17
Mercy
I smoothedthe skirt of my dress as I stepped out of the car Jasper had sent. The black marble walls of the posh bar it’d stopped in front of gleamed, and I caught a hint of jazz seeping through the broad front window.
The man who’d driven me motioned briskly to the door. “Mr. Herald is already waiting for you. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
He’d already patted me down for weapons before I’d gotten in the car. He’d been brisk and efficient about that too, but his detachment hadn’t comforted me. It’d given me the impression of him carefully checking over a package he was supposed to deliver for his boss’s exclusive use.
He ushered me into the bar and over to a large booth at the back of the room. Everything inside had a reddish cast to it from the mood-lighting. It made the three men waiting for us at the table look even more ominous than they would have anyway.
The two who sat at the closest ends of the booth, dressed casually but with a noticeable lump of a gun at their hips, got up at our approach. Their eyes lingered on the plunging neckline of my dress before skimming over the rest of me. One prowled around me, and I could practically feel him ogling my ass. I resisted the urge to ram my elbow backward and “accidentally” clock him in the gut.
But most of my attention stayed on the man still seated at the back of the booth, his eyes roving over me just as avidly from there. This was Jasper Herald.
My first thought was that he resembled a pig. He’d slicked his graying hair close to his scalp, but no amount of gel could hide the fact that it was thinning, letting hints of the pale, pinkish skin beneath show through. The swell of his portly frame filled out an expensive-looking suit tailored to his bulk, and his wide nose was slightly upturned. He wore a thick gold chain on his neck and a Rolex watch on his wrist.
He smiled broadly at me and got up when he must have been satisfied with his men’s close examination. They hadn’t blinked twice at Anthea’s hair pin, thank God.
“You must be Mercy Katz,” he said in a jovial voice that sent a shiver over my skin. Did he think I was happy to be here? He held out his arms as if he expected me to give him a hug in greeting.
Uh, no, that would definitely set the wrong precedent for this “date.” I lowered my head in acknowledgment instead. “That’s me. Mr. Noble sends his regards. I’m looking forward to spending the evening with you.”
The last bit was a lie, of course, but I was trying to keep Jasper a little placated. My attempt clearly fell short. His smile stayed in place, but a cold glint entered his eyes as he lowered his arms.
He settled for taking my hand and kissing the back of it. Cloying cologne wafted off him. I had to tense my muscles to keep from recoiling, especially after he flicked his tongue over my knuckle before withdrawing.
What the fuck? Was he just trying to get a reaction out of me, or did he think there was something sexy about that?
I retrieved my hand as graciously as I could manage, clenching my fingers against the impulse to wipe his saliva off on the thigh of my dress. My smile felt rigid on my face, but at least it was still there.
“I hope you enjoy this establishment,” Jasper said. “It’s one of the many properties I have a stake in within and around this city.”
“It’s very atmospheric,” I said. “I like the music.”
His smile managed to widen. “Excellent. I have a feeling we’re going to have quite a memorable night. If you’d join me upstairs? There’s a private suite reserved for my use where we can indulge in each other’s company undisturbed by the other customers. It even has its own bar for our use.”
And it’d mean he could have his way with me without anyone seeing. I bit my tongue against spitting out a “Hell no” that would have ruined Ezra’s deal before the night had even started. “Sure, that sounds wonderful.” On opposite day, maybe.
Either Jasper didn’t pick up on the lack of enthusiasm in my tone or, I wouldn’t be surprised, he didn’t give a shit. He might even have preferred me to be unwilling. He set his pudgy hand on the small of my back and guided me toward a set of wrought-iron stairs. They led to a landing with a row of doors overlooking the rest of the bar. His hand stayed against me the whole way up the stairs, making my flesh crawl with every step.
This wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. Everything Anthea and the guys had uncovered confirmed that. I just had to figure out how to divert him before he got to the point where I couldn’t tolerate what he was doing.
The landing was lit with small hexagonal spots of light. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in places this swanky, and I might have appreciated the interior design if not for the man next to me. I could feel his impatience coiling around me as his gaze stayed on me. He wasn’t even watching where he was going.
Uneasiness churned in my stomach. I turned to him, giving me an excuse to twist out of range of his hand, and attempted the sort of practiced smile I’d seen Rowan dazzle people with. “So, Mr. Herald—”
“Call me Jasper, sweetheart,” he said. “And let’s save the conversation for when we’ve gotten comfortable.”
I nodded stiffly and kept my mouth shut.
At the end of the landing, a server dressed in a tux was waiting for us. He showed us into a room with a plush divan, a low, black lacquered table in front of it, and a bar that was stocked up with all kinds of alcohol.
The server swept his arm toward the divan, “Please take your seat. I’ll have your drinks ready shortly. Do you have any preferences?”
“Something strong and sweet, easy on the ice,” Jasper replied, looking right at me. His gaze traveled up my body. He was almost salivating by the time he got up to my chest. Bile rose up my throat at the look on his face. “What’ll you have, darling?”
I’d have him cutting out the sweet talk if I’d had a real choice about it. I settled for picking a drink—nothing too strong, since I wanted to keep my mind and my reflexes sharp. “A mojito, please, easy on the rum.”