The Masseuse (8 page)

After a moment, Alec climbed the rest of the way and stepped between the redhead and me, placing his hand on the door.

“Excuse us,” he said. The woman pushed by Alec into the foyer, and he followed with a sigh.

“Hi.” My throat went dry as his chest brushed against mine, and I became acutely aware of my lack of panties, but he didn’t look down and meet my eyes. He barely acknowledged that I was there.

I knew he was working, but not even a hello?

“Max!” As her voice cracked over his name, I felt a jab of sympathy. Trembling thumbs pressed to her temples. She reminded me of a cornered animal, striking out in fear.

I took one step over the threshold, unsure if I should venture farther than the front mat.

“Charlotte,” Alec said again, placing his hand gently on the small of her back. I stiffened; the move suggested they were more than just acquaintances.

“Mr. Stein is unavailable.” Ms. Rowe strode into the room, heels clicking across the marble floor. She was wearing a charcoal blouse and high-waisted black slacks, and held a cell phone in one hand.

“Jesus,” said the redhead. “Who’s he fucking now?”

“Not me,” I muttered.

Ms. Rowe’s gaze shot in my direction. Her mouth pinched at the corners. “Ms. Rossi. I’d forgotten you would be here this afternoon.”

You just called me yesterday,
I wanted to say. It surprised me that someone who seemed as organized as she did had made a scheduling error. I focused on the $300 I’d be making from this visit, not the crazy scene unfolding before my eyes or the man who’d tormented me with his tongue, now standing five feet away and ignoring me.

“Mr. Stein had to make a last-minute trip to New York. To see his
wife
.” With that, Ms. Rowe faced Charlotte, hands placed on her hips and stance wide, as though she could stop a train just with her cold stare. I had to hand it to her; she could be quite the bulldog.

“We had business,” said Charlotte between her teeth, and I winced, remembering just what
that
entailed. “Business I’m sure he doesn’t want getting out.”

It took a concentrated effort not to let the surprise show on my face. This wasn’t my client’s house, this was the set of a soap opera. Someone was going to yell, “Cut!” any minute, right? I should have grabbed some popcorn.

It occurred to me that Maxim Stein had flown to New York for damage control. He must have sensed that his mistress was about to expose their affair.

“Be careful making statements like that,” Ms. Rowe warned her.

Alec leaned close and whispered something in Charlotte’s ear. Her eyes lowered. My hands clenched.

“We’ll have to reschedule, Ms. Rossi,” Ms. Rowe snapped. “As you can see, we’re a bit preoccupied here.”

It was clear I was being dismissed. Deflated, I took a step back, but not before I heard Alec say softly to the redhead, “Come on, Charlotte. Let me take you home.”

“I can’t go home,” she said flatly.

“Then let me buy you a drink.”

Apparently our date was off. I thought of his text from when he hadn’t shown at the restaurant:
Something came up.
Something with red hair? Jealousy wasn’t a feeling I had much experience with, but it was rearing its ugly head now. Even if he was acting this way because of his job, I didn’t appreciate the cold shoulder.

His gaze met mine, just for a second, and the chill in his eyes confirmed my suspicion. Something was going on between him and this woman, and he didn’t want me to see.

I didn’t know what it was. I told myself I didn’t need to know, because it didn’t matter. I should have trusted my instincts that he was trouble—I’d had enough of
that
to last a lifetime. Things were good right now. Uncomplicated. They needed to stay that way.

It was a shame, though. We could have had fun.

“See you around,” I offered on my way out the door. He didn’t say a word, and even though part of me wanted him to follow, I was relieved when he didn’t. I closed the door behind me, despite the urge to watch the soap opera escalate into an episode of the
Jerry Springer Show
.

As if I hadn’t had enough drama, creepy gate guard was kneeling in front of my bags when I came out on the porch. When he realized he’d been caught, he stood, and though he was only taller than me by a couple inches, he looked like some kind of body builder—too muscular in the chest, with skinny legs that didn’t fill out his pants. He wasn’t wearing his dark glasses anymore, and I could see his eyes now—clear blue like the sky—with blond, almost invisible lashes that matched his buzz cut.

“See something you want?” I asked, slamming the zipper to my duffle closed.

“That’s a loaded question.” His eyes roamed down my back and stopped on my ass. I tried to mute the sound of disgust in my throat, but was only moderately successful.

Charlotte’s voice rose within.

Creepy tilted his head toward the door. “You’re not staying to watch?”

“I think I’ve seen enough.” I bent to retrieve my table, crossing the strap over my chest. Despite his obvious strength, he made no move to help, not that I’d have wanted it anyway.

The porch boards creaked as he stepped closer.

“Oh, yeah? What did you see?” His voice was steely now, demanding.

It may have been strangely primal to know Alec had seen me walk in on Maxim Stein and his mistress, but this guy was another issue entirely. The very thought of him watching me watch others have sex made my skin crawl.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I shrugged into the strap of the duffle.

As I turned to walk away, he grabbed my wrist. Training took over, and before I took another breath, I’d twisted free and shoved him back hard.

“Whoa there,” he said, hands raised in surrender. “A little touchy, don’t you think?”

I moved closer to the stairs. “A girl’s got to be careful these days.”

“That’s very true.”

I swallowed. My body stilled, heartbeat on pause. Something about his tone, and the twitch in his thin lips made me think there was more to his offhand comment.

“Do we have a problem?” I asked, wanting him to know I wasn’t afraid. I was trained in self-defense and wasn’t a helpless little girl. Not anymore.

“Not that I know of.” He smiled. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I see.” I reached in the duffle, blindly sweeping for my Mace.

Before I had the ability to even consider blinding him with it, he turned to go, meandering down the steps toward the front gate.

“Have a good night, Anna,” he tossed over his shoulder.

What. A. Creep. I trudged down the stone path to my car. I threw my table into the trunk and my duffle into the passenger seat, and turned the key in the ignition, wondering if this fat paycheck was really worth it. There was something strange going on here. These people ranged from ice cold to crazy, with the man I still wanted right in the middle.

Maybe I wanted him, but I didn’t need him. I needed simple. I needed predictable. I needed someone I could walk away from, and even now I had a feeling Alec was not that guy.

I picked up my cell phone, scrolled through the missed calls, and hit the Send key before I could change my mind.

It rang once.

“Randall? Hi, it’s Anna. I think I will let you make it up to me. What are you doing now?”

I
met Randall at a swanky piano bar in Hyde Park near his office. Because I’d already planned on staying out with Alec, I had brought a change of clothes in the car: a red slip dress that pulled over my black camisole, and black strappy sandals. I wriggled out of my yoga pants and combed my hair before leaving the front seat, annoyed that I had chosen not to bring underwear. But, considering the circumstances, it might have been the right choice anyway. I had a shitload of sexual frustration to work out, topped off with some serious irritation. Dr. Randall was about to get lucky.

I found a seat at a tall table away from the bar and texted Amy my change of plans. Before she could shoot back a series of questions I didn’t want to answer, I slipped my phone back in my purse and got my bearings. The lighting was dim, the music elegant, and the clientele composed entirely of pastel-clad yuppies. I stuck out like a gypsy in a church with my wild black hair and red dress.

Aware of the stares I was drawing, I averted my eyes out the window. Daylight was fading and the sky had taken on an orange hue. It would have been the perfect night to sit out at a waterside restaurant like the one I’d planned on going to with Alec. I wondered if he was there right now with Charlotte, getting drinks.

Maybe I’d been too quick to judge him; I didn’t know anything about his job and what it entailed. But then I remembered the easy way his hand had found another woman’s back and how he’d completely ignored me in her presence, and I felt assured in my decision to be here.

“I’m so glad you called.”

I turned in my seat to find Randall, wearing a thin, salmon-colored sweater and khakis. He grinned, a dimple appearing on his right cheek, and tossed his head back to clear the ridiculous hair from his eyes. Okay, maybe not so ridiculous. He was fairly cute when he wasn’t being an ass.

“I’m glad I called, too,” I said.

He sat across from me. I tried to picture him without his shirt on, but I kept seeing what I’d imagined Alec’s body would look like. Rippled abs and a chiseled chest, smooth skin for my fingers to explore.

“Again, Anna, I’m sorry for the other night. It’s so not like me.”

I dismissed his guilt with a wave of my hand. I wasn’t here to start a relationship; I was here to get this itch out of my system.

I was here to stop thinking about Alec.

Which seemed a little juvenile, now that I thought about it.

“What’s on your mind?” Randall asked, making me aware of my frown.

I forced a laugh. “Nothing. I’m just hungry. It’s been a busy day.”

He hummed, tapping the menu with his thumb. “If we were in the office, I’d tell you that people typically deflect direct questions as a safety mechanism, but that deep down, they really want to tell you what’s going on.”

My smile turned genuine.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not in your office,” I said. “Because right now I just want to forget about my day, my week, and everything else, and relax. Is that all right with you?”

He nodded, looking relieved. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Absolutely.”

Drinks were martinis, and dinner consisted of portabella mushroom sliders and a teensy, tiny spinach salad. It was delicious, but not exactly filling. The conversation was fine, though, and by the second glass of wine he had me laughing about his failed kiss on our last date.

“I panicked,” he admitted. “It wasn’t my best effort. If I get another chance, I promise not to ambush you.”

“You may get another chance,” I said. So maybe Randall didn’t get my juices flowing like Alec, but that didn’t mean I felt
nothing
. He was cute, and smart, and he did have a kick-ass body.

He was quiet for a moment. “Another glass of wine?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I was already feeling pleasantly warm and tingly.

He looked at me through his overly long bangs. “Only drunk enough to sleep with me.”

I laughed as he departed to the bar to order our drinks. Taking this chance to go to the restroom, I hopped down off the stool, grabbing the back of the chair to steady myself. If I didn’t add water to my beverage list, I was going to be hating myself tomorrow.

When the room stopped tilting, I made my way to the bathroom. On the way back to my chair, I stopped at the bar to ask for a glass of water and saw Randall waiting on the other side for our drinks. He was talking to a woman in a pink fitted dress with a sweater draped over her shoulders, and he couldn’t see me behind the mirrors that adorned the center island. A bottled blonde, the woman had spent her fair share of time in a tanning bed—her skin was too orange to have been tinted by the sun. She laughed at something he said, placing her hand on top of his.

His eyes lingered on where their hands touched, and after a moment he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. A blush rose from her chest up her neck, and her smile melted. She nodded.

I hung around only a few more seconds to see him take out his cell phone and get her number. Feeling incredibly more sober, I made my way back to our table and sat down. I crossed my legs. Uncrossed them.

My date—who was supposed to be making up for being a jerk-off—was hitting on another woman no more than thirty feet away. I should have been furious. I looked down at the water the waitress brought and imagined myself throwing it in his face and then storming out. But I didn’t care enough.

Still, I couldn’t help but be annoyed. I picked up my purse, half convinced to make a silent escape, but figured I’d better tell him to go fuck himself first. I still had my pride after all.

I was just building up for my exit speech when another man took Randall’s seat directly across from me.

Not just any man. Alec.

“Nice dress,” he said curtly. “You know how I feel about you in red.”

I did know. After all, he’d stolen my red panties.

I clenched the small purse on my lap. In a tight black T-shirt and jeans, he was smoldering. The thin material stretched across his chest as he leaned back. His fists knocked on the arms of the wooden chair. I tried not to stare at the muscles of his forearms that flexed with each movement, or his dark gaze, so heated it made my skin dew and my stomach quiver.

Excitement coursed through me. He was here. He’d found me. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

And then I remembered Charlotte.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“There are a few things you should know about me.” His voice was cool and sharp as a knife. “One, I don’t share. Two, I don’t appreciate having to search for the woman I’m seeing.”

I choked. “I’m sorry, the woman you’re seeing?” I leaned over the table. “So you’re seeing me now? Not the redhead you just took home?”

He mirrored my posture, eyes boring straight through me. My mouth went dry.

“That,” he said, “was work. If you and I are . . .”

“There is no
you and I
.” I shoved back in my chair and stood up. “Especially if you stand me up or choose to ignore me when other women are around.” I didn’t care if people were staring; I was never coming back here anyway.

“Three,” he continued. “I hate being interrupted.”

I laughed coldly, stepping close enough to his seat that our knees collided. “Since you like lists so much, try this one on for size. One,” I stuck up a finger. “You don’t have to worry about sharing me, because I don’t belong to you. Two.” Another finger flew up. “I don’t know how you tracked me down, but I’m on a date. With someone else. And three, I’ll interrupt whoever I damn well please whenever I damn well want.”

I was fuming, chest rising and falling with each breath. I’d definitely gotten too close. He smelled good enough to lick, and it took everything I had not to crawl into his lap, grab handfuls of his dark, messy hair, and crush my lips against his. The colder he was, the hotter I became.

“You’re not on a date,” he said, steel flashing in his eyes.

I glanced at the bar, searching for Randall’s blond hair and ridiculous sweater, or even the girl he’d been flirting with.

“He’s gone,” Alec said. “Don’t expect him to call.”

The muscles between my shoulder blades tightened. “What did you do?”

Finally he rose, standing at least a foot taller than me.

“I told him if he was going to be a big boy, he shouldn’t play with his Barbie dolls in public. And I let him know if he tried to contact you again, I would break his fingers.”

“Who
are
you?” I said, more flattered than I cared to admit. “You can’t just go around threatening strangers.” Despite my intent, my anger was dissipating, and in its place came a wave of humiliation. It was bad enough Randall was working on his next prospect in my presence, but to have Alec witness it made it a hundred times worse.

“I can threaten whoever I damn well please whenever I damn well want.”

I gave him a nasty look.

“I had it covered,” I told him. “I didn’t need your
help
.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” I crossed my arms. “For your information, I had a whole ‘kiss my ass’ speech worked out. And I was considering kicking him under the table.” I smoothed back my hair. “In a way that would severely limit his ability to have children.”

A grin spread across Alec’s face, wiping away the irritation as if it had never been there in the first place.

“That’s my girl.”

“I’m
not
your girl.”
Simmer down, butterflies.

“We’ll see,” he said.

Cocky bastard. I smirked.

“Everything all right, Alec?” A handsome, middle-aged man in a black jacket appeared from behind me. The gold badge on his lapel stated that he was the manager.

“More than all right,” Alec responded, taking out his wallet. “Can I settle up with you, Jackson? We’re going to have to take off.”

“Of course,” said the manager. “Ms. Rossi, I hope you’ll come back and see us again.”

“Um . . .” Had I given him my name? I guess I had when I checked in. “Sure.”

I narrowed my eyes on Alec while he paid for the meal I’d shared with Randall. I was sure Randall would be offended by the gesture, which was precisely why I let it happen.

“Your pal, Jackson,” I said as the manager walked away. “Is he how you found me here?”

“Him, and the tracking device I put in your car.”

My mouth fell open. When he chuckled, I realized he was kidding and gave him a little shove. I shouldn’t have touched him; his biceps were as hard as a rock, and I couldn’t help but let my fingers linger. The man had incredible arms.

We stepped outside into the night. I breathed in the fresh ambrosia and let the humidity warm my bare legs and shoulders. A breeze made ripples in my skirt, sending cool air to other places I was bare, too.

Alec faced me, hands in his pockets, as if waiting for me to say something. I didn’t know what he expected me to say. I’d known him less than a week, and already the roller-coaster ride was giving me whiplash.

I needed to walk away. This was too much drama, and I didn’t do drama. Every time things got too complicated, I moved on, gave myself a fresh start, but I wasn’t ready to move yet. I liked it here, liked my job, liked being near Amy and Paisley. Things were good. For now.

“What’s the deal with Charlotte?” I asked, ignoring the instinct to get in my car and close this chapter.

A muscle beside his eye twitched.

“Forget it,” I said. “It’s none of my business.” I turned on my heels and began walking back toward the parking garage.

“Wait.” His hand found my shoulder and sent bolts of heat down my arm. I stopped; it was impossible to think clearly when he was touching me.

“Charlotte and the boss have a . . . complex relationship.”

“Yeah,” I said, the blush staining my cheeks. “I gathered that much. Looked like she might also have a complex relationship with you.”

My hands balled into fists as I remembered his hand on the small of her back.

His mouth twitched. His hand on my arm paused.

“She doesn’t. Not in the way you’re thinking.” He took a deep breath and his features softened. “And she won’t. It’s strictly professional.”

My eyes lowered. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it felt good for him to say so.

“What do you know about her?” he asked. His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Nothing,” I said, not seeing what this had to do with anything. “I’d never seen her before . . . well,
before
.”

His mouth pulled tighter. “She’s a little paranoid that people will figure out what she and Max are doing together. I was trying to keep you out of it today. I didn’t want her to have any reason to suspect you might have seen anything. Obviously, I didn’t do a very good job.”

“No,” I agreed. “You didn’t.”

Alec stepped closer. Now both hands were weaving through my hair.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You know,” I said, “that’s the second time a man has said that to me this week. The first one did a shitty job, and the jury’s still out on you.”

A low laugh rumbled from his perfect mouth.

“Careful, Anna,” he warned. “When you get all fired up, it’s hard for me to keep my hands off you.”

I poked him in the chest. “Behave.”

His arms lowered to my waist and pulled me closer. I gasped; his cock, hard and ready, brushed against my belly.

“I make no promises,” he said. And somehow that felt like a promise.

Though I wanted to melt into him, I placed my hands on his chest and took a step back. I appraised him as objectively as I could and came up with one answer: He was trouble.

But I couldn’t say no to him. Not until I’d broken free from whatever this hold was he had on me.

“Fine,” I conceded. “Take me somewhere to get something to eat. I’m starving.”