“You’re imagining it, pussycat,” he said, like every man immune to the repercussions of fucking and running.
“Did you?”
“To be honest, I didn’t notice who was even here tonight,” he said, following Tomi through one of the painted doors held open by another buff, young man in a black T-shirt and slacks. “Want me to go back and look?”
Feeling a blissful glow from his casual answer, she shook her head.
“Until you came along, I never looked or asked names,” he explained, candid and blasé. “So don’t sweat them or anyone else. But I’m a little uptight over Ganz showing up early, so if I’m inattentive, please forgive me.”
“Really, no worries. Pretend I’m not here.” How sweet he was to say what he did, even if it wasn’t true about the women; Nicole was smiling as they walked into a large room vibrating with music and the din of shouted conversation. Two walls held long, neon-lit bars manned by a couple dozen bartenders and packed with people trying to get a drink, tables crowded with guests were arranged against another wall, and the fourth was floor-to-ceiling glass fronting an artistically lit atrium with lush plants and more crowded tables. The band was rocking hard, the dance floor was a writhing mass of bodies, and the crush of beautiful people in the club was testament to the personal trainers, hairdressers, plastic surgeons, couturiers, and rich parents and/or self-made wealth that made it all possible.
Rafe leaned over enough to put his mouth near her ear so he could be heard above the music and noise. “It’s not possible to pretend you’re not here. Just holding your hand has my dick going crazy.” Then he quickly held his free hand palm out in a warding off sign to a man who pushed out of the crowd to greet them. A gesture he repeated several more times as they wove through the standing-room-only partiers.
They finally made their way to a plain black door, flanked by two of the biggest bouncers Nicole had ever seen.
While Tomi waited, Rafe greeted both the men by name, asked one of them about his recent wedding, and listened politely to the man’s enthusiastic appraisal of matrimony.
“Sounds like you found the perfect woman,” Rafe said with a smile. “Nice to hear.” Then his voice took on a measured intensity. “I’m going to try to get Ganz out of here. Bring up a few more men just in case we need them.” He turned to the door, Tomi pulled it open, and Rafe escorted Nicole through to the inner sanctum.
As the door closed behind them, an immediate hush descended. The small room was subtly lit with low-wattage track lighting bordering decorative cornices as well as some spectacular Venetian chandeliers dimmed to a soft golden luminescence. A plush reproduction of the Pazyryk carpet in russet and gold covered the floor, the walls were dark teak; there were no windows, just the single door. A short row of russet leather banquettes lined the back wall, and a half dozen tables scattered about the room were occupied. Most of the people in the room were having dinner.
“Why is he quiet?” Rafe murmured.
Tomi nodded to a banquette in the far corner. “He’s doing a line. Everyone at the table is waiting for his next harangue.”
Rafe groaned. “Too bad he’s so fucking brilliant. His path to self-destruction wouldn’t be so bloody sad.”
“But he is fucking brilliant.”
“Yeah.” Rafe took a deep breath. “Let’s go see about saving his ass.” He turned to Nicole. “Ignore anything Ganz says. He’s pretty out of it. If possible, I’m going to hand him over to Henny and Basil tonight. They can keep him company while he comes down. Don’t worry, someone else will drive him up to the house.”
“I’m not worried.”
Rafe nodded at Tomi. “After you.”
As they reached the banquette, the man sweeping a short crystal straw over a line of cocaine on the table came to the end of the white powder, jerked his head up, and inhaled sharply through his nose. Only then did he open his eyes and look up at his visitors through a curtain of black hair. Flicking his hair out of his eyes with a sweep of his arm, he smiled in a wide flash of white teeth, shot a glance at Nicole, thrust his hand up to Rafe in greeting, and said in a low rumble, “Looks like I got you out of the sack.”
“And it looks like I got to you a couple hours too late. Can you still walk?”
“Fuck, yeah.” Heaving himself to his feet, he immediately fell backward and sat down hard.
“If we could have a little privacy.” Rafe silently surveyed the ranks of druggies keeping Ganz company with cool deliberation. “Now.”
Although Rafe’s tone was extremely soft, the well-dressed entourage all lurched to their feet as if they’d been struck, and mumbling apologies they quickly cleared the table.