26. Eve
26
EVE
I t’s been five and a half years since I last stepped inside a nightclub. Everything feels strange and unfamiliar, from the faceless crowd, and the relentless indecipherable buzz of conversation, to the flashing lights and the hard beat of the music moving up from the floor and through my body, jarring my bones and accelerating my pulse rate. I feel like I’m being jolted back to life again with every pounding note.
I’m sitting at the bar between Anna and Manuel, two cocktails down and feeling the aftereffects already. It’s packed in here tonight, and my head is spinning. I have to keep shutting my eyes to ground myself, to block out the heat and intensity that is simmering all around me.
My hair is falling in a dark waterfall over my shoulders, and my eyes are ringed with smoky eye shadow. The dress Anna lent me is so fitted I had to pour myself into it earlier. It’s metallic silver, strapless, stupidly short, and it makes my cleavage look ridiculous. Dante would never approve of it. For starters, it’s not even white, and the cut is way past the point of sexy.
“Not such an angel now,” I mutter, yanking it up for the twentieth time.
“Leave it, you look gorgeous,” chides Anna, sliding another pink cocktail in my direction.
“It’s too tight. Corset tight. I feel like I’m in a Bronte novel!”
“Manuel, you’re a guy, tell Evie she looks great,” orders my friend, drawing the young Colombian into our conversation. He smiles, but he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t dare. It’s more than his life is worth to pay me a compliment. He keeps his eyes fixed on my face so that they don’t stray downward like every other man’s in the vicinity.
“Oh my God, I love this song. Let’s dance!” cries Anna, jumping up to shimmy a few steps to Calvin Harris as his latest tune starts pumping out of the speakers. Her red dress is even tighter than mine, and suddenly Manuel’s eyes are nowhere near me anymore.
“I’m in,” I say, knocking back my cocktail. I can feel the burn at the back of my throat as I drag her to the edge of the dance floor.
“You look like a queen, se?orita. His queen,” Manuel whispers as I pass. I shoot him a quick smile in gratitude. He’s the only one in this club who knows my darkest secret.
“He never leaves your side, does he?” Anna muses, throwing him a backward glance as we start to move. Manuel is standing over by the barrier, his gaze constantly flickering over the crowd.
Assessing the dangers.
Keeping me safe.
“I guess it’s a survivorship thing.” I shrug.
She mulls this over for a couple of beats. “Did you sleep with him in Africa?”
I stop dancing immediately. “Are you crazy? No way!”
“Why not?” She frowns. “He’s got that dark and mysterious thing going on, and I bet you were lonely in that place. Anyway, he’s hot!”
“Then maybe you’re dancing with the wrong person.”
“Maybe I am,” she says, smirking at me.
Laughing, I turn back to Manuel and motion for him to come and join us, and then I freeze. Right away, he’s spinning around to see what’s grabbed my attention. His gaze snaps back to me, and he’s by my side in an instant.
“What is it, se?orita?”
“I swear I just…” I trail off in bewilderment. “I must be seeing things. I knew drinking alcohol again would be a bad idea.”
It couldn’t be, could it?
But the tingle on my arms is unmistakable, and there’s a slow, steady pulse unfurling between my legs. There’s only one man in the world whose nearness can influence my body like this. There’s only one man with the same fluid-controlled movement, the same breadth of shoulder, the same tousled silky black hair that I’m constantly aching to run my fingers through. I only caught a glimpse as he made his way up to the VIP lounge, but it’s more than enough to convince me.
“Dante,” I whisper .
Manuel’s expression changes. “ Here? ” He whips around again and scans the overheated crowds.
“Heading upstairs.” I clutch his arm to steady myself.
“Are you sure?” Manuel’s eyes rake across my face, searching for traces of ambiguity or hesitation.
“I have to find him.”
“Okay, se?orita.”
There are so many questions in my head as he ushers me over to the staircase next to the bar.
What is Dante doing back in Miami?
Why didn’t he come and find me?
“You can’t go up there.” A beefy-looking guy in a cheap black suit slaps his arm across Manuel’s chest.
“Get your hands off me.” The Colombian shoves the club bouncer aside and reaches underneath the back of his shirt for his gun.
“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Anna comes rushing up to us, and Manuel drops his arm again.
“You know these people, babe?” The bouncer loses his tough-guy act immediately.
“We need to get up to the VIP area,” I tell her. “Can you help us?”
She nods. “Of course. Hey, Sammy, let my friends through, okay?”
“Sure thing, honey,” he drawls, standing to one side, as if it’s the easiest decision in the world.
“Why the VIPs?” asks Anna, as we hurry up the stairs together. “I never figured you as a fame whore.”
“I think I just saw some guy I used to work with. I need to speak with him about a job. ”
Anna buys it right away. I’m an ace at threading white lies through any sentences these days.
We reach the VIP area and scan the crowds of celebrities.
“So, what does he look like?”
“Tall, dark…”
Lethal.
Anna works at one of the hottest clubs in Miami and the clientele reflects this, but the man I’m searching for is more brutally beautiful than any of them. He’s close by. I can feel it… He just hasn’t revealed himself to me yet.
We’re starting to attract a heap of unwanted attention. One A-Lister in particular seems stupid hot for Anna.
“Hey, sexy, come and sit with me for a while,” he croons, patting the empty space on the blue couch next to him.
Manuel stiffens, and she smiles vaguely in the guy’s direction. “Not tonight, thanks. I’m good.”
He shrugs and turns back to his friends as another movie star tries his luck.
“Ugh, I am done being a sleaze magnet up here,” she hisses, dispensing with him too. “I need another drink. Give me a holler when you find him.” She turns to Manuel. “Fancy keeping me company while our girl chats business?”
“Maybe later.” He smiles, softening the blow as much as he can. “I’d like to hang out with Se?orita Eve some more first.”
“You know, you don’t have to keep calling her that,” she says stiffly, pivoting on her heels.
I shoot Manuel a look of sympathy, but he knows his priorities. One of the most dangerous men in the world has entrusted him to keep his woman, his angel , safe. There’s no way in hell he’s going to screw it up by having a flirt-a-thon with her best friend.
I scan the crowds again. A dark-haired guy keeps catching my attention. He’s older than most and attractive in a lean, mean, angular kind of a way. He’s dressed to kill in one of the sharpest midnight-blue suits I’ve ever seen, and there’s a dangerous vibe about him that reminds me of Dante.
He’s stretched out across the best couch in the VIP area with a glass of hard liquor in one hand and an equally hard-looking blonde in the other. As I watch, she kicks off her shoes and drapes a long tan leg over his crotch. Now she’s straddling him and giggling for effect.
How much does she charge, I wonder.
The whole scene changes when he catches me staring at him. The smirk dies on his lips, and he pushes the blonde off his lap. She lands on her ass with an indignant squawk, but he doesn’t seem to hear. Either that, or he doesn’t care.
He’s moving toward us. I hear Manuel curse and reach for his gun again.
“We need to go, se?orita.”
“Why, who is he?”
It’s too late. Four man-mountains have swooped in out of nowhere, positioning themselves like a wall of steel behind us and blocking our exit. I can smell their cheap aftershave. There’s a tight grip on my shoulder, and the unforgiving sensation of a gun being pressed against the hollow of my back.
The man glides to a stop in front of us and nods at his men to let me go. He makes no move to touch me. If anything, he slides his hands even deeper into his pockets. It’s as if he doesn’t trust himself and can’t face the penalty of a slip-up .
Has Dante been marking his territory again?
“Helen Of Troy, I presume,” he drawls, looking me up and down and licking his lips.
“ Excuse me?” I say, glaring at him.
“I suggest you read up on your Greek mythology, Miss Miller. I figured you’d be beautiful, but I never imagined… this .” He sweeps his eyes over me again. “Rick Sanders. We have a mutual friend in common. I’m a former business partner of his.”
“I didn’t realize he had any friends,” I say, arching my eyebrows at him.
Rick laughs. “Not many, and their numbers have certainly dwindled in recent months.”
“ Former business partner?” I say, pouncing on the word. Is this man working for Emilio now?
“Not much escapes you, I see. He told me you were smart. I used to run the operational side of his business in Florida.”
“Traitor,” mutters Manuel.
Rick turns to my bodyguard. “I assure you I am no traitor. Not to Dante Santiago. I’m perfectly content with all four of my limbs.” His lips curve again as he removes his hand from his pocket and extends it in his direction. “Dante speaks highly of you too, Manuel.”
The Colombian seems to swell with pride as he takes it.
“Tell me where he is, Mr. Sanders.”
Rick’s eyes flicker back to me, and I see a flash of sympathy there. “Please, join me for a drink first.” He indicates to the couch where the sulky blonde is easing her hurt pride by knocking back his champagne as fast as she can. “Beat it, darlin’,” he murmurs, and she scoops up her red heels and disappears. He sits down opposite us and clicks his fingers at the waiting staff.
“How is he?” I blurt out, desperate for crumbs of information. I can’t cope with the knowledge that he’s been so close to me tonight.
Watching.
Devouring.
Leaving.
“Better than he was.” Rick turns to address the pretty waitress who has appeared next to him. “More champagne, sweetheart. You’ll be pleased to hear that he’s acquired himself an island. I’ve just spent the last five weeks out there in his company.”
“Why did you come back?”
“Not all of us can stay celibate for that amount of time, Miss Miller. Neither can we stay committed to just one woman.” I feel those mocking eyes swirling over my face with interest. At me. The woman who has brought the great Dante Santiago to his knees. “Besides, I have other business interests that require my attention. This happens to be one of my clubs.”
“How is his shoulder?”
“Healing.”
Is he ever coming back for me?
I want to ask the question so badly, but I’m terrified of the answer. Instead, I watch Rick pour out three flutes of champagne and hand one to me.
“To Se?or Santiago,” he declares.
I return the toast and drink deeply, more out of nerves than anything else.
“What about the other problem?” asks Manuel, looking tense. Despite Rick’s charm and claims of unswerving loyalty, I can tell he’s undecided about him.
“Evading termination.” Rick leans forward to snap open the front button of his jacket. His expression doesn’t look quite so genial anymore.
“And their business?” I ask him.
“Currently being ripped apart by circling vultures. I think it’s safe to say that the Santiago reign is over. Still, between you and me, I’m not so sure Dante’s heart was in it anymore.” My head jerks up. Rick is appraising me above the rim of his flute. “I believe he’s exploring new ventures these days.”
“What sort of ventures?”
“Now, that would be telling.” He smirks and taps a long finger against the side of his glass.
Still illegal, then.
“Is he watching me, right now?”
“He’s always watching you, Eve. All angles. Twenty-four hours a day. But you knew that already.”
“Is he here in your club?”
Rick pauses a fraction too long.
“Then why won’t he see me?”
“I can’t answer that, Miss Miller.”
“Then, fuck you!” Banging my flute down on the table, I rise to my feet and walk quickly towards a black door labeled ‘private’.
“Miss Miller…Eve…stop.”
Ignoring him, I smack my palms against the door and find myself in the club’s security room. There are dozens of monitors mounted on the wall, but there’s not a single soul in here. I can still smell him, though. There’s a lingering trace of his rich aftershave.
“Damn you, Dante,” I whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“I’m sorry, Eve.” Rick appears behind me, looking sheepish.
“He told you to delay me, didn’t he? He knew I’d seen him. He needed the time to slip away. Why the hell would he do that?”
Has Dante changed his mind?
Does he ever want to see me again?
Rick shrugs. “Things are a mess for him. You know he has his reasons.”
“Yeah, he’s always got plenty of those.” I push past him and head for the stairs, with Manuel trailing close behind.
Anna catches up with us as I’m waiting in line to collect my jacket. “Hey, Evie, did you find that guy you were looking for?” She glances down and sees the cloakroom ticket in my hand. “Oh. And where do you think you’re going?”
“Turns out horseback riding is all the excitement I can handle for one day,” I say with a weary expression. “Do you hate me?”
“Nope. Not even close.” She yanks me in for a quick hug. She knows this evening has been a huge step forward for me. “I’m proud of you, even though you’re ditching me at ten p.m. on a Saturday night. You okay if I stay a little while longer? Shall I get the guys behind the bar to call you a cab?”
“Thanks, but there’s no need. I saw a couple outside already.”
“I can’t tempt you to stay with me, Manuel?” she says, turning to him next, but he shakes his head reluctantly .
Poor guy. I can sense his conflict from all the way over here.
Anna goes to say something else, and then her gaze shifts to whatever drama is going on over my left shoulder. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open to form a perfect ‘o’.
“Holy shit, Evie. You have got to get a load of this man.”
I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. I don’t even need to see Manuel take a diplomatic step away from me. That beat has exploded between my legs, and I’m quivering with lust even before the aura of his masculinity starts punching my senses like an iron fist. Once upon a time, it produced nothing but fear in me. Now, it’s a guaranteed hotline to scorching heat and promise.
“Hello, my angel,” he purrs, his voice so velvety-smooth and deadly, and so goddamn sexy I want to drop to my feet and worship it. “Have you missed me?”