Chapter 6
6
Alejandro
“ I need your help.”
At those trembling words, I look up at the female hovering in the door of my office. Platinum hair pulled tightly away from her unusually pale face. Blue eyes smudged with the bruises of sleeplessness. Shanna York. Here, in my office.
Well, isn't this an interesting start to my day?
“Long trip to the ladies’ room,” I drawl as I stand and face her.
She lifts her chin—her silent way of telling me she’s not sorry she deserted me last night. I’m hardly shocked. I came on too strong again, and I’ll change my tactics. For now, I’m simply enjoying the fact she’s sought me out.
“I needed to put space between us.”
“And today you don’t? Today, I'm supposed to forget that I enjoyed a dance and a half, rather than the eight I paid for.”
“You gave that money to charity.”
“To be with you. The charity was the cherry on top.”
“You paid for the opportunity to dance with me, not seduce me.”
Why not both? But I retreat from that line of questioning. Squabbling with Shanna isn't the way to entice her to stay. Raising her hackles won’t get me the up close and very personal time I want with her.
“Perhaps I’ve succeeded, since you’re here at Sneak Peek because... What was that you said? Ah, yes. You need me.”
“No. I need your help. I'd still be avoiding you if I didn’t,” she shoots back. “I have something to show you. Please.”
Hmm. She likely choked on that word. Shanna is stubborn and tough and wears her ice like armor, and I’m intrigued to learn why. No doubt it wards off most men.
I’m made of stronger stuff.
“What can I do for you, Ms. York? Take you on a tour? We have top-notch facilities.”
Her expression softens. “It’s a beautiful place. I was expecting something…”
“Dark? Dirty? Sleazy?”
She hesitates. “Glass-and-chrome seedy, yes. This is really…warm.”
That's what attracted me to the house in the beginning. I thank god every time I set foot in the place that my business partner, Del, agreed with my choice of locations.
Its shimmering white plaster walls glow Hollywood golden when the sun sets over the hills of Los Angeles. The expansive gardens have a charming Spanish Revival feel, complete with decorative tile that rims the pool and outlines the patio steps leading to the second floor.
The bars, both indoors and outdoors, welcome guests. Converting the house into a club gave it the feel of an intimate party, rather than a bunch of strangers getting naked together. That instant comfort level is one of the reasons Del and I have been so successful since opening Sneak Peek. That and good business sense.
I shrug. “I took one look at the house and fell in love. Cary Grant built it in the 1920s. The previous owners started restoring it about ten years ago, but they ran out of money. My business partner and I spent a small fortune to buy the place and finish the renovations. I haven’t regretted it for a moment.”
Her face softens. “It’s gorgeous.”
“As are you. But, since it’s clear you’re not here for my seduction, what help do you need from me?”
Her charmed smile disappears. The tense hand-clasping returns. “My dance partner and I have a…situation. A delicate one. Kristoff comes here as a customer, right?”
“I’m not at liberty to answer that. Privacy is something we protect fiercely here at Sneak Peek. I hope you understand.”
“But that’s just it. Someone invaded his privacy. They filmed him…” She shakes her head. “I’ll show you.”
I frown as Shanna reaches into an oversized bag hanging from her slender shoulder and extracts a flash drive in a clear plastic case. She hands it to me, her expression tense.
I don’t like where this is going as I pop the device into my laptop.
Two and a half minutes later, anger boils my blood.
“Where did you get this?”
“Someone left it in my dressing room last night just before the benefit began, along with a note telling me that if we compete in the upcoming California Dance Star, this footage will be sent to all the judges.”
“And neither you nor Kristoff have any idea who sent it?”
She shakes her head. “That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you could help me figure that out. That competition means…everything to me. I’ve worked years to win this.”
As driven as she is, as ambitious as rumor paints her, I believe it. She’s changed partners three times in the last five years. One broke his leg badly skiing just before dance season began. The next was history after he dropped her during a lift—in the middle of a competition. The third? He’s a mystery. There one day, gone the next.
My mother has the pulse of all her favorite and not-so-favorite dancers. Mamá says there were rumors of a torrid—but brief—affair between her and Jonathan Smythe. I’ll get the truth eventually. Right now, I have to focus on the business at hand.
This devastating video can’t go anywhere.
I extract the flash drive, slot it back in its case, and hand it to her. “There are absolutely no still or video cameras allowed in the club. Phones, either. Period. That’s part of our strict privacy policy.”
“Which someone clearly violated.”
“Obviously. That isn't security footage. If it were, it would be black and white and from an aerial view. It certainly wouldn't be in full color and focused in tight on the action.” I rise, pace.
People pay a lot of money to enjoy themselves at the club anonymously. Often high-profile people. Stars, senators, diplomats. If that privacy is compromised and people find out… I don't want to think about what that would do to our business.
“Excuse me for a moment.” I reach for my cell phone and dial my partner.
“Del?” I ask after hearing a familiar voice rumble at the other end. “We have a situation. You need to see this.”
He’s not a morning person, but he must hear the urgency in my voice because he doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in five.”
I fetch Shanna and myself a cup of coffee, then Del saunters in, buttoning his shirt, his hair mussed and his smile sated. Damn, it’s barely past ten in the morning, but my buddy has already been getting busy.
A glance at Shanna reminds me that I haven’t been busy like that in longer than I care to admit…and I intend to topple Shanna into my bed to change that.
“What’s up?” Del's voice sounds smoky and sex-rough.
“This is Shanna York. She's a professional ballroom dancer. Shanna, meet my business partner, Del.”
Shanna holds out a prim little hand. Del, being the Frenchman he is, envelops her fingers and brings them to his mouth for a soft kiss. “ Enchanté. ”
No doubt he’s enchanted, but this isn’t a free-for-all.
“Back off,” I growl in his ear.
My friend sends me a dark-eyed glance, brow raised. He understands me perfectly, and he’s intrigued, probably because I’m never possessive. But Shanna makes me feel that way.
She snatches her hand back, and I repress a gratified smile. I can’t think of a single instance when any woman has rebuffed Del. Usually, they throw themselves at his dark stubble, wealth, and bad attitude.
“So, this is Shanna's situation…”
I clue Del in, showing him Shanna's footage. After the clip ends, Del looks every bit as pissed off as I feel.
“I want to know exactly who to beat the shit out of for violating our rules.”
“No idea off the top of your heads who might have filmed this?” Shanna sounds desperate. “I’m assuming you know exactly where this…event took place?”
“Yes,” Del and I answer in unison.
“Is it possible that, if you figure out who used the room in the last week, you can generate a list of likely suspects? I’m assuming you keep records.”
“For payment purposes, of course,” Del confirms. “But that room, it's been used at least fifty times since that recording was made.”
Shanna does the math and her jaw drops. “Ten…events in there a day?”
I shrug. “We go through a lot of sheets.”
“Precisely.” Del smirks. “It’s very popular. I’m sure Ali will be happy to give you a tour.”
I’m dying to, but business now. Pleasure…soon.
Still, my mind takes a little detour. Her shock about the room's constant use is amusing, and it's cute that, despite her own kink, she hasn’t grasped how addicting watching—and being watched—can be. Yet. I intend to introduce her to that delight.
“No, thank you,” she snaps. “I'm assuming you don't want it known that someone is sneaking into your club and recording your guests’ most private actions without their consent or knowledge.”
“Of course we don't want our guests compromised,” Del assures smoothly. “We could make a list of all the guests who have used this room in the last week, but I doubt it would help. In all honesty, I would never have believed any of our members would violate such a cardinal rule. The fee to join is steep enough to attract only the most serious. Our rules are absolute; there’s no gray. Nothing left to interpretation. Anyone who violates our policies not only has their membership revoked, but finds themselves unwelcome at similar clubs elsewhere.”
“This video feels as if you were targeted specifically,” I say. “The note was delivered to your dressing room, so close to a major competition…”
Her eyes widen. “That’s it! Do any of my competitors belong to your club?”
I exchange a glance with Del. Shanna may be onto something, and if we’re going to get to the bottom of this, I’ll need her help, too. Yes, I want her. Hell, I burn for her. But someone has violated the sanctity of my club. And I won’t stand for that.
“We can’t divulge anything about our members. But we’ll look into this. Thoroughly.” I lean forward, catching her gaze. “I promise you, we’ll find out who did this.”
She nods, tension evident in her posture. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
As she turns to leave, I can't help but add, “And Shanna? When this is all over, you still owe me six and a half dances. I intend to collect.”