Fallen Angels: Beguiled\Wanton\Uncovered (28 page)

Alec reached over and clasped both her hands. “Like a what, honey?”

“A bitch in heat.”

He squeezed her fingers and offered her a slight smile. “Then what would that make me, since I can't seem to think about anything other than staking a claim on you? Right now, Celia, if you asked me and meant it, I'd pull this truck over and you'd find your jeans around your ankles before you had time to blink.”

She stared at him, shocked, then she laughed. “Why, you sweet talker you.”

Alec laughed, too, though he wanted and needed her so bad he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. “I have no finesse where you're concerned, honey. You make me feel raw.”

She drew a long slow breath and stared at him. “You really are a sweet talker.”

Alec shrugged that off. “I keep telling you, Raymond was an ass. Any man who had you and didn't appreciate it is too stupid to waste breath on.”

As he finished that declaration, he pulled into a motel and parked his truck. Turning in his seat, he drew her closer and kissed her, moving so his mouth opened, his tongue immediately stroking deep. Against her lips, he whispered, “After I've had you, you won't have the energy to think of him. That's a promise. The only question now is when.”

 

T
HE MOTEL ALEC CHOSE
based on immediate vacancy was actually fairly close to her own by the way the crow flies. However, using the busy roads, it took a good twenty minutes to reach her. This concerned Alec, but Celia insisted there wasn't anything she'd need him for that couldn't wait that long. She didn't want to add to Alec's pressure, since he was actually working with her under duress.

His motel was even seedier than her own, with a horrid bathroom complete with cracked tiles and she'd be willing to bet a lack of hot water. But Alec never blinked an eye at the utilitarian setting. He stowed his few things, made a couple of quick calls, then bundled Celia back into his truck. They spent most of the morning and afternoon shopping.

By the time they were done, Alec had purchased a cell phone for her and a few other precautionary items, like pepper spray and a “screamer,” a small can that literally screamed when the nozzle was compressed. Celia tried it once, and got to see just how fast Alec could move. He had it out of her hand and was glaring at her within a heartbeat. She'd felt compelled to offer a mumbled apology, but in truth, she had to hide her smile.

Alec really didn't frighten her anymore. In fact, he almost made her feel cherished.

The precautions he took with her safety didn't feel like a lack of trust, but rather very deep concern for a woman he cared about.

She was pondering that vague possibility when Alec said, “Tell me again what my number is.”

“Alec, I have it memorized. We've been over it a dozen times.”

“Tell me anyway. I want to make damn sure that if something goes wrong, you know it by heart. You might not have time to think about it…”

She recited the number.

“Good. Now, I put the number in the memory, so all you have to do is dial 1, but—”

“Alec.” She shook her head at him. “If the number is in the memory, why did I have to learn it?”

He touched her cheek. “What if Jacobs catches on to you and takes your phone? Or what if you manage to lose it? You might have to use a pay phone. It's best to cover all the bases, babe.”

“Okay.” She no longer felt the need to fight him on every issue. Strange how sometime during their drive, her attitude had changed. Oh, she was still wary. And she didn't yet trust herself to give in to him completely. But she also wanted him, and she knew he felt the same. Only he suffered no guilt, no embarrassment at all. He'd told her that her sex drive was “healthy.”

Around him, she was in the peak of health.

“Yoo-hoo. Miss Carter?” Alec waved a hand in front of her face. “You want to join me here so we can make these plans, or do you want to stand there daydreaming?”

“You have my undivided attention, Alec.”

The look he gave her was skeptical. “Uh-huh. I could tell you were on full alert.” He leaned against the wall of her motel room and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have something sexy to wear tonight?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Make sure it's not too sexy, all right? I don't want to be forced to diffuse a riot.”

She felt her cheeks warm. Alec honestly thought she was sexy enough to turn heads, and his confidence helped shore up her own. “I'll be discreetly sexy.”

Another skeptical look, as if he didn't think such a thing was possible. “Show up on time. I'll be there around four o'clock, but you shouldn't show up until seven. I don't want anyone to think we're together in any way.”

“What should I say if someone asks me? After all, they all noticed us leaving together yesterday.”

Alec shrugged. “Say I was lousy in bed.”

Celia choked and had to turn quickly away. She paced the small confines of the room, stepping around her exercise equipment. “Maybe I'll say you bored me.”

“Whatever. But remember to pay me no mind, no matter what I do.”

That had her whipping around. “What do you plan to do?”

“Flirt. Pick up other women.”

Groping for the edge of the bed, Celia sat down. Alec came over to stand directly in front of her, which put her eye level with his zipper. He crossed his arms over his chest and growled, “You already know I don't want anyone but you, Celia. But I have to act like the average bar groupie, and that means I'll have to act drunk, obnoxious, and horny.”

Celia gulped. “Will you actually—”

“Sleep with anyone? Hell no. My health means a little more to me than that.”

She wanted to crumble in relief, but instead she pushed to her feet and tried to get Alec to back up. He didn't.

“I need to start getting ready, so you should go. I have to shower and do my hair and—”

Alec cupped her face. “I hate this. I hate letting you walk into that place and I hate knowing what all those creeps will be thinking about you.” He kissed her, gently, teasingly. “Promise me you'll be extra careful. And don't go anywhere with anyone, no matter what. If Jacobs really does know where Hannah is, we'll find her. But I don't want anything to happen to you in the process.”

Tenderness threatened to break her control. She forced a smile and voluntarily kissed him this time, just as teasing as he had been. “I promise to be careful if you do. Don't let some hussy have her way with you.”

His gaze turned hot and he stepped away from her. “These days I'm saving myself for you. And if you make me wait much longer, I swear I'm going to explode. Keep that in mind, will you?”

Then he walked out the door, checking it to make certain it had locked. Celia sank back down on the mattress. Keep it in mind? It was damn near all she could think about.

T
HE MUSIC WAS LOUD
when Celia entered the bar. Smoke hung heavy in the air and she felt the eyes of a dozen men watching her as she made her way to a bar stool.

Then she spotted Alec.

In the middle of the dance floor, moving much too slowly for the fast beat of the music, he held a woman with long pale hair and pretended to dance. One of his large hands was curved on her behind and Celia, taken aback by the scene though he'd warned her, froze to the spot.

She wanted to kill him.

Her heart seemed to leap around in her chest, her vision blurred. Then Alec looked up at her, grinned and winked, before releasing the woman and walking her way. He stopped in front of her, his expression arrogant, his black eyes dilated. He flicked the end of her nose in an insolent manner and bent to her ear.

“It's a game, Celia, and you're about to blow it.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.

Slouching in a booth at the back of the bar, he called for another drink, and the waitress he'd just been making love to hurried to fetch it.

Belatedly remembering herself, Celia flipped her hair behind her ear and gave him a “humph” shrug, then sat down and ordered her own beverage. Her mind was in such a turmoil, filled with images of Alec with that
other
woman, she barely heard the bartender when he leaned close and asked her if she was all right.

“Oh, don't be silly.” She gave him her most dazzling smile while fluttering a hand in dismissal. “I'm perfectly fine.”

The bartender eyed her pensively while polishing a glass. “You ask me, you looked a little poleaxed to see your beau here.”

Feigning shock, she said, “My beau?” Then with another twittering laugh: “You mean that ragtag bum? Well, I was surprised to see him here considering I'd hoped not to—ever again.” She giggled. “Sometimes loneliness can make us do the dumbest things, and going out with that one marks the top of the list.”

“Didn't work out quite as you planned, huh?”

The bartender now grinned, too, and Celia leaned closer still, pretending to share a confidence. She whispered, “He's not real bright, and he's entirely too…well…
rough.
”

“He does look like a mean hombre, at that. He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No, of course not. I didn't mean that. It's just that I couldn't get rid of him. He wanted to move in on me! I had to be almost cruel to get rid of him. I felt a little bad about it, but I can barely afford to take care of myself right now, much less someone else.”

The bartender patted her hand. “You did the right thing.”

Suddenly a new voice intruded and Celia felt every hair on her body tingle. “If you have any more problems with him, you can let me know.”

Slowly she turned, and sure enough, Mr. Jacobs had taken the seat beside her. The bartender was quick with the introductions, beaming all the while.

“Miss, this is Marc Jacobs. He owns this bar, among other things, and tends to take the safety of the female clientele real personal.”

“That I do, Wally. Especially when the lady is so lovely.” His pale blue eyes glittered at Celia, and her blush wasn't in the least feigned. The man was sizing her up, and she'd never felt so exposed, or so disgraced, in her life. She swallowed hard and thought of Alec, sitting only a short distance away.

Looking at Jacobs through her lashes, she whispered in acknowledgment, “Mr. Jacobs.”

“Marc. I insist. And you are?” He slowly took her hand from her lap and squeezed her fingers in a familiar way. Repulsed, Celia wanted to jerk back, but more than that, she wanted to find Hannah. And somehow she knew Alec was watching, that he was aware of every little movement she or Jacobs made. She wanted to prove to him that she could do this, and his nearness gave her courage and determination.

“All right, Marc.” Her smile was complimenting, teasing. “I'm Celia. Celia…” She hesitated. She didn't want to give him her actual last name in case he had her investigated. But the only other last name that came to mind was Alec's. Wincing inside at her own audacity, she said, “Celia Sharpe.”

“Celia. It's a lovely name. Would you like to join me at my table?”

Flirting, she said, “I'd dearly love to join you at your table. Thank you.”

He held her hand as she slid off the stool. Her dress, a cream-colored, silky summer shift cut low in front and back, and held up by tiny cap sleeves, smoothed over her legs as she walked. It fell narrow and straight to just below her knees and was accented by the dreaded, uncomfortable push-up bra, minimal jewelry, and strappy sandals. She caught Jacobs staring at her breasts as they made their way across the crowded floor. When she went to sit, Jacobs's hand strayed over her waist and her hip.

Celia's stomach roiled.

Seconds later a waitress delivered her drink and a fresh one for Jacobs.

“So,” he said, smiling at her with impeccable, perfect white teeth, “you're new around here, aren't you? What are you in town for?”

Trying for a look of coy bashfulness, Celia bit her lip and stared down at her hands. “Well, I suppose I wanted excitement most of all. I got really tired of hanging around my small hometown. I used to live close to my grandmother, but she passed away, and then there was really no reason for me to stay there.”

Looking falsely sympathetic, Jacobs asked, “No other relatives?”

She shook her head, then sipped at her drink. “No. I'm on my own, and that's sort of a good thing, don't you think? No responsibilities, I mean.”

“You could look at it that way.” He touched the back of her hand with one finger, a gesture meant to be sympathetic, but felt totally smarmy to Celia considering the look in his eyes. “No husband, or at least a fiancé? I would think a woman as beautiful as you would have been captured by now by some lucky man.”

Again she bit her lip. She could just imagine what his idea of
capture
entailed. “I had a few boyfriends. But they were all yokels. They had these plans of settling down and starting a family.” She was every day of twenty-six years old, but for as long as she could remember, folks had told her she looked younger. She hoped it was true, or she was about to make an awful fool of herself.

She cleared her throat and said, “I'm too young to do all that. I have tons of time to settle down after I've done all the things I'd like to do.”

Jacobs studied her, making her squirm, then he asked, “You're definitely too young. About twenty or so, right?”

She beamed at him, affecting her ditzy look. “Twenty-one, free and fully legal. Marriage should be when you're, like, thirty or something, right?”

His smile was indulgent. “Absolutely. So Celia, tell me about these things you'd like to do with your life.”

She blushed again. A pale complexion had always been the bane of her life, but now she counted herself lucky. She flipped her hair over her shoulders, shrugged and whispered, “You'll think I'm silly.”

His fingers drifted over her cheek. “Not at all.”

She drew a deep breath, more to steady her stomach than to draw forth her nerve. “Well, my grandmother used to say I was pretty enough to be a model.” She peeked up at him. “I know I'm not, but it's something I've always dreamed about. Seeing myself in a magazine. Or maybe being in commercials.” She shivered. “It would be so wonderful!”

Jacobs toyed with his glass, swirling the amber liquid around as if in deep thought, while staring at her. His stare was nothing like Alec's. It unnerved her, that much was familiar, but with Alec she felt charged and alive, with this man she felt dread and bone-deep discomfort, something very close to fear.

She sighed. “I know. Fanciful dreams. But I figured I had to at least try or I'd never be able to forgive myself. Only I didn't get much farther than this before I started to run out of money and I have no idea who to contact, or how to go about getting the attention of an agent. Tomorrow I'm going to be practical though. I'm going to find a job somewhere, save up more money, then get started again.”

“Where will you work?” he asked with concern.

Shrugging, Celia said, “At a restaurant I suppose. I've seen plenty of signs up for waitresses and they say the tips are good.”

“Oh, I've no doubt you'll make plenty in tips, but a job like that would be an insult to a woman as lovely as you.” He dragged one long finger around the rim of his glass, as if coming to a decision, then he nodded. “Would you be shocked, Celia, if I told you I was an agent?”

She opened her eyes as wide as she could get them. “You're kidding, right?”

“No.” He smiled again. “Celia, would you pose for me?”

She almost swallowed her tongue. Her pulse raced, her heart jumped. “I beg your pardon?”

His look was calculating and predatory. “Along with owning this bar, I have many connections in the fashion world. I'm actually a fairly well-known agent and I work with lots of girls. I want to see if you're comfortable showing yourself to advantage. If you are, why then, I think I may have a proposition for you.”

Since she had absolutely no intention of going anywhere alone with this man, she immediately stood and held out her arms. Smiling with false hope, she turned a pirouette and struck several provocative poses. Looking eager, she asked, “Should I stand on a table? I would you know. I desperately want a chance to prove myself.”

Jacobs laughed in genuine delight. “That won't be necessary. And besides, I think your boyfriend might object to that. He looks ready to self-destruct.”

She resisted the nearly impossible urge to look at Alec. “My boyfriend?”

Jacobs nodded to the other side of the bar. “You caught his attention with your little show and somehow I get the impression he'd like another go at you.”

Celia glanced in the direction Jacobs indicated, taking her time before finally focusing on Alec. She saw that damn waitress now perched in his lap, one of her hands under Alec's shirt, stroking his belly. Alec seemed to be giving her mouth-to-mouth.

Celia's disgust was very real. “He's a macho pig. Believe me, he's of no concern at all.”

“Excellent. I just thought it prudent to ask.”

Celia eagerly reseated herself. “So what is your proposition?”

Again, Jacobs laughed at her enthusiasm. “There's a party tonight. A lot of important people will be there. I'd like you to come.”

Her heart nearly exploded at this incredible chance to make headway. Surely Hannah would be there, and if Celia could only talk to her alone for a moment, she might be able to get the girl to go home.

Interrupting her thoughts, Jacobs reached out for her hand again. “We can leave here in an hour or so. I'll take you myself.”

She remembered her precarious position and ducked her face, moaning. “Gosh, I wish I could! This is just awful.”

His fingers tightened almost cruelly on her own. “What is it?”

Working up a tear, she said, “I can't go looking like this!” She splayed her hands over her bosom, indicating her attire. “My dress is totally inappropriate. I want to make a grand impression when I do meet someone, not have them thinking I'm a country bumpkin.”

He stared at her hands, or rather, her breasts beneath them. He licked his lips. “You're right, of course. But it's not a problem. We'll stop by your room and you can change into something a little…dressier.”

Not in this lifetime.
Shaking her head, she conjured up the most dejected look she could manage. “You don't understand. I
am
a bumpkin. I don't own anything fancy enough for an important party.”

Jacobs checked his watch, letting a little irritation show through. “The boutique owner on Fifth and Main is a friend of mine. I'll call her and tell her you're coming.”

Celia was stunned. “But I can't afford…”

Stalling her objection in midsentence, he withdrew his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills. Celia stared wide-eyed, beyond being shocked. Thumbing out a string of twenties, he rolled them and stuffed them into her hand. “Buy yourself something spectacular and sexy—Shirley will help you decide. Leave everything in her capable hands. She works with me often. And then take a cab to the party. Arriving a few minutes late will help you make an entrance. It'll intrigue certain fellows even more.”

She stared at the money in her hand. “Are you serious?”

Scribbling an address onto a napkin, Jacobs chuckled. “Absolutely. Believe me, honey, I can afford a new outfit for you, and when you get your first photo shoot, you can pay me back with interest. Agreed?”

“You…you really think there's a possibility?”

“I think it's a done deal.” He handed her the napkin. “Just tell the cabbie to deliver you to this address. The doorman will pay him. Be there by ten o'clock, and in the meantime I'll talk you up. You'll make a huge splash tonight.”