Risking It All: London Calling Book Three (7 page)

He’d locked her out.

***

Dominic strode out of the club as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. Clenching his teeth, he tried to wipe away the image of Natalie being led away by Payne. But try as he might, it lingered and coupled with the earlier impression of a formally dressed woman escorting a man upstairs from the casino.
 

Suspicion formed a tight knot in his belly. Not wanting to deal with any of it, he walked faster still. A cab came into view and he stuck out a hand, hailing it. Just before stepping inside the car, he tossed the club’s fancy bag with its three-course dinner into a bin.

No thanks.

“The Potter, Kings Road.”

His driver nodded then pulled away from the curb. Thankful for the man’s silence, Dominic settled back into his seat. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he turned it back on and checked the messages.

Three from Moneypenny.

He sighed, unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to speak to her. Hell, he missed the sharp-tongued banter as much as her incredible work pace. She tossed him a lot of flak, but at the end of the day, she performed her job very well. Besides, Dominic liked spicy sarcasm. As his success built and fortunes mounted, he could count on Moneypenny to treat him without reverence or fear.
 

He appreciated that.

Plus, it wasn’t looking like Natalie would be working as his PA anytime soon. Or ever.

After her astonishment, she received his offer with obvious scorn. Well aware how colossally he’d messed things up, it still surprised him she refused to consider the opportunity. Even coming from him, she had to know how it would benefit her, both financially and professionally.
 

He rolled his neck, staring at the passing landscape with unseeing eyes. He’d been avoiding the thought, but his assumptions looked to be way off base. Natalie didn’t seem like a low-level employee, dealing the tables.
 

For one, the croupiers, dealers, and bartending staff all dressed in black suits. Pants or pencil skirts with buttoned jackets over starched white shirts, with varying details for each position. Some of the floor staff, who Dom assumed to be managers of one kind or another, also wore suits, but in navy or charcoal. Their ties echoed the deep burgundy tones threaded in the club’s carpet and drapes.
 

Although she wore unrelenting black, Natalie’s dress was formal. It was not terribly unlike what the other woman had been wearing. The one who had led a fellow baccarat player up the winding staircase. Natalie and Payne stopped on the second floor. The other woman went up further, to at least the third floor or maybe the fourth.

What was upstairs?

He’d played very high stakes tonight, even for an exclusive casino. Yet when he asked about private gaming rooms, the croupier brushed him off. In fact, that was when the man from security removed him from the floor and took him back to the dining room.

What was upstairs?

Dominic’s thoughts raced. When he questioned the waiter about Payne, the man referred to himself and others as “regular staff.” He’d deliberately excluded Natalie from that designation. As he walked Dominic to the exit, he’d referred to her as “Ms. Enfeld.”
 

Not something a peer might say.

So what was her position at Hobart? Dominic cursed his incomplete research. He’d seen where she worked and assumed she was low-level staff, using the place as a stopgap until the heat died down from Sterling. No wonder she gave him a nasty look. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been such a careless mistake.
 

She’d make him pay for that one.

But if she wasn’t low-level staff, then what was her function? And why did Sebastian Payne hover nearby?

What the hell was up those stairs?

“We’re here, sir.”
 

Shaking himself free of his whirling thoughts, he paid the driver and stepped out of the car in front of his favorite pub. Old, dark, and dingy suited Dominic much better than antique, gilded, and exclusive.

He pulled open the door and walked inside to find the place crushed with people. It smelled of dark ales and cigarettes, even though the smoking ban had everyone outside when they needed a drag.
 

Sidling up to the bar, he ordered a Guinness. Gazing around, he made out a tiny table with one stool near the corner. Motioning to the barman, he went over to grab a seat. It would be several minutes before his beer was ready. The pint sat beneath the tap, the first pour’s dense creamy foam already separating from the black stout. Live music drifted from the back, and Dominic found himself tapping the rhythm with his foot as his tension dissolved.
 

This was his kind of place. Leaving his jacket to stake claim to the table, he walked back to the bar for his pint. Over the din of conversations and singing, he requested steak and ale pie, a British favorite of his. The bartender shouted to a nearby server and Dominic assumed his order was placed. Going back to his table, he tossed down a cardboard coaster and set down his beer.

People were practically shouting to each other in an effort to be heard. The unseen band played a lively punk rock number. Dominic allowed the noise and chaos to wash over him, absorbing the kinetic energy without bothering to try to make sense of it.
 

His dinner arrived. He cut through the flaky crust, allowing steam to escape. Relishing the cubed beef and vegetables in their savory broth brought him further peace. As delectable as he was sure the club’s dinner would have been, this was what he needed.

Taking his time, he chewed and swallowed his way through the pastry and stew, filling his stomach while emptying his head of questions and doubts. By the time he tucked the knife into his fork and rested both against his empty plate, he was clear-headed. He signaled the bartender for a cup of coffee.

It was highly unlikely Natalie was involved in any nefarious business. She was too damn smart, for one thing. With a sour taste in the back of his mouth, he admitted she also wouldn’t be easy to fool after his actions last year.

Back then she’d been utterly unsuspecting of him. When his schemes were revealed, devastation had washed over her face, stripping her of pride and confidence. He winced, remembering the moment with shame. Thanks to him, Natalie would be on her guard. Probably forever.
 

He glanced down into his stoneware mug. Dominic steeled himself before taking a healthy swallow of the dark, murky liquid. Tipping his head back, he swallowed a mouthful of the strong coffee to replace acid with sludge.
 

It did no good to remember.
 

No, his only way out of the painful past with Nat was forward. She would be cautious, suspicious of any signs of treachery or wrongdoing by those around her. Although when he’d seen her with Payne, she was relaxed and friendly.

Even affectionate, if his worst fears were correct.

Dominic’s hand tightened on the cup. That’s how she’d been with Bennett before switching her attentions to him. She never spoke of her feelings, but he couldn’t help wondering if he’d been nothing more than a deliberate distraction, a rebound affair.

He pushed back from the table. None of that mattered, as it was his own actions that forever burned his bridges. With a heavy stomach, Dominic finished his coffee and paid the bill. The least he could do was look out for her now.

As a friend.

That meant getting her away from Payne. Something about the man fired off warning bells. He could recognize when someone was hiding something. He’d done it enough himself.
 

One thing was certain; there was more to Payne than met the eye.

Rather than take another taxi, Dominic called Frank to meet him outside the pub. He saw the dark sedan pull over down the street and hurried to meet it. He was eager to get on with the night.

He opened the door himself and slid into the seat next to the man Bennett recommended to him. Dominic bit back a grin. Frank was well over sixty, had a wiry build, and a mouth like a sailor.

Best yet, he drove the streets of London like a bat straight out of hell.

“Where would you like to go, Nicky?” The dispensing of formalities had taken place between them straight away, as did joking over their bastardized names.

“Frankie, I hope you’re up for an adventure.”
 

A wheezing laugh was Frank’s reply.
 

“We’re going on reconnaissance. Take me back to Club Hobart. Park down the street a way but close enough we can see.” The old man nodded then executed a perfect 180-degree turn in the street. Dominic grabbed the overhead door loop as the car lunged down the street.

“What? You scared?” Frank spared him a lightning glance, taking in his expression and his hand on the loop.

Immediately, Dominic let go. “Don’t worry about me.” Discreetly, he wedged his elbow against the armrest to brace himself. “Have you eaten?”

Frank guffawed. “What is this, a stakeout? You want me to stop for coffee and doughnuts somewhere?”

“Fine. Have it your way, smartass. But no complaining.”

Frank let him have the last word. The car was silent as it sped toward the stately homes and buildings of Mayfair. Slowly, Dominic relaxed into his seat, hands loosely clasped in his lap. He hoped they weren’t too late.

As luck would have it, there was a parking space about twenty yards away. As impressive at parallel parking as he was at driving, Frank smoothly slotted the car between two large luxury sedans. Looking at Dom, he hovered his hand over the ignition key.

“Yeah, you can kill it. I hope we’re not here too long.”

Dominic pulled out his phone, checking the time before typing in his passcode. He’d been gone about ninety minutes. He had no way of knowing if Natalie was still on site.

He hesitated for a second then pulled the card he pocketed earlier from his inside jacket pocket. Sure enough, the dealer’s name and phone number were listed on the gold embossed cream card. He flipped it over and noticed she’d written a few words.

It was nice to meet you. Ruby.

A faint grin tilted his lips. Classy, yet confident. He tapped her cell number into his phone and waited.

She answered on the third ring, her voice low.
 

“Ruby, this is Dominic Martin. I sat at your table earlier. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re still working.” Dominic ignored a muffled snort out of Frank.

She informed him she was checking out, about to leave for the evening. Would he like to meet?

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to take a rain check on that tempting offer.” This time Frank shifted to look at him straight on before he rolled his eyes.

She murmured her understanding, so Dominic continued. “I was wondering if you could tell me if Natalie Enfeld left yet?” Ruby was quiet on the other end of the phone. Speaking quickly, he added, “You certainly don’t have to say anything if it makes you uncomfortable. But Ms. Enfeld and I had a misunderstanding earlier, and I’d like to clear it up with her.”

Another beat of silence, and then Ruby informed him that Natalie was still on the premises, but preparing to leave soon.

“Thank you, Ruby. Now, when can I take you up on your offer to meet for a drink?” She hadn’t mentioned anything about going out for a drink, just meeting up. She seemed to catch his deliberate change of her phrasing. A light chuckle echoed in his ear.

“Never mind that. I saw the way you looked at her, you know. As you were leaving.” Ruby spoke softly.
 

Dominic gripped his phone harder, pressing it against his ear.
 

“I’ve never cared to play second chair, Mr. Martin.” Ruby chuckled lightly. “I’ll bid you good night. And good luck.”

Dominic opened his mouth, but no words came. The phone clicked in his ear as Ruby ended the call.

Glancing up, Frank was wheezing with laughter again.

“You sound like a fat asthmatic, Frankie. Get a grip, man.” Frank only laughed harder until Dominic ruefully joined in. Frank reached into the side pocket of the door and tossed him a bottled water before opening one for himself.
 

“I’d love to see the day you take the fall, Nicky. You’ve had it too easy with the ladies, I can tell.” The old man’s Cockney accent was even more pronounced than usual.
 

They continued to laugh until the club’s front door opened, wiping away Dominic’s humor. Sebastian Payne braced his large hand against the door, holding it open so Natalie could precede him. Dominic gritted his teeth as they walked down the street, away from where he and Frank parked.
 

“Start the car. That’s her.”

To his credit, Frank didn’t question, only obeyed Dominic’s instructions. As the car purred to life, they both watched the other couple enter a black sport utility vehicle. Payne crossed back around the front after closing Natalie’s door. Dominic watched as he took the driver’s seat.

Before the interior light faded out, Dominic could see Natalie angle her body to face the other man. They were in obvious conversation. They continued to sit in the darkened vehicle for several minutes, but Dominic could no longer see a thing. If they didn’t get a move on soon, he’d personally be thumping on her window.

With that thought, the SUV’s headlights came on. His voice terse, Dominic ordered, “Follow them. He must be giving her a ride.”

He thought he heard Frank mumble something like,
no shit.
But Dominic’s attention was locked on the other car. Frank allowed a couple of car lengths to pass before he pulled out to follow.

They eased through the streets at a safe distance toward Kensington. Not far from the palace, the other vehicle slowed before turning in to a private driveway. They were close enough that Dominic could see Payne roll down his window and enter a passcode. The solid wooden gates opened inward as Dominic frowned. It was some sort of estate, and it looked to be aristocratic. He couldn’t imagine how Natalie could afford to live somewhere like that.