A Chance in the Night (9 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Van Meter

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BOOK: A Chance in the Night
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CHAPTER TEN
C
HRISTIAN WAS STILL
playing that last moment with Skye through his head as he entered the upscale restaurant, already ten minutes late for his dinner date, but he couldn’t quite wipe away the disturbing realization that he was fighting an ever-growing attraction to her.
When he closed his eyes he saw her face, smiling with joy at her son. When he saw her favor her left side, he burned with the need to find the guy who had assaulted her and rearrange his fat face. But he didn’t want any of those things. He started off wanting to help her, pure and simple. Somehow his motivation had morphed into something deeper without his consent and he didn’t know what to do about it.

All he knew was he ought to pull back fast. He wasn’t Richard Gere and she wasn’t Julia Roberts and this sure as hell wasn’t their version of
Pretty Woman.

She hadn’t once plainly stated to him that she wanted out of the business and that single thing made him stiffen and want to take a huge step away from her. Yet, at this very moment, when he should be considering the possibilities of this evening, he was thinking of her.

Good going, Holt. Way to introduce a major wrench in the machine.
He sighed and headed in the direction of his friend.

Gage caught his eye and there was definitely irritation reflecting back at him but he didn’t call him on his tardiness, just turned and introduced him to his date for the night as well as his own.

“Irena, Madeline, this is my friend and business partner, Christian Holt.”

Christian shook hands with both ladies, surmising that the leggy brunette Madeline was Gage’s date and the less leggy and rounder brunette was Christian’s date for the evening. “So nice to meet you both,” he said politely.

His date stepped forward and linked her arm through his, clearly pleased with what she saw and Christian chuckled at her bold action. She had chutzpah that’s for sure, he noted.

“You’re adorable,” Irena declared, stopping a moment to squeeze his bicep, her voice appreciative. “And so fit! I think men should be hard and women should be soft. So we’re nearly perfect together.”

He laughed and caught Gage’s eye. “Can’t argue with that now, can I? Shall we go to our table or hit the bar first?”

“Whatever the ladies would like,” he said, his gaze devouring Madeline’s figure, not that Gage could be blamed. She sizzled in that red, form-fitting dress; hell, even Irena was eye-catching in her black dress. His date was curvy in all the right places and he wasn’t above letting his stare rove the hills and valleys but unfortunately, Irena was battling for position when Skye had already won the competition, much to his consternation.

Still, the night was young and Irena seemed the sort who liked a good time so he wasn’t about to leave early.

But even though his intentions were to have fun and forget about everything else for the moment, it was impossible to actually follow through with that plan and several times his date caught him with his focus elsewhere.

“And that was the absolute last time I shot fire out of my eyeballs,” Irena finished, laughing as he startled when he actually heard what she’d said. “Just checking to see if you’re paying attention. Where are you? Because you’re certainly not sitting here with me.”

His cheeks heated and he apologized for being rude. “I’m a bit distracted. You were saying?” he prompted, trying to make amends but she was a good sport and waved him away.

“Don’t worry about it. So how do you know Gage?” she asked, sipping at her drink and shooting a glance in Gage’s direction where he was chatting with his date.

“Ah, well, I met him when I came to New York. We were roommates for a time and became friends by default. Now we work together at Martini and we’re trying to open our own nightclub.”

“He’s a nice guy,” she admitted, almost reluctantly. Her smile brightened as she fastened on a new subject. “Want to tell me what’s on your mind? I’m a decent listener.”

He laughed. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff,” he lied. He didn’t see the point in talking to his date about another woman and honestly, he didn’t quite know his own feelings on that score, except that he was wildly drawn to Skye, so he thought it best to keep it private. But he felt it was nice of Irena to offer so he did the same. “Tell me about you,” he suggested amiably, which she did with enthusiasm.

The night wore on and it was all Christian could do to seem engaged and interested when in fact, he’d begun to wish he’d begged off. Irena chattered nonstop and when she wasn’t going on about something in her life, she was touching him. At first it was playful, but then as the drinks kept coming, she became more sexual in her advances, which was a shame because he’d felt a real friendly connection with her at the beginning of the evening.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care for aggressive women, in fact, he liked a woman who knew how to take control but Skye was in his head and therefore there was nothing going on in his pants and Irena’s attempt at changing his mind was becoming downright irritating. He caught Gage’s eyes and motioned for him to follow him to the bar.

“What do you think of Irena?” Gage asked, clearly buzzed from the shots of Jameson whiskey he’d had earlier. “She’s pretty hot, huh? I told you I wouldn’t steer you wrong. And if I’m not mistaken, she likes you. You might even get laid tonight if you play your cards right,” he said, nudging him with an elbow. “I’ll bet Irena is wild in the sack.”

“Are you sure you’re with the right date?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, nonplussed.

“All you’re doing is talking about how hot my date is when your own date is pretty good-looking, too. I just wondered…”

Gage laughed at the idea but Christian sensed a little bit of nervousness underneath the self-assured sound. “Irena is a nice girl and she’s not hard on the eyes but she’s nothing compared to Madeline. I mean, did you see those legs? They go straight up to her neck. Niiice.”

“True. But Irena…she’s got those big, plump breasts that make you want to bury your face in them. And that booty? Damn.” He was totally playing Gage. He had no more interest in Irena than Gage truly had in Madeline but it was entertaining watching Gage pretend that he was hot for the leggy one when in fact, he was eyeing her friend. He wondered if Irena knew. Hell, chances were neither of them knew how the other felt. People were surprisingly thick when it came to their own love radar. He signaled for the bartender to close his tab. “So how’d you meet Irena and Madeline?” he asked.

“I met them both at the gym. They were playing racquetball and I was waiting for the court. Well, I should say Irena was playing while Madeline was running into the walls a lot. It’s those long legs. She’s like a giraffe in an enclosed space.” He chuckled ruefully but his eyes lit up when he added about Irena, “Now that girl is like a badger. She’s vicious out there on the court. I played her once and she kicked my ass.”

Yep. Definitely had the hots for Irena. So why the subterfuge? He was mildly curious to find the answer but he was more interested in getting home so he could call Skye. Gage would have to figure out his own love life. He collected his credit card and Gage frowned in dismay. “What the hell? You’re leaving? The night’s just getting started,” he protested.

“Maybe for you, buddy. I have an early morning commitment. Tell Irena I had a great time but I have to run.”

“You tell her. You can’t just skip out on her. That’s rude,” he said.

“Here’s the deal, if I go back to our table and tell her I want to leave she’s going to try and convince me to stay and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides…I’m not sure I’m the one she wants,” he said, letting that sink in for a moment.

Gage frowned. “You think she’s a lesbian?” he asked a bit distressed, which made Christian laugh.

He clapped Gage on the shoulder. “She’s definitely not a lesbian. I think she likes you, buddy.”

“Me?” His voice strained a little but his eyes warmed too much to be faking it. “Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m only sure of death and taxes but even when her hands were on me—” Gage scowled and Christian knew his instincts weren’t off base, the guy was totally into Irena “—she was looking over at you to catch your reaction.”

And if teenage jealousy tricks didn’t say “I have the hots for you,” Christian wasn’t sure what did. Amazing how it didn’t matter how long it’d been since you were in the school yard, old habits died hard. Well, at least he’d outgrown the “hey, I like you so I’m going to pull your ponytail” courtship style. “Good luck, my friend,” he said, pocketing his credit card. “Make me look good…or bad. Whatever works for you.”

“Christian, wait—”

“Nope. It’s all you, buddy. Don’t blow it. You never know, she could be the mother of your future children.”

He caught the reflexive movement of Gage swallowing and he grinned.
Better you than me, my friend.

Actually, he envied his friend. At least with his date what you saw was what he got, unlike Skye. Why couldn’t it have been simple with her? If the circumstances were different and she’d remained a dancer, he’d have been tripping over himself to get a date with her. She had the looks of a supermodel and a body to match. Superficially, she definitely had the goods that would make his head turn. And if that wasn’t enough, the love for her son elevated her in his opinion even more.

Except that wasn’t the reality between them. The fact was, as easygoing as he liked to consider himself, and a man who subscribed to the motto To each his own, he could not reconcile the fact that Skye sold herself for money. Sure, it looked different on the outside than what his mother did but strip away the luxury and the expensive trappings and it was the same dirty trade.

And he hated it.

Which only served to confuse him about his feelings for Skye. The worst part was he couldn’t seem to walk away—even though he knew he should.

V
IVIAN LOCKED HER BEDROOM
door and crossed to her walk-in closet where she went straight to a box and pulled it down.
The box, a plain shoe box, was incongruous with the designer labels hanging from fine wooden hangers but hidden inside were Vivian’s treasures.

Today was an awful day, she reflected calmly, going to her vanity and placing the box on the surface so she could crack the lid and sift through the contents. She cursed the day Skye D’Lane entered her life. She should’ve recognized her for the cancer she was but like all malignancies, the danger started out small and insignificant.

Belleni had sought out the fallen ballerina after coming across a small newspaper clipping about her injury and subsequent replacement as one of the New York City Ballet Auroras. There were three doing the show on a rotating basis and Skye had landed the coveted part after only dancing with the company for a year. Belleni had been mesmerized, saying, “I shall add an angel to our ranks.”

Ugh. His angel. And her nightmare.

She suppressed a sigh of irritation and pulled a hospital bracelet from the box. She traced her finger along the worn plastic, the only memento she’d ever been able to keep of the child that was never meant to be.

What kind of mother would she have been? She liked to think she would’ve been firm yet loving; doting yet with boundaries. She dropped the wrist-band. Too bad she’d never know.

Of course, aside from the initial shock of it all, she’d never really dwelled on the past, until that little parasite came into their lives. Then everything had changed.

She’d long believed that she alone held a special place in Belleni’s heart. How could she not? She knew him better than anyone. She managed all aspects of his business and together they had amassed a considerable fortune through discipline and hard work. Managing the kind of secrecy the business required was no small feat. And everything was working fabulously until she came along.

The first time she’d seen that light flare in his eyes twisted her heart and curdled her stomach but she’d told herself it was a momentary infatuation, easily dismissed.

But then the child came. Vivian had waited to hear the words he’d said to her delivered to that whore but they never came. In fact, he seemed delighted with the idea of Skye carrying his child. That alone was a knife to her back but now, he was talking about acknowledging the boy as his son. “Ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. He was giving Skye the power to bring him and by proxy, her, down. Why? What was so special about Skye? Why did everyone fall under her spell? A vision of Skye appeared in her mind with her lithe yet supple figure and she couldn’t help twisting in self-loathing. Skye had the effortless benefit of youth while Vivian waged a constant battle with the clock. Her breasts were no longer plump and full; her skin no longer shone with vitality.

A sudden, lone tear pricked her eye and she wiped it away, her thoughts narrowing to a razor point. Here she was marinating in self-pity in her room when she could be doing something proactive to improve her situation.

The key to returning things to how they should be was to get rid of Skye. Five years of misery was enough for anyone to suffer and Vivian had suffered the most.

The woman must go. And frankly, she thought, stuffing the lid on the box tightly, she didn’t care if she left alive…or dead.

And that went for the boy, too.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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