CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Am I wrong?” Camden crossed his arms. He knew he wasn’t and wondered why Esme Van Alstyn had talked in circles.
His best guesses involved Beth handicapping the conversation, though he didn’t know why.
Sex didn’t make Camden uncomfortable.
Libidos were healthy.
Desires were normal.
He didn’t knock kink or look down on vanilla.
He had rules of engagement when it came to sex and had always stuck to them.
At least, he had until he met Amelia.
Fucking the focus of his assignment should have been a complete no-go.
But reality was messy.
Their chemistry was fire.
Still, he was keenly aware that power imbalances were tricky to navigate.
He had the upper hand when it came to them.
Could Esme sense that?
“You’re not wrong,” Esme replied cryptically.
Amusement glinted in her eyes, though she held her laughter in with the practiced professional restraint of a woman who was in complete control of her emotions.
“There are many words that could be used to describe who I am and what I do. That’s one of the best.”
Amelia’s jaw hung open as the color fled from her cheeks.
It took her a century to slap her mouth shut again.
Camden couldn’t imagine the questions somersaulting through her thoughts and worried she might pass out.
Esme laughed. “I take it, Amelia, that I’ve caught you off guard.”
Her forehead scrunched.
Embarrassed confusion clouded her eyes.
She blinked as if to force professionalism into her thoughts, in which scandalous questions were taking priority.
“So… like… a madam?”
“No. This isn’t a whorehouse.”
“A Domme ?”
“It’s in the same family, but this is my profession. It’s part of how I earn a living. ‘Dominatrix’ is a better fit.”
Amelia’s color returned.
Camden was no longer worried she would pass out.
Since he had jumpstarted the meat of their conversation, he would let the two women drive its direction again.
But Amelia managed only to open her mouth and close it again, dumbstruck.
It killed him to keep his hands to himself.
If he could only squeeze her hand, that would do them both a lot of good.
“I’m—my sister—” Her head tilted.
A pink blush blossomed over her cheeks.
Given that she’d just been pale as a ghost, bright color splotched across her skin.
“I’m not sure what I should say. I—” Her hand abruptly rose with her palm up, like she was trying to halt their conversation physically.
“I don’t want to offend you, Ms. Van Alstyn.”
“Esme.”
Her hand dropped into her lap.
“I’m just struggling to wrap my head around my sister’s”—Amelia gestured toward Esme then about the room—“involvement with you.”
“Hailey and Jonathan.”
Amelia’s pink cheeks now leaned toward scarlet.
“Right… Okay. They , then. I don’t know what I’m saying, and I don’t think it’s my business to ask for clarification. So—”
She faced Camden, eyes begging for assistance.
He’d never seen someone want to disappear so badly before.
All he could do was lift his chin and silently tell her to soldier on.
Amelia refocused on Esme.
“I had no idea the CIA dabbled in…” She gestured vaguely.
“This isn’t what I thought I was here to find out. And…” She swallowed hard.
“I’m not sure how Hailey and Jonathan’s, er… private time will help me find out where Hailey is now.” Amelia squeezed her eyes shut.
“God, I don’t want her mortified when I bring her home.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Bringing her home?” Esme cocked her head.
“Beth didn’t share your end goal.”
Of course Beth hadn’t.
That explained why Esme was talking in circles.
Amelia sobered. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“To find her remains. Proof of death.”
Esme’s candor landed like a sucker punch on Amelia so hard that it sucked the air out of his lungs.
He would’ve done anything to absorb the hit, anything to lessen the emotional roller coaster that Amelia had been thrown onto without benefit of a safety harness.
Esme hadn’t spoken in an unkind manner, but she could have softened the damn blow.
“I don’t think you can help me.” Amelia popped up.
Her matter-of-fact demeanor was yet another loop of the roller coaster.
She was pulling the emergency exit switch and needed to eject.
“Cam, you ready?”
Fuck.
They had heard all that and hadn’t learned any actionable details.
Beth had sent them to Esme for a reason.
They didn’t know why.
Leaving would be shortsighted.
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t stand.
They’d already done the hard part.
Amelia had to stomach the rest of the conversation to get what she wanted.
“Cam?” she tried again.
“Give it a second.”
Amelia shot daggers at him as though he was a traitor.
“Sit.” Esme redirected Amelia into her chair with a confident wave of her wrist.
Amelia didn’t while silently pleading for him to take her side.
Camden didn’t want to tell her to stay.
He needed her to come to that realization on her own—or walk out on her own.
He couldn’t be the reason for her regret.
“You need a moment to process your thoughts,” Esme tried.
“That’s fair. Don’t make any decisions until your mind has settled.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she snapped.
“Because I don’t know what to do with any of this.”
“Then don’t make a decision until you do.”
Amelia squeezed her eyes tight.
Her lips pressed together.
She almost looked like she was screaming inwardly and settling her mind simultaneously.
Finally, she dropped onto the chair and perched on its cushion.
She released a heavy breath.
Camden hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath too.
She’d made the right decision.
All he could do was support her along this hellacious ride.
“I don’t know what to do with this,” Amelia whispered.
“I don’t know if I even believe you.”
“Understandable.” Esme steepled her fingers together.
“I can make two promises: First, I’ll be up front with you. I won’t sugarcoat conversations, but I won’t dole out more than you can handle.”
Camden bet that meant personally and professionally.
He chewed the inside of one cheek to keep his attention on the here and now and not the places he and Amelia could explore in Esme’s club.
“Second, I don’t have a reason to lie. You want to know about Hailey. I have no reason to hide the truth.”
“But if you did have a reason to lie?” Amelia’s eyebrows arched.
“You would?”
“The important point is that I don’t.”
The side of Amelia’s lip curled with disgust. “Got it. You’re unfiltered and won’t lie unless it suits you. Okay, then.”
Esme moistened her bottom lip and tempered her severe posture.
“Amelia, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you still had hope. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Again, Esme, the queen of emotionless barbs, didn’t sound as though she were trying to hurt Amelia, but her apology lacked even an ounce of compassion.
Amelia pressed fingers to her temples.
“So. Many. People. Have lied to me. I’ve been living in this nightmare, and I don’t know who to listen to or believe.”
“You believe Camden.” Esme gestured at him.
“You trust him.” Esme’s smooth voice could pull the truth from a charlatan without breaking a sweat.
“Correct?”
A pause hung in the room.
Concern suddenly needled his insides as if a porcupine had taken up residence in his chest. If Amelia didn’t agree, that would cut deeply.
He didn’t know when Amelia’s opinion of him had reached that level of importance.
Her approval was paramount.
“I do,” Amelia said quietly.
The relief was instantaneous.
Still, he gave her a quick look with as much humor as he could manage.
“Took your time on that, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
Her quiet laugh released the tension in her shoulders.
Good girl. That was a move in the right direction.
He gave a quick wink that he hoped she interpreted as a pat on the back, as reinforcement.
She could handle the conversation if she grounded herself.
Esme laser focused on him.
“Do you think she should stay?”
No dice.
Camden wasn’t going to convince her one way or the other and almost winked at Esme to keep his footing even with the Queen of the Barbs.
“Amelia should do what she’s comfortable with.”
“ Of course she should . But now that she’s here and we’ve started down this bumpy road, would she regret leaving?”
That was a slightly different question, but he liked the wording better.
It wasn’t telling her what to do but rather looking out for Amelia’s well-being.
He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Camden,” Esme continued.
“Neither of you know enough to make an informed decision. I know that. You know that. The not-knowing aside, do you think Amelia can handle whatever she learns?”
Amelia could handle anything.
From the first night they spoke, when he hadn’t been sure what threats were coming after her, he believed she’d been strong enough to survive.
Amelia would’ve said he was wrong or that she’d been strong enough only because he’d been on the phone with her.
That was total horseshit.
She could’ve done it without him.
The same went for right then.
Amelia could handle anything they would learn from Esme.
Whether or not he was by her side didn’t matter—though he absolutely would be.
“Yeah. She can handle anything if it helps find out the truth.” Camden pinned Amelia with as earnest a look as he could.
His insides hurt that she didn’t know that already.
“You can do this.”
Esme tapped and steepled her fingers together again.
“I don’t know where she is, but I can start you down the path to find answers.”
Amelia pressed her lips together.
“Why hasn’t anyone else gone down that path? The cops? The CIA?”
“You don’t know that they haven’t.” Esme’s eyebrows arched.
“I’ve talked plenty to Beth.”
Frustration boiled in Amelia’s expression.
“Then why did Beth bring me here?”
“There are many ways to solve a problem.”
Her blush returned.
“ This way feels like I’m invading a part of them they had kept secret for certain reasons. Not just because they worked for the CIA.”
“It was a job , Amelia. That’s it —though it was probably a very fun job.”
Amelia’s pink cheeks were back to their full color.
Esme shrugged. “My clientele are high-end. Hailey and Jonathan rubbed elbows—amongst other things—with the wealthy one percent.”
“I don’t think she’s ready for jokes yet,” Camden pointed out.
Esme’s lips quirked.
“Between the three of us—and a select group of others—we traded in information. In secrets. This…” She gestured to the walls around them.
“Shouldn’t be the reason you stay away.”
Amelia took a deep breath then let it out very slowly.
She mimicked Esme’s gesture.
“They worked in your sex club, and I don’t know how to handle that.”
Esme wrinkled her nose.
“‘Sex club’ sounds so seedy. Hailey and Jonathan lived a complicated cover story and absolutely enjoyed themselves while fulfilling their mission objectives.” Esme looked between him and Amelia.
“But sex is sex, my dear. It brings people closer. It can scratch an itch, uncover new needs, or fix long-buried trauma. It’s a wonder drug,” she breathed out as though imagining all the carnal possibilities.
Amen . Still, Camden’s skin flushed.
Esme scrutinized him as though keenly aware of how they’d spent the previous night, as if she knew the way Amelia had asked him to take control and how he’d promised he would take care of her.
All right. They needed to finish the conversation and be on their way.
“Now that we know the background information, what did you and Beth think we should do with that?”
Esme’s lips curled, and she dragged out her answer into a slow, sensual purr.
“Make an appearance, and infiltrate.”
“As if it’s that simple,” he volleyed.
“It is with me on your side.”
Anticipation gripped his chest, and viselike tendrils turned the tension up a notch.
“Then what’s your plan?”
“I’d thought you could be vendors.” She hummed.
“Maybe even voyeurs. But now that I’ve seen you two together, there’s a much better avenue to consider.” She analyzed them as though appraising diamonds on an auction block.
“How long have you been partners?”
His pulse picked up the pace.
“We’ve worked together for about—”
Esme flung her wrist. “Give me a little credit, won’t you?”
The air crackled.
Little sparks of invisible electricity sparked against his skin.
The hair follicles at the back of his hair line jerked to attention.
“This is my job, and I’m incredibly good at reading people.” Her assessing gaze sliced between them like a razor blade.
“You work together and fuck. That gives us a lot to work with.”
Camden laughed.
He couldn’t do anything else.
But once again, Amelia was ready to pass out.
She didn’t even bother blushing.
Esme held up a hand to head off Amelia’s panic.
“Take a breath, young lady. I won’t ask you to fuck on an altar. At least, not on day one.”
Camden needed all his resolve to keep from laughing.
Never in a million years would he have imagined that was his day job.
Until that moment, he hadn’t made up his mind about the Queen of the Barbs.
He didn’t trust her.
But he liked her. That was enough to handle whatever she threw at them.
“Well, if it’s not on day one,” Amelia muttered.
“Here.” Esme withdrew a black box from a desk drawer and set it on the empty black desk.
“I have a gift for you, since you’re being such a great sport.”
They leaned forward.
Esme opened the box with the flourish of a Vegas showgirl.
A black silk mask with long silk ties lay on a dark-purple pillow of velvet.
A long black feather rested next to the silk mask.
“Easy. Fun.”
His pulse punched as if he’d jumped onto a treadmill.
“Think of it like homework.” Esme recapped the box and gave it to him while talking to Amelia.
“Enjoy yourselves. Get comfortable with the possibilities. Maybe do a little research on your own. That will serve as an excellent introduction for what to expect at my upcoming party.”
“Are we supposed to…” Amelia gestured to the box in his hands.
“Do that at your party?”
“Not unless you want to—take a breath, Amelia. It’s a party. You can’t mess it up, and you don’t have to take off your clothes.”
“Ah,” Amelia squeaked.
“But some people won’t have on clothes?”
“If all goes according to plan.” Esme’s eyes danced.
“If you don’t like it, you can leave. You’re in control.”
“I can handle naked people,” she managed hoarsely.
“You will see so much more than skin, my dear.” Esme closed her eyes.
“Think erotic, artful decadence.” Her lips tipped up when her eyelids lifted.
“And all of it is built on trust. That’s what the three of us need.”
“Trust,” Amelia repeated, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than agreeing.
“When it comes to our partnership, always trust me .”
Camden preferred to verify before trusting, but that option wasn’t on the table.
He would trust to a certain extent.
Esme squared her shoulders.
“Ask Beth for a dress and suit for the Evening under the Stars event. She’ll make sure every detail is covered.”