Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (24 page)

Why the hell did it take three hours to prepare the dancers for the show? He’d had no idea of the torment actors and actresses suffered before now. No, thank you.

Of course, he’d have endured far worse with a smile if Isabella could have stayed nearby.

“Almost done, sweetie.” The perky cosmetics specialist and her shameless flirting would have piqued his interest under normal circumstances. Today, his cock didn’t stir. Her ultra-fashionable hair and makeup seemed overdone compared to Izzy’s natural beauty.

Neither the flash of her lace-top stockings beneath her short, black skirt nor the not-so-subtle press of her enhanced breasts on his arm could grab his attention.

Not when thoughts of his princess preoccupied his mind. Who watched over her now? Was she nervous? Had they wrapped her ankle well enough?

Lost in his concern for her, he failed to notice his fellow officer slip into the dressing room.

“Who knew you cleaned up so pretty?”

“Screw you, JRad.”

“No, thanks. You better behave or I won’t tell you the good news.”

“What’s that?”

Melissa—or was it Clarissa—frowned when he ducked to prevent her from fussing with his over-gelled hair. He’d endured all he could bear of her torture.

“Isabella’s ready for a final dress rehearsal whenever you are.”

Razor sprang from the chair before his friend had finished his report. The stylist’s seat spun in a lazy circle in the aftermath of his lunge. “Take me to her.”

JRad consulted his high-tech digital watch as he led them along a bright hallway. The thing had enough gauges it could probably navigate a space shuttle. Razor’s dance shoes made rapid-fire taps, which echoed off the white linoleum.

“Nice heels, man.”

Razor flipped him the bird, checking the urge to waste time on insulting JRad’s mom in retaliation. Besides, Linda was a nice lady. “Any word on the butler?”

“One of the horse trainers we were able to catch off duty reported a scuffle near the barn last Wednesday. He thought it might have been Gerard he heard arguing with a couple of dudes. When he went in for a closer look, whoever caused the disturbance had already climbed into a black SUV. Said they took off quick. Remembers ’cause they spooked some of the horses with the commotion.”

“Fuck.” Razor rubbed his neck, wincing when he smeared the powdery makeup there. How did women stand this gunk? “No way did he leave willingly. He’s what, sixty-five? Izzy said he seemed a lot thinner since last time she saw him too. He wouldn’t be able to fight off two bruisers like Buchanan keeps around.”

JRad slowed, frowning as he faced Razor. “This is serious shit. I know you care for her, but you have to screw your head on straight. These guys aren’t fucking around. This is real cash. They’re not going to take kindly to losing out on twelve million, no matter how much they have—”

“Twelve? I thought it was five?”

“Matt nosed around The Black Lily this morning. Stragglers from the private rooms hit the streets after Isabella spilled. With the info she supplied, he was able to dig up more scraps. You know, the usual talk from guys too drunk—or too mellow after a night of fucking or being fucked—to stifle the urge to brag.”

Razor cursed. JRad continued explaining.

“They didn’t know what the prize was but a couple of Doms overheard talk at the bar about an auction. Five million starting bid had climbed to twelve mil by the time the whales started bitching about how Carrington had screwed someone over.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” JRad met and held his stare. “She’s right. They’ll try to take her back.”

“They’ll have to get through me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” His friend scrubbed his hands over his face. “After the show, I’m going to track the finances. Money will lead us to the big players. Don’t give me any shit about it either.”

“Not this time.” Razor’s number one priority had shifted from busting the ring to ensuring Izzy’s safety. If JRad could nail the top dogs, maybe they could do both with one cyber sneak and peek.

“I’ll make sure not to cross any lines. If I close in, I’ll do it official. I won’t allow them grounds for a technicality because of me. I swear. After what I saw today, I’d hunt them like rabid dogs if I didn’t believe in justice, the law. We have to do this right.”

“Thank you, JRad.”

They bumped fists before the other man pointed. “Around the corner. She’s in the first room on the right. Mason and Tyler are camped outside. I’ll be watching the crowd for a while. They’re starting to pass people into the studio now.”

Razor had forgotten all about the show. The reminder sent a wave of nerves through him. Shaking it off, he turned in the direction JRad had indicated.

From behind him he heard the other man call, “Break a leg, twinkle toes.”

He jogged the last thirty feet to the spot JRad had indicated. As he flew around the bend in the hall, he drew up short. His speedy approach had set the men guarding Izzy’s door on high alert. They’d adopted a defensive stance, balanced on the balls of their feet, arms loose at their sides, weapons in hand. Shoulder to shoulder, Mason and Tyler blocked the entire hallway.

“It’s just me.” Palms out, he slowed to a walk. “Man, I’m glad you two are on our side.”

“Damn it, rookie.” Mason tucked his pistol into the holster concealed by his sport coat. “Give a guy a little warning, would you?”

“Don’t mind him, Razor.” Tyler patted his hulking partner on the shoulder. “Lacey’s inside, chatting with your girl. You know how Mason is when she’s around.”

“I’m starting to understand a whole lot better.”

Mason shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s not easy to walk around with your balls in a vise all the time. I’ll never forget when trouble dogged Lacey. All you can do is rely on your training. And your instincts. How’s that edge coming?”

Razor shrugged. He hadn’t believed in himself this morning and the deficit of trust had resulted in unnecessary stress for Izzy. He should’ve known she would never do those things. Nothing in her nature lent itself to that kind of dominance or the need to humiliate. Not to say she couldn’t stand her ground, but she had a submissive streak a mile wide with those she trusted. How else could she have permitted the men in her life to take charge for so long?

“Working on it,” he mumbled.

“That’s good enough for now.” Mason stepped aside, permitting him to enter. “She’s sweet, your Izzy. Don’t fuck this up.”

Isabella laughed as Lacey regaled her with tales of Razor’s antics. Odd, he didn’t seem like the goofy, rash rookie to her. The recent past had transformed him, and she only now realized how much. Maybe, together, they could learn to have fun again.

God knew hanging out with Lacey came easy. They’d hit it off from the moment Tyler had introduced them. She envied the strong, beautiful woman sharing the sofa with her. Lacey glowed with the love of her two men. Though her desires had been unconventional, she hadn’t allowed anyone tell her she couldn’t have what she needed. Instead, she’d snagged two hot men in blue with one bold move.

Rainbows winked from the glittering facets of the woman’s antique engagement ring. It took a lot to impress Isabella in the jewelry department. She’d seen enormous diamonds before. Heck, she’d worn pieces from her own collection that surpassed the total carat weight of Lacey’s ring many times over. Knowing it’d been given with undying love and eternal promises, from two different men nonetheless, made all the difference in the world.

She wondered for the thousandth time what detained Razor. Had he decided not to go through with this after all? He’d remained quiet on the ride to the studio. Thoughtful. He’d taken to her Ferrari like it’d been special ordered for him. The ride had been smooth as glass. His fingers had drummed a mile a minute on the gearshift, though. The idea of exposing himself to another round of vicious gossip might have driven him away.

Dancing together without presenting their attraction for the world to critique would prove impossible. At least for her. She’d understand if he couldn’t handle that. To flaunt their connection where Malcolm, her father, or both would surely see… Well, it wasn’t smart.

“Earth to Isabella.” Lacey waved a hand in front of her face. “Take a deep breath, you’re starting to hyperventilate.”

The woman tucked Isabella’s head between her knees then rubbed her back while murmuring in a soothing croon. “Nothing to worry about. Razor will be here soon. You two will do great. I know it. Don’t think about the people at home. Ty says you’ve practiced a lot. You’re ready.”

The mantra started to penetrate her anxiety, although her fears lurked so much deeper than the ones Lacey had addressed. She’d started to sit up when Razor called across the room, “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Relief flooded her. He hadn’t abandoned her. How silly to freak over nothing.

Isabella rose, flinging herself into his arms as he reached her side. She didn’t care if Lacey saw how badly she’d missed him. Ludicrous! No more than three hours felt more like a decade had lapsed. To her surprise, he hugged her just as tight in return. Her toes left the ground despite her five-inch stilettos.

The loose straps around her bandage allowed one to slip off her foot. James kneeled before her, kissing the injured joint. He slid her shoe in place like Cinderella’s Prince Charming then rose, concern etching his brow.

“I’m fine, James. Just worried.”

“Why? You’re an amazing dancer. Or is your ankle acting up? I can tell the producer you’re hurt—”

“No.” She took a step back, fixing the wrinkle in his tux jacket with absent flicks of her manicured nails. “I thought maybe…”

“What?” He trapped her hand against his chest.

“You’d changed your mind. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Where would you get a crazy idea like that?” He glowered at her.

“I’m afraid I’ll subject you to gossip again. People will talk.”

“There’s only one person whose opinion matters to me, princess.” He kissed her knuckles. “My instructor’s.”

The darkened cocoa of his eyes guaranteed she’d become more than a teacher to him. The warmth spreading from her center chased away the dregs of her chill. It would take a while to believe life had turned so sweet. Every time he reassured her, she came closer to having faith. Her luck was changing.

“Your
partner
thinks we’re going to kick some ass.” She loved his answering grin. “And I also think you look handsome.”

Drop dead gorgeous more like it.

“Same here, princess.”

Razor’s once over turned downright naughty as he scanned the fabulous gown Arthur’s shop had crafted. It fit her better than the designer label ensembles Malcolm and her father had insisted she wear. The blue silk complemented her eyes, and the fluffy white edging on the layered skirt made it look like she floated as she moved. The bodice conformed to her breasts like a second skin.

Her cop licked his lips as he evaluated the glittery stockings encasing her legs, hiding the high-tech wrap Lacey had applied to her ankle. When he reached the strappy heels, he groaned.

She had to admit, her legs looked fantastic in them when she spun, flashing the curve of her calves.

“You don’t have time to do it right, kid.” Mason broke the silence with his teasing. “Besides, I think the team of women who worked their magic would stab you with their makeup brushes if you got her dirty.”

Isabella’s cheeks heated. She’d forgotten all about their company. She peeked over at Lacey, bundled into Tyler’s arms, holding one of Mason’s hands.

“Don’t mind them.” Lacey rolled her eyes. “Sex is all they think about.”

“As if you’re any better, doll.” Mason kissed his woman full on the lips while his partner cradled her. The sight had Isabella’s heart kicking in double-time.

Before things could turn any steamier, a woman wearing a wireless headset—carrying a clipboard—rapped on the open door.

“Isabella Buchanan and James Reoser. Time for your practice run. The cameras will use this to block the shots for the live show, so do it like you mean it. Stage Three. Quickly. We’re running behind. You’re last in the lineup and live TV waits for no one.”

“Good luck.” Lacey hugged her before heading off, hand in hand, with Tyler. “We’ll be cheering for you.”

Mason stayed with her and Razor as the stagehand led them to the studio. He took up the rear while Razor peered at each niche they passed. Their subtle vigilance might have escaped her notice if she hadn’t understood how much Mason would rather be with his lovers.

Isabella thanked her lucky stars again for teaming her with Razor. How else could she have ended up with a slew of new companions and such qualified protection yet avoided tipping anyone off? If Malcolm—or whichever monster ruled the women she’d seen—suspected her intent to bring him down, he’d do worse than sell her. Of that she had no doubt.

No one would question Razor’s buddies attending such a public event, though. Having the other cops nearby put her at ease. They would watch Razor’s back, relieving a smidge of her guilt for dragging him into her mess.

Her stress melted thanks to the guys. She concentrated on the dance she’d choreographed. Beside her, Razor mumbled a sequence of steps over and over. She grinned. He’d surpassed all her expectations. Wait until JRad and the gang saw him nail the waltz. They’d have a field day. Underneath the endless ribbing, their support would linger.

What would it be like to have such a strong network of friends? She’d do anything to earn that kind of respect.

When they reached the studio, Mason stayed behind the curtain while Isabella assumed her position on one side of the stage. Razor pressed a quick kiss to her temple before departing for his corner. The flurry of activity from the lighting crews, cameramen, and the crowd gathering made it easy to pretend they were alone. No one focused on the couple as they attended to their own duties.

Only the section of cops and their dates in the front row paid them any mind. Their presence comforted her. She hoped Razor could say the same. Waiting for their cue, she glanced up. Her partner beamed at her from his mark, nodding a moment before the music began.