Heat Page 22
She’s much older than I am, though she hides it well. Her hair is short, black, and styled. Whoever her plastic surgeon is, he’s good. She doesn’t have that pulled skin look. Her makeup is tasteful and her jewelry expensive. She’s dressed in a designer getup that you would see in exclusive stores where I never shop. Give me Old Navy or Gap any day.
Her saccharin smile, which is more a pursing of lips, is as phony as her tone. “I’m Danita, Moon’s aunt. His father was my half-brother.” She hasn’t looked into my eyes. She’s too busy analyzing my body. “The ladies are in quite the uproar over you. We’re having a pool party downstairs, honey, and you’re the guest of ho…nor.” Her gaze meets mine and her phony concern drips venom. “My word, you poor dear. What happened? If Moon hasn’t killed your pimp, I will.” Her outrage is completely fake. She’s Moon’s surrogate mother whether he knows it or not. She’s found me lacking like all the other moms. She’s also just told me the type of women Moon shares his bedroom with.
I want to tell her to cut the shit but decide to keep my temper in check. “Car accident,” I reply. I couldn’t care less if she believes me.
Danita’s not only beautiful, she’s elegant and has that natural condescending attitude that I’ve run into a million times. She places her purse on the end of the bed and approaches me. She touches one of the bruises below my eye and I do my best not to flinch. I refuse to let her know she’s getting to me. Play nice, I silently tell myself. Using her fingers, she tilts my chin back so she can peer at my stitches in the light. Moon said to give her a chance. I’m sure belting his aunt across the face is not what he meant.
She drops her hand and also the pretense of playing nice. Her eyes narrow while she continues speaking. “Moon could have mentioned your condition. He said he had a special guest and you were staying in his room. He made that quite clear.” What she makes clear is that she doesn’t approve of me being in Moon’s room.
I step back because I can’t handle her in my personal space. She doesn’t budge, and her eyes hold satisfaction because she thinks I’m shrinking away from her nastiness. That’s not the case. I’m trained to keep a good amount of space between me and the bad guys, or ladies as the case is at this moment.
“How long have you known my nephew?” Her voice is firm and she expects an answer. Like Moon, I’m guessing she’s accustomed to being in charge.
I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, and allowing her to touch me went way past my comfort zone. “Look…” I slowly appraise her body just as she did mine. When I meet her eyes, I continue my statement. “Moon asked me to give you a chance. You’ve checked me out from my toes up, touched and examined my face, and now you’re butting into my personal business. I don’t give a flying fuck if Moon is your nephew; I don’t answer to you.”
Her laughter is nothing like Moon’s. It’s tightly controlled, and while she laughs, the calculation doesn’t leave her eyes. They flash with venom when she speaks and her claws come out. “No. You’re the one who needs to… look. I chew women like you up and spit them out. That’s why I run Moon’s escort service.” She picks up her purse and removes a card. “When Moon’s finished with you, call me once your face is healed.” She doesn’t bother handing me the card, just places it on the bed. “If you can manage to use your vulgar mouth for something besides cattiness, you’ll make a lot of money. Some of the girls are downstairs and they plan on enjoying the pool for a few hours. Take my advice and stay up here. You can’t handle me, sugar, and you don’t stand a chance with a group of women vying for Moon’s bed.”
She turns on her expensive heels and leaves the room.
My fists are clenched at my sides. One of her jibes hit dead center. She doesn’t see me lasting in Moon’s bed before my face is healed. She’s right. I’m also surprised to learn that she runs Moon’s escort service. Having met her, she’s perfect for the job, but still. The woman’s a shark, and I refuse to be a minnow in her pond. Her last statement about hiding up here was a challenge. I know exactly what to do with challenges.
I head into the closet and pull out the red bikini that I spotted the first day. It has a complex system of straps and covers practically nothing. No way did Gabriella choose this. I try it on, and like everything else, it fits perfectly. Too much skin, but that’s how it’s designed. I pull a flower print sundress over the swimsuit and slip my feet into red four-inch heels that come very close to matching the bikini. The heels are not my usual footwear and I sincerely hope I don’t break an ankle. There is nothing I can do about my face, and I refuse to hide it. I pull my semi-wet hair into a French braid and nab a pair of Moon’s sunglasses from a shelf in his closet. I didn’t find any large gold chains to go with Moon’s thug image. Too bad because I’d have worn one.
He has two books on his nightstand. One is a business book that I’ll admit sounds thoroughly boring. The other is Lincoln and His Admirals by Craig Symonds. I’ve read several Lincoln biographies and other books about the Civil War but not this one. I pick up the hardcover and hate the fact that my Nook reader is back in my apartment. I’d love nothing more than a good murder thriller right now.
I hold the banister as I head downstairs and adjust to the heels. The book and sunglasses are in one hand. I stop at the bottom of the staircase to get my bearings. Moon took me past the pool by turning right after we walked outside via the kitchen exit. I open a pair of double doors beneath the stairs and discover a huge ballroom complete with a built-in bar at one end and a dance floor. Two additional sets of double doors open into this room. Sheer drapes show the pool area outside.
My heels make a click, click noise as I cross the expansive floor. I head to a door at the side corner and open it. It’s a changing room with two shower stalls. On the opposite wall there are oak-wood cubbies filled with purses. To the right of the cubbies, expensive-looking dresses are hung up; I assume these belong to Danita’s swarm of lady sharks. I open the door that leads outside and see six women sitting under a large umbrella speaking to Danita.
All talk dies when I head in their direction. When I’m at the table, I lay Danita’s card on it. “No offense that I’m passing on your offer. I have a wonderful job as a private investigator.” I place the sunglasses over my eyes before making my introduction. “Hi, everyone. Please make yourselves at home. My friends call me Mak.”
I receive a few mumbled hellos before I walk past them to a reclining chair grouping that’s also under an umbrella. It’s over one hundred degrees and within a short time, I’ll need to take a swim to cool down. I sit, open the book, and begin reading.
“Señorita, may I serve you a drink?”
Gabriella’s voice startles me because one: I didn’t know she was there and two: her English is much more refined than before. She also gives me a soft smile and I know she overheard me talking to the women. She approves. “Gracias, I would love a glass of ice water, Gabriella. Bring one for yourself if you’d like to join me.” We both know this is a game. The question is… will she play?
She nods and walks past the women without looking at them and returns to the house. The women start whispering and I fight laughter because I can hear every word.
“What happened to her face?”
“She’s sleeping in his room?”
“How long has she been here?”
“Gabriella likes her?”
I ignore them. I’m relieved when Gabriella returns with a tray holding a small plate of fruit and two glasses of ice water. She sits beside me after handing over my glass and places the tray on a small table between us. I grab a stem of grapes.
“I can only visit for a short while. The sun becomes too hot for this old woman,” she says as soon as she’s settled. She’s acting like we’re old friends.
I’ve never actually play
ed the mean-girl game. When I was in junior high and high school, I was lucky because along with a voluptuous body comes a “don’t mess with me” attitude that kept the mean girls away. I have no doubt that the women sitting at the table ten feet away wrote the directions to the mean-girl games.
I tip up my sunglasses and smile at Gabriella. “I loved your albondigas soup. You’ll need to show me how to make it.” I pop a grape into my mouth.
She smiles back. “I would welcome a gringa in my kitchen to teach you how to make a traditional Mexican soup.”
I almost bust a gut at this. I would bet my right lung that Gabriella prefers no one in her kitchen and especially not a gringa. She finishes her water and stands. “Would you like your lunch out here or in the dining room, señorita?”
“I would love it out here, Gabriella.”
She nods and returns to the house. It’s hot, so I stand and pull my sundress over my head, kick off my shoes, and walk to the steps of the pool. I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know the women are watching me. They’re each beautiful in a unique way, and I have no doubt they make excellent money at what they do. I can’t help the shudder of distaste that travels through me at the thought.
I wade into the deeper end of the pool, careful not to let the water touch my stitches. It feels wonderful, and I can almost forget that I have an audience. I stay in for about five minutes and then get out and head back to my lounge chair.
“Would you like to use my towel?” Danita asks as she takes the chair that Gabriella used.
“No, thank you,” I tell her, because I don’t mind the heat drying me off. The other women make their way to the pool to cool off.
“Well played, my dear. Now I understand what Moon sees in you.”
Danita has decided to use another tactic and I’m not biting. Her gaze travels over my body once more. “You’d make fabulous money if you worked for me. Only two or three nights a week would give you more spending money than you could possibly make as an investigator.”
“You’re seriously propositioning the woman I told you to be kind to in my own home?”
Fuck. Moon is standing behind us and must have come in through the side gate. Danita, without regard to the anger in Moon’s voice, stands and kisses his cheek. His eyes don’t leave me. God, is he gorgeous. His suit is light gray and he still has on the jacket even in this heat. His tie is red and gray pinstriped. He ignores his aunt, walks around her, and scoots over a chair so he’s under the umbrella beside me. He leans down and places one hand on the opposite side of my lounge chair and gently kisses my lips. “How you feeling, baby?” he whispers.
I tip back the sunglasses and smile as he grabs a grape and plops it in his mouth. I want his lips back on mine. “I feel much better and have a clean bill of health from Dr. Santos.”
He leans up and I grab the plate of fruit and offer him some more. He chooses a peach slice and I watch as he chews it with slow, deliberate bites.
“Nice shades,” he tells me after swallowing. His aunt is left standing and it’s difficult not to laugh.
“I was going to say the same thing about yours,” I tell him because he has a pair covering his eyes. Before he can answer, I ask, “I thought you would be away all day.”
He takes another wedge of peach and I realize he must be hungry. “Finished early and decided to stop by and check on you before I head out again.”
I’m mesmerized by his lips. The women in the pool are quiet. Does Moon hold the same spell over them that he puts on me every time I see him?
His aunt breaks into our conversation. “I was hoping to discuss a few issues before I leave today, Moon.”
He turns and addresses his aunt. “Schedule a meeting with Alex. He can give me the information. I think it best you and the ladies leave.”
Oh, shit.
Danita looks between me and Moon and then back to me. “I apologize, Mak. I meant no offense. You’re a beautiful woman and I couldn’t resist.”
“Resist,” Moon says in a hard voice.
Danita nods and strides to the pool. “Come on, ladies. Mani-pedis on me and then we’ll have lunch.” They move quickly, almost tripping over each other as they walk back inside the house. A dark-skinned woman is the only one who doesn’t seem to be in the same hurry. She walks past me and winks.
Moon takes my hand before the door closes behind the women. He doesn’t care if they hear him. “I’m sorry. My aunt should not have brought her ladies.”
The door closes and they’re all inside. I can’t stop a laugh. “You’re upset that Danita brought the ladies? She gave me her card and asked me to call her once my face healed.”
Moon gives me a crooked grin. “I’m actually not surprised about the business card. My aunt is a pro and a bitch when she chooses to be.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that now.” I notice small pearls of sweat on Moon’s throat. “Aren’t you hot in that suit jacket?”
He shrugs. “Boiling, but it’s seeing you in that swimsuit, not the heat.”
I lower the shades so he can see my eyes. “I could always take it off.”
Chapter Twenty-One