Little Bird (The Tangled Series) (13 page)

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Savannah thought she should be mad at him for talking to her like that but instead it just turned her on. Lee’s voice was so deep and commanding, a little rough and gravelly around the edges. It ought to be illegal to be that damn sexy while being an overbearing bastard.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, baby. You just like it hot and dirty and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

It was quarter after five when Lee parked the Shelby at a meter on Constitution Avenue. Lee had been true to his word and they’d gotten out of the house in plenty of time to meet Paul Martinez and make it to Joni’s party on time.

They’d ridden most of the way to the city in comfortable silence, Lee’s right hand resting casually on Savannah’s thigh, just beneath the hem of her dress, when it wasn’t on the gear stick. She’d felt like Audrey Hepburn when they’d gotten in the car, a black chiffon scarf tied loosely over her hair to keep it from blowing too much in the wind.

When Lee came around the car to help her out of the Shelby, she pulled her scarf off her head with one hand and felt a jolt of electricity as he caught the fingers of her other hand, leading her across Constitution Avenue. Once on the other side, Lee stopped on the sidewalk, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. She could feel the warm summer breeze ruffling her skirt as he held her against him, his hands fisting the fabric at her hips. It was then Savannah decided Audrey Hepburn had nothing on her. She was the one standing on a busy street corner in a handsome man’s embrace, the sounds of the city all around them, the bright summer sun warming their skin. This was way better than any of those wonderfully romantic old movies.

When Lee released her and started to lead her across the mall, his fingers entwined with hers, Savannah had a giddy smile on her face. Here she was thinking she was hot stuff, hotter than frigging Audrey Hepburn, all because of him. Yeah, he was bad for her ego.

As they approached the Lincoln Monument, the steps swarming with people, Lee bent his head to ask, “So, how are we supposed to find this guy?”

Savannah raised her hand, shading her eyes from the sun, and surveyed the crowd. There were couples, school groups, and families all milling about. But when her eyes settled on a man standing alone at the edge of the reflecting pool she knew he must be their target. Pointing with her free hand she tugged Lee after her. “There.”

The man turned to look at them as they approached and Savannah raised an inquiring brow. “Mr. Martinez?”

Paul Martinez nodded his head nervously in Lee’s direction. “Who’s this?”

Lee opened his mouth to speak, but Savannah cut him off, her fingers squeezing his. They didn’t know who this guy was, not really, and she thought maybe it would be better not to reveal Lee’s identity if they didn’t have to. “This is just a friend of mine. We have a party to go to after this and can’t be late. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you I’d have company.”

Paul shrugged and stared off into the distance at the Washington Monument. He was tall and slender and, while he wasn’t unattractive, his nervous demeanor unsettled Savannah.

“I know where you can find Cara. I’m not supposed to tell anyone this; she’s working on a story. A really big story.”

Savannah nodded. “I understand that, Mr. Martinez, but this has gotten bigger than that now. Someone broke into her ex-husband’s home looking for her. They killed his dog. We think she’s in danger.”

“I know. I’m worried about her, too. I…” Paul’s words trailed off and for the first time his gaze met hers. The worry and concern was so evident in his face, with a blinding flash, Savannah realized Paul was in love with Cara. Savannah felt her nerves settle some. If he was in love with Cara this wasn’t a set-up at least. “I won’t tell you what the story is, that’s up to her. I don’t know where she’s staying either but there’s a club in North East, it’s only open Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. She’s there every night it’s open.”

Savannah felt the thrill of success. “Great, where is this club? Do you have the address? The name?”

Paul pressed his business card into her hand. There was an address scribbled on the back. “It’s called Tangled. It’s a private club. Usually you have to be a member to attend but I’ll arrange for two guest passes to be left at the front desk for you. You probably shouldn’t go alone, Ms. Alderton. You can only use a guest pass once so if you need or want to go again you’ll need to buy a membership.”

Lee’s voice was gruff as he interjected, “I’ve heard of the place before. She won’t be alone.”

Savannah looked back and forth between the two men, perplexed by the amused expression on Lee’s face and the anxiety clear on Paul’s sharp features. Raising a brow at Paul she asked, “What kind of club is this that I shouldn’t go alone?”

Paul glanced nervously around them before leaning close to whisper, “It’s a sex club. Mostly BDSM, but other stuff, too. It’s not particularly dangerous, but I don’t think you’d be comfortable by yourself.”

“What? How is that legal?” Savannah gasped and narrowed her eyes as she turned to Lee. “And how do you know about this place?”

Lee grinned, squeezing her fingers in his hand. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Paul chuckled, watching the byplay between them before explaining. “The legality of the club is why they’re so strict about membership. If it’s a private dues paying member-only club it’s no different than having a party in your own living room, for the most part. I’ll need your friend’s name here for the pass, though. They won’t issue a pass without a name.”

Lee smiled confidently. “Lee Jackson.”

Savannah saw the shocked recognition on Paul’s face. He gave them both an appraising look, noting how close they stood together, the obvious relaxed intimacy between them, the bruised hickey on Savannah’s neck, Lee’s fingers entwined with hers.

With an amused expression Paul finally said, “So you’re the ex-husband.”

Lee nodded curtly, not inviting any further comment on that particular subject.

Paul giggled nervously but let it drop. “I need to go. Your passes for the club will be waiting for you after your party. Good luck.”

Paul started to turn away but he’d only taken a few steps when he stopped and turned back to them. “And when you see Cara, please don’t tell her I was the one who told you where to find her.”

When they both nodded, Paul turned again and hurried across the mall, leaving Lee and Savannah at the edge of the reflecting pool sharing a bemused look.

Chapter Eight

L
ee held the door open for Savannah as she passed in front of him into the gallery. In the car on the way to Georgetown she’d pestered him incessantly about what he knew of this club Paul was sending them to but he’d refused to say a word about it. So as she entered the gallery she tried to forget her curiosity, instead focusing on how excited she was for Joni.

When Savannah stepped inside, the first thing she saw was Joni’s work hanging on the walls, dimly spotlit to best display the paintings. Lee stepped in behind her and she looked over her shoulder at him, her smile radiant. “This is so exciting!”

Lee returned her smile, patting her bottom before raising his hand to her waist and guiding her forward. “It is exciting. You should be very proud of your friend.” As he followed her into the open room he leaned closer and whispered, “But I’m more excited about the next stop on our agenda this evening.”

Savannah felt her knees go weak and she wobbled a little on her feet but Lee was right there, his hands on her waist to steady her. It was just like him to refuse to discuss it when they were alone, instead taunting her with his secret knowledge of the place when they were in public and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Savannah looked up at him, intending to tell him to behave himself, but when she saw the devilish look in his eye and the exaggerated expression of innocence on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Savannah!”

At Joni’s voice, they turned together to face her. She was running toward them, calling Savannah’s name excitedly. Her enthusiasm was infectious and Savannah squealed with delight as she rushed forward to meet her friend.

“Joni!”

“I’m so glad you could make it, Savannah.”

Savannah hugged her tight before stepping back. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m so proud of you, Joni!”

Joni looked over Savannah’s shoulder and noticed Lee standing there. As Savannah had stepped out of their hug Lee had stepped up behind her, his hand snuggly holding her hip, the fabric of her dress crumpled beneath his fingers.

Giving Savannah a suggestive look, Joni asked, “And who is this tasty hunk of man?”

“Joni!” Savannah gasped, laughing even as she blushed. Joni always said exactly what was on her mind.

Lee was chuckling as he stepped around Savannah, pulling her against his side and extending his other hand to Joni. “My name is Lee Jackson.”

After shaking his hand, Joni offered to show them around. They walked along the wall, stopping to look at each painting. Joni’s work was beautifully displayed and as they inspected each one, Savannah felt confident this showing would be a big success for her friend. She didn’t even think she was letting her own biased opinion influence that judgment. Already art lovers crowded into the gallery and it was still early on the first night. That was definitely a good sign.

As they approached one of the last paintings, Joni became more reserved, glancing at Savannah nervously and sputtering a little as she spoke. “Now, Savannah, don’t be mad at me.”

“What?” Savannah turned confused eyes on her friend but as soon as she saw Joni’s face she had a sinking feeling in her stomach and knew without a doubt what she was about to see.

Two more steps and they stood in front of a painting of a nude woman. She was seated, her legs extended in front of her, one knee slightly bent. She leaned back on her hands, her long auburn hair cascading over her shoulder, her head turned away from the viewer, hiding her face.

Joni and Savannah both stood in silence staring at the painting, Joni nervously awaiting her friend’s reaction and Savannah trying to bite back tears as embarrassment flamed hotly on her cheeks.

It was Lee who finally broke that tense silence, clearing his throat and looking at Joni with a warm smile. “You’re a very talented artist. I would recognize her anywhere.”

Joni smiled absently at Lee but her anxious gaze never left Savannah. “Thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

“Please, call me Lee. It makes me feel old when pretty young women call me Mr. Jackson.” Joni did look at him then and Lee gave her his most charming smile. “I assume this one is for sale like the others?”

Joni shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s not. When the agent for the gallery came to my apartment to pick the paintings for the show he’d absolutely insisted we include this one. I hadn’t wanted to, I had promised…well, anyway, he was adamant. So I agreed on the condition that this one would not be for sale.”

“Of course, I understand. But still, everyone has a price.” Lee gave her an expectant look, waiting for her answer.

“You couldn’t afford it.” Joni laughed dismissively.

“Try me.” Lee arched a brow, challenging her.

Joni gave him a speculative look, studying him for a long moment before she smirked. “Twenty thousand dollars.”

It was more than three times the cost of any of her other paintings. Savannah knew Joni had sized Lee up. She’d have noticed the expensive and well-tailored suit he wore, the expensive watch and maybe even his cufflinks. But she’d also have noticed that his hair was a little too long, his beard a little too scruffy, and his hands a little too calloused. Joni would have known he had money, the suit made that obvious, but she wouldn’t have guessed at the truth. She’d thrown twenty thousand dollars out there assuming that even for a well-dressed man like Lee that would have been out of his ballpark for a single painting from an unknown artist.

“All right, twenty thousand then.” Lee smiled, but he became much more serious as he added, “But I do have one other condition.”

“What?” Joni sounded suspicious, wary, probably not convinced that she was really about to sell one of her paintings for twenty thousand dollars.

“I’ll pay for it now and it comes down the second my credit card is approved. I can’t take it with me tonight, there isn’t room in the Shelby, but I’ll pay to have it couriered tomorrow.”

“He has a Shelby? Is this guy for real?” Joni turned to Savannah, her expression full of doubt and disbelief. Savannah was unable to speak, her heart in her throat, so she just nodded dumbly at her best friend. Joni turned back to Lee, still uncertain. “The gallery’s terms of sale require that all paintings stay until the end of the two weeks. They will deliver them after the showing closes.”

“I think you’ll find the gallery’s commission on twenty thousand dollars will motivate them to part with it immediately because if it doesn’t come down now I won’t buy it at any price. Call me selfish if you want but I don’t like the general public ogling my property.”

Ten minutes later, Savannah stood a few feet away, watching with apprehension while Lee made the final arrangements for the purchase and delivery of the painting. She was thankful it was no longer on display but she couldn’t understand why Lee’d bought it. True, Joni was a talented up and coming artist, but he could have had three of her other pieces for what he paid for this one. Of course, none of the other paintings were of Savannah and, to a man like him, twenty thousand dollars was probably pocket change. But it still didn’t make sense that he would buy the painting. Thinking about why he might have done it was making her stomach hurt.

“Do you want another drink?”

Savannah started at Lee’s question. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed when he concluded his business and rejoined her. “No, no thank you.”

“Is something wrong?” Lee put one hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from the growing crowd of art enthusiasts.

Was something wrong? Oh, yes, something was very wrong. But she couldn’t very well tell him that. It had been Joni’s painting and his money. She was just the model, a disinterested bystander to the transaction. She wasn’t supposed to care about the painting or what happened to it.

“No, of course not.” Savannah forced what she intended to be a cheerful smile but, judging by Lee’s expression, he wasn’t fooled. He was too perceptive. She looked away, not wanting to expose herself further, but she could feel him watching her, as if his gaze were a caress. It made her a little claustrophobic, the way he watched her so closely and so easily read her thoughts and feelings.

“Savannah, I know you were embarrassed. I was trying to help.” Lee palmed her cheek with one hand and turned her face back to him again. Despite her disquiet she leaned into the touch, soaking up the reassurance he offered.

“Were you?” she whispered, unable to disguise her confusion. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, really. But she didn’t understand his motives at all and she didn’t know what to think. Even if easing her humiliation had been his goal, now she was indebted to him. How was she ever supposed to pay him back for something like this?

“Yes, I was. If it will make you feel better, I’ll go speak with someone and have it delivered directly to you.”

“No!” Savannah shook her head, pushing his hand away. She couldn’t accept something from him that had cost so much. It was bad enough already but at least this way he would have the painting, even if it wasn’t worth half what he’d paid for it. If he gave it to her she would feel even more obligated to somehow repay him.

Lee studied her quietly, his penetrating gaze making her uncomfortable. If he didn’t say something soon she’d excuse herself to the restroom because this tense silence was getting to be more than she could bear.

Finally, he smiled and leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he said, “You’re amazing, you know that, Little Bird?”

“What?” She leaned back to look at him with surprise. Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that. It threw her off balance enough that for a moment she forgot all her worries about the painting, the money, and his motives.

“You don’t owe me anything, okay? I mean it. Nothing. I bought that painting because I could, not because I wanted to use it as some kind of bargaining chip with you. Okay?” He paused and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear, waiting for her to respond. When she nodded, he continued, “I would love to keep the painting because it’s beautiful. But if you’re uncomfortable with me having it, I’m happy to give it to you. No strings attached. I promise.”

“You can keep it.” Wait, did she just say that?

“Are you sure? You can take some time to think about it if you like.”

“I’m sure. I don’t want it.” Savannah nodded again, more confident this time.

Lee was so earnest and genuine; she didn’t doubt his intentions. Letting go of her own feelings of indebtedness wouldn’t be quite so simple, but knowing he didn’t expect repayment of any kind helped. Buying the painting just to spare her feelings had been a thoughtful, selfless act on his part. He’d had the ability to help and he did. She admired him for it.

In fact, the more she considered her feelings, it wasn’t just admiration. She loved him. If she were being honest with herself, she’d probably been falling in love since the moment they met. Lee gave the appearance of being a cocky, arrogant playboy and he was good at playing the part. But that wasn’t the real him, or rather, it wasn’t all of him. He had baggage and vulnerabilities of his own and she was one of the few people he’d chosen to share them with. Until now, she hadn’t wanted to admit her feelings for him. It was too soon, too fast. Out of self-preservation she couldn’t acknowledge the way her heart swelled when she thought about him because it was a foregone conclusion she would get hurt in the end.

She couldn’t deny it any longer. Not because he’d just spent a ridiculous amount of money on a painting, but because if their roles had been reversed she’d have done the same for him. Getting hurt didn’t seem so inevitable anymore.

“I’m certain, Levon. Keep it.” Savannah smiled as she repeated her decision. Her sudden giddy excitement, after her earlier confusion and uncertainty, was a little like being buzzed after one too many glasses of champagne. She was happy and she couldn’t seem to contain it.

“I have no idea what just happened in that fascinating head of yours but okay, if you’re sure.” Lee took her hand, lacing their fingers together, and started leading her back to the crowd. He stopped abruptly after they’d gone only a few steps. “Savannah, if things don’t work out with us, I’ll give the painting to you. You can keep it or destroy it or give it back to Joni. Whatever you want. If we’re not together it should be yours to do with as you like.”

“Okay, thank you.” Savannah kept her response lighthearted but she hoped like hell that painting was never hers.

Mike stood behind Ginny just inside the gallery, both hands on her shoulders as she shrugged out of her wrap. He was staring at the base of her neck and thinking of dipping his head for a quick kiss when he heard her sputter.

“That son of a bitch.”

Mike’s head came up and he followed his wife’s gaze to the center of the room where Lee and Savannah stood talking in a small group of people. They had their backs to the door. Savannah cozily nestled into Lee’s side, his arm around her waist and his hand casually resting on her hip. Mike and Ginny watched as Lee bent his head to whisper something in Savannah’s ear, his hand dropping to her bottom to goose her as she looked up at him with undisguised adoration.

They’d come to Joni’s opening because she hung around the office visiting Savannah and babysat for them a few times, but Mike suddenly found himself wishing they’d stayed home. This definitely wasn’t going to be the relaxing evening out he’d hoped to share with his wife.