The Deception (18 page)

Music burst from speakers near the stage. Two dark-haired women materialized and climbed onto the platforms. They were clad in black, gauzy camisole tops which left nothing to the imagination. Fishnet stockings, stilettos and black thongs added to the look.

Aware of Vince’s scrutiny, Will did his best to look enthralled with the show, following the girls’ moves as they gyrated around the poles.

“See anything you like?” Vince’s low murmur was close to Will’s ear. “You just give me a nod and she’s yours.”

Will chuckled and gave Vince a conspiratorial wink. “Thanks.”

The music changed. He looked back toward the stage. The first two dancers were replaced by another couple of dark-haired women. He leaned over. “Where are all the blondes?”

Vince scowled. “Too much trouble, mate and way too expensive. The Asian stuff’s much better, trust me.”

Will mulled over the response, wondering again if there was any truth to Savannah’s allegations regarding the illegal sex slave trade. He made a mental note to follow it up with Pete in the morning.

Returning his attention to the dancers, he couldn’t help but notice one of the girls looked decidedly amateurish. She was doing her best to slide up and down the pole, but the tight, black leather skirt she wore kept getting in the way. The leather kept gripping the pole, making her descent less than elegant. In fact, the moves looked more like a bunny hop than provocative dancing.

Trying to restrain a genuine grin of amusement, he glanced at Vince, but the man’s attention had been drawn to a bouncer who was speaking to a security guard at the far end of the bar. It was the same one the barman had spoken to a few moments earlier.

Will turned back to the show and kept his comments to himself. The girl was clearly new to the scene or she would have known not to wear something so inappropriate. A leather skirt and pole-dancing was never going to work. Even he knew that.

The girl continued to battle with the stainless steel. Will felt almost sorry for her. Lifting his glass, he took another sip and his gaze swept over her face.

The ice cube in his mouth got caught in his airway. He choked and coughed and sputtered.

“Are you all right, Will?” his father asked, looking concerned.

Trying desperately to catch his breath, Will nodded a little frantically and watched in disbelief as Savannah hitched her leather skirt up to an indecent level and hoisted herself back onto the pole. Even though she wore a black wig, he had no doubt it was her.

What the hell was she doing here again?
Surely she wasn’t stupid enough to try her luck a second time? She’d been damned lucky it had been him who’d tried it on with her the last time and not some over-eager jock who refused to take no for an answer. Even with her ability to land a well-aimed kick to his balls, there was no guarantee her tactic would work a second time.

Anger erupted inside him at her foolishness. His father be damned, he had to do something to save her from herself. Leaning toward Vince, he tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Vince spun around, his face visibly relaxing as he remembered Will beside him.

“That girl over there, the one in the leather?” Will pointed in Savannah’s direction. “I’d like to get to know her a little better.” He winked. Vince’s face broke into a broad grin.

“No worries, mate. I’ll have one of the boys bring her over. You wanna room?”

Will’s gaze roamed over Savannah from head to toe with unmistakable intent. “Oh yeah, I’m going to need a room all right.”

* * *

Savannah knew the exact moment Will recognized her. She watched with a kind of morbid fascination as shock and disbelief registered on his handsome face. An involuntary thrum of nervous excitement shivered down her spine.

His narrow-eyed gaze followed her scantily clad form. Even from a distance, his anger was palpable. Her traitorous heart kicked into overdrive.

She’d spied him lounging by the bar right before her dance had started. She’d actually been shocked to see him and it wasn’t until that moment she realized she’d almost convinced herself that his earlier visit to the brothel had been nothing but a coincidence.

But there he was, larger than life, this time, sitting very companionably with none other than the despicable Vince Maranoa.

She was glad she’d taken the time to Google the drug baron. Her search had hit on a picture of him taken by a rival newspaper at a court appearance a couple of years earlier. It made recognizing him easy.

The two of them looked more than cozy. She snatched quick glances in their direction while she continued to do her best to swing around the slippery steel pole without looking utterly ridiculous. Spinning around once again, she turned and caught Will and Maranoa laughing together.

Movement at the far end of the bar snagged her attention. She stared at the man who had caught her eye. It was a security guard from the
Daily Mirror
. She swallowed a gasp of surprise and fear.

Carlo something or other was usually found standing guard in the foyer of their building. She passed him every morning on her way over to the bank of elevators. She’d never paid him much attention before, except to say good morning or remark on the weather or toss some other inane conversational titbit, but she was certain it was him talking to another staff member who had his back to her.

Perhaps he had a second job and doubled as security for the brothel? She didn’t know what the pay was like for a security guard, but she couldn’t imagine it was too generous. Most people living in Sydney needed a second income if they had a mortgage to pay and he certainly appeared well known to the man he was speaking to.

Her gaze shifted to Carlo’s companion. Something about him was familiar. His height, the way he stood, the color of his hair…

Savannah gasped.
It couldn’t be…

The man turned and her belly dropped to her feet with nauseating speed. Blood pounded in her ears.

It was Dylan.

The thought no sooner formed when Dylan ended his conversation and disappeared through the doorway that led to the bedrooms. Shock held her momentarily immobilized. She didn’t notice the bouncer who stood near the platform until he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her effortlessly down to the floor. Before she could utter a word, he leaned down and mumbled something about a patron requesting her presence. He nodded briefly in Will’s direction. Her heart plummeted.

* * *

Will glared at Savannah with barely controlled anger. She stared back at him, her green eyes blazing with shock. From the moment he realized it was her, his heart had pounded a rapid staccato against his chest. Now, as his gaze traveled over her skimpy ensemble, he struggled to remain calm.

Braless beneath the lacy black top, the shape and size of her rounded breasts was clearly visible. As she moved closer, he even made out her rosy nipples. Remembering the taste and feel of them, blood rushed to his groin. The bouncer stopped and pushed Savannah toward Will. She held his gaze. Her eyes burned with defiance.

A reluctant surge of admiration diluted his anger. Foolhardy or not, she was braver than most of the men he worked with. Turning to Maranoa, he tugged out his wallet and peeled off a couple of hundred-dollar bills, resolutely ignoring his father’s gaze.

“Put your money away,” Vince chuckled. “This one’s on the house.” When Will went to protest, Vince moved closer and put his arm around him. “What are mates for?”

Will returned the money to his wallet and turned to face Savannah. Fury reddened her cheeks. Her eyes spat fire. She stared at him with tightly compressed lips. He could tell it took all of her self-control not to snap at him, but he was grateful she still had enough sense to play along.

His admiration for her grew. It was possible she didn’t yet know he knew the truth about her occupation and he’d just been offered her services by the brothel owner himself. Will was going to enjoy watching her try and get out of this one.

Turning back to Vince, he offered him a smile of thanks. “Which room’s mine?”

“Go with—Hey, what’s your name?” Vince yelled at Savannah.

“S-Sally.” Savannah’s voice was strained. Bright red patches suffused her cheeks. She kept her eyes cast down.

Vince frowned. “Sally? You sure? I don’t—”

Will’s heart pounded. He thought fast. “I don’t give a fuck what her name is, Vince. Sally, Susie, Sonja? Who cares?”

Vince continued to eye Savannah distrustfully. Will held his breath. At last, Vince appeared satisfied.

“Yeah, well whatever your name is, take my friend here to your room and show him a good time. You understand?” Vince barked at her. He grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced it up.

Savannah gasped. She stared up at him in fear. Maranoa’s eyes narrowed with menace.

“Sally, where are you from? When did you get here?” Vince demanded. “I don’t remember seein’ you before.”

From almost beating out of his chest, Will’s heart now stopped cold. If Vince realized Savannah wasn’t one of his girls, who knew what he’d do? The situation could quickly get out of control.

Standing abruptly, Will turned to face Vince. The movement brought him face to face with his father, but it effectively blocked Savannah from Maranoa’s view.

“Vince…” He smiled lazily. “Like I said, I couldn’t care less about her name or where’s she’s from. All I want to do is fuck her. You with me?”

Vince stepped back and after a moment, his smile reappeared. “Yeah, mate, I’m with you. In fact, I might even have a go at her myself after you’re finished. Let me know when you’re through, okay?” He winked and turned back toward the bar.

Will’s stomach clenched. He felt his father’s stare all the way to his bones, but he forced himself to smile benignly at both of them before turning away to face Savannah. Her face was crimson and her eyes shot fire. To Will, she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Come on,
Sally.
” Taking her by the arm, he led her away from the bar toward the door that led to the bedrooms
.
“Let’s go find that room.”

CHAPTER 13

Savannah gritted her teeth and did her best to remain upright in her high heels as Will dragged her along behind him down the dimly lit corridor that led to the bedrooms. It was fair to say her night had taken a decided turn for the worse.

When had things gotten so out of control?
One minute, she’d been trying her best to shimmy up a goddamned slippery pole wearing a skirt that had never been made for that purpose and the next she was being manhandled by a bear and dumped unceremoniously before the man who now held her arm in a vice-like grip.

She still wasn’t sure how it had happened.

Will pulled on her arm and she cried out. “Ouch! You’re hurting me!”

He glanced back at her, a feral glint in his eye. “I’m eager to get you on your back, Red. You can’t blame a man for that, surely? You ought to take it as a compliment.” His grin was wicked.

She clenched her jaw in response and her mind worked furiously to come up with an escape plan. A door with the number eight in brass lettering suddenly appeared before them. Will shouldered it open.

Funny how he’d chosen the same room they’d been in before.
He must have remembered. She didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She didn’t know anything any more.

Her mind still reeled from her sighting of Dylan and her near-certainty that Will and perhaps even her brother were involved in the brothel’s criminal activities. She didn’t know to what extent, but there could be no mistaking how comfortable Will had appeared with Maranoa, nor the fact that her brother had left via a staff exit.

Pulling her in roughly behind him, Will closed and locked the door with a flick of his wrist before releasing her. His arrogant gaze raked over her. He started at her black wig, which had twisted so that the thick bangs now hung somewhere near her left ear. His gaze moved painstakingly over her heavily made up face, across her chest, pausing noticeably on her barely covered breasts, before continuing past the tight leather skirt that still rode ridiculously high on her thighs.

He continued his meticulous inspection. As much as she tried to will it away, a slow, painful heat spread across her cheeks. His gaze rested on her stocking-clad legs and then slid lower to the black stilettos. Despite her suspicions, she couldn’t help the traitorous reaction of her body. Liquid heat stole into her core.

He stepped closer and tilted her chin up with his index finger, forcing her to meet his molten gaze. “So, Red. We meet again.” His gaze raked over her again. “How delightful.”

Savannah took a step back, moving away from his touch. Taking a quick breath, she tried to slow the staccato beat of her heart and replied through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not delightful and once I’ve exposed you as Vince Maranoa’s side kick, I doubt you’ll find it delightful either.”

He barked a mocking laugh. His eyes glinted blue steel. “I see you’ve spoken to your editor.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, Max informed me about your little conversation. You owe me an apology. I’m here for a story and you damn well know it and from what I just saw out there, I have a doozie. The public will eat it up. It’s got all the elements—sex, drugs and celebrities. It’ll make my career and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

All signs of humor disappeared from Will’s face. “You don’t know what you saw and for a girl who claims to be a respectable journalist, you sure as hell spend a lot of time in disreputable places. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to
believe
me!” Savannah threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. She turned and moved away from him. “I
told
you I wasn’t a prostitute. It should have been enough.”

Will followed her. It wasn’t until she turned back to face him she realized he was right behind her. Her breasts brushed against his hard chest. She gasped with awareness and stumbled back in surprise…and came up short against the bed.

Her heart thumped. She was alone in a room with Will Rutledge.