Her fingers rose and pressed to his. “I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry.”
Abby appeared again. Cleared her throat. “Ah, it’s time.”
Great. Abby had caught her cuddling with the boss. Another faux pas, but whatever. Bree had a show to do. She pulled away from Kace. “Don’t forget to get a good seat,” she called over her shoulder.
Abby’s face was tense. “Please don’t fall,” she whispered to Bree.
Obviously, no one had faith in her. Maybe Abby or Kace should have come to watch a bit of the rehearsal. They wouldn’t have been so nervous if they had.
But she didn’t have time to think about them any longer. The lights had gone out in the club. Midnight. Showtime.
And she was the first act, the warm-up for the better performers. After pulling in a deep breath, Bree squared her shoulders. When the haunting strains of the song she’d picked out began to play, she walked forward. The aerial silks were already lowered for her. She reached up for them. They were white, a perfect contrast to her black outfit. She wrapped the silks around her forearms…and when the silks lifted, she flew into the air.
***
Remy gave a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair, the better to watch the show. “I did not expect this from her.”
Kace’s fingers tightened around the glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t look away from Bree. He couldn’t. Her body was twisting and turning as she rose and fell with the silks. Incredibly graceful and incredibly gorgeous. She moved with a fluid elegance that was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. When she dipped her body down, angling so that her legs were twisted around the silks but her head was pointing toward the ground—
“Damn, that woman is limber.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’d hate to break your face.”
Remy shut up. Smart man.
Kace kept watching the show. She was rising again, pulling herself up as if the motion was totally effortless. Then she began to spin, over and over, faster and faster, like a ballerina whipping around and around. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d just been pushing her, tossing out total bullshit when he said that she’d have to take the aerial job if she wanted to stay on at Fantasy. His intent had been to get her out of the club. Despite Bree’s story about her past, he knew the woman was FBI. Yes, she’d sounded honest, and maybe that shit had happened. He had a PI checking for a double-murder that matched the description she’d given him. But he didn’t trust Bree.
He did want her, though. More with every single moment.
She’d wound herself up in the silks. She was high above them, and his jaw clenched. When the other performer had performed a similar trick last night, he hadn’t even given it another thought. The silks had her, so she’d be safe, right?
Only…the silks seemed too thin as they held Bree. The trick far too dangerous. And when she let go, when her body began to spin as the silks unraveled and she hurtled to the floor, Kace realized that he’d leaned forward. His entire body had gone tense.
Then the silks gave a little jerk. She grabbed them, lifted herself up, and then she was surging forward as the crowd erupted into applause.
The spotlight hit her as Bree’s bare feet touched onto the floor. She let go of the silks. The light showed her gorgeous, smiling face.
Then the room plunged into darkness.
He knew she’d disappear into the darkness. The routine dictated that the aerial silk performer went to the back while the next act prepared. Kace rose to his feet.
But Remy’s hand flew out and his fingers wrapped around Kace’s wrist. “I thought you didn’t get involved with employees.”
“I’m the boss. I can make any rule I want.” Right then, every cell in his body was demanding that he get to Bree.
“You know she’s here to bring you down.”
Remy sounded legitimately concerned. He smiled. Remy had worked his way up to Kace’s inner circle. The guy wasn’t just a bodyguard. He was Kace’s right-hand. “I can let her try. And while she’s trying, we’ll have one hell of a good time.”
“Dammit, man, be careful.”
Wasn’t he always?
Remy let Kace go. As if he’d had any choice.
Kace stalked through the crowd, the other members of his security team making sure no one got in his way. He headed for the backstage area. Each of the performers had been given a small dressing room. When he reached Bree’s room, he turned to the guard who’d tailed him. A tall, wide-shouldered guy named Franco Wyels. Franco had plenty of tats and plenty of attitude. He was also one of Kace’s most loyal guards. Franco had worked with Kace for years. “Anyone tries to get inside,” Kace told him, “kick their asses.”
Franco smiled. “Consider them kicked,” he said with relish. Franco liked it when things got rough.
Kace figured if some horny bastard had just watched Bree’s show and now had plans to make a move on her, the jerk deserved an ass beating.
Of course, I’m a horny bastard, too. But he wasn’t going in there to fuck Bree. At least, he didn’t think that was the plan.
Kace didn’t knock. He owned the bar, so why knock? He headed inside, and Bree spun toward him with a gasp.
“What in the hell?” Bree demanded. “I could have been naked!”
She was far too close to that already. He grabbed a robe from the back of the door. Stalked to her. Stuffed her arms in the sleeves and—
Bree jerked away from him. “What are you doing? I can dress myself.”
She should do it. He spun so that his back was to her. “Cover up.”
There were rustles behind him. “You’re a prude.” Now she seemed surprised. “I heard a million different stories about you being a badass, but not one single story about you being—”
He turned back to face her. “I’m trying not to fuck you.”
“Well, since I haven’t offered you anything, it’s not an option.”
He sucked in a breath, but just caught her lavender scent. “No more silks.”
“Wasn’t I good enough?” There was a flicker of something in her eyes. Uncertainty?
He stepped toward her. “You were too good. Every guy in the bar is lusting after you. I had to put Franco at the door because I was afraid one of those fools would come in here, wanting more.”
Her gaze swept over him. “Hate to break it to you. One guy did come in…”
“And I want you more than all the others.” A truth that he didn’t even hesitate to give her. The way his life worked—when he saw something he wanted, he took it. And, yes, even knowing that Bree was probably working with the Feds, he still wanted her. Though he’d been trying hard not to take…
The timing was wrong. Worse than wrong. Dangerous. Because there was a twisted freak out there, killing the women that many assumed Kace had fucked. Women who all looked far too much like Bree. So, if he let the attraction between them explode…
I could be putting a target on her.
Kace squared his shoulders. “I’ll have Franco take you home.”
“You’re not still firing me?” Before he could speak, she stepped forward, closing the last bit of distance between them so that her body brushed against his. She’d put on the black robe, belted it, but it only hung to mid-thigh on her. “I just worked my ass off on the silks for you tonight! And you’re going to—”
“There won’t be another silk show until next Friday night. The performances at Fantasy are only on the weekends.” And they charged more for admission when there was a show. “If you stay, we’ll work on a practice schedule with the other performers.” He swallowed. “But you’re getting a different costume. One that covers way more.”
“Prude. I’ll wear whatever I want. For your information, this one is good for me because it lets my legs wrap around the silks better.”
Of course, that made him think of her legs wrapping around him. “I’m not a prude.” She should drop that assumption. “I just don’t like sharing.”
&nbs
p; Her eyes widened. She’d added extra make-up to her eyes before the performance. Her lashes were long, dark, and black liner had been applied to give her eyes a cat-like appearance. Her lips were red and sexy.
“I’m not yours to share.”
He’d shared her with the whole crowd that night. It had been all he could do not to punch Remy in the face. Limber. Horny sonofabitch. “There are a few things you should know about me.”
She stared at him.
“I’m possessive.” One of his worst traits. But it came from having nothing. When you grew up fighting for every single thing, you held tight to what did matter. “When I’m with a woman, it’s just me. I never share.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m jealous.” Because so much had been taken from him over the years. “I’m a possessive and jealous bastard, but I am a damn good lover.”
“Bragging—”
“I’d have you screaming in two minutes.” Not bragging. Just stating a fact. “And you’d be coming harder than you ever have before.”
Her eyes widened. “You are so full of yourself.”
He smiled at her. “I never make a promise I can’t keep.” That was also true.
She shook her head. “I don’t get you.”
No, most people didn’t. But he wasn’t done warning her. And that’s precisely what his words were—a warning. “I don’t forgive enemies. Betray me once, and you’re dead to me.”
Her breath hitched.
“I’m a terrible enemy to have.” His hand rose and curled against her cheek. “But I’m the best lover you’d ever want.”
He waited for her response. For her to tell him to screw off or—
Bree’s hand lifted and her fingers wrapped around his wrist. His heart pounded harder. His reaction to her was off the charts, and that worried him. When he wanted someone this badly…it wouldn’t end well. Couldn’t.
“I’m possessive.” She stared into his eyes. “I don’t share my lovers. And I don’t have casual sex. I tried that once. I hooked up with a stranger in a bar. Let the chemistry take over, and you know what happened?”
His jaw had clenched. Jealousy. He’d warned her—
“I found out that I’d had sex with an FBI agent.”
“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Or, even better, make the guy vanish? He’d be more than happy to do both.
She blinked at him. “Do you do that a lot? Kick ass?”
“I do whatever is necessary.” She could read between the lines there. She was undercover, the woman would know his hands were far from clean. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been clean. Probably when he’d been a kid. Before he was tried for murder. He’d been eighteen the first time he’d been dragged into a courtroom and accused of a brutal crime.
He wondered what she knew about that old case.
He’d been found not guilty, of course. In the eyes of the world, he was an innocent man.
Or not.
“I don’t want you kicking his ass,” she finally said, softly. “Grayson and I are over. Ancient history.”
The piece of history had been in her room the night before.
“I didn’t come to Fantasy because I was looking for a new lover.” Her fingers stroked inside his wrist. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel this…connection between us.”
He waited.
“I’m not here to fuck you, Kace.”
No, sweetheart, but if you’re undercover, you are definitely here to fuck me over. Yet he just smiled at her. “When you change your mind, you let me know.” Kace backed away.
Her lips parted. Those sensual, cherry red lips. “I’ve still got a job here, right? And if I keep working for you—”
“I can make my own rules. With you, I will.” Or maybe there wouldn’t be any rules. Just lots of pleasure until their world burned down around them. Only time would tell. “But you have to make the call. When you’re ready for me…” Now he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “You’ll be able to reach me anytime, day or night.” He put the phone into her hand.
“I don’t need a phone. I have a phone. I—”
“This phone reaches me, only me. Wherever I am. I don’t let just anyone know how to get in touch with me that way.”
Her fingers tightened around the phone. “Guess I’m special?”
She was.
Instead of telling her that, Kace said, “Franco is going to take you home.”
“What? No motorcycle ride with you tonight?”
Did she sound disappointed? “No, I have some…business that I must take care of.” He gave her a slow smile. “But it’s nice to know you’re already missing me.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
He headed for the door, but as Kace’s fingers reached for the knob, he stopped. Glancing back at Bree, he told her, “You were absolutely phenomenal tonight. The most graceful and beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I underestimated you. I was trying to drive you away, but you showed me that you are capable of more than I imagined.” He inclined his head. “I won’t underestimate you ever again.” He hadn’t dug deep enough into her past. The woman had skills he hadn’t expected. The silk routine had been freaking phenomenal—and a serious turn-on.
“You’d better not underestimate me. If you do, you’ll regret it.”
God, that woman… “If we do fuck, be warned, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”
“Kace?” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
“When you find something special, you do whatever it takes to hold tight to it.” He opened the door and went out to speak with Franco.
Chapter Seven
“Boss said I should come up with you.” Franco had just opened the passenger side of the SUV. He was big and intense-looking. His head was shaved and his arms sported lots of twisting tattoos.
She hopped out of the SUV, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m good. I don’t need company upstairs.”
Did his cheeks flush? “Boss wanted you safe.”
“I’m totally safe. Thanks so much for the ride.”
“I’ll wait here, until you get inside.”
“Thanks, Franco.” He was actually kind of sweet. She’d seen him talking to the other waitresses, always making sure no one was bothering them at the club. The guy was hulking and huge, but…maybe that was just all on the outside.
She hurried into the bed and breakfast. She’d managed to sneak out earlier without having to face Kelly Queen, so that was a good thing. The last thing she wanted was to piss off her temporary landlady. When she climbed up the stairs, Bree tried to keep her steps as soft as possible. Waking up the other guests in the middle of the night would hardly endear her to them.
A few moments later, she’d unlocked her door and stepped inside. She turned on her light.
And just froze. Shock consumed her as her gaze jerked to the left and to the right.
Her clothes had been cut to shreds and tossed onto the floor. Her bed—the sheets, the pillows, the mattresses—everything had been slashed. Bree rushed to the closet and yanked it open. Her laptop was gone. Her suitcase hung open, with her extra shoes tossed onto the floor of the closet.
She backed away slowly, not wanting to touch anything else in the room. There could be fingerprints inside. Grayson could get a team there to—
An engine growled outside. Bree ran to the window and yanked back the thin curtains just in time to see Franco driving away. Her heart pounded against her chest as she hurried to the small dresser against the right wall. She opened the top drawer.
Her gun was gone.
Her breathing was too rushed and hard as she pulled out her phone. Actually, Bree found herself pulling out the phone Kace had given her. Not her own phone. She wanted to call him. Wanted to let him know what had happened. He was the first person she wanted to call for help.
But the truth was…
He could have been the one to trash her place. If he
thought she was FBI like Grayson, then maybe he’d sent his men to search and trash her room while she’d been working at Fantasy. He was the suspect she was after. Coming into her room, searching for the truth…maybe he’d done it.
But I don’t think he did. And that was based off pure instinct.
She didn’t call him, though. She shoved his phone into her bag. A few moments later, she’d used her phone to call Grayson.
“Good night?” Grayson drawled. “Tell me you learned something useful—”
“My place was searched. Trashed. Looks like someone took a knife and cut up everything I own.” Her words were flat. “I need a team over here.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.” Why in the hell would she joke about something like this? “My place is—”
“Call Kace,” he ordered immediately. “The guy was alpha fucking insane for you last night. Give him a sob story. Play the victim.”
That wasn’t the response she’d expected. “Uh, I don’t think—”
“Tell him you need a place to stay. Somewhere safe. The bastard is so hot for you that he’ll probably move you right into his house.”
Okay, this call was definitely not going according to plan. “I’m not sleeping with him for the job.”
“What? No, no, don’t sleep with him. That’s not what I meant. But you can get close to him, and this is the perfect opportunity—”
“Someone trashed my room,” she angrily cut through his words. “The place looks like it was hit by someone with a whole lot of rage.” She could practically feel the fury. “We need to interview Kelly Queen and the other guests. Find out if any of them saw anything. Then we need to get a team down here to search for prints.”
“Yes, yes, we’ll do all of that. After you call Kace Quick. Play the role, Bree. Think about this! If you’re scared, if you were just a normal civilian, wouldn’t you be freaking the hell out?”
She would be freaking the hell out. I am freaking the hell out. If she wasn’t an FBI agent, she’d be calling the police, not a local club owner.
“Call him first,” Grayson urged her, voice tense. “Let the guy think you depend on him. That you need him.”