Classified (9 page)

Well, he was onto her now.

Surprisingly he found her crashed on the couch.

Her blond hair glistened against the red and blue silk pillows. Completely relaxed by sleep, the feminine details she tried so valiantly to mask with toughness were breathtaking. Especially the lips. His mouth watered at the memory of her taste.

He shook his head. So much for having his head together. Yeah, he was really onto her now.

The French doors stood open. Theirs was an invitation he couldn’t decline, particularly since standing around in here and gawking at her would be detrimental. He walked out onto the balcony and surveyed the street. This assignment had given every impression of being simple. More an exercise in intelligence gathering than anything. But the whole situation had taken a wildly unexpected turn.

Who else would be looking for the goods on this enigma who called himself Slade Keaton? The timing felt like far too much of a coincidence. One more to add to the growing mountain of evidence that Slade Keaton was not who or what he presented himself to be.

Levi glanced back at his new partner. Was she working for Keaton? If the past few hours were any indication, she was the perfect ploy to ensure Levi was unable to accomplish his mission. Apprehension mounted inside him, layering the doubts and piling on more questions. Though he couldn’t deny she had been helpful. Getting out of that hole would have been impossible without her assistance. Then again, he wouldn’t have been in that damned hole if not for her poking around in his assignment. Fernandez had warned Levi that someone else was in Pozos asking after Keaton and that she had arrived after Levi, making her presence keenly suspicious. Putting any faith in Fernandez’s word, however, would be like leaping off this balcony and expecting a sudden gust of wind to break the fall.

In her defense, Casey had gotten Fernandez’s men off their tail in an admittedly risky maneuver back there on that deserted stretch of road. One that had put her own life in jeopardy as well as Levi’s. Then again, no one appeared to have been injured in the exchange of gunfire or the final showdown. Fernandez’s men were, lucky for Levi and Casey, seriously bad shots.

Then again, had the whole scene been just one big production for Casey to gain Levi’s unconditional trust? Could she really be working with Keaton and Fernandez to throw Levi off track?

Where had she come from? Who did she work for? Why show up at the same time he did and allow her presence to be known? Someone as skilled as she was was surely capable of operating beneath the radar of her mark.

So many questions. No answers.

Levi turned to study the sleeping woman.

Who the hell was she? He’d asked that question over and over and he still didn’t know.

More importantly, what power did she possess that had left him so totally…powerless?

Club Delicia, 9:45 p.m.

“We should split up.”

Levi wasn’t sure that was a good idea. His gaze swept over his partner yet again, no matter that he mentally kicked himself each time he made that monumental mistake. He resisted the urge to lick his lips. Casey Manning worked hard to show just how tough she was. She despised any indication of weakness. That had to be the reason her appearance tonight got to him this way. It was so opposite of the Casey he’d come to know these last twelve hours. Strange how so much could happen so fast.

The red dress hugged her body snugly, showcasing every delectable asset. Sky-high red stilettos added another mile to her shapely legs. He swallowed against the tightening sensation in his throat. She’d tucked up her hair in one of those sexy, loose styles that begged to be undone. His fingers itched to delve into that silky mass and hold her close as his lips got more intimately acquainted with hers.

“Stark.” She elbowed him. “Did you hear me?”

He dragged himself back to reality, to the woman he didn’t know and couldn’t trust. “Sorry. Truth is, that dress keeps distracting me.” No need to lie. She wasn’t blind. “I’m not a big fan of red,” he added just to make himself feel better, “but it looks…nice on you.”

Casey smoothed a hand over the sleek fabric. “Good. That was the intent.” She frowned. “Not to distract you, of course.” She surveyed the crowd in the enormous room. “Them. The dress is for them.”

Levi tugged at his collar and mumbled, “Lucky them.” A trip to the hotel boutique had outfitted her with that IQ-lowering dress. She had insisted he wear a suit. Black jacket, black trousers and black shirt. Unlike her, he would fade into the background.

“We splitting up or what?” She searched the mob of faces. “Someone out there has to know Alayna personally. Friends, coworkers. I intend to find them.”

“As long as we maintain a visual on each other.” He would be able to spot her anywhere in the crowd. Sure there were other women in the room wearing red, but not one who stood out the way Casey did. This step of the mission included having each other’s back. The danger element had already reared its ugly head twice over.

“You’ve got my number,” she reminded him. “Let me know if you need me and I’ll do the same.”

The service was still a little spotty as far as calls went but sending or receiving texts was no problem. Casey melted into the throng. Levi felt torn between following her and doing his job. Every male in the club would want to know her. Women were abducted every day, particularly down here. Again, he was out of his mind. If he’d ever met a woman who could take care of herself, it was Casey.

Levi checked his cell phone to ensure service hadn’t dropped completely. Later he would call Victoria. She was the reason he was here, not Casey Manning. He had to remember that.

Levi threaded through the fringes of the swarm, staying close to the bar that curved around the room for as far as he could see. The club’s dome-shaped roof made for a soaring ceiling, and tremendous acoustical problems, he expected. Plush gold fabric lined the walls and ceiling in an effort to alleviate the issue. Mosaic tile covered the floor in a pattern of reds, golds and blues, at least the parts he could see. He wondered if tonight’s occupancy had exceeded the fire code or if Acapulco even had one.

People dressed in every manner of attire flanked the bar and tables. A large, glittering stage ringed the center of the space. But the most troubling feature was the balcony that crowned the room, high above the stage. An equally thick crowd swayed to the music on that level, too. Anyone wanting to keep an eye on someone below would have the perfect vantage for it. Grand staircases, one to the west and one to the east, flowed upward, providing access to that area. Problem was getting through the crowd to reach the stairs and then weaving between the clutches of partiers hanging out on the steps. It was a strategic nightmare.

He marked Casey at the bar on the other side of the room. Men had gathered around her as if she were the star of the show and had generously offered autographs. Watching the attention they showered on her made his lips tighten. She laughed and tossed that luscious mane of hair. He shook his head. It was another blonde that he needed to be on the lookout for.

He and his partner—he glanced at her again—had toured the area around the club and hotel most of the afternoon, pretending to be just another pair of tourists here for the pearl-white beaches and explosive nightlife. She’d worn a more conservative pale blue dress today to fit the profile of doting girlfriend. Even then, sans the red dress, he’d had trouble staying focused. At that time, his distraction had fit with his cover. Too bad it hadn’t been just an act.

Tonight was a different story. He was a single man on the hunt and he needed to step more fully into character. Like Casey. Another look confirmed she was deep into character. Irritation sprouted deep in his gut.

Focus on the assignment, Stark.

They’d learned a few details about Alayna today. She lived nearby but no one could say just where. She owned Delicia, having become the owner only three years ago. Before that, as far back as ten years, most who knew her recalled that she had been employed at the club. None were aware of her last name, only her show which likely meant that Alayna was not her real name. Fernandez, it seemed, had gotten most of the details about her correct.

So far, if they’d had a tail, Levi hadn’t spotted anyone. That would be good news if he were on his A game. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly at his best. He may have missed more than he was prepared to admit.

He paused at the bar long enough to order a sparkling water with a twist of lime. Time to step up to the plate and do what he’d come here to do. Find the truth, or as much available information as possible, about Keaton. Whoever this Alayna was, these were the people who knew her best.

Applause drowned out the music. Levi faced the stage to see a gaudy swing lowering slowly from the ceiling. A woman dressed in a sequined costume, long shimmering legs crossed, waved to her adoring fans. Blond hair streamed like ribbons of silk down her shoulders.

So this was the infamous Alayna.

Her feet touched the stage floor and she hopped out of the swing. The crowd went wild as a host of other dancers rose on platforms from beneath the stage and took positions around the star. The music evolved into a sultry, evocative rhythm and the show began.

Levi scanned the faces where he’d last marked Casey’s position, but he didn’t see her. He swam through the river of bodies, moving around the club in a pattern that left no niche unexplored. Where the hell was she?

The performance on the stage continued while his personal drama played out below. Why would she disappear on him now? Their mark was finally in eyesight. Had Casey been waiting for just the right moment to ditch him? Worry and frustration fought for top billing. He’d known that trusting her was a risk. He’d hoped to get a better feel for whether or not be could rely on her but that hadn’t happened. Instead, he’d spent all his time distracted by her beauty and her unpredictable actions. She had kept him guessing down to the wire.

And he’d danced just like a puppet on the end of that dangling wire. He’d waffled back and forth about trusting her. He had been a fool.

Levi knew one thing about Casey Manning for an absolute certainty. She was a master at distraction. Nothing she did could be trusted as real.

Too bad he’d come to that realization just a little too late.

Fernandez had been right about something else, Levi realized. Alayna was blonde, yes, and she was also beautiful. Like Casey. Was she a master of distraction as well? No one questioned knew her last name, he remembered. Some had lived in this area of the city their entire lives and they knew almost nothing about the woman’s personal existence.

Levi set his drink on a passing waiter’s tray. He turned all the way around, looking at but not really seeing the mass of faces. He only had eyes for one.

What did Keaton have to do with this place or this Alayna? The music suddenly sounded deafening. The notion that he’d been had, that this entire exercise had been a ruse, pounded in Levi’s skull.

“There you are.”

He turned to the woman who’d tugged on his sleeve. His partner. And just like that, he was back to square one.

Casey draped her arms around his neck. “Dance with me, Stark.” Her smile dazzled him, drew him in like a beacon in the dark.

His arms went around her small waist; his hands settled on the curve of her bottom. He searched her eyes, her face, in hopes of finding some hint of the truth.

But she would never let him see beyond the charade she had plotted for him.

Casey tiptoed and pressed her cheek to his. His ability to breathe fled along with the last of his good sense. “I found her personal manager,” she whispered into his ear. Her arms tightened around his neck. “I was told he’s closer to her than her own mother.”

“Mother? She has family here?” If Alayna was Keaton’s sister, that would make the mother his as well. Casey’s hair caressed Levi’s lips, dividing his concentration. He refused to let the sensation distract him the way everything else about her did.

“This guy didn’t know the mother.” Casey twined the fingers of one hand into his hair. He tensed. “But he mentioned a mother repeatedly and insisted the personal manager is the key to getting close to Alayna.”

“Is this personal manager interested in getting closer to you?” Levi winced at how the question sounded. Intensely possessive. Riddled with jealousy. The way her body was exchanging signals with his it was a flat-out miracle his brain still functioned at all.

She sighed, her breath whispering across his ear. He trembled. She was killing him. The song ended and relief attempted to invade his taut muscles, chasing away the rigidity.

But she didn’t let go. She pulled him even closer and pressed those lush lips to his already oversensitized ear. “Afraid I’m not his type.”

The hot, wild tension she’d wound so tightly released in one swift whoosh. He drew back, stared into those alluring blue eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

She chewed at that full bottom lip, making him ache to savor that same spot. His mouth watered.

“He’ll be far more interested in you.”

The seductive fog of intense yearning cleared instantly. His first instinct was to accuse her of only reconnecting with him for that reason. Otherwise she would have gotten what she could from this manager guy and left Levi still muddling over his next move and wondering where the hell she was.

But they were here to get information. What did the reason or how it happened matter?

It didn’t.

“Introduce me.”

Casey took his hand. “This way.”

They cut through the crowd, her soft fingers curled around his making him want to pull her back in his arms and just let their bodies take control. As insane as it was, he didn’t care at the moment whether he could trust her, he just wanted to touch her. How had she cast such a spell on him in a mere twenty-four hours? The sensual music slithered from the speakers, snaking around his chest and squeezing out the air. The shadows created by the mood lighting were filled with couples seeking pleasure and no one cared because that was why they were here.

Casey’s destination appeared to be an exclusive sitting area beyond the stage. A cloud of velvety colorful drapes hugged the white leather sofa and chairs, providing an element of privacy. As Casey approached, leading him like a disobedient puppy, the man seated in the center of the crowd raised a hand and those around him scattered like butterflies, flitting into the swelling crowd of partiers.

“Jazz, this is Stark.” She tugged him down to the sofa next to her. “Levi Stark. He’s the movie producer I told you about.”

Levi schooled his expression. Movie producer? He guessed he wasn’t just the single guy looking for a good time anymore.

Jazz—what a name—offered his bejeweled hand. “Welcome to Delicia, Mr. Stark.”

The music was softer here, allowing for conversation at a normal decibel. Levi shook the man’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m certain.” Jazz was a head shorter than Levi, a little pudgy around the middle and whatever hair hadn’t been robbed by male pattern baldness he kept shaved. The saying that the clothes made the man was particularly true in this case. Though he was quite ordinary-looking, his attire glittered almost as radiantly as that of his employer.

“Don’t kill me, Stark,” Casey said, feigning repentance, “but I told Jazz that you came to Acapulco scouting for a location for your next movie.”

She couldn’t have prepped him for this encounter?

“Tell me about your movie,” Jazz encouraged. “I’m so intrigued. Of course, you must know,” he said to Casey, “we get every manner of celebrity here. Alayna has entertained them all, from rock legends to princes.”

Levi exchanged a look with Casey who offered no help at all. “It’s a musical,” he announced in light of where they were and with whom he hoped to gain a meeting. If Casey had already suggested anything differently and didn’t clue him in, Levi might just strangle her. A glance at her throat had his gaze sweeping down to investigate the enticing cleavage revealed by that damned red dress. With great effort, he swung his attention back to Alayna’s personal manager. “I’m interested in a setting very much like this one.”

“Do you have a star in mind already?”

This Jazz character spoke perfect English with positively no discernible accent. “Actually,” Levi began, hoping this would take the conversation in the right direction, “I find Alayna quite striking. Her voice. Her dance skill and, unquestionably, her photogenicity.” Was that even a word? As long as it sounded authentic.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Jazz practically purred.

“She is.” Levi felt confident a real producer who considered beautiful women all day long for various projects wouldn’t go overboard with the compliments. “Are you authorized to discuss her availability?”

Jazz smiled. “I am the only person authorized to discuss her, period.”