Exposed (2 page)

“Your nine o’clock appointment is waiting in the conference room. I offered him coffee, but he declined.”

“Thanks, Marjorie.” Tamia rushed past the receptionist, barely sparing the woman a glance. She was ten minutes late to a meeting with a new client. Not exactly the best first impression to make. Thank God her boss was out of town this week, or she’d be in a shitload of trouble. Hell, if the client decided to go with another agency after today’s consultation, Tamia could pretty much kiss her promotion good-bye.

Reaching her sleek glass cubicle, she stowed her Coach handbag in the bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed her One Note tablet. Out of habit, she inspected her appearance in the hand mirror she kept hidden under a tray on her desk. Her MAC makeup was flawless, perfectly accentuating her dark, slanted eyes and full, juicy lips. Her lustrous black hair was cut in a stylishly layered, Rihanna-inspired bob that drew compliments wherever she went. Her silk button-down blouse molded large C-cup breasts, while her black pencil skirt showed off a round, healthy ass and long, toned legs.

As she hurried from the nest of cubicles that housed the agency’s brand creative team, one of the copywriters popped his head up.

“Hey, Tamia, I need the final mock-up—”

“Not now,” she said, cutting him off.“I’m meeting with a client. We’ll talk later.”

She headed quickly down the corridor, passing walls that were covered with framed awards, plaques, and press clippings the firm had garnered over the years, establishing it as one of Houston’s top advertising agencies. Tamia had worked there for seven years, diligently climbing her way up the ranks. As an account executive, she’d spearheaded several successful ad campaigns and now boasted an impressive client list.

She loved her job. More important, she was damn good at it. So she had as good a shot as anyone else to land the coveted promotion to assistant brand manager of advertising.

Reaching the end of the corridor, Tamia strode briskly into the large conference room. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood at the huge picture window that overlooked the glistening downtown skyline. Dominic Archer, a Crucian-born businessman who’d made his fortune selling prepackaged Caribbean food products.

“Good morning, Mr. Archer. I apologize for keeping you wait—”

As he turned from the window, Tamia promptly lost her train of thought. The man was at least six-four and copper brown, with sleepy dark eyes and a manicured goatee that framed full, sexy lips. Beneath his expensively tailored Gucci suit, his body looked well-toned and muscular. Solid as a rock.

Oh dayum,
Tamia thought.
This brotha is foine!

Recovering her professionalism, she stepped forward with an outstretched hand.“Tamia Luke,” she introduced herself.

He clasped her hand, his eyes roaming her face.“Dominic Archer.” His deep voice held a hint of a lazy island lilt. The scent of his expensive cologne wafted up her nostrils, subtle yet intoxicating.

Tamia smiled at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Archer. Are you sure you don’t want any coffee, tea, or juice?”

He smiled, revealing a set of straight, white teeth. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Yes, you are.
Clearing her throat, Tamia motioned to the long glass conference table.“Please have a seat.”

Once they were both settled at the table, she got right down to business. “I understand that you want a memorable advertising campaign to launch your first Caribbean-style restaurant.”

“That’s right.”As Dominic leaned back in his chair and casually crossed his legs, Tamia’s gaze was drawn to his Dolce & Gabbana black calfskin leather loafers. The man had style, which boded well for their collaborative partnership.

“I want something that’s gonna grab people’s attention,” he explained to her. “Something that’ll lure customers who’ve never even
thought
about trying Caribbean food. And I want something that’ll drive as much traffic as possible to my restaurant.”

Tamia smiled at him.“Then you’ve definitely come to the right agency. We have a proven track record of satisfying our clients’ needs.”

“So I’ve heard.” Dominic’s eyes gleamed. “I’ve been a fan of your work for years.”

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that.” Tamia was thoroughly stoked. “Now, before my team gets started on developing the creative concept for your ad campaign, I need to familiarize myself with your restaurant so that I can decide on an effective target market. So let’s talk about—”

“You’re even more beautiful than I’d imagined,” Dominic interrupted softly.

Her cheeks warmed from the unexpected compliment. “Thank you.”

“No, for real. I mean it.” He held her gaze.“I always wondered what you looked like behind that black mask.”

It took a delayed moment for his words to register. When
they did, Tamia’s blood ran cold and she stared at Dominic, stunned.“W-what did you just say?” she whispered.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.“Does anyone still call you Mystique?”

The room swayed. Tamia swallowed hard as a clammy sweat broke out over her skin.“When … how …” Her throat tightened, choking off the rest of her question.

Dominic grinned harder. “Like I said, I’ve been a fan of your work for years.”

Tamia got unsteadily to her feet, crossed the room, and closed the door. She couldn’t risk any of her coworkers overhearing the conversation she was about to have.

As she made her way back to the table, Dominic’s eyes traveled over her body as if he were picturing her naked. When he licked his lips, Tamia felt dirty in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

She stood behind her high-backed chair in an attempt to shield her body from his view. “What do you want?” She forced out the words past dry lips.

Dominic reluctantly lifted his eyes from her cleavage to meet her accusing gaze.“Why did you stop acting? You were a natural, Mystique.”

“My name is Tamia.”

He smiled, slowly shaking his head. “To me, you’ll always be Mystique.”

Tamia’s manicured fingernails dug into the soft leather of the chair.“Again I ask.
What do you want?
”

His smile widened.“I want you to come out of retirement. Become Mystique again.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“You misunderstand me.” Dominic leaned forward in his seat. “I don’t want you to perform for strangers. This time around, I want you all to myself.”

Incredulous, Tamia stared at him.“You’re out of your damn mind!”

He chuckled quietly.“If I am, Mystique, it’s your fault.”

“Don’t call me—”

“I own every last one of your movies. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched them, wishing
I
was the lucky man you were fucking so enthusiastically. It never seemed like you were just acting. Like I said, you were a natural.”

Tamia felt sick to her stomach. “Look,” she said, darting a furtive glance toward the door,“I don’t know who the hell put you up to this, but you wasted your time coming here. I stopped doing those movies a long time ago, and I have no intention of coming out of retirement for you or anyone else. Now you need to leave before I call security.”

Dominic laughed softly, unfazed by the threat.“You won’t call security.”

“Think I won’t?” Livid, Tamia spun away from him, rounded the conference table, and marched toward the phone at the opposite end.

“Do your colleagues know about your past life as a porn star?”

That stopped her dead in her tracks.

She stared across the table at Dominic. The wicked gleam in his eyes chilled her to the bone.

“Do they know about your alter ego Mystique, the submissive with a sublime pussy?” he taunted. “Do they know how much you enjoyed being spanked and fucked in the ass? Do they know how much you loved sucking your master’s big, black—”

“Stop,”Tamia whispered, feeling faint.“Just
stop.
”

But he ignored her.“What about your boss? When I contacted the agency and specifically asked to work with you, he couldn’t stop singing your praises. But does he know how
truly
talented you are? Would he risk the company’s outstanding reputation by promoting an employee with a … checkered past?”

Tamia gaped at him in horror.“Are you
blackmailing
me?”

Dominic smiled narrowly. “Blackmail is such an ugly word, you know? I prefer to think of this as a business transaction, one that can be mutually beneficial.”

“How?” Tamia hissed. “
You’re
the only one who’d get something out of this damn deal.”

“That’s not true,” he countered mildly. “In exchange for your cooperation, you’d get my sworn promise to keep your dirty little secret.”

Tamia glared at him.“And if I don’t ‘cooperate’?”

“You will,” he said with certainty.

Panic gripped her chest. “You can’t make me do anything!”

“No?” he challenged, raising a thick brow.“Tell me, Mystique. Does the lieutenant governor’s son know that you used to be a porn star?”

At the reference to Brandon, the blood drained from Tamia’s head.

Dominic smiled, slow and satisfied.“I didn’t think so.”

“Why the hell are you doing this to me?” she cried.

“I already told you. I’m one of your biggest fans. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet you in person, to see if reality lives up to the fantasy.” He looked her up and down slowly, visually peeling away each article of clothing. “So far I haven’t been disappointed.”

Nausea churned in Tamia’s stomach. “It’s time for you to leave.”

He raised a brow. “But we haven’t discussed my ad campaign yet.”

Is he serious?
Tamia wondered incredulously. “Under the circumstances, I’m sure you can understand why I’d have a problem working with you.”

“You’re up for a promotion,” he smugly reminded her. “Can you really afford to turn away clients?”

Tamia didn’t reply, but she knew he was right. Landing another major account would bolster her chances of receiving the promotion and give her an edge over her competition.

But at what cost?

“Why don’t you give it some more thought?” Dominic suggested mildly. “I’d hate to have to tell your boss that you forced me to take my business to another ad agency.”

Tamia glared at him, her jaw tightly clenched. The bastard knew how to play dirty.“You need to go.”

He smiled, then unhurriedly rose to his feet, smoothing a hand over his silk tie.

As he rounded the table and came toward her, Tamia didn’t know whether to bolt or grab the first sharp object she could get her hands on. She had time for neither before Dominic reached her. She folded her arms across her chest, a protective gesture that had the unintended effect of drawing even more attention to her cleavage.

Dominic stared at her bulging breasts, then licked his lips and gave her one of those lascivious smiles that made her feel violated. Powerless.

She closed her eyes and averted her face as he leaned close, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “You have twenty-four hours to consider my offer,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t keep me waiting, or I promise you’ll regret it.”

Tamia swallowed hard, shaking from the inside out.

When she opened her eyes again he was gone, leaving behind a white business card on the table and a subtle trace of his cologne.

Tamia was no good for the rest of the day.

She found herself looking at the clock every five minutes, which only made the time drag by slower. As soon as five-thirty crawled around, she grabbed her belongings and hightailed it out of the office. Working late that evening was out of the question. Not with her mind reeling from Dominic Archer’s shocking ultimatum.

She’d always feared that her past would come back to haunt her. For the past seven years she’d tried her damnedest to distance herself from it. No one was
ever
supposed to find out that she’d once starred in a series of underground porn videos to help put herself through college. She’d gone by the stage name Mystique and had always worn a black leather mask during her scenes, which concealed her identity from viewers while adding to her allure. She’d never befriended any of her costars or hung around the studio longer than necessary. Once shooting ended for the day, she’d headed straight to the dressing room, changed into her clothes, and bounced. She hadn’t cared whether the other actors thought she was a stuck-up bitch—which they unanimously had. All she’d cared about was making enough paper to afford her tuition and textbooks. And since she’d had no aspirations to become the next Vanessa del
Rio, she’d adamantly insisted on remaining anonymous to viewers.

Fortunately for her, the studio owner had been just as committed to protecting her identity as she was—though for entirely different reasons. Lou Saldaña was a smart, savvy businessman who’d recognized that a masked Tamia was more profitable to him than an unmasked Tamia. Her
Mystique Slave Chronicles
videos had been best sellers in the underground porn industry, and she’d received more fan mail than any of her costars. The aura of mystery surrounding her made her so popular that Lou had to threaten his employees with lawsuits to prevent them from revealing her identity to the public. And no one dared cross Lou, who was rumored to have ties to the Mexican mafia.

When Tamia told him that she was leaving the studio to pursue a career in advertising, he’d offered her the sun, moon, and stars to change her mind. When nothing worked, he’d grudgingly wished her well and promised to continue safeguarding her secret.

He’d kept his word. For seven years Tamia had been lulled into a false sense of security, believing that her days as a porn star were truly behind her.

She should have known better.

Someone had talked to Dominic Archer. Maybe one of the studio’s disgruntled employees, or a former costar who’d wanted to get back at her for stealing the spotlight. Or maybe even Lou himself. Tamia had heard through the grapevine last year that the studio was struggling financially and Lou was up to his tattooed neck in debt. So maybe
he’d
accepted a bribe from Dominic Archer. If the price was right, anyone could be bought.