Yours for the Night (22 page)

“Sir, where to?” The tinny voice came through the intercom. He didn’t know. She’d taken him completely off guard. She’d surprised him. Hell, he actually liked being surprised. “Home,” he finally said. He turned the card she’d given him to the light. Courtesans. And a San Francisco number in a cursive font. A courtesan. Wasn’t that a high-class prostitute in days of old?

Reaching in his pocket for his cell phone, he punched in the number.

“Courtesans.” A male voice, surprisingly.

“I’d like to speak to Isabel.”

“Just one moment.”

After a second or two, he heard the click of a transfer.

“Hello, this is Isabel. How may I help you?” She had a sultry, smoky voice that reminded him of Dominique’s yet didn’t strike quite the same chord in him.

“I’d like to make a date with Dominique.”

“Have you seen her before?”

“She just left me.”

There was a beat of silence. “Well, Mr. McDowell, I assume you had complete satisfaction if you’re calling so quickly.”

“This isn’t Mr. McDowell.”

The silence was longer this time. “And you are?”

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel, this sounds like a situation I need to discuss with Dominique. May I return your call in a few minutes?”

“By all means.” He disconnected, assuming the woman had caller ID. He hadn’t blocked his number.

Mr. McDowell, the short guy Dominique had walked out on, had been an arranged date. A john. A mark. Whatever. And she was an escort. A call girl. A courtesan.

The woman was a prostitute. And she’d just given him a freebie. He wasn’t averse to paying for a woman. He was just averse to paying for one he was already in lust with before he’d known there was a price to pay. Yet she’d hooked him like a slow, dumb fish who saw only the bait and snapped for it. He had to go back for more.

He just had to figure out how to do it on his terms. 138

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DOMINIQUE STARED AT HERSELF IN THE LADIES’ ROOM MIRROR. Miraculously, she’d managed to fix her makeup in the car, getting even the lip liner right on. Surprising when her hands had been quaking with orgasmic aftershocks.

Good God, she couldn’t believe she’d done it—fucked him, then Lord, given him a Courtesans card. There’d been that split second where she wanted to see him again. Wanted to date him. Man, woman, no gifts, no remuneration, just . . . a date.

But she didn’t date like that. She wanted sheiks with thirty-thousand-dollar diamonds and men like Trevor with ten thousand cash in their pockets. Cash for her.

Besides, she didn’t want to have to worry later on down the road how she’d tell Gabriel that men paid to have her. That she liked men paying to have her. Loved it.

So here she was hiding in the restroom of the Wyndham in case he decided to come looking for her. It reminded her too much of how she’d licked her wounds in the ladies’ room after encountering Edward. Her phone rang. It scared her so badly, she jumped. Thank God the stalls were empty and no one had witnessed her antics. For a second she thought it was him; he’d already called and Isabel had given him her special number. She dug in her purse, yanked out her cell. Isabel. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

She answered just before the call went to voice mail.

“Darling.” Isabel always called her “darling.” “I just got the strangest call.”

Good Lord, he’d phoned already, but she chose another interpretation. “So Trevor’s already complained to you.”

“Haven’t heard a peep from him, darling, but someone named Gabriel called, and really, inquiring minds want to know.”

“Trevor was an ass. I found Gabriel instead.”

“You ‘found’ him?”

“I—” She stopped, unsure how to explain, then decided the truth wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever done. “He picked me up. I did call and leave a message with your reception, just in case. I liked Gabriel enough to have sex with him without receiving payment.” “Like” didn’t fit. She’d done him out of desperation 139

Payback

after being trounced by Edward’s pregnant bride. Why she didn’t reveal that part of it, Dominique wasn’t quite sure. After all, it was Isabel who’d shown her that Edward wasn’t worth the pain and misery. Isabel had helped her move on—in a most unconventional manner, true, but Dominique had moved past the divorce. At least she thought she had until tonight. And presto, there was the answer. She didn’t want Isabel knowing she’d taken a big step backward.

“If he wants to have sex again, he can go through normal channels,” she finished. He was hot. She’d see him. But the next time, the necessary rules had to be between them.

“Does he understand what the normal channels are?”

“No. I didn’t fully explain. I thought I’d leave that up to you. You’re so much more diplomatic about it than I am.”

Isabel laughed. That was one of the things Dominique liked about her. Laughter came easily to Isabel, taking offense did not. They’d met at a cocktail party given by one of Dominique’s friends, one who hadn’t gossiped about her at the country club. There’d been a spark with Isabel—nothing sexual, just a general “I’d like to know this person better” sense. They’d met for a friendly lunch, and Dominique ended up pouring out her sob story. After a few such lunches, Isabel had offered her an alternative to spiraling down into bitterness and misery.

Isabel was her lifesaver and her guardian angel.

“So,” Isabel said, “you want me to give Gabriel the basic spiel about escort allowances and gifts being nice but not expected, yadda yadda.”

“He’s a big boy. I’m sure he’ll get the full gist of it from that.” Most clients did, because they only got the Courtesans number through a recommendation. No one at Courtesans talked money, because that would constitute prostitution. But there were so many ways to get the point across, and Dominique had earned the reputation of being very expensive. She chose only men willing to make it worth her while. Yes, there’d been a few times she’d gotten stiffed, so to speak. But those men were no longer allowed access to Courtesans.

“May I ask you a question, Dominique?”

“Of course.” Something tingled up her spine. Isabel was sometimes too astute.

“Why don’t you do him without the gifts if you like him?”

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At least Isabel hadn’t brought Edward into it. Dominique didn’t mind giving a straight answer. “I’m a courtesan, Isabel. I can’t go back to a normal life with a normal relationship. I like the power too much. And a man is never going to accept what I do for a living. You know it as well as I do.” She snapped her purse closed as if that solidified her decision on the matter. “He pays like everyone else does.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t work any other way.” Isabel had her own story, though Dominique only knew there was once a man. And now there was not.

“Give him the spiel, see what he says.” Dominique wanted him enough to hope he didn’t balk, but if he did, she wanted her freedom and power more.

“Fine. What’s your schedule if he wants to make a date?”

“I can make adjustments to accommodate him.”

Silence. She could hear the tick-tick of Isabel’s mind working. Dominique didn’t usually do the accommodating. But Gabriel was good at what he did. He paid attention to her body’s needs. And she liked it. Big deal. “Just give him this number. I’ll make my own arrangements.

“Will do,” Isabel finally answered.

“I’m turning the phone off, though, so just tell him to leave me a message.”

It sounded so nonchalant, as if she didn’t care one way or the other. She wanted Gabriel to wait for just a little while. Or maybe she was afraid she’d beg him to come back. “Oh, and I’m going to block Trevor’s number. I don’t know what you saw in him that you thought I’d like.”

“Trevor has special needs, and you’re so good at figuring out what a man doesn’t even know he wants and giving it to him.”

“Thanks for the compliment. But I didn’t have the patience with him.”

“I’m sorry for the mistake.” Though Isabel didn’t make many of them. The restroom door opened and a couple of ladies entered, laughing. One of them, a little tipsy, stumbled and her friend caught her. “Not to worry,”

Dominique said, “but I’ve got to go now.” She didn’t want to have to think about how to say things in code because there was an audience.

“I’ll call you when I’ve got something. Sleep tight.”

She closed the phone. The girls went into the large handicapped stall together, as if they needed help. Being that drunk, maybe they did. Dominique intended to get a room here at the Wyndham. Calling a cab now was too much hassle. She just wanted this dress off. She checked in and twenty 141

Payback

minutes later burrowed beneath the bed’s big down comforter. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was how much she wished she’d taken Gabriel’s cock in her mouth before she’d fucked him.

That was the question. Could a girl have her cake and eat it, too? Or cock, as the case may be. Could she have Gabriel and still retain her power?

MMM, YUM. SHE’D BEEN HAVING A LOVELY DREAM WHICH SOMEHOW now eluded her. Dominique snuggled among the comfy warm bedding. The morning sun streamed through the curtains she’d forgotten to close. The rain must have ended sometime in the night. She snaked a hand out from the coverlet and grabbed her phone to turn it on. Just like that. First thing. Had to check if he’d called.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She looked forward to her dates, but not a date with a particular man. She only dated men she enjoyed, so they were all pretty much equal. But here she was dialing in to find out if Gabriel had left a voice mail.

The first message. She didn’t like how marvelous it made her feel. She wasn’t a woman who got excited about a man’s call.

“Have coffee with me and we’ll talk.” Then he rolled off a number. Oh, they’d talk all right. She’d lay out her terms and he could take them or leave them. She listened again so she could write down his number. His voice was like whipped cream and chocolate. It made her warm and gooey like a teenage girl. The second message was from Isabel. Trevor begged her forgiveness. He was contrite. He didn’t know what came over him. Dominique rolled her eyes. The man just didn’t like that he couldn’t have her at any price. It offended his self-worth.

She punched in Gabriel’s number instead. It rang four times then went to voice mail. She left him a message. “Meet me at Ste vens Creek Park off Highway 280 at Foothill. Noon. Bring your hiking boots.”

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5

WITH LAST NIGHT’S RAIN, THE SIX-MILE LOOP WOULD BE MUDDY, but Dominique never missed her speed walk. She preferred a walk over the gym, especially on a day like this, when the rain had washed the smog out of the sky and the sun was blindingly bright. A speed walk was also getting one up on Gabriel Price. She wondered if he’d be able to keep pace with her. She’d made it home in a taxi, showered, put her face on, suited up, and was halfway through her stretches in the park’s lot by the time Gabriel arrived. She’d expected an expensive luxury vehicle, but he drove an ordinary SUV. When he climbed out, she realized her mistake in suggesting a workout. While hot and sexy in a tuxedo, he was devastating in runner’s pants and a longsleeved black T-shirt, every muscle defined, including the delicious package between his legs. Something about hiking boots versus dress shoes got her pulse throbbing, too.

He leaned into a stretch beside her. “You look edible.”

It was unnerving how her blood suddenly raced through her veins. The man had the ability to rob her of her very next breath. She ratcheted back and pretended his words didn’t mean a thing. “Thank you.”

She allowed him three hundred sixty seconds of stretch in different positions, admiring his taut calves, the tight thighs, and the curve of his ass as he stretched out his hamstring.

Then she was off, her arms pumping. She could walk like this for hours, a fast clip that ate up a mile in twelve minutes. He didn’t ask her to slow down, but the path was barely wide enough for the two of them, so he settled a half pace behind her. “I called your friend Isabel.”

“She told me,” she threw over her shoulder.

“She explained how this works.”