Ryan shot back his cuff to expose the stark Roman numerals on his watch and observed blandly, ‘Mmm, all good girls are certainly tucked away in their cosy little beds by now...’
‘Are you implying I’m not one of them?’ Jane challenged, her blue eyes turbulent with repressed aggression.
Dan chuckled, his thigh drifting suggestively against hers under the table. ‘Are you kidding? You wouldn’t be here if Ry didn’t think you were very, very good. He told me you were class, honey, real class—and he was right!’ As he groped for her hand she hurriedly wrapped it around her water-glass, and he was forced to settle for patting her knee with a moist palm.
‘Oh, really, what else did he tell you about me?’ Jane swiftly jerked her leg away as his touch threatened to wander, a slimy suspicion slithering around in the murky depths of her imagination.
‘Well, honey, if you really want to know...why don’t we go up to your room and discuss it over a nice nightcap?’ Dan’s slightly bloodshot brown eyes crinkled in a friendly leer that gave Jane goose-bumps. She knew what sort of nightcap he had in mind and it wasn’t the alcoholic kind! Before she could summon the words to adequately voice her outrage he suddenly spotted an acquaintance at a distant table and jumped to his feet.
‘Hey, Tom!’ He gestured expansively with his brandy-glass, his voice booming across the elegant room. ‘Fancy seeing you here. How are you, old mate?’ He dropped his voice and clapped Jane on her slender shoulder, his pudgy fingers curving possessively over her bare skin.
‘Gotta have a little chat to Tom—be back in a tick, honey. Why don’t you settle up in the meantime, Ry? Then Jane and I can toddle off and do our own thing. Thanks for fixing it up—I’d ask you to join us for our nightcap but you know what they say...three’s company and all that!’
As soon as he was out of earshot Jane leaned forward, her eyes aflame under furious black brows as she fired her suspicions point-blank at her target.
‘What exactly is it that you’re supposed to have “fixed up” for him?’ she demanded savagely. ‘What makes him think I would go anywhere with him? And how did he get the impression that I’m staying here?’
Ryan slid a flat hand towards her over the heavy white tablecloth. He lifted it to reveal a plastic key-card embossed with the Lakepoint logo. ‘Perhaps because you are. In room 703, to be precise.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Jane whispered, staring at the key as if it were a grenade primed to explode in her face.
‘Well, since he thinks you’re so classy you can hardly take him back to your sleazy flea-pit,’ he said contemptuously. ‘And in view of his divorce proceedings he can’t risk taking you to his room. Anyway, I thought you’d appreciate being able to conduct business on your own piece of turf, albeit a temporary one. This way you don’t have to check in or out, and when your “discussion” with Dan is concluded to his satisfaction you can simply discreetly disappear.’
The key blurred as a mist of red descended across her vision, a thick, suffocating blanket of rage and soul-shattering disappointment.
‘So this is your so-called business proposition?’ she choked, almost shaking with the fury of her emotions. ‘You want me to sleep with Dan as a favour to you, to sweeten some deal you have going with him? And what do I get out of it?’ she spat sarcastically. ‘Your gratitude and goodwill? Your agreement to stop hounding me?’
‘Oh, I had a far more professional arrangement in mind,’ he interrupted silkily, stroking the scar on his lip. ‘I did promise you a generous reward for your cooperation, didn’t I, Jane? And I always keep my promises...’
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of paper with his fingertips. Holding her eyes with his, he once again slid his hand towards her with a taunting slowness. This time, when he removed it, a cheque lay on the starched tablecloth between them. A bank cheque, Jane noticed in a single, sweeping glance. Her spine stiffened.
‘Money?’ Her voice dripped with disdain as she snatched it up to flaunt her scorn at his transparent attempt to humiliate her. ‘You expect me to prostitute myself for the sake of—’ Her eyes fell upon the amount and her icy tone cracked in disbelief at the number of zeros. ‘F-for ten thousand dollars?’
His cobalt gaze glowed with an unholy light as he greedily drank in the disintegration of her haughty mask, his dark, slashing features acquiring the recklessness of a devil incarnate as he purred seductively, ‘Tempting, isn’t it, Jane? Just think—you could earn more in one night than you ever did in a month...that’s if being a high-priced whore doesn’t go against your precious Sherwood principles!’
CHAPTER FIVE
JANE wanted to launch herself across the table and scratch his eyes out. She wanted to kick and bite and scream bitter invective, that would condemn him to everyone within hearing as a vile and despicable monster.
The only thing that stopped her was the certainty that that was how he expected her to react. His stillness gave him away; it was that particular straining stillness of a predator gathering himself for the kill.
She could feel him willing her to lose control. He wanted her to th
row a screaming, hysterical fit, to create another humiliating public scene that would set the seal on her already soiled reputation.
‘What’s the matter, Jane?’ he goaded softly. ‘Isn’t it enough?’
They both knew it was too much—far too much. Jane would have been able to shrug off the obvious insult of a few dollars with a disdainful laugh, but this kind of serious money was enough to give anyone pause, let alone a woman who was drowning in debt. All she had to do was sacrifice her pride, her self-respect...
Never!
And he knew it! He knew that she would fling his degrading suggestion back in his teeth!
A dangerous cocktail of alcohol and drugs spiked with anger swirled stormily through Jane’s veins. Colour streaked along her cheekbones, adding a fiery animation to her features as she lifted her chin and stabbed him with a poison-tipped glare.
‘You think I’d fall for a con like this? What’s to stop you cancelling the cheque tomorrow—if you haven’t already?’
She might have known he would provide no such easy escape from temptation. ‘As you can see, it’s a bank cheque, not one of my own...it’s as good as cash in your hand.’