Anger rushed through him and he bit back a curse.
Samair must’ve sensed his abrupt mood change because she stiffened and pulled out of his arms. “Is there a washroom in here?”
He pointed to the far corner and she headed in that direction without looking at him. When she was gone he strode to the little bar, grabbed a cocktail napkin and got rid of the condom. He washed his hands in the bar sink, and tamped down his emotions. Up until a minute ago, he’d almost forgotten about his problems.
Samair came back into the room and leaned on the bar top, a sparkle in her eye. “So, Val, what next?”
He blinked.
He loved her straightforwardness. Game playing wasn’t anything he was interested in outside the bedroom, and it seemed they were on the same wavelength. “You tell me.”
“I haven’t decided on my next fantasy yet, but I can tell you one thing. I don’t want it to happen in this club again.”
He chuckled with her. It was great to be able to talk so openly with a woman. She made him feel almost…lighthearted. “You don’t like my club?”
“I love your club.” She shrugged and her breasts jiggled slightly. He really should’ve paid more attention to those breasts when he had the chance. “But I can never be… I think I’ve just decided what my next fantasy is, and I really don’t think this is the place for it.”
“You going to tell me what it is?”
Little white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, making him want to run his tongue over it soothingly. She saw where he was looking and her eyes sparkled. “No. I think the surprise should be part of the fantasy. I get to plan it all. You just need to provide a private place for it to happen, and go with it when I begin.”
That piqued his interest.
But he really needed to get out on the floor and find out what the hell Vera was doing there. He pulled a business card from his pocket, wrote his private number on the back, and handed it to her. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll make it happen. For now, I need to get back to work.”
The light in her eyes dimmed slightly, and he squashed a pang of regret.
God knew he didn’t want to cut things short with Samair. If anything, the yen to spend more time with her was growing. But Vera was out in the club and he couldn’t let himself get distracted. If his ex-wife was around, trouble was brewing.
“You got it.” Samair tucked his card into her corset and shot him a saucy wink.
They left the private room and he stopped her from walking away with a hand on her elbow. He couldn’t help himself. “Next time you wear a skirt like that, don’t wear any underwear.”
Samair tilted her head up at him and the spark was back in her baby blues. “Ohh, I like that.”
He watched her hips swing and her skirt swish as she walked away, blending into the crowd. When he finally tore his eyes from the hypnotizing sight, Vera was standing in front of him.
The bitch always did have radar where he was concerned. There had been a time when he’d thought that meant they were soul mates. Now he knew it just meant she was a manipulative, controlling…
He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let her get to him.
“Vera.”
“Valentine. How are you, sweetheart? Playing with one of your little groupies I see.” She flicked her hand in the direction Samair had went in, her voice the bored tone that told him she was deliberately trying to get under his skin. She knew he hated apathy in any form.
“What are you doing here?”
“He never was one for good manners,” she said to the poser at her side before giving Val a tight smile. “I thought it was time to bring Peter down and show him the club since he’ll be running it after I buy it.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“But it will be once the bank forecloses.” Her painted lips lifted in a victorious smile. “And when it goes up for sale, I’m going to buy it. Peter here is going to run it for me.”
“You’re counting your eggs before they hatch, Vera. You never did learn that you can’t always have everything you want.”
“Pooh.” She stepped closer and put a cold hand on his chest. “I think we both know I always get what I want. I got you, didn’t I?”
Savage pleasure had him reminding her. “But you couldn’t keep me.”
Her eyes narrowed and he waited to see if she’d lose her cool. When she didn’t respond to his comment he gave her a confident smile of his own. “Risqué will never be for sale, you’d be better off to forget about me and my club, and just move on.”
She leaned in and for a split second her inner ugliness was clear on her carefully made up face. “You loved this bar more than you ever loved me, and for that, I’m taking it from you. You never should’ve walked away from me, Valentine. You’re going to regret it.”
She swept past him, up the stairs with her young stud close on her heels. His muscles locked and he stayed in place, motionless for several minutes. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, it was that he didn’t want to go back upstairs until he was sure the bitch had left the building.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Karl nothing would distract him from his goal. With the money Karl had given him that night, Val now only needed another fifty grand to pay off the mortgage on the building that housed Risqué, and shut down his bitch of an ex-wife’s latest effort to hurt him.
He could try and hunt down investors, but it would take time he didn’t have. Then there was the fact that the only person he trusted to invest and not try to take over was Karl.
Karl alone understood just how much Risqué meant to him, and why.
Vera obviously knew it was important, too, or the bitch wouldn’t have pulled some strings to get the bank to foreclose three years early in an effort to take it from him. He should’ve listened to Karl during the divorce. Making it clear that the club was the only thing important to him had backfired.
Whoever the attractive brunette was, Val was not happy to see her. Why that made Samair just a little giddy was something she didn’t want to think about too much.
Locked in place, she watched as the seductress sashayed away from Val and up the stairs. She was beautiful, and she moved in a way that said she knew it, and expected all eyes to be on her. Most eyes were on her, but not Val’s. Outwardly, he looked like he was simply watching the room, but something told Samair he was angry.
Very angry.
Part of her wanted to go to him, to soothe the tension from his shoulders, but the other part of her—the intelligent part—had her turning on her heel and heading for the dancers booth. Fast.
She’d just gotten away from a life full of complications and entanglements she didn’t need. Now was not the time to let herself think that this affair with Val could ever be more than a good time. And good times meant no getting wrapped up in each others business.
“Sammie!”
Samair’s head snapped up as she pushed past the trio of women fawning over Rob. Jumping up from her chair Joey shook her finger at Samair. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”
“Maybe.” Heat crept up her neck and Samair fought a grin. “What do you think you saw?”
Joey grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the table. “Did you just hook up with Val?”
“Uhmm, if by hook up you mean did I just bend over and let him fuck me good, then yes, I hooked up with him.”
“Samair!” Joey’s jaw dropped. Her expression one of shock and awe with a little bit of dismay thrown in.
“Hang on, I need a drink.” She waved at the waitress nearby and ordered a Diet Coke. She felt plenty good all over so there was no need for alcohol. Plus, she had a date for breakfast with her brother the next day. Getting up early for that was going to be hell enough without adding a hang over to it.
The waitress walked away and Samair met Joey’s gaze. There was no reason why she shouldn’t tell Joey what had happened the first night she was there. The only reason she hadn’t told her already was because she’d be so focused on the design thing. Better late than never.
“When I went to thank him for the free drinks last week I sort of propositioned him.”
“And he took you up on it tonight?”
“Actually, he took me up on it then.” She held up her hand sharply when Joey’s moth opened. “I didn’t say anything because we crashed as soon as we got home, and the next day we had other things to talk about. It slipped my mind.”
“How the hell could something like that slip your mind?” Joey’s voice rose an octave.
“I don’t know. My life was kinda turned upside down that night.” Samair bit her tongue and tried again—without the sarcasm. “I had other things to think about. Why is this a big deal? It’s just sex, and I know you’re not a prude.”
“Sammie, it’s Valentine Ward. Never mind that I work for him, he’s…well…he’s got a bit of a reputation.”
“For being a player?” He hadn’t struck her that way.
“No. As someone you don’t want to fuck with.” Joey’s green eyes were bright with concern. “I’ve been dancing here for almost three years and I know nothing more about him now that the day I first set foot in here. He’s here almost every night, but rumor has it he’s connected with the Hells Angels or something.”
A biker bad boy. That didn’t surprise her. “So? It’s not like we’re falling in love or anything. It’s. Just. Sex.”
Very good, very hot, addictive animalistic sex, but still just sex.
“Just—”
The waitress appeared with Samair’s drink and Joey closed her mouth so fast Samair heard her teeth snap together. She paid for her drink, but before either of them could say anything else Tara and Kelly came racing up to them.
“There you are!”
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you two!”
Joey rolled her yes and turned to the newcomers. “What’s up?”
“We want outfits too!” Tara squealed.
“Sammie, will you make us ones too? Just like Joey’s?” Kelly spoke up. “I want mine to be fire-engine red, though.”
The two girls continued to spit out questions and instructions like gunfire while Joey pulled Samair into a quick hug. And whispered a soft warning. “I know you can be a bit wild at times, but just be careful with Val, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”