Instructing an Heiress (7 page)

CK narrowed her eyes at him, annoyance kicking away her worry. "Why are we here?"

"Observation." He tapped on the passenger window at the front of the limo. The glass slid down and Ryan leaned over and handed in the bag of Chinese food. "Keep an eye on the Porsche, would you Tim?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Anderson," her driver said, cheerfully.

Ryan turned and headed for the bar. CK grabbed his arm and glanced warily up and down the street. "And we're here, why, exactly?"

"A lot of lonely men come here. These women are experienced. You'll learn a lot from watching how they work."

Her eyes widened with understanding. "You brought me here to learn from hookers?"

"Not hookers, hostesses. And you put me in charge, remember?"

"But..."

"You can call it quits, any time."

And lose Kazners? Her back stiffened. He was right. She couldn't let her fears of the unknown get the better of her. If Ryan thought she could learn something here, then she would give it her best shot.

Lifting her chin, she marched past him and pushed open the door.

The stink of stale beer, sweat and desperation burned her nose and washed down her throat. CK coughed and several pairs of eyes turned to study her through the smoky gloom.
 

Nervousness rose into her throat and she thought about her nice, safe limo waiting outside to take her home. This late in the middle of the week, that's where she should be. Home.
 

Ryan stepped up beside her, his energy radiating across her back in a strangely comforting way. "Stick close."

"This is not what I had in mind," she said under her breath, her gaze jumping from one scary person to the next. The low-ceilinged bar wasn't exactly packed, but crowded enough to tell her the owner did a fairly brisk business—of some kind.

"If you want to learn to hunt, don't be squeamish about the territory." he whispered back.

"I didn't say I was afraid." She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs. "I'm saying my sights are a little higher than this." She eyed a scraggly guy slumped over a glass of whisky. "A lot higher."
 

"Don't be a snob." Ryan nodded toward a booth in the back corner "Go sit down. I'll get us something to drink."
 

A bald guy sitting on a stool at the end of the bar glanced at Ryan, and then shifted his attention to CK. His predatory gaze moved over her body, the dragon tattoo covering his scalp shifting in the dim light like a living shadow.
 

Her stomach knotted up and she hurried toward the relative safety of the empty booth. As she slid in, she cast a nervous glance at Tattoo Guy. His gaze bore into hers and she looked away.

Her faith in Ryan's judgment was fading fast. Was this the type of place he liked to go? She never would have figured him as the kind of guy to seek out prostitutes. Why would he need to? There were more than enough women willing to sleep with him for free.

She watched him wading through the tables, a full glass in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. Calm expectation lay over his even features, again giving her the impression that he was very pleased with himself about something. Was her discomfort and disapproval of this place the cause? Was all this just a trick to get her to give up her plan?

Her stomach clenched as suspicion rolled through it. She knew Ryan didn't like this idea, but he'd agreed to help. He'd signed a contract. Was he trying to back out on her, now?

He gave her the soda and then settled across from her. "See that couple on the other side of the bar?"

"Red dress with half her bosom hanging out?" she observed.

"That's the one."

"Charming."

"Notice how she bends over to reach the pretzel bowl? Puts them right in his face." He set his bottle on the table and cupped his hands in front of his chest.

She raised her brows in disbelief. Ryan was rarely crude around her, even in college. Why the sudden switch?
 

"See how she casually lays her hand on his knee?" he observed. "Moves it right up his thigh straight to the goods. Bringing in some swizzle stick action, now, in and out of her mouth to seal the deal. I guarantee you he's so hard, his brain has completely shut down."

She watched him while he took a swallow of beer. It would be just like him to pull something like this. All for her own good, of course, at least in his mind. He always had possessed an annoying habit of over-protecting her, even when she made it clear that she didn't need it.
 

"If you're determined to go through with this, that's what you have to learn to do," he said, leaning against the back of the booth.
 

CK did her best to hide her annoyance. He was trying to shock her, the traitor. Not only that, but he obviously thought she was too unsophisticated to catch on!

She couldn't deny that she was naive about most things where men were concerned. But being stunted socially did not mean she was stupid.
 

"Should I take notes?" she asked, her tone bursting with false sincerity.

"Just watch and learn." He took another pull from his beer.

"Maybe if I knew
why
sticking my ta-tas in a man's face was so affective?"
 

Ryan choked.

"Knowing why would really help me embrace the concept," she said over his coughing fit. "Does it turn men as brainless as a woman taking down her hair and removing her jacket?"

He cleared his throat and gave her a stern look. "You're only here to watch and learn, not participate."
 

She lost interest in torturing him when the couple at the bar started kissing and looked as if they'd be going at it on top of a counter any minute. Their inappropriate display was embarrassing and fascinating all at the same time. To CK's amazement, when the man slid his hand up under the woman's skirt, an image of Ryan doing that to her flashed into her mind. A flare of excitement ignited deep in her belly at the thought.

She grabbed her glass and took a long drink, hoping the cool fizz of the Coke would settle her. It was his fault she was having ideas like that. Him and his darn smoldering eyes and sexy voice.
 

Even if all this was an elaborate plan to scare her off, she had to find a way to make it work for her. These crazy feelings for Ryan told her clearly that she needed to learn everything she could about men and then go out there and get her one. Not just to keep Kazners, but for her own sake. Twenty-seven was way past due.
 

"Who turned brainless?" Ryan asked.

"Hmm?"
 

"It was Junior, wasn't it?"

"You mean Steve?" CK watched the couple at the bar stumble their way toward the back of the room. "Blushed and everything. What's back there?"

"What did he say?"

The man and woman disappeared through a curtained doorway and CK reluctantly brought her focus back to Ryan. He didn't look so smug, now. In fact, he seemed down right pissed. "The usual." She shrugged.

He glowered at her and she went back to watching the doorway, her curiosity mounting when another groping couple slipped through the curtains." Ryan, are those people having sex back there?"

 
"I need another beer." He jumped up like his butt was on fire and headed for the bar.

She watched him, gratified that she'd managed to fluster him.
 

"This place isn't for you," a low, rough voice said just behind her left shoulder. "You need to go."

With a little squeak, CK spun around, sloshing soda onto the already sticky table.
 

The bald man with the tattoo laid his hand on the back of the booth and gazed down at her, his gray eyes cool. Tall and powerfully built, he looked younger than she'd first thought; no more than early thirties. A pink scar crossed the sharp line of his jaw an inch in front of his ear, turning a handsome face dangerous.
 

"You don't belong in a place like this," he said, quietly.

She slid deeper into the booth. "No?"
 

"Tell your boyfriend to take you home."

"He's not...." She hesitated and then gave him a measuring look. The concern flickering deep in his eyes seemed at odds with the rest of his demeanor. "A place like what?"
 

The dark slash of one of his eyebrows rose a fraction and the menace he was projecting eased off. "Hang around much longer and you'll find out."

Ryan appeared behind Tattoo Guy, his eyes blazing like a summer storm. "Can I help you with something?"

The other man moved away from the booth like he had all the time in the world. His gaze traveled over Ryan and a half smile touched his mouth. "She ain't your type."

Ryan took a step closer. "More yours, is that right?"

Tattoo Guy held up his hands, palms out. "The lady looked lonely. Thought I'd help her out."

"You okay, CK?" Ryan asked, his eyes staying locked on the other man.
 

A chill ran across her neck. "I'd like to go, please."
 

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. He just wanted to give us some friendly advice."

Tattoo Guy gave Ryan a tight smile and backed away. "Like she said. Nothing but a friendly chat."
 

He turned and sauntered toward the bar.
 

"What was that about?" Ryan asked, his eyes practically drilling a hole into the other man's back.

CK quickly gathered up her things and scooted out of the booth. "He said we should leave. Now."
 

"Why?"

"I think we should listen to him." She grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the door.
 

Ryan dug in, bringing them to a full stop. His gaze swept around the bar.

"Shit," he muttered. He snagged her around the waist and dragged her into a quick kiss, his warm, firm lips barely pressing against hers before they were gone. Need thrust through her, stunning her for a moment. She had no time to protest being manhandled before he'd hurried her through the bar and out the door.

The cool evening air hit her face and her thoughts began to rearrange themselves into coherent structures. "What just happened?" CK demanded.

"Raid," he said quietly, as he opened the back door of the Jaguar.
 

"Why did you kiss me?" she said as he bundled her into the limo.
 

"That guy was a cop. I saw at least four more scattered around in there. Maybe the homeless dude, too. I didn't want to blow their cover."

"But why did Tattoo Guy help us? We could've been like one of those other couples. He didn't know."

Ryan paused in the act of closing her door and his eyes flicked over her. "Sweetheart, really?"

An unaccountable thrill at his use of the affectionate word criss-crossed through her chest, mixing with her frustration. "We might have been anyone," she insisted.

"No one could miss it, especially not a cop who's seen all that these guys see."

"Darn it, Ryan. Stop talking in riddles."

His eyes softened and he reached in to cup her face in a light, fleeting touch that made her pulse jump into overdrive. "Take her home, Tim," he said to her driver as he shut the door.

CK jabbed at the window control as the sedan pulled sedately away from the curb. The glass glided down at half the rate she needed it to. Ryan was almost to his car!

"What did he see?" she shouted at him as they passed.

He paused, half in and half out of his Porsche.

"Innocence! It's written all over you!" He slammed his door and sped away, sirens screaming in the distance.

*
 
*
 
*

He was an ass.

Ryan pushed the weights up slowly, welcoming the way they made his pecs burn. He'd never regretted turning his third guest room into a gym. A hard workout was one of the best ways he knew to burn off frustration, other than sex. Or a bar fight.

As he finished his set, he tried not to think about last night, instead letting the occasional comments from his friends flow around him. The five of them had been together since they were nineteen and not much had changed about any of them. Brad was as flashy as ever and always on the make, Jackson the cool-headed philosopher of the group, Ajax lived in another dimension as far as Ryan could tell, and Todd had always been the observant, sensitive one, especially after losing his wife to cancer two years ago.
 

Their friendship meant a lot to him, just like CK's did. Guilt dug at him. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to getting her thrown in jail.

Since when had The Bait Shop gone illegal? Friendly women encouraging heavy drinking and giving the occasional lap dance, sure, but a prostitution ring? In Brooklyn?

His stomach twisted at the thought of CK getting hurt. That surprise had been unpleasant enough, until the crazy girl had texted him at midnight thanking him for everything she'd learned and asking when the next lesson was!

She'd turned out to be tougher to derail than he'd expected. Thank God, that morning a new strategy had come to him—one that would scare the hell out of her without putting her in danger. His friends being at loose ends while they burned off vacation days had been the catalyst for the idea.
 

Tonight he planned to put them to good use.
 

"I can't believe you want us to meet CK," Todd said between breaths as he pounded away on the treadmill. "The girl you put your life on hold for...who you never told you were rich...and who's mysteriously never available to get together when we're in town."

"The
smart
one," Jackson said from the nautilus, his dark skin gleaming with sweat. "Ajax thinks she's an alien."

"You can never tell, man," Ajax said from the corner where he'd dragged in a chair from the game room. "They shape-shift."

Ryan grunted as he settled the weights and sat up. "She's been working too hard, lately. Just want to show her a good time."
And let the rest play out naturally.