clear that they realized they were in over their heads and they had to find a place to leave you. The Oriental enjoys something of a reputation for upper-class premises and personnel. No doubt they thought you would be more in your element here.”
Connor cringed inwardly as he watched Beatrice Von Furstenberg’s nostrils flare and her gaze narrow like a poised scalpel. Now was
not
the time for double entendres—either intended or accidental. He tensed as she reached for the whip and began to fondle it, tracing the braided leather and testing the flexibility of the shaft with long, capable fingers.
But, truth be told, she did seem to be in her element. Shockingly so. She was altogether brazen … standing there in her corset and stockings, her body boldly displayed, her eyes blazing, her abundant hair in tantalizing disarray … She was testing the whip with a slow, alluring hint of determination. He swallowed hard. She was clearly in charge and had been from the moment he walked through the door and found himself facing a woman thirty years younger and a hell of a lot more attractive than expected. Not to mention, nearly naked. Charlotte had neglected to mention that he would be negotiating with a half-naked woman.
“There was a woman who helped the pair carry me upstairs and lock me away,” she said tautly “It shouldn’t be difficult to find her. She was dressed like one of the poor creatures forced to work in this place … no doubt an accomplice. I suggest you set about finding out who it is. What law firm do you work for?”
His hands clenched at his sides. “That is not important.”
“Oh?” She looked him over. “What if
you’re
an accomplice, too?” She smacked the tip of the whip on her open palm.
He was sure he paled; he could feel the blood draining from his face.
“I assure you, I had nothing to do with your being here.”
“Tell me who you are.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Just accept my client’s proposal and walk out of here a free woman.”
“And let whoever did this to me remain scot-free? Never.”
Suddenly they were toe to toe, virtually nose to nose, and he hadn’t a clue how they’d gotten that way. Her warmth spiraled upward and on it, he caught a sensual blend of fading perfume, scented talcum, and feminine musk. His heart began to thud. As he looked down, his gaze dropped of its own will to the line between her breasts and his coat, then rebounded to her face. Torchlight reflected in her eyes like sentinel fires. He could almost feel the contained outrage, the battle readiness in her. And he sensed one more thing … something else … something … not quite so angry.
“You won’t need that,” he said, taking hold of the whip.
She searched his face, openly considering him. Her chest seemed to rise and fall faster and the fires at her core burned hotter. Then as he began to slide the whip from her hands, she suddenly grasped it tighter and lurched back out of range.
“Tell your client”—her voice seemed constricted—“I won’t sign anything until I have names and proof of who was behind my abduction.”
“You’re determined to be unreasonable, then.” He fell back a pace, then another, irritation growing with each step. “Perhaps another night of the Oriental’s ‘hospitality’ will change your attitude.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath, but before she could protest he escaped out the ironbound door.
HE LURCHED INTO the corridor feeling as if he were just a step ahead of the jaws of disaster … only to find Charlotte Brown waiting for him.
“Well?” she demanded, stepping squarely into his path.
“She has to think it over,” he said, trying to slip past her.
She countered his move, trapping him against the wall and subjecting his bare shirt and vest to her discerning scrutiny. “What’s there to think about? It’s a simple straightforward deal. What happened in there, Barrow?”
“Damned
Connor cringed inwardly as he watched Beatrice Von Furstenberg’s nostrils flare and her gaze narrow like a poised scalpel. Now was
not
the time for double entendres—either intended or accidental. He tensed as she reached for the whip and began to fondle it, tracing the braided leather and testing the flexibility of the shaft with long, capable fingers.
But, truth be told, she did seem to be in her element. Shockingly so. She was altogether brazen … standing there in her corset and stockings, her body boldly displayed, her eyes blazing, her abundant hair in tantalizing disarray … She was testing the whip with a slow, alluring hint of determination. He swallowed hard. She was clearly in charge and had been from the moment he walked through the door and found himself facing a woman thirty years younger and a hell of a lot more attractive than expected. Not to mention, nearly naked. Charlotte had neglected to mention that he would be negotiating with a half-naked woman.
“There was a woman who helped the pair carry me upstairs and lock me away,” she said tautly “It shouldn’t be difficult to find her. She was dressed like one of the poor creatures forced to work in this place … no doubt an accomplice. I suggest you set about finding out who it is. What law firm do you work for?”
His hands clenched at his sides. “That is not important.”
“Oh?” She looked him over. “What if
you’re
an accomplice, too?” She smacked the tip of the whip on her open palm.
He was sure he paled; he could feel the blood draining from his face.
“I assure you, I had nothing to do with your being here.”
“Tell me who you are.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Just accept my client’s proposal and walk out of here a free woman.”
“And let whoever did this to me remain scot-free? Never.”
Suddenly they were toe to toe, virtually nose to nose, and he hadn’t a clue how they’d gotten that way. Her warmth spiraled upward and on it, he caught a sensual blend of fading perfume, scented talcum, and feminine musk. His heart began to thud. As he looked down, his gaze dropped of its own will to the line between her breasts and his coat, then rebounded to her face. Torchlight reflected in her eyes like sentinel fires. He could almost feel the contained outrage, the battle readiness in her. And he sensed one more thing … something else … something … not quite so angry.
“You won’t need that,” he said, taking hold of the whip.
She searched his face, openly considering him. Her chest seemed to rise and fall faster and the fires at her core burned hotter. Then as he began to slide the whip from her hands, she suddenly grasped it tighter and lurched back out of range.
“Tell your client”—her voice seemed constricted—“I won’t sign anything until I have names and proof of who was behind my abduction.”
“You’re determined to be unreasonable, then.” He fell back a pace, then another, irritation growing with each step. “Perhaps another night of the Oriental’s ‘hospitality’ will change your attitude.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath, but before she could protest he escaped out the ironbound door.
HE LURCHED INTO the corridor feeling as if he were just a step ahead of the jaws of disaster … only to find Charlotte Brown waiting for him.
“Well?” she demanded, stepping squarely into his path.
“She has to think it over,” he said, trying to slip past her.
She countered his move, trapping him against the wall and subjecting his bare shirt and vest to her discerning scrutiny. “What’s there to think about? It’s a simple straightforward deal. What happened in there, Barrow?”
“Damned
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