Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1) (12 page)

He waved it off. “I have the feeling you’ll do that anyway.”

Kika stepped forward. “I’d love to see them,” she chimed in, with a playful flicker in her eyes.

“Charlotte, meet Kika Martinez… my date,” he struggled to say. Not because he wouldn’t date a gorgeous, intelligent woman like Kika. Deep inside though, he couldn’t fool himself. He knew what their being together meant. This was no ordinary date. She wanted his money to help her sister, and a part of him still wanted to persuade her to help him protect his sister. Were they so different from each other? Or were their similarities too close for comfort?

Charlotte’s eyes widened, as if she just noticed the woman by his side. His sister’s lips parted a bit, but she was great at making others feel comfortable, therefore, Charlotte disguised her surprise well. He imagined his sister would drill him about how he met someone in Vegas—someone to bring to the wedding, of all things. It didn’t mean anything to him it was a wedding, but he knew his sister too well to know for her, it did.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Charlotte stretched her hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Kika said, taking her hand and smiled back.

“How did you two meet? Or have you met before in one of his trips to the US?”

Oh wouldn’t she love to know? The curiosity in her sister’s eyes was as palpable as a kangaroo pie. He was about to divert disaster, when Kika stepped forward and rested her hand on his elbow.

“We met through my sister. Kind of a long story,” Kika said, winking at him. His eyes maintained contact with hers, and for an instant, it was like the two of them were alone in the salon. His heart flipped in his chest, and a senseless throb menaced his groin.

“Interesting. I will love to hear all about it later.” Charlotte’s amused gazed darted between Kika and he, and the relaxed expression on her face sliced the tension crackling the air. “Ryan, did you think about what I asked you? Best man?”

Ryan rubbed his forehead. Being Blake’s best man would be a pain in the ass. Then again, was there even going to be a wedding? He still had time to expose the truth. “Sure. Count me in,” he said, then drew in a breath. His father had been upfront about not coming to the wedding, since their mother wouldn’t be able to. She was still on probation and couldn’t leave the country. They would celebrate it in Australia again, at a later date.

“Good! Thank you.” Charlotte smiled, then pointed at the white stone drop earrings hanging from Kika’s ears. “I love your earrings by the way.”

“Thanks.” Kika tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“They’re really pretty,” Charlotte said, her hazel eyes still entranced by the jewelry.

Kika shrugged. “I made them.”

“Wow. You’re talented.” A smile ruffled Charlotte’s mouth. “Isn’t she, Ry Ry?”

“She’ very, very talented.” He sighed. Too talented for his own good.

***

Not too far from them, a tall brown haired man in his thirties had his hand over Charlotte’s shoulder, the possessive gesture leaving no doubt he was the groom. A group of people gathered around them, and they chattered on. A pang of envy pinched Kika. The couple’s intimacy around each other didn’t need any pretending.

Well, pretending is easier than the real thing.
Kika gazed at Ryan’s profile, the look in his eyes appeared remote, as if he saw beyond the happy couple in the middle. Beyond the luxurious, golden pattern of the textured walls. Or was he contemplating his past, and the life he left behind?

Her heart twisted. Ryan wasn’t even a client anymore. And certainly not a friend. Who was she kidding? His presence alone sheltered her like a worn quilt.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked, after a small jazzy band started performing and the waiters began their impeccable service, strolling carts filled with seafood pastries and canapés.

She caught him studying her profile, turning the tables on her. Giving the couple one last glance, she nudged her head in their direction. “Do you believe people can be happy together, for a very long time?”

He shrugged. “I reckon that’s the way it should be.”

Wow. How many men did she date that stated the complete opposite? That marriage was for suckers. Didn’t their cynical vision suit her just fine? Until…now? She leaned back on her chair. “A man who doesn’t dodge the important questions.”

“I used alcohol to avoid thinking. Answering. Not anymore.” He laced his fingers together, and popped his knuckles.

What did she use not to confront her past? Her relentless gallivanting around the world? Carefully avoiding making friends besides Elena so she wouldn’t have to let down when she moved to a different place? Her plans to open her own business, always in the backburner as if she didn’t deserve any success?

“You’re brave, Ryan. I… I’m not that brave.”

He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her neck with his palm, and she shut her eyes to compress the tears welling in the corners. The gentleness of his fingers, caressing the back of her neck with enough pressure to make her nerve endings stand on end, almost brought her undone. She soaked up that touch, the stillness of her hands on the table much different than the turmoil assailing her inside. The lingering pain, the warmth from his body, all wrapped into staccato heartbeats. “You’re brave.” He leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “You’re putting yourself on the line for your sister.”

Wasn’t he doing the same? “I wasn’t there for Freddy.” The confession escaped her better judgment, and before the image of her brother lifeless and pale haunted her, she opened her eyes with a start.

“Who’s Freddy?”

She clamped her lips and inhaled, wishing she could either take that couple of seconds back in time, or had the guts to fully open up to someone. His eyes gleamed with empathy, and he took her hands from the edge of the table and placed them into his, turning her to him, demanding her attention.

“Ryan,” said a female voice behind them, and they both turned as if entranced by a chanting.

Kika lifted her shoulders.
Phew.
At least she bought herself some time.

The woman’s soft voice matched the blonde curls framing her pretty face. Lord. She had full yet manicured eyebrows that would make Cara Delevigne jealous.
And me.

Ryan surged to his feet, and smoothed his hand over his jacket. “Hi, Lynn,” he said, and leaned to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Nice to see you. Congrats on the baby.”

Lynn slid her hand over her belly, and Kika figured she had to be early into the pregnancy, as barely a bump was visible under the sequined pink sleeveless dress.

“Thank you. Nice to see you too,” she said with an undeniable Australian twang.

“Meet Kika Martinez. Kika, this is Lynn, one of Charlotte’s bridesmaids.”

“Hi.” Kika waved, and although she turned to her, didn’t make an effort to stand up. Was she breaking the etiquette? Most likely. But the way he gave her a reassuring nod, egging her on to surge to her feet made her sit still. Why was he so invested in showing this Lynn woman that Kika was his date?

“Hi.” Lynn shot her a warm smile. “We just got in yesterday,” she said, pointing at the group at a nearby table. “My first time in Vegas, and I’m quite impressed. Are you from here, Kika?”

Kika played with the rim of her glass. “I was raised in a small town in Nevada, but my sister moved to Vegas some time ago.”

“Neat.”

Why am I jealous?
Kika sat the glass on the table and lifted her hand to her neck. It was warm, and she imagined she was blushing. Great. The man was leaving to Australia, and his ex was happily married.
Wake up, chica, and smell the café
. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. See you around.” Lynn gave a polite nod, and headed to the people. A man kissed her when she joined him at a table. Her husband, Kika guessed.

“The one who got away, huh?” she asked Ryan when they were alone again.

He nodded.

“I see.” She resented the stiffness in her own response. Why did she care? She blinked, looking for clarity. For reality to sink in, but all she got was irritation flaring her body. Gosh, since when was she that insecure because of someone she just met? So unbecoming. Really.

The waiter came and brought them some personalized pastries. She would have smiled at the burgundy writing on the macaroons, had she not read what was written.
Mr. & Mrs. Spot.
What?

A sour acid spilled into her belly, making her jerk back in the chair. “Is your sister marrying
the
Blake Spot? The owner of The Spot? This is…” she started, her voice trembling. With a quick glance around them, the guests around them became blurry figures, her anger skating up her spine. She returned her attention to him, pushing the words behind her clenched teeth. “Charlotte is marrying Blake, the owner of the hotel where my sister works and moonlights as a call girl. And you came to Vegas by yourself, days prior to the wedding. There’s something off about this, Ryan. I want to know what it is. Now.”

He slanted her a glance, his face tight like a violin string. “I can’t talk about it here,” he said between his teeth. The man knew something he wasn’t willing to share with her.

“Then take me where we can.” She surged to her feet, her chair screeching the polished wood flooring, but the other guests at the table didn’t notice. They were too captivated by someone who had just snatched the microphone from the band singer for an impromptu and somewhat slurred speech.

“Fine. Come with me.” He tossed his napkin down and held his hand out stiffly to her. They made their way out of the restaurant. Everyone laughed at a joke the man on stage shared, maybe a little roast on the couple, but the buzz was just white noise for Kika. Her stomach churned, and sweat broke her forehead. There was something very, very wrong.

They hit the hallways, and hotel guests made it impossible for her to speak until they reached neutral ground inside the sanctity of his suite.

“Tell me. Now,” she demanded the moment she slammed the door behind her.

With a sigh, he tossed the entry keycard in a vase, and took his dinner jacket off. Turning on the accent lamps, he faced her. “I’d ask you keep what I’m about to say confidential, but I don’t need to. If you spill the beans, it’ll be worse for you. For all of us. ”

“What the hell is it?”

He sauntered into the living area. The same place where they’d had sex two nights ago. “I heard a rumor that a few employees of his were a part of a prostitution ring in Vegas. Since Charlotte’s wedding was approaching, I decided to take matters in my own hand and come check it. I can’t let her marry that guy if this is true.”

She folded her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Focusing just on him, on his neutral expression, and not the plethora of twinkling lights and sights behind them, shimmering through the glass wall. The sound muted by the thick glass and the hammering of her heart. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

He rolled his sleeves up and continuing standing in front of her, with darkening eyes. “I hoped you’d help me with some information.”

The blood rushed to her temples and pounded. Hard. “Was that why you approached me?” The snippets of memory darted in her mind, how he’d talked to her in that bar, and agreed with her every request. Acting like the easiest client a real hooker could ask for. A warm wave of disappointment ballooned inside her, on the brink of bursting.

“Yes.”

A sarcastic snicker strayed from behind her clenched teeth. “I thought I was fooling you by pretending to be a hooker when the whole time you were going all amateur detective on me.”

“There wasn’t any other way,” he said in a low yet assertive voice, stepping forward and motioning as if to offer her some comfort. “If I told you the naked truth from the get-go, you wouldn’t have helped me.”

Lifting her hand, she gestured for him to stay put. Rationalizing was hard enough with him several feet from her, and to have him come any closer would only make things worse. The notes from his manly cologne adding to his clean scent had already swirled their way into her nostrils. “Look, this…were you thinking about turning my sister in?”

He plopped down on the chaise longue, and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Kika, you know what’s going on here is wrong, and illegal. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You just told me yesterday you wouldn’t endanger me. But not my sister.”

“I’m not out to get her. Whoever is in charge of this operation needs to be held accountable.”

She sat on the edge of the sofa, her fidgety fingers drumming on the cushion. “I don’t know who that is.”

Gazing at her, there was a message in his eyes that demanded compliance. “No, but your sister might, or perhaps she’ll have enough information to lead us to the person who can. I need to talk to her.”

“And then she’ll be safe?”

A long, frustrated sign left his lips. “I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know what the repercussions are or the laws of your country. If she is in fact charged, that doesn’t mean she’ll be convicted. I’ll see to it.”

Convicted?
Her racing heart floated up her throat, tension tightening her face. She narrowed her eyes at him. “How reassuring.” Besides, even if she was arrested and released on bail, that arrest would stain Luna’s resume for the rest of her life. It would be a part of her record.

He stood up again, his eyes never leaving hers. “If you help me, if
she
helps me, I’ll pay for the best lawyer in Vegas, hell, in the States, for her if something goes wrong.”

“Why should I believe you?” she blurted, her eyes met his and held. “It’s been a lie after another since the first moment we met. You’ve been sleeping with me to gather information. When you found out I wasn’t my sister, that I wasn’t a hooker, you didn’t even want to sleep with me anymore.”

He turned and contemplated the lights for a moment. “That’s not true. Me wanting you was never part of the game. If anything, it made things more difficult.”

Wanting her was not part of the game. Ice rolled down her throat. “Does Charlotte know?” She braced herself for the answer, and dug her fingers into her folded elbows
. I don’t doubt anything anymore.