When Will I See You Again (33 page)

“Raoul, it’s for you.” The bartender held out the phone.

Raoul shook his head. “I’m not here.”

“But it’s Alexx…”

“I
said
I’m not here,” Raoul raised his voice, even as he slammed a fist against the top of the bar, drawing the attention of those nearest to him, including Foster.

“Yes, boss. Sorry. I’ll tell him,” Conall muttered, carrying the cell phone back to its base. Raoul gave a wolfish grin as he glanced at the men within his line of sight, like a gourmand at a feast choosing a particularly delectable morsel to bite into. He tried not to think about the last time he’d performed this familiar ritual, and the man he barely remembered who was now dead.

He threw back his head and downed the drink in one gulp, feeling the warmth of it steal through his veins. He could do nothing about Louis’ unfortunate demise but by God, he would make sure Alexx stayed safe, and that Foster paid for what he’d done.

Rising, he swaggered toward the dance floor with an easy bravado, drawing admiring glances from the crowd that lined his path. Men of all kinds and a few women as well, they gladly offered themselves up to the crown prince of Charisma, no doubt eager to learn if it was true what was said about his werewolf’s stamina. Too bad for them, Raoul had no intention of enlightening them, at least not personally.

A dark haired man caught Raoul by the arm. “Dance with me?”

he asked hopefully. Raoul didn’t recognize him.
Must be one of the
tourists.
He looked him up and down, then shook his head and
moved on, disappointment in his wake.

Another man stepped boldly into Raoul’s path. He had wavy blond hair that just brushed his shoulders, bright blue eyes and a confident smile. It took Raoul a moment to recognize the man beneath the wig. If he hadn’t realized it was Miller, he’d never have guessed.

The newcomer laid a hand on Raoul’s arm, leaning in to him.

“Care to dance, baby?” he asked in a husky, seductive voice.

Raoul gave him a quick once-over, as if sizing him up for good measure. “We can dance,” he agreed, “but first…” He drew the blond to him and kissed him long and hard, before releasing him again, apparently satisfied with what he found. “Let’s go.”

Raoul danced ahead of his newly chosen partner, leading the way to the dance floor. He raised his hands above his head and undulated his body in a come-hither gesture that was impossible to mistake. Not bothering to look behind him to ensure he was being followed, confident in his own ability to attract, he staked out a clear spot on the dance floor, the other dancers maintaining a respectful distance for the owner of the club. He was used to that.

Those that weren’t lucky enough to be asked to dance were quick to accept the role of onlookers. Throwing himself into the driving rhythm of the music, he turned and watched the blond approach.

Miller mimicked his own movements as he took up a position opposite. Raoul took a step toward him, and the blond did the same. Soon they had closed the distance between them and were hip to hip, grinding together heatedly, to the admiring glances of those around them.

The music changed, slowing to a more languid beat. Their steps became slower and slower until they simply stood together, barely swaying. Raoul buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck, his
hands sliding over his ass, seemingly unmindful of their audience.

“Raoul!”

An angry voice rang out, managing to make itself heard over the driving thrum of the music.

“Raoul!”

The other dancers parted as a figure strode through their midst, making way for the angry redhead. He reached Raoul, who’d seemingly paid no attention to the sound of his own name, too intent on what he was doing. At least until he felt the hand that clamped tightly on his arm. He glanced down in irritation and growled, shaking the intruder off.

“Raoul, what are you doing?” Alexx asked.

“What the fuck does it look like?” Raoul gave him an insolent grin. He slid his arm about Miller’s waist and deliberately drew him closer. “Dancing. You should grab a partner and do the same.

You might enjoy it.”

“But Raoul…” Alexx protested. He reached for him once again, only to be shaken off anew. “I don’t understand. You and me. It’s you and me. Why are you doing this?”

Raoul threw back his head and laughed. “Kid, you must be exceptionally slow. There
is
no you and me. There was a night or two, but there was never anything else. Now run along like a good boy, go play with your toys. I’m looking for a man tonight.”

He turned his back on the stricken Alexx, focusing on the blond. He bent him over practically double, and laid a liplock on him that drew cries of admiration and catcalls from the bystanders.

Righting Miller, he asked, “Ready to go?”

But before he could receive a reply, he felt himself being grabbed again, and glanced down to find a teary-eyed Alexx standing between him and the blond, having interposed his body
between the two men.

“You can’t do this to me! I know you love me. You said so.”

Raoul shook his head in a pitying gesture. “You don’t understand, do you? Well, let me spell it out for you. I lied.

L.I.E.D. Lying. It’s what a man does when he wants to fuck someone. He says whatever he needs to say. Well, now you know.

I lied. You don’t mean a thing to me and never did. Go home to your dolls, little man. Playtime is over. I have a new partner now.”

He wasn’t expecting the punch. Alexx threw a hard right jab at Raoul’s jaw. Raoul clenched his fist and swung back, knocking Alexx off his feet. The other dancers had given up any pretense of doing anything other than gawking. Some shouted encouragement to Raoul, some to Alexx, while others uneasily glanced about, as if wondering where the bouncers were. Raoul turned toward the blond, and shook his head.

“Children—” he began, his words quickly interrupted as Alexx regained his feet and charged at him, catching him a glancing blow around the middle. Losing their footing, they both went down to the ground. The catcalls began in earnest, amid cries of, “Fight!

Fight! Fight!” as they began to tussle.

It was Paolo who yanked Alexx off of Raoul. Lifting him easily, he held him up off the ground as the Alexx struggled against his grip. “Let me go, let me go!” he cried. “I have to talk to him.”

Paolo tightened his grip, looking between the two men, but he held his tongue, obeying only Raoul. “Don’t let go!” he cried, rising to his elbows.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked.

Raoul felt himself being helped to his feet. He turned to thank his benefactor, only to find Foster standing there, his glance filled
with concern.

Raoul gingerly felt his mouth. He could taste blood that trickled from the corner and swiped at it with one hand. “Yeah, fine. He didn’t hurt me, naturally. But I also don’t beat up on little boys.”

“What should I do with him?” Paolo asked. “Want me to call the police?”

“No, don’t do that. Just toss him out and don’t let him back in.

Got it?”

“Got it, boss.”

“Raoul, no, please don’t…” Alexx continued to protest even as he was carried through the rubbernecking crowd. Paolo never loosened his grip or put him down. They were quickly lost to view, and Raoul turned his attention back to Foster, who looked like the damn cat that swallowed the canary.

“Some people just don’t take no for an answer, do they?” Raoul quipped.

“No, I guess they don’t.” Foster scanned the crowd around them. “Where’s your friend?”

Raoul followed his glance, but the faux blond was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged. “Easy come, easy go. There’s more where he came from.”

“That there is, my friend. That there is. I have an idea. Why don’t I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, why not. Buy me a drink in my own bar.” Raoul threw back his head and laughed. “Tell you what, let’s go up to my office. There’s something I want to talk to you about anyway.”

“There is? What did you have in mind?”

“The Lupercalia Ball.”

Raoul couldn’t help but notice that Foster’s eyes gleamed at his
words. “I’d be delighted.” Stepping closer, he linked his arm through Raoul’s. “Let’s go.”

They walked through the other dancers who, now that the show was over, had returned to their former occupations, heading toward the elevator.

Got him now.

Raoul hated what he’d just done, the vile words he’d spilled so casually. His insides were in turmoil over what he’d been forced to say, at the expression on Alexx’s face that he was responsible for.

Only the knowledge that it had all been a prearranged sham kept him from feeling worse than he did. Now he had to act as if all of it—the fight, the argument, throwing Alexx out of the club—meant nothing to him. He had to pretend to be the flippant devil-may-care Raoul Marchand who chewed men up and spit them out at his leisure, even though that Raoul had ceased to exist when Alexx Jameson had come into his life and melted his frozen heart.

And he had to act as if he didn’t want to seriously hurt Foster Levine for what he’d done and who he was—for being a cold-hearted murderous bastard with no soul. His fists were hard
pressed not to pummel his smarmy face into an unrecognizable pulp. But he managed to keep it all inside, donning the cold mask he’d cultivated a long time ago, forcing a faux smile upon his face.

He could play that game with the best of them.

By now he assumed Alexx had joined Jon and Philippe in the van and was listening in on what transpired through the medium of the wireless transmitter on Raoul’s collar. He’d told him to be sure and give him a quick shout when he joined them, just so he’d know Alexx was all right, but so far he’d heard nothing from him and put it down to the van being a hive of activity. Between the wire on himself and the bug in his office, he was sure they’d be able to nail Foster to the wall, and see that justice was served. Then he and Alexx would be free to move on and start new lives together.

The very thought made him smile.

In retrospect, perhaps that was the wrong thing to do. Just as they reached the elevator, before Raoul could press the up button, Foster surprised him. He backed him up against the wall, joining their lips with a feverish urgency that took Raoul’s breath away.

He couldn’t very well resist, much as he wanted to. Didn’t dare show his contempt for this creature and his unwanted caresses, but the bile rose in his throat at Foster’s touch and he fought hard to keep it down.

Foster grabbed Raoul’s hands and pinioned them above his head with one hand while he groped him furiously with the other, breathing in hoarse, rough gasps once he’d released Raoul’s lips from his demanding kiss.

Keep still. Don’t spook him. Don’t react.

Raoul heard Jon’s disgusted mutter in his ear. “Jesus Christ, he sounds like a damn animal.” He had to agree with his godfather’s assessment, praying that Alexx wasn’t listening, that he wouldn’t
misunderstand what was happening, although he was fairly confident he wouldn’t.

He was distracted by Foster’s hands in unaccustomed places, patting, pinching, prodding. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was being frisked. Strange foreplay.

Suddenly, Foster jerked him around, hard, pressing him flat against the wall. A growl rose unbidden to Raoul’s throat, one that he quickly squelched. He felt one of Foster’s large hands at the nape of his neck in a pincer grip, while the other pressed something metallic into his side. He realized with a start that it was a gun. Foster’s lips were just beside his ear, his breath warm and moist and thoroughly repellent.

“Let me tell you what we’re going to do, Raoul, my love.

We’re going to walk to the exit, you and me, like we’re the happiest couple in the world,” he instructed him. “Like you can’t wait to be with me and fuck my brains out. Just like any other night for the whore of Charisma. If you dare to do anything else, I’ll fucking shoot you. And in case that idea doesn’t concern you, I’ll shoot your little boyfriend, but not until I’ve had him, right before your bloody eyes.”

Foster’s voice rang inside of Raoul’s head. He noticed immediately that the background noise that had been his godfather was gone, replaced by silence. Somehow, Foster knew about the bug. How, Raoul didn’t know. But he knew, and he’d managed to remove it during his unwelcome petting session. How had he not realized the purpose behind Foster’s groping? Did that mean he’d gotten Alexx, too? More importantly, could Raoul take the chance that he hadn’t?

Damnation. He couldn’t. Not until he knew what the situation was. He had to play nice, go along with Foster’s demands, at least
until he could determine what was what. Sure, he could overpower Foster—no contest there. But he’d not do anything to jeopardize Alexx’s life. He’d rather die than lose him again.

“Nod your head to show me you understand.”

Raoul nodded.

“Good boy. You’re smarter than people give you credit for, aren’t you? Now lean back…slowly. No sudden moves, or I’ll make sure that a certain boytoy finds out just what the word gangbang really means.”

Raoul never hated anyone so much as he hated Foster Levine in that moment. But he felt helpless to do anything other than succumb, for now, and do as he was told. He relaxed his tight muscles, and slowly pushed away from the wall. Foster kept the gun trained on him with one hand, while he wound his arm over Raoul’s shoulder, clutching him in an intimate embrace, the gun pressed between them, no doubt concealed by the jacket Foster wore.