“Please let me show you around town. I promise I'll make it up to you.” He grinned and looked Audrey straight in the eye, and her panties immediately soaked when he gently set his hand on her shoulder, the heat of his hand radiating across the partially exposed flesh.
“Where are you parked, Mr. Abrams? I'm in the mood for a drive.” Audrey didn't back down from his gaze, and they held each others' stares for far longer than necessary.
“I'm right behind you. And please, call me Silas.”
* * * *
It was barely nine-thirty, but downtown Dallas on a weeknight wasn't known for its rowdy crowds. In fact, anyone up to any trouble whatsoever wouldn't be out of doors, but hidden far from sight. Since the strict law of Prohibition had shut down every saloon in town, the wild underbelly of the town was forced to hide behind secret doors and innocent storefronts. To an outsider, the city looked dead. But if a visitor took a closer look through the eyes of someone in the know, he would see the city brimmed with a secret, unique chaos.
Audrey insisted on driving separate cars, despite Silas' protests. Her argument about learning the city for herself made some sense, but Silas didn't enjoy the attitude that accompanied it. They had clearly gotten off on the wrong foot, and it was now Silas' responsibility to right his previous wrong. He planned to show her a piece of Dallas bound to astonish her and undo his first impression within minutes.
Silas quickly took a right turn, where a neat row of new automatic traffic lights lined the street. He stopped beneath the light, despite the entirely empty road. Audrey pulled up alongside him and smiled as their engines idled side by side.
“What are you waiting for? No one's out to see us. We won't get in trouble, will we? I'm curious how fast that thing goes!” With that dare, she revved her engine and gave him a sly grin.
He never doubted his car's ability to outrun any in Dallas before that moment, but he recognized her sports car from a few of the races he attended in Europe after the war. Did she really plan to compete against him on one of Dallas' widest boulevards?
Before he could stop her, she hit the gas and took off. His instincts immediately kicked into gear, and he raced to catch up and close the gap between them. He floored the gas pedal and accelerated rapidly, but to no avail. She sped ahead, and when she gained enough of a lead to feel comfortable five long blocks later, she pulled her car into a sharp right turn and stopped right in front of him.
He slammed on the brakes and hopped out of the car to meet her, his heart still racing from the surprise showdown. She was out of breath, her short hair blown wild from the evening breeze, and with a self-congratulatory grin spread wide across her face.
“I heard the French were making fast cars. I can't believe I got to see one in action on the streets of Dallas! You're quite the driver, Miss Rousseau.” Silas laughed, taking it in stride that a woman had beaten him so easily. He'd lost fair and square, more or less, and it didn't matter anyway. There would most certainly be a rematch in the days to come.
“Call me Audrey,” she said, finally returning the familiar gesture he had offered at the hotel. “Now I'm ready for you to show me what you'd planned, Silas.”
The sound of his name on her tongue, the fiery flush of competitive adrenaline in her cheeks and the quiet, complimentary purrs of their car engines…it was almost too much. His heart raced as he looked down as this wild vixen, a woman unlike any he had ever known before.
He had to have her.
The thought shocked him. He couldn't remember the last time this kind of feral hunger filled his veins. He felt alive in a way he hadn't in years, that was damn sure.
“You've won this time. I'll let you get away with that. But don't think I'll be letting you leave Texas without a rematch. For your grand prize tonight, let me take you to the best kept secret in Dallas, Audrey.”
* * * *
Audrey was more than a little perturbed when Silas took her hand and pulled her into a phone booth on a seemingly abandoned street. When he’d driven them deep into an industrial neighborhood filled with warehouses, she was confused. And now she was almost afraid. What could he possibly be planning?
“Can you trust me, Audrey? I promise I won't let you down. Just give me a moment,” he assured her as their two bodies acclimated to the enclosed space. She refused to be put in such a comprising position inside a phone booth in the middle of nowhere America, even if he was one of the handsomest, most daring men she had encountered in years.
He closed the door to the tiny glass room, leaving the two of them tightly sandwiched together in the miniature space.
“One minute and I’m gone,” she responded, trying to contain her body as he pushed against her, reaching for the receiver. Locking eyes, the tension between them was palpable. They were so close, Audrey could swear she felt his hard
sexe
against her as he brushed her torso.
Was that a blush rising to her face? She was appalled. How had she found herself in this place with this man?
“Hello, Jeffrey. Are the horses in the corral?” He said the words into the receiver as if recalling a familiar refrain. He chuckled as her brow furrowed deeply.
“I like that look of yours, Audrey. It lets me know when I’m in trouble,” he said with a smirk as he leaned down and stole a kiss on her forehead.
Did he just…what could he possibly…
Before she could question or resist for another moment, strange sounds began coming from behind the back wall of the booth. Audrey was shocked at what was before her eyes. The wall had pulled away entirely, revealing a huge space on the other side of the phone booth filled with merry revelers.
So this is an American speakeasy.
“It’s called ‘The Merry Go ‘Round.’ Can you tell why?”
Audrey rolled her eyes and laughed. In the middle of the massive warehouse was a huge children’s merry-go-round, cleverly converted into both a revolving bar and plaything for a wild cast of patrons, each of whom bobbed slowly up and down on the backs of the colorfully painted toy horses.
“What would you like to drink, my dear?”
Trying to keep up, she smiled. “What do they offer?”
“Whiskey, always. Gin, sometimes. They have a hard time keeping the liquor in stock, since it goes so damn fast.”
“I’ll have what you’re having. I don’t know your American ways, and I prefer to learn by trying.”
“Be back in a jiffy.”
Audrey took it all in while she enjoyed a moment to herself, from the illegal rotating bar in the front to the gambling tables in the back. Wonderful music filled the place, fiddles and drums and guitars echoing throughout the open room. A man on stage yodeled along to the unusual instruments. Dancers whirled and swirled everywhere, moving to a rhythm and a series of steps completely unfamiliar to her.
“A martini for the lady. Neat,” Silas said from behind her, leaning in to let his breath gently ricochet off her ear.
“How civilized! I mean…” Audrey stammered, hating to sound judgmental about a town and a country she’d barely seen.
“It’s all right, Audrey. I know what you mean. Prohibition’s made America into a strange place, indeed. It hasn’t worked, in case you were wondering.”
“I think I figured that one out.” Audrey gave Silas a half grin as she sipped at her first cocktail since departing Europe five months previously. It tasted absurdly strong, and the potion immediately shot to her head.
“Let me show you my favorite spot in the place. May I?” Before she could think about it, Silas took Audrey’s hand in his and guided her through the throng of dancers, making sure not to lose her.
Emerging in the back of the space, they walked through a dark hallway. Silas placed his hand on a seemingly out of place bookshelf against the farthest wall, and it spontaneously opened into yet another secret room. They stepped inside the space, a cool, comfortably cavernous place filled floor to ceiling with bottles of wine. A plush booth with velvet seats took up the farthest corner of the room, the table set with wine glasses and cutlery for Silas’ guests.
“I’m a bit of a collector. French Bordeauxs are my favorite,” Silas said with his now familiar half grin.
“An American wine collector? In Texas? I never would have—”
“I thought you might appreciate it.”
“What self-respecting Parisian wouldn’t?”
“I’ll let you evaluate my taste sometime soon. But I didn’t bring you back here just to show this to you. I came here to be alone with you, away from all the chaos out there. Would you care to dance, Miss Rousseau?”
The music, a raucous, deafening rhythm on the dance floor, had softened to a pleasant, slow melody wafting down the hallway. It was just audible enough to make it feel like a private concert for two.
Before Audrey could respond, Silas was leading her in a slow waltz around the room. Their bodies swayed together in perfect time to the music, and she melted into his commanding lead. She felt tiny in his strong arms, her feet barely touching the ground as the tempo rose and fell.
“I thought this was a business meeting, Silas,” she tried to protest.
“So did I, Audrey. But that look on your face after our little race…I couldn’t stop myself after that. I saw the real you in that moment.”
With all of her power, she stopped her body from swaying against his and looked up at him.
“I came here to do business with you and your brother. That’s why I came to Dallas. You must realize this, yes?”
“Yes, of course. And I’m honored and thrilled by the prospect of collaborating with you. I loved the designs you sent, and I know Max will as well. But tonight isn’t about business. You’ve been alone a long time, Audrey. I can tell.”
He was right—it had been years since she allowed herself to be held by a man. Her work consumed every part of her and filled the dark holes left by keeping everyone at bay. She had been hurt and mistreated before, and the days and nights of her tireless labor were the perfect elixir to heal the wounds so deeply left on her heart. But was she that obvious? How could this stranger seem to know and understand so much?
“Just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to Miss Rousseau and Mr. Abrams. And no one will know, I can promise you that.”
Silas smoothed back her hair and looked down at her with a fire that made her forget everything else. The questions dissolved inside of her, replaced by a hunger she hadn’t felt in years.
Audrey’s senses were overwhelmed by him as he consumed her mouth, not waiting or needing to elicit a verbal response from her. She gasped as he led her towards the booth, picked her up and placed her down roughly on the table.
He managed to be simultaneously forceful and gentle with her as ran his tongue from the top of her ear to the base of her neck, pausing for a delicious minute to savor the flesh surrounding her collarbone. This close to him, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, she could do nothing but surrender to the foreign desire burning ferociously through her veins.
His scent seemed to surround her, and her sharp instincts as a
parfumeur
couldn’t help but analyze all she took in. He was an incredible, wonderfully American mixture of Ivory soap, black cherry, rope and leather, with the slightest hint of gasoline and musk. This man didn’t spend all of his days locked indoors behind a desk. His rough hands betrayed his playboy image, and the taste of salt on his skin told her he wasn’t afraid of breaking a sweat.
While she took in the details of this mysterious new person in her life, Silas didn’t hesitate to explore the secrets of her own body. He paused for what seemed like an eternity to trace the lines of her signature, closely-cut linen sports jacket and blouse. He took the time to admire the fine curves and careful tailoring.
“I’m going to tear this off of you, Audrey.”