restaurant for a gyro.”
“Mmmm. That sounds good. Tempting.” Sarah smacked her lips. “But I’m kind of liking this PI thing now.”
“We’re not accomplishing anything. Let’s go.”
“Shhhhh.” Sarah pointed at the window. “Looks like Mrs. Clark is heading upstairs with her snack. But Mr. Clark isn’t. Maybe he’ll make his move?”
“If he leaves through the
front door,
we’ll miss him.”
“What man would be stupid enough to sneak out through the front door?”
They watched for a moment.
Andrew Clark looked back, in the direction his wife had gone. He disappeared into a room that branched off from the main kitchen/family room, returned a minute later, and headed straight toward the French doors leading out to the backyard.
Sarah inched back against the house. “See? He’s sneaking out. We can follow him.”
Holy shit, was she right?
Clark opened the door very slowly, as if he didn’t want anyone hearing it. He stepped outside, closed it. Looked left. Looked right. Thank God for the lattice privacy wall they’d nailed along one side of the wood deck, or they would’ve been caught.
He started moving in their direction.
Mandy ducked lower, inching back until her spine was pressed against the cool brick. Her shoe landed in something squishy, and just as the scent of dog shit reached her nose, a little rumbling growl cut through the dark shadows under the deck.
“Holy hell, they have a dog,” Mandy said.
The dog said, “Yap, yap, yap!”
Sarah screamed like a girl.
The dog attached its teeth to Mandy’s ankle. Mandy bit back a howl, kicked her leg like a crazy woman, and made a run for it.
Clark was on their tails. “Who’s there? Shit! Rambo! Here, boy!”
Rambo finally let go of Mandy’s ankle, after being kicked and dragged to the fence. He let them know, in no uncertain terms, what he thought of their little impromptu visit while they scrambled over the fence.
Sarah didn’t stop laughing until they’d run at least three blocks, in the opposite direction from their car. Not the least bit winded, she plunked down on the curb. “Ohmygod, that was so funny!”
“Glad.” Gasp. “You.” Gasp. “Think.” Gasp. “So.” Gasp. Grimacing, Mandy lifted her pant leg to see if she had any flesh left on her ankle. The light sucked, but from what she could see, it was more intact than she’d expected. “I am so not into animal cruelty, but damn, that hurt.”
“You kicked that little pip-squeak into tomorrow.”
“He was tearing my leg apart.”
“Let me see.” Sarah grabbed her ankle. Mandy yelped. “Hmmm. Looks like he barely scratched you.”
“I think it’s worse than that.”
Sarah stood. “What do you think, should we head back?”
“No. I’m guessing any plans Clark had for sneaking out have been summarily abandoned. And I’m not convinced he was sneaking out anyway. He was probably going out to find their little beast of a dog.”
“Can you be so sure?” Sarah started walking. “To me, he reacted a little weird when he heard Fido going nuts. Like he didn’t expect the little guy to be outside.”

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