“Impressive, wasn’t I? So what do you think? Or need I ask?”
“About what?”
Harley snorted. “Come on, you couldn’t take your eyes off the girl. Poor Mandy’s been gyrating on that stage up there, trying to get your attention ever since you walked in, and you haven’t even glanced in her direction.” He sighed. “But then you always did go for classy birds, didn’t you? What was that one you were going around with before you went inside? Sarah, Susan…?”
“Serena,” Luc said with extreme reluctance. He’d only thought himself in love once in his life, and it wasn’t a happy memory.
“Serena—that was it. Dumped you when you got in your spot of trouble, didn’t she? Looked a bit like this one. So what do you think?”
“She’s up to something.”
“Yeah, and it’s got nothing to do with dancing.” He paused for a moment. “We could always ask her.”
Luc tapped his fingers on the table as he considered the idea. “We could, but as you pointed out, she’s Brent’s daughter. Telling the truth is probably not on her current agenda. No, we’ll go with the original plan. I’ll offer her a job, keep her close, she’ll soon give away what she’s up to, and she may lead me to Brent.”
“Sounds good. But be careful. If Jimmy’s coming back, he’s going to want you out of the way. And this time he’ll make sure it’s permanent.”
Chapter Three
So much for the plan.
Lia felt the nausea churning in her stomach, the occasional tremor run through her body. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down.
Her dress was still gaping, and she refastened the buttons with trembling fingers.
“Don’t be such a wimp,” she muttered to herself. This was a public place, what could possibly happen? And with that thought her mind was immediately flooded with a deluge of horrible things and they all seemed not only possible, but highly probable.
She narrowly resisted the urge to bang her head on the table—she had been so stupid to think this would work. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Lia!”
Someone called her name, and she jumped. Slowly, she rose to her feet and forced herself to walk over. Harley gestured toward a seat and she sank into it gratefully; at least he didn’t expect her to take up where she left off.
“No go, darling.”
For a moment, she was engulfed in a wave of relief, quickly followed by a wave of frustration. It couldn’t be over. Perhaps she could still ask about her father. Then Harley smiled.
“How bad do you need a job?”
The smile wasn’t particularly comforting. Lia knew the sensible thing was to get out of this now, but when had sensible played any part in her decisions? All she had to say was that she didn’t need the job after all, and presumably, she could go. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but somehow she couldn’t seem to force them past her lips.
“Desperately,” she lied.
It was sort of true; she was desperate, but a job wasn’t going to help. She needed money and she needed it fast, but more money and faster than any job could provide. Finding her father was her only hope.
“Well, we do have a…”—Harley paused as if searching for the correct word—“…a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”
“A proposition?”
Harley laughed. “Nothing shady, I promise. I’ll let Luc tell you about it.”
“Luc?” she asked.
A man stepped forward from the shadows of the booth and Lia gasped. She recognized him instantly as the man she had watched on the street not twenty minutes before, and up close, it was obvious why he had caught her attention. He was very tall and lean, with midnight black hair and golden skin all wrapped up in a dark business suit, maroon-colored tie and pristine white shirt. At first sight, compared to Harley Watson, he appeared almost normal, safe. Then she looked up into the hard planes of his face and swallowed; he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with the sleek, carnal good looks of a fallen angel. A deep scar ran from his right eye down across his cheek lifting the corner of his mouth, turning his masculine beauty into something dangerous, and Lia felt the muscles in her belly clench. Then he smiled. Instantly, he looked younger, almost boyish, the dark edge gone, and warmth flooded her body.
He held out a hand and Lia took it reluctantly, almost jumping at the buzz of sensation that coursed up her arm from the point of contact. He held her gaze and she stared back mesmerized by his eyes. His appearance was all dark Mediterranean except for the eyes; they were bright, jewel green, heavy-lidded, and deceptively sleepy behind a thick fringe of black lashes. As she stared up at him, a faint hint of amusement lifted the corner of his stern, beautiful mouth. He glanced down pointedly, and Lia realized she still had hold of his hand, was actually clutching it like it was some kind of lifeline. She dropped it reluctantly.