Authors: Shelby Reed
Thank God.
Sitting there, staring at that envelope, she wanted to tell Adrian she’d never truly doubted his innocence, that all she wanted was to see him happy, and she wished like hell it could be with her. She wanted to ask him if he missed her at all, because her life had been on hold since the moment he hung up the phone last week.
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The lucid side of her knew Adrian was truly finished with the whole mess, harbored no desire to speak to her again. He obviously had scads of common sense over her paltry supply and knew better than to contact her and feed the impossible relationship that had been flourishing between them. Part of Billie, the unwounded, sensible part, was relieved.
One last tie remained. The article was almost finished, yet a melancholy reluctance kept her from writing the final paragraphs that would close the door on Adrian Antoli forever. And when she was done, and turned it in, Nora would have her head. The editor might not even print the piece.
It didn’t matter. Long ago, the assignment had ceased to be about getting published and had become a quest to discover the man so expertly masked beneath layers of pain and denial and enigma.
A quest to explore the foreign, uneasy, exhilarating emotions he stirred in her.
Holding the envelope up to the light, Billie squinted at it, but the linen paper revealed nothing. She slid a trembling thumb beneath the flap, gingerly opened it and withdrew a card.
Dear Ms. Cort,
Please accept this informal invitation to attend an intimate gathering at Avalon on Friday, 1
September, at 8 o’clock in the evening. While the occasion is intended to entertain out-of-town
clientele, consider it a social affair, or simply additional research for your article that has been so
regretfully delayed.
As always, your discretion is most appreciated.
Yours Sincerely,
Azure Elan
Billie returned the card to the envelope with shaking hands and slipped it inside her purse. Azure wouldn’t invite her back to Avalon out of the goodness of her heart.
Billie wasn’t even sure the club owner had a heart. She had a reason, though, for issuing the invitation, and unquestionably it would benefit Avalon.
Anxiety coiled around her stomach and squeezed. She knew better than to step foot in the club again. Everything sensible in her screamed to steer clear. But if it meant seeing Adrian again, even across a crowded room with his dark attention focused on some high-paying client, she’d do it.
Her heart gave her no choice.
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The Fifth Favor
A young valet approached Billie’s cab and helped her from the back seat without meeting her eyes. She wondered if the silent, red-coated parking attendants knew what went on behind the golden glow of Avalon’s windows. It hardly seemed real, even to her.
Climbing the brick steps that led to the club’s glossy red door, she paused on the landing, drew a deep, steadying breath and rang the bell. The muted melody of Westminster chimes echoed from within.
“Welcome.” The handsome, raven-haired butler in the black tails politely delayed her entrance while he examined the invitation she’d handed him. Then he examined her, his seductive gaze sliding down to her toes and up again in a visual caress. “Ms.
Cort,” he said as his smile widened. “Won’t you come in?”
The elegant lobby shimmered with a thousand candles, the flames reflecting off gold and mahogany, diamond jewelry, polished smiles. Chopin floated in the background as women in cocktail attire milled around the intimate space, each the object of an Avalon companion’s attention. To the side, observing her handiwork with a satisfied smile, stood Azure Elan in a white, floor-length gown as lacy and sheer as a spider’s web.
Almost immediately she spotted Billie at the entrance and crossed the floor with fluid grace. “My dear Ms. Cort. Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” Billie said with an equally cool smile. “Whatever the reason for your invitation, I’m so glad you extended it.”
“Take Ms. Cort’s wrap,” Azure told the butler, but Billie shook her head and tightened her grip on the silky material.
“That’s not necessary.”
“But you’ll stay long enough to sample some of our chef’s fine cuisine, won’t you?”
She took Billie’s arm, gently removed the silk wrap and handed it to the butler. “Look around you, Ms. Cort. You must stay just a little while. Pleasure abounds.”
The club owner wasn’t exaggerating. In every corner couples embraced, hands caressed, lips met and clung. A public display of affection like Billie had never seen. She turned a slow circle, taking in the carnal exhibit with fascination.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Azure said against her ear.
Billie allowed herself to be whisked across the room to where a solitary man leaned against a marble post, his sultry blue eyes fixed on the milling guests.
“Billie Cort,” Azure said proudly, “this is Joe.”
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Instantly Joe straightened, the bored look disappearing from his handsome face. His blue gaze skimmed down Billie’s copper, off-the-shoulder cocktail dress to her provocative high-heeled sandals and up again.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, with just enough drawl to paint him a southern belle’s delight.
Azure joined Billie’s hand with his. “Joe will answer any and all of your questions. I know you want to finish your article, and he’s more than prepared to tell you what you need to know.” Her glittering eyes dared Billie to voice the question that leapt to her lips.
Where’s Adrian
?
Maybe, Billie thought, if she was as sweet as pecan pie, Joe might tell her. “I’m so happy to meet you, Joe,” she cooed, mirroring his charm just short of mockery. “Call me Billie.”
Azure glanced between them and seemed satisfied. “Eat, drink and by all means, partake of any additional hospitalities we offer.” As she floated away, she added, “And don’t be shy, Ms. Cort. For tonight, you’re an honorary member of Avalon.”
Billie released a breath of relief in the woman’s absence and turned to survey the crowded lobby. No sign of Adrian. She glanced at the blond companion standing next to her. “Well, Joe, I guess it’s just you and me.”
“I’ve been lookin’ forward to this all day.” He spoke with enough wholesome enthusiasm to make Billie wonder if the country-boy persona was an act at all. “Azure told me you were a knock-out, but
mm-mm
.”
Two could play this game. She gave him a single, slow blink of lashes. “What exactly were you expecting, cowboy?”
“I don’t know, sugar. But I’d like to unwrap you like a Tootsie Pop and find out what’s in the center.”
Billie laughed and shook her head. The companions of Avalon were skilled actors as well as gifted lovers, but this one could have easily time-traveled from
Hee-Haw
, his hayseed charm was so outdated.
“Where are you from?” she asked as they strolled the perimeter of the crowded room.
“Anywhere you want, sugar. Dallas, Atlanta, New Orleans…you tell me.” He winked at her, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Making conversation with Joe, it turned out, was more like listening to a recital of the world’s worst sexual innuendos. But he was entertaining in his own hokey, down-home way, and for a little while Billie managed to keep her attention on the big blond cowboy and away from the far corners of the room, where Adrian might linger.
They stopped at a linen-draped table mounded with tiers of fruit and delicate canapés. A swan ice sculpture dominated the spread, glistening like wet glass in the flickering candlelight.
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The Fifth Favor
“Hungry?” Joe asked, and reached for a plate without waiting for her answer.
Billie’s stomach gave a mild lurch of protest as she stood mutely beside him and watched him place three or four canapés on the crystal plate. When he handed it to her with a sexy smile, she took it and let her gaze wander the opulent lobby.
Everywhere her attention landed, lush bouquets sprang from priceless vases.
Thousands of dollars spent for ambiance. Thousands more for pleasure. “Tell me about the women here tonight, Joe.”
He glanced around with a bored sigh. “Most of them are from an annual business convention. Same faces every year.”
“Are all the companions here?” she asked, keeping a carefully dispassionate expression.
“It’s mandatory. This is one of the busiest nights of the year for Avalon.”
Biting into a pastry filled with sherried mushroom, Billie let her gaze skim handsome faces, broad shoulders and clinging, greedy-eyed females. Adrian would have jumped off the page with his piercing good looks. She didn’t see him. “May I be blunt, Joe?”
“Of course.”
“It looks as though there’s one companion to every woman. How many clients are you scheduled to entertain tonight?”
He grabbed two glasses of champagne off a passing server’s silver tray and handed one to her. “They arrive in timed segments. Six to nine, nine to midnight. Tonight my book’s filled.” His hand settled at the small of her back. “But I could make room for another, if she wanted.”
She
wanted nothing except to fool herself into thinking Adrian Antoli was nowhere near this party tonight. Setting her plate on a nearby service tray, she tipped the champagne to her lips and swallowed the flute’s contents in one gulp.
When her throat stopped burning, she slanted her companion another look. He had the strong, bulky build of a Nebraska football player. It was easy to picture him lounging in a barn loft, buck-naked with a piece of straw twirling in slow windmills between his teeth. He played the red-cheeked country boy to perfection. No doubt his schedule stayed full on a regular basis.
But Billie didn’t want a ruddy, blond country boy. She wanted what she couldn’t have…
And the object of her every desire had just started down the winding staircase.
The world stood still as disbelief and a dizzying rush of adrenaline made her take a second look, then a third. At first she wasn’t certain the dark figure with the expressionless features was Adrian. God, what had happened to him in the days they’d been apart? He seemed so grave and remote. He wore a black jacket with a collarless, stark white shirt beneath it, his hair swept back from his aristocratic features, his onyx 135
Shelby Reed
eyes shuttered. The hoop in his left ear caught the light, a flash of gold against a backdrop of dark skin and darker hair.
But his most striking accessory was the ivory-complexioned redhead clinging to his left arm.
“That’s Adrian you’ve got your eye on,” Joe murmured in her ear. “You can look all you want, but his dance card’s filled.”
“I see.” Billie finally blinked.
Breathe in, breathe out
. “And the woman with him?”
“She’s a staple when it comes to this convention, but no one’s ever been with her except Adrian. She reserves him every time.” He rocked back on his heels, eyes narrowed. “Cryin’ shame. I always did have a weak spot for redheads.”
The tightness in her throat threatened to choke her. No amount of self-convincing had prepared her for the sight of Adrian with another woman. And it didn’t help that Joe now had his oversized paw resting at the small of her back, too close to her bottom for comfort.
“I’d like another glass of champagne,” she told him with a praline smile.
“Anything for you, sugar,” he said, and disappeared into the sea of bodies clustered near the bar.
Immediately her gaze darted around again, searching for Adrian and his russet-haired friend. It wasn’t hard to find them; he shone like a solitary black pearl in a cultured strand. They stood near the ice sculpture, chatting with Azure, who embraced the woman like a long lost sister.
When the club owner finally moved away from them, Adrian leaned to murmur something in the redhead’s ear. Whatever he said made her laugh, and the unexpected flash of his smile caught Billie in the heart like a flaming poker. He was talking to the woman like he’d talked with
her
. Intimate, seductive, his mask melting into warm pleasure. His hand disappeared behind the client’s back. Probably on her skinny ass, Billie thought bitterly. In response, the woman nudged him against the nearest wall, set his arms around her waist and rose on tiptoe to kiss him.
At the last second, Adrian smoothly turned his face and her lips landed on his cheek. While Billie stared in open-mouthed dismay, his lashes raised and his gaze locked on hers from across the room.
Immediately his head jerked up and he stared back at her.
Billie couldn’t breathe.
Even from where she stood, she could see the color flood Adrian’s cheeks, and her own face burned, some sort of misguided, sympathetic reaction to his obvious discomfort.
Seconds ticked by as they watched each other, astonishment melting into longing, and then into hopeless realization.
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The Fifth Favor
Joe reappeared at her side with her champagne and chose that prime, painful instant to brush his lips against her temple. “You look so damn sexy standing here all by yourself. Sure I can’t persuade you to hang around tonight, sugar?”
Across the room, Adrian’s obsidian gaze bore into her, taking in Joe’s brawny arm sliding around her waist, the way his mouth hovered at her ear, too intimate. Billie flinched away from Joe’s audacious touch, but the look on Adrian’s face showed no understanding. His attention shifted back to the redhead in his arms, and that smooth, emotionless façade fell back into place. The face of the man who’d greeted her the first time she stepped foot in Avalon weeks ago. A stranger.
His hands slid up his client’s spine, bared by her skimpy black dress, and he kissed her hard, his hands cupping her pale neck beneath her hair. As though he wanted Billie to watch. As though to say,
see how I can hurt you
.
See what I am
.
Now there was no denying it. Adrian was a prostitute. Billie, a fool.
“I have to go,” she told Joe abruptly, moving from his unwelcome embrace. “Thank you for your time.”