A Marked Man (15 page)

“Did the bathroom take your breath away, or is it me?” He laughed. “No mirrors until the patient is ready, or unless the patient insists on having them from the start. They lower into place electronically. Are you impressed?” He rested his chin on her shoulder and she felt his warmth on her face. He was testing her reactions to him.

“Very impressed,” she said, not moving away from him. She didn’t want to. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he excited her. “It’s going to be a great success.”

“Yes. You’re right. In surroundings like these, and with what we bring to them, we can’t fail.”

Unless it turns out the great surgeon is a killer.

“I want you to try that bed,” Roche said, spinning her around and walking her toward the acres of white satin, eyelet, silk and glimpses of pink. “No girl can be complete until she’s experienced that mattress.”

In the company of Roche Savage?
Lee’s nerves stretched. His light, bantering tone didn’t stop her from being on super-alert. If she planted her feet and said she was leaving, he wouldn’t stop her. He couldn’t afford the risk of nasty gossip—or worse.

Lee smiled sideways at Roche. If she did leave she might regret it later.

“Climb aboard,” he said.

She put her purse on the floor, slipped off her shoes and lifted her denim sundress just enough to climb on top of the bed. Gingerly, she lay down, making sure her full skirt was modestly in place.

Instantly, every muscle stiffened, even her jaw and she clamped her teeth together. “So soft,” she managed to say, and it was.

“Just relax,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

The last thing she wanted to do was close her eyes and leave herself vulnerable to a strong, sexy man who stood, staring down at her.

That old autonomic response reared its head at once.

“Do it,” he said softly. “You won’t believe how comfortable it is. If you go to sleep I’ll make sure you get up in time for work in the morning.”

And what would he be doing if she fell asleep? Where would he be? And where would
he
sleep? She looked up at him through her lashes and a quick inventory of his pants confirmed that Roche had more than the clinic on his mind.

This was more or less what she’d expected. No reason to be skittish now. Single women with healthy—maybe overly healthy—libidos enjoyed men with similar drives. She’d been cut off a long time and much as she knew Simon would like to be more than her friend and partner, she doubted he had enough passion or imagination to satisfy her.

Her eyes had closed. She managed to relax a little and waited for Roche’s next move.

“Up you get,” he said, taking hold of her hand and pulling her to a sitting position. “Don’t forget your shoes. Are you ready for the spa? I’m not joking about that. Whatever you want to test or try, go to it. I’ll be right behind you.”

The questions she’d planned were piling up as the time passed. She must have been there half an hour already.

On the uppermost floor of Green Veil, Lee turned circles, trying to take everything in at once. “Why did you bother with the exercise equipment?” she said, giggling. “This is decadent. Look at all the divans. Who would want to work out here, or lift a finger at all?”

“If you come here, you work,” Roche said. He put a hand on the back of her neck and she was totally aware of his massaging fingertips. “I hope we haven’t gone overboard. I don’t think so. Max just lets me do whatever I think is necessary.”

The spa and exercise room filled the whole top floor of the building. Colors had been chosen for impact.

“The previous tenants did have a plastic surgery mill. All the spaces were broken down into cubicles. Their intention must have been quantity. We had to gut the inside but we tried to save what we could of the original house.”

“Almost makes you want to get sweaty,” Lee said, eyeing the ocean of equipment, the treatment rooms that opened off the main area, the aerobic floor. Roche followed her into a treatment room. It had a big shower, a steam room, a massage bed and large pots and bottles of products lined glass shelves. A facial steamer stood to one side of the bed, and on a counter were a heater for stones, a microwave and a wax bath. She smelled massage oils.

There were no windows, but a wall draped with shimmering brown and beige curtains suggested there might be. Deep, leopard print carpet swallowed the soles of her shoes.

“Let’s work out, then see what other mischief we can get into,” Roche said. “Would you like that?”

Lee sensed that giving her a choice was an afterthought but she nodded and felt trapped.

“Terrific. Leave your things here.” He stripped off his T-shirt, stepped out of his pants but kept on his sneakers. The way he walked showed he was perfectly at ease in front of her in his undershorts. “Your bra and panties will be comfortable enough.” He pointed to a closet. “Hang your dress in there. We’ll carry a wide selection of workout clothes once we open.”

He sat in a chair and took off his watch, checked the time and began to adjust it.

This was the moment when she proved she wasn’t an innocent little girl. The denim sundress came off over her head and she put it in the closet as she’d been told. Whatever she felt, she would move with confidence. As an afterthought she removed the small gold pendant she wore around her neck and her own watch. These she dropped into her purse.

She needed to think straight. “Ready,” she said.

“Good,” Roche said, glancing at her, apparently disinterested.

Lee didn’t like that.

“You go on out. I’ll grab us a couple of towels and some water bottles.”

Self-conscious in her peachy thong and a lace bra with half cups, Lee kept her back straight, her abs tight, and picked out an elliptical machine. She’d used them before, used a lot of the machines in the room before, but not in her flimsy underwear, in a large deserted clinic, alone with a man she hardly knew.

No one had forced her to be here and the least she should get out of it was the article on the clinic from an intimate perspective. For the rest, the night wasn’t over and she wouldn’t lose all hope of digging up something sensational.

Conscious of her all but naked butt, she strode out anyway and the adrenaline started to pump. She knew she had a good body. Why not show it off?

Music, a woman’s sultry voice, came through the sound system. Lee worked harder, until Roche spread a large hand on her buttocks and laughed when she jumped. Playfully, she slapped him away. “Get to work,” she said, repeating his instruction. “I won’t keep this up long.”

He put towels and water bottles on a bench and hopped onto another machine like the one she used. His muscles flexed all over. From time to time he turned to her and smiled. He tossed her one of the towels and she managed to catch it. With the other towel he wiped his face and left it rolled around his neck.

“I don’t suppose this was what you had in mind for your interview. We’ve always been a very physical family. We all work out every day.”

“It shows,” she said, and grinned when his face turned sharply toward her. “Well it does. You’re in great shape.”

“So are you.”

Lee slowed down, jumped off and ran in place for several minutes, aware that the weight of her breasts made them bounce. She went into the stretching routine she should have done beforehand.

“Is that going to be it for you?” Roche shouted. His tanned skin shone.

“Nope.” She wanted to stop but got on a bike and pedaled instead. The seat didn’t feel good. It pushed the thong into uncomfortable places.

Roche approached and her heart quit beating when she saw his penis, erect and impressive inside his shorts. She looked away and kept pedaling.

He stood beside her and massaged her shoulders, knocking a bra strap down. With great care he replaced it. Then he ran a finger down her spine and rubbed back and forth at her waist. When his hand settled on her bottom again, she felt slick between her legs—and embarrassed.

“You’ve got a great ass,” he said.

“Thank you, I think.”

“Do you really want to make the
Trumpet
your life’s work?”

“Absolutely.”

He used his other hand to knead her flat abdomen, and to trail fingers up and down the inside of her closest thigh. Suddenly Lee’s mind was clear enough to be cold. He intended to have sex with her—whether she wanted it or not.

“I
should probably get home,” Lee said. “Reb and Marc will wonder where I am.” Her nerve had begun to crack. She’d look elsewhere for the breaks she needed.

“Kelly told me you were spending the night at the paper.” His eyes didn’t completely focus and he slowly pushed strand after strand of her hair back. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

“Of course not.” She smiled widely and let her head hang back while she smoothed sweat from the tops of her breasts. He scared her crazy and he hadn’t even done anything, except insist she exercise in her underclothes. And put his hands pretty much all over her.

“Great. You’re jumpy though. Let’s get you cooled off and feeling good enough to go home and be ready for another day.” He brought his face so close she thought he would kiss her. His breath smelled of mint, and brandy?

Offering his hand again, he assisted her from the bike and walked, swinging their arms back and forth, to the room where they’d left their things.

“I can’t let you go immediately, you understand,” he said. “A hot shower first.”

“I’ll take a shower when I get back.”

His answer was to turn on the water.

Lee wondered if she’d have locks to contend with if she tried to get out.

“In you go,” he said. “I’ll use the head at the other end if that’s okay.”

“Go right ahead,” she told him and stepped in—still in her underwear.

From the edge of her vision she saw Roche strip off his shorts and get into the other end of the shower. She washed vigorously, even rubbing soap over what little she wore.

Roche’s sudden laughter made her look over her shoulder. He faced her, water beating down onto his head and face, and indicated that she hadn’t undressed completely. “Come on. Are you shy? Don’t you want to take those off? I won’t promise not to look.”

“They need a wash,” she said, feeling stupid. “I sweated on them.”

His eyes remained crinkled at the corners.

Lee couldn’t stop herself from lowering her gaze again. The guy was ready to go but he scared her to death. So much for her sophistication. She wanted him, but she couldn’t stand the thought that he’d find out she wasn’t so experienced. Not that she hadn’t had plenty of sex.

Roche turned off his showerhead and reached around her to turn off the second one. He got out and used a fresh towel. When she didn’t move, he gave her another charming smile, put a hand around her waist and drew her toward him.

Her heart beat hard.

“So quiet,” he whispered, massaging her belly and ribs. “I think you
are
afraid of me.”

“Of course, I’m not.”

“Lie on the table,” he told her and he wasn’t giving her a choice.

She grabbed a big towel and wrapped it around her.

Roche pulled it off. “Over here first.” He took her to one of the counters, removed the lid from the wax bath and plunged in her hands, ignoring her indrawn breath at the heat. He dipped her fingers in twice more. “Hold them out,” he said. The wax turned opaque almost instantly. “Sit on the table. Now.”

She did as she was told. “Now what are you up to?” She didn’t want him to know she was scared, but he’d started to really frighten her.

“How old are you?” Roche asked. He slid gloves over her hot hands, followed by electric warming mitts which he plugged in. “Soak up the heat, baby.”

Fleetingly, Lee imagined what kind of reaction she’d get if she told this part of the story in the paper.

“I asked how old you are,” Roche said.

“Old enough.”

His mouth turned down but he didn’t press her.

“Seaweed,” he said, lifting down a transparent container filled with a green material. “The woman who demonstrated this for me said it draws impurities out of your skin—or something like that. It feels damn good and that’s what matters.”

Frozen, she watched him open the big jar and scoop out a handful of what resembled green slime.

Her skin had turned cold and covered with goose bumps. She shivered.

He smoothed the slippery goop over her legs, sweeping up from foot to groin, making her jump, then reaching beneath to take far too long on her rear. Lee felt stiff enough to snap. Why not just say all she wanted was a good story on Green Veil and she’d like to go home now?

Because she feared he’d refuse. He might also turn nasty. What did she know about him?

The green stuff, when he smeared it on her middle, felt warm and slightly grainy. Roche spread it as if his hand were a huge butter knife. Back and forth, back and forth, lingering over every inch.

“How is the sex with your boyfriend, Simon?” he asked, catching her offguard. “Does he satisfy you?” He covered her skin, but avoided her bra and thong.

Roche held her arm and shook gently. “Come on, you can share secrets with me. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Simon is a good man, a nice man. I don’t talk about my friends.”

“That’s the way it should be. I hope I’m a friend.” He leaned close enough to settle his smooth, hard crotch against her leg.

Lee didn’t move a muscle. “You’re a friend,” she said in what she hoped sounded like a calm voice. “Why would three sexy guys like you and your brothers settle in a backwater like this?”

He didn’t miss a beat. He showed his white teeth in a throaty laugh. “We sexy guys have all seen things we like around here.” Undulating lightly, he applied more and more of the seaweed mud. For a few seconds he straightened and looked down at her. Then he set the next dollop on her décolletage, swept over the rise of her breasts. “On your side,” he said and once she was there, made sure she was a study in green from all directions.

The electric gloves made movement awkward. They also meant she couldn’t interfere with anything he decided to do.

Without warning, he spread his hands beneath her breasts and pushed them up. “Very nice,” he said. “Very, very nice. Oh, yeah, baby—we’ve got places to go and things to do.”

“Not like this,” she said, wiggling at the sensations he’d started.

“You bet like this.” The hot gloves hit the floor. “Leave the wax. We’ll make the best of it. Come on.”

To Lee’s dismay, he led her from the treatment room, across the floor of the gym and opened another door into a dark room. “We’re messing up the floors,” she said

Roche shot his arms around her, lifted her into the room, and shut the door again. “Forget the floors,” he said.

“Turn on the lights,” Lee said.

“In time. Show me how you make a man happy.”

She felt her skin grow hot under the mud, then blanch. Her breath came in short spurts.

“C’mon,” he wheedled. “Just a little encouragement. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Why are you doing this?” She kept her voice steady.

“Oh, don’t try the innocent on me. You came here to get fucked and who am I to disappoint a lady.”

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” she said, shivering.

“Really.” His hands spanned her waist and he slipped them slowly upward until they supported her breasts then, in a move that shocked her, he caught at the front of the bra and snapped it in halves with a single yank.

“Don’t,” she said, even though it was too late.

A sheen caught her eye. She jerked her face to look toward a wall. Shapes, moving shapes, her own and Roche’s. Even in near darkness she discerned they were surrounded by mirrors.

So rapid she had to clutch at his biceps, he shifted her until her back met glass. And the lights went on.

She closed her eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he told her. “There’s nothing sexier than watching yourself making love.” He raised her chin, leaned his weight against her and sent his tongue deep into her mouth. With fingers and thumbs he tugged on her nipples, shook them.

She reacted to him, had been reacting to him, couldn’t help herself. Her hips came away from the mirror and pressed into his.

“That’s the way,” he murmured. “I thought I was right about you. You like it, don’t you. The more the better. The harder, the better. And I just bet you like to experiment.”

Her heart beat painfully but excitement wiped out any reluctance. Jutting his pelvis, he sent his smooth, notable penis between her thighs and pumped back and forth slowly in a parody of what he intended to do next.

“I only came to get a story,” she said in a croak when he raised his head and she felt as silly as she was sure she sounded. Marshaling her pride, she said, “What a lot more I’m getting.”

He laughed with her and slid her over the mirrored wall.

“The glass!” she said. “It’ll be filthy.”

“Not my worry,” he said. His face seemed feverish. He ate her up with his eyes. “Touch me.”

It took her a moment to gain courage. Then she held up her hands where ragged wax trailed. “I can’t.”

“It’ll feel good,” he said.

Carefully, she slid her hands between them and took hold of the biggest, hardest man she’d ever encountered. Fire flashed through her body. He made keening noises while she stroked him, moved her hips against him. She tried not to look at herself. Or at herself pressed and straining against him.

“Let’s make pictures,” he said, suddenly, loudly. His laughter came, also loud, and too high. “Yes, Lee, pictures. This first.” She slammed against the mirror this time and he held her there by the neck.

Her hammering heart made a louder noise. He was dangerous, maybe unbalanced.

With his free forefinger, he circled a breast, the circles getting smaller and smaller, and stopped suddenly. His lips and teeth replaced the finger and he sucked her nipple into his mouth, bit just hard enough to cause pain, sucked until she cried out—loving what he made her feel.

She rolled her back, thrusting her other breast toward him, but he ignored it in favor of rubbing between the slick folds of her labia. “I can’t take it,” she breathed. “Please, don’t tease me anymore.”

“Would I tease you?” he said and increased his pace until she went over the top and her knees sagged while ripples of pure pleasure took her. “We’re just beginning.” He bit her ear—and he drove three fingers inside her, used them the way only a man who knew how to please a woman could do.

Lee felt her mouth fall open. She ached. Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive. He brought her to another climax and she screamed silently.

“Pictures, pictures,” he said. “Before you dry out.”

Roche rotated her and all but threw her onto the mirror. He pulled her arms wide and moved them as if making snow angels. Then he yanked her away, spun her again and rushed her to another wall of cold glass. Her shoulder blades hit first but he didn’t give her time to complain. He turned his back, leaned his buttocks into her pelvis and applied pressure. Once more he sprang away, pulling her, pointing and saying, “Best ass prints in town.”

She couldn’t laugh anymore. Fear turned her cold and where he’d banged her on the hard surfaces, she felt bruised. “The best,” she said and tried to collect herself. “That was fun but I am in a time crunch.” The waves of sensation hadn’t completely faded.

“A time crunch? Is that right? We’ll, I’d better help you hurry then. You want to even the score, don’t you? Yes, I know you do.”

This time he pressed her, face first, to the glass again and lifted her from her feet. He smeared her up and down, laughing all the time. “You’re a great sport, Lee. I won’t be able to wait until you come again.”

If she had her way, she’d never lay eyes on him again.

Clamping her on the cold surface with her feet at least a foot off the ground, he held her there with one arm. With the other he pulled her hips back and he slid her gently down, guided her over his distended penis, and stepped back again, carrying her.

“Payback time,” he almost sang out. He pushed her until her head hung down and her legs were behind her, clasped on either side of his hips to save herself from falling.

“Ride that pony,” he yelled, pulling and pushing, beating into her and capering.

She shouldn’t be so stimulated, so excited by him that she didn’t want it to stop, but that’s how it was now. Lee did her best to help him and he grunted his pleasure before he stood still, grinding rapidly, then staggering, slipping to the floor with her squeezed hard against him.

Lee closed her eyes and smiled. An adventure, the kind she’d only read about. And he wouldn’t want a word about his kinky predilections to get out, not in little old Toussaint. Secrets could make for a really close intimacy—even a compulsion to share everything. Telling her about his family’s troubles could be a relief to Roche…

“Mmm,” she said, snuggling against him and pretending to be tired. Rarely had she felt more awake. “That was so good.”

“It was a start,” he murmured. “You and I have a great future.”

She didn’t dwell on what he meant. After all, she’d just had the best sex of her life. Why not look forward to more of the same?

“Are all three Savage brothers amazing lovers?”

He gripped her too tight. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

She grimaced. A sore spot had been touched. “I’m getting cold.”