Club Saturday: Contemporary Menage Romance (Sarasota Sin Series Book 2) (24 page)

Cora turned around and smiled.
 
Then her lips faltered at the sight of Julian escorting Gilda with Miles in tow. So Patrick wasn’t exactly flipping up Cora’s skirt the way she’d claimed.

“Have you met my nephew, Miles?” Gilda beamed.
 

Vania and Cora shook hands with him.

“Ladies, you look lovely tonight,” Miles greeted them, but his blue gaze lingered on Cora. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about each of you keeping the top floor running smoothly, which is no easy feat.”

Cora flushed under his scrutiny. “We try.”

Gilda clasped Vania’s hand with hers. “The fundraiser is a hit, Vania. All thanks to you.”

“Now,” Vania said, lifting a censoring eyebrow, “you’re giving me far too much credit.
 
But at least I’ve learned a lot from this experience, thanks to you.”

Julian pressed a kiss to Vania’s cheek. “I heard we reached our goal for the burn center.” He glanced at his watch, studiously and rudely ignoring Cora. “Not even an hour in, so all donations after this point will be gravy. Amazing.”

“The burn center can do a lot with gravy.” Vania wouldn’t let Julian dismiss Cora this way. “Miss Easton, I didn’t introduce my dear friend and co-worker properly to you. This beautiful young woman is Cora Bellamy.”

“Cora,” Gilda greeted her with a handshake. “You are familiar.”

“I’m Drake’s PA,” Cora affirmed, brushing ebony hair over her shoulder. The crimson dress she’d selected from the boutique hovered above her knees, displaying fabulous legs earned by hours of kickboxing.
 
The silk flowed erotically yet tastefully over Cora’s generous curves, the simple design allowing her body to speak for itself.
 
“We’ve chatted on the phone a couple of times, Miss Easton, when you were hunting him down for dinner.”

“Yes, Drake works too late, like the rest of my unmarried boys.” Gilda lifted her champagne to Vania in a silent toast. “I hope Vania will help him shorten his work days.”

Patrick came back with champagne for Cora. After greeting the group, he motioned for Cora to join him in the largest tent, where the dance floor glittered beneath a multi-tiered crystal chandelier.
 

“By the way,” Cora whispered to Vania before she left, “I saw that blonde god here. You know, the one who’s always checking out your ass. Just a heads-up, cause I don’t want Evan and Drake freaking out if he approaches you.”

Gilda was busy talking to Miles, but Julian caught Cora’s words. His whole body tensed to pounce. “Where is he, Miss Bellamy?”
 

“He was right over there, looking at the artwork a minute ago, all dressed in a tuxedo, gorgeous as usual.” She took a sip of champagne. “Why?”

Julian ignored her question. “Could you pick him out for us?”

“I didn’t mean to start trouble, Mr. Easton.” Cora took a nervous step back and grabbed Patrick’s hand. “Excuse us.”

“Wait, please.” Patrick tugged on Cora. “What’s going on, Mr. Easton?”

“I have a stalker,” Vania whispered, ignoring the censoring look Julian gave her. “For now, we’re not going to the police but using private investigators instead. Or else my name won’t drop from the headlines.”

Patrick nodded in understanding, and then asked Cora, “Do you see the man?”

Cora chewed her lip, trying to find him. “He’s gone.”

“Let’s go ahead and dance,” Patrick suggested. “I’ll make sure we circle the outer tent so you can search with discretion.”

“Good idea.” Cora patted her clutch and winked at Vania. “I’ll call you the second I spot him.”

Julian put his arm across Vania’s shoulders as a chill crept over her. “Security is everywhere,” he told her. “If the bastard makes a move, we’ll have him. I doubt he’ll be that stupid tonight, however, with the media swarming outside the perimeter.”

“I guess you’re right. He’s …”

“Doing what stalkers do,” Julian filled in, his emerald eyes darkening with rage, “getting off on your fear.”

“It’s hard not to feel afraid, especially after…”

“What happened last night? I heard. We’re going to find him, and when we do. Well, let’s put it this way, I’d hate to be on the receiving end of Evan and Drake’s wrath.”

Vania nodded, and then winced when she took a step towards Gilda.

“What is it?”
 

She waved away Julian’s concern. “I need to switch heels, something lower for my aching tendon.”
 

“You’re staying in the loft?”

“Yeah,” she said, “but don’t worry about it.”

“It’s going to be a long night here, and then you’ll be headed to the hospital. I’ll escort you.”

Julian and Vania excused themselves and found their way up the loft stairs. She looked over her shoulder at him while unlocking the door. “We’ll be labeled an item, all over the internet in the next hour. I can see it now, slut moves on to the next Easton.”

“Not if I wait outside.”

“Good thinking, I’ll be quick.”

The second she opened the door, Oscar bolted down the stairs.

“Get back here!” Vania whipped off her shoes and started after him.

Julian grabbed her. “Hold on.”

She pushed at him, nearly toppling off the landing. “I won’t find Oscar in this crowd if he gets too far ahead.”

“If you were mine, you’d be getting the spanking of your life for this. Falling down stairs won’t get your cat back.” His grip tightened on her as he pulled Vania away from the railing. “Now,” he said as he positioned her next to him, “I see a blonde man by to the Koi pond. Don’t look. He’s staring right up at you, his hands fisting at his sides.”

Julian pulled her to the loft’s threshold and phoned security. To Julian’s credit, he told them to find Oscar, too. When he put away his phone, he leaned and said, “I’m going to whisper something in your ear. You’re going to turn to the side and laugh. See if you recognize him but be discreet.”

“Yes.”

She followed Julian’s lead, laughing and turning her head. Her eyes locked right on Jon LuVre. “It’s the artist,” she whispered faintly, her knees weakening at the way Jon was staring at her. Julian caught Vania as she stumbled. Was Jon the man who put his mouth on her, who promised
soon
just last night? “Jon LuVre is his name.”

Julian texted a message. “We can’t accuse him of anything for staring at you hungrily. But text Cora to meet me at the Koi pond. I’ll go talk to him, keep him there as long as I can.”

“Okay.”
 

“Go inside.” He nudged her. “Lock the door behind me.”

Julian descended the stairs casually, fighting his instincts to charge at the artist and demand to know his intentions. He hated how Vania trembled in his arms, hated any man who put fear in a woman’s eyes.
 

“Jon LuVre?” Julian asked smoothly, though he shouldn’t have bothered with pretense. The artist was dripping with sweat and glancing up at the loft.
 

“Yes, Mr. Easton.” He shook Julian’s hand. “We met at another fundraiser not long ago. One of your hotels, I believe. Hytel Plume?”

“The fundraiser for medivacs.” Julian didn’t recall meeting this man. “I assume you’ve been working closely with Vania Lange.”

“Yes, she’s a stunning woman.”
 

“You were staring transfixed at her.” Julian noticed Cora heading his way. “Made Vania quite nervous.”

“I get that way.” He shook his blonde head, the color similar to Julian’s own. “When I spot someone I want to paint or sculpt, even sketch. I start seeing the lines and the contours, imagining transferring them on canvas or carving… You should see this pale pink marble that arrived from —"

“
Mr. LuVre
.”

“Right.” Jon blinked a few times. “There I go again. Anyway, I wanted to sculpt Vania, uh, Miss Lange. I hope she’s available.”

“Evan Easton would stand in your way,” Drake said, suddenly standing next to Julian.
 

Cora walked up beside Drake, sans Patrick, and gave a negligible shake of her head. The answer was no. Jon LuVre wasn’t Vania’s stalker.
 

“Sculpting is nothing sordid, I assure you,” Jon said, pressing his issue.
 

If the man would take a moment to look into Drake’s eyes, he would realize his mistake, but he kept rambling stupidly.

Julian spotted Evan going into the loft. Satisfied of Vania’s safety, he pulled Cora aside. “I have a cat to find.”

Her lush mouth formed an O. “Oscar?”

Julian nodded. “Does he know you?”

“Well enough, I suppose.”

He couldn’t believe the way Cora looked tonight. Gone was the prim clothing of Drake’s PA. Someone had replaced her with a sultry, jet-haired siren with smoky eyes and red lips. Had her breasts always been this inviting? His hands clenched at the need to touch them.
 

“Then you should come with me and help find Oscar for Vania. You can keep an eye out for the blonde god while you’re at it.” He started walking to the buffet tables. Cats liked fish and there was plenty to be had.
 

“What’s going on?” Miles started walking alongside him. “Why’s Drake so pissed?”

“Artist wants to sculpt Vania.”

“Idiot.”

Julian looked over his shoulder to say something to Cora, but to his surprise, she wasn’t there. He’d assumed she would follow him as usual.
 
However, she was back a ways, holding hands with Patrick Newson while discreetly looking under bushes and tables for the damn cat.
 

Miles glanced from Cora to Julian. “Now, you’re looking like Drake.”

“I am?”
 

“Yeah, but I can’t blame you.
 
You want what you can’t have.” Miles clapped him on the back. “She’s a wet dream.”

Julian turned rigid. “What do you mean, what I can’t have?”

Miles’ eyes ignited with challenge, reminding Julian what Miles’ birthright truly was. Bastard or not, he was an Easton by blood and not adoption. “The second Cora comes up for air from that man, she’s mine.”

Chapter 27

“Baby?”

“I’m okay, Evan.” Vania kicked off her shoes and stared through the limo window, watching nighttime Sarasota pass by. Normally, she loved this town. But with the paps following, one even on a motorcycle, she’d rather be anywhere else.
 

“You switched shoes.”

“You noticed?”

Evan lifted her bare foot and placed it on his lap, his fingers magically finding the spot that ached. “I notice everything about you.” When she stayed quiet, he pleaded, “Relax with me.”

“Relax?” she sputtered.

“Yes, Oscar’s safe.” Drake gathered her hand in his. “The fundraiser was deemed a success within its first half hour. By the way, Aunt Gilda thinks you are gold dipped in chocolate, wants to know when we’re marrying you.”

Vania shook her head and sank in the soft leather.
 

“Don’t worry,” Evan said with a wink. “I told Aunt Gilda she’d be the first to know.”

“Hmm,” was her reply to his teasing. Then, “I wish we could’ve danced under the chandelier inside the main tent, only the three of us.”

Drake pulled her closer. “Later tonight, we can dance while we’re celebrating your birthday in luxuriant privacy.”
 

Evan’s hand slid up her leg, curving around her calf. “Got great plans for that. Wait and see.”

Drake’s mouth found the side of her throat. “Are you going to dance for us again? This time, you would remember afterwards since you’re not drunk.”

“How can you two stay so calm? Even if I didn’t have a stalker after me, we can’t find five minutes of peace. So sitting here in the quiet hum of the car is an illusion.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “Behind us, countless vultures are waiting to land.”

“I only counted five.”

“Not funny,” she snapped.

“You’re right, Baby.
 
None of this is funny. But we don’t stop breathing when the air gets too hot in the summer, do we? No. We keep on breathing.”
 

“This is our life right now.” Drake kept his mouth at her throat and drifted his fingers across her collarbone. “Part of it is a mess that we’re currently fixing, but the other part?
 
Is you, Evan, and me together, and we’re
complete
when we’re together.”

“You’ve noticed that already, though, haven’t you, Baby?”

“Yes.” Her stomach dipped. “But I hate the distance I must keep with Drake while we’re in public.”

“I do, too.” Drake’s hand found her breast. He didn’t play with the nipple through her silk but only held her.
 

“But it’s not always going to work that way.” Evan placed her foot on his crotch, his erection hard beneath her sole. “When we three are not together, some days you’re going to be with Drake and other times with me. But from the public’s vantage point, you are mine.”

She asked Drake, “How do you deal with that?”