Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (15 page)

Rafe was staring vacantly, the crease between his knitted brows was deep. He was clearly distracted. Nicki felt lost, left out. The clumsy silence between them was a far cry from the wild sex scene just a few hours before. It reminded her how fleeting, how uncertain her relationship with Rafe was. She grimaced. If you could call what they had a relationship. Not wanting to further expose her ragged heart to more pain, she stood up and clung to the back of her chair for support.

“You’re exhausted, Rafe. And…I…I’m tired as well. I….”

He looked up at her, startled as though just now aware of her presence. His reaction cut her like a knife. She moved quickly to the door. She couldn’t get away fast enough. She longed to be in her room far away from this hurtful man. Too late she remembered he’d locked the door. She jerked on the handle and groaned in frustration.

Rafe was already out of his chair when she let out a frustrated cry. He pulled her into his arms. When she resisted, he held her tighter.

Tipping her chin up, he forced her to look at him.

“Damn, Nicki. I’m sorry. You’re right. I am exhausted and frustrated as hell that I still haven’t figured out who Volkov is. But Princess, I didn’t ask you here to discuss business.”

Seeing the uncertainty and pain in her eyes, he felt a pang of guilt. Why did he tell her to meet him? Why couldn’t he for once have left well enough alone? But he knew why. It wasn’t a mystery. He couldn’t be within ten feet of her without wanting her. Wanting her closer. Hell, wanting to be inside of her. But it was more than sheer carnal lust. Feeling her soft curvy body and smelling that musky fragrance that went straight to his errant prick, the image of her on the edge of the sofa flooded him. And yeah, he did know why he needed her here, why he had to know what he dreaded knowing.

He held her close, stroking her back, running his hands over her bottom, marveling at her perfect ass. He murmured soft words until he felt her begin to relax, begin to move in closer, melding herself to him.

Within minutes, they both were panting for air, his gasps as heated as hers. He snagged a deeper breath then nuzzled against her ear.

“I have to ask you something, Princess. Something I’ve been wondering about.”

She looked up at him, wariness filling her eyes.

“What? What do you want to know?”

He forced himself to smile, to reassure her. To act as though his question weren’t critically important.

He nipped at her ear and smiled when she trembled in response.

“Remember when you told me about your Boomslang snake? The tattoo, not the necklace your father gave you?”

She ducked down and buried her face against his chest, the heat of her cheeks scorching him through his shirt.

She nodded, then whispered.

“I almost forgot. I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I didn’t think about it at the time.”

He choked out a nonchalant laugh.

“Yeah, Princess. A warning was in order. I damn near had a heart attack.”

She jerked up with a questioning frown then blushed a deeper pink.

“You…you didn’t like it?”

“Like it? Damn, Princess, since I saw it I’ve been trying to remember when I’ve ever seen a more erotic sight.”

She peeked up at him shyly, then meeting his eyes she gave him a saucy smile.

“I’m glad you liked it. I…I love it. It makes me feel special.”

“Yeah, Princess. But ‘special’ is a bit of an understatement. How about the single sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen in my life?”

He held her tight against him fighting the urge to kiss her, then scoffed at his duplicity. Kiss her was the last thing he wanted to do. No, dammit, what he wanted to do was toss her on his desk, rip off her pants, spread her legs, and get a hell of a lot more acquainted with that damn snake.

He forced himself to ask the question that had tormented him for the last three hours.

His voice sounded hoarse, strange to his own ears.

“You told me, Princess, that no man had ever seen your tattoo.”

She frowned then looked down and whispered. “Um, no. You are the first.”

He choked back a dismayed groan then dug a deeper hole.

“That kinda begs another question, Princess. Does that mean you are a virgin?”

He held her tighter when she tried to pull away. He swallowed hard and said a silent prayer which wasn’t easy given that long ago he had stopped believing in a god of any kind.

Nicki wriggled out of his tight hold, putting a couple of inches between them.

She scoffed, assuming an aggrieved tone.

“Really, Rafe. I’m twenty-six years old, for God’s sake. What do you take me for? Some innocent know nothing? Besides that is a very personal question. Frankly, it is none of your business.”

Rafe managed to keep his voice about a hundred degrees cooler than he felt.

“Wrong on both counts, Princess. I didn’t ask how old you are. I’ve seen your god dammed birth certificate. And given what we almost did in this very room a few hours ago, whether or not you are a virgin is most certainly my business.”

At his stern response, confusion and fear warred across her face. Then true to form, she tossed her head, a dismissive gesture.

“I didn’t realize you didn’t ‘do’ virgins, Mr. Boudin. I understood that you did anything and everything.”

Ignoring her combative response, he said, “I guess that answers my question, Nicki.”

At her pained expression, he softened his tone. “And yeah, Nicki. It does make a difference. A big difference to me.”

She breathed in deep. “Well, I…do… I mean I have…”

He frowned refusing to let himself hope.

“You have what?”

“I do have a vibrator.”

He stared at her then barked out a huge roaring guffaw. Ignoring her startled reaction, he convulsed with one peal of laughter after another.

After a long moment, he managed to control himself. Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he grinned at her.

“How big?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“How big is the vibrator?”

A glimmer of understanding shadowed her face.

She tossed him a haughty glare and snapped, “Why? What does that matter?”

He shook his head, trying hard to keep from grinning.

“It matters, Princess. It matters a whole hell of a lot.”

Chapter 17

Nicki stood at the podium in the front of the darkened room. Methodically she clicked from one slide to the next, stopping to explain the significance of each. At least in the beginning, the men were quiet, respectfully waiting for her conclusions. When she finished, Grayson threw her an admiring glance.

“I’ve got to ask. What was deciding clue, the breakthrough.”

“To be honest, it’s a girl thing. The shoes.”

Caleb spoke for the group.

“What the hell, what shoes?”

Nicki exchanged a knowing look with Katya.

“Do you want to tell him, Katya?”

Katya smiled. “Well, I’ve never had a pair of Jimmy Choo’s in my life, but like every woman, I’ve lusted after them. But I think it was more the fact that they all wore the same three designer shoes that made the connection for me. But I have to admit, until Nicki walked me through the whole presentation I didn’t get it. She is simply brilliant.”

“Here, here!” Caleb shouted and the rest of the men murmured in response.

Rafe nodded and took a long drag off his cigarette.

“Humor me, Nicki. Go through it again, summarize. And then let’s figure out how we’re going to put all your instincts to work.”

Nicki had avoided Rafe since he walked her to her room a scant three hours before. She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to be furious that he found her “virgin” state hilarious. After a long hot shower, though, she admitted to herself what was really troubling—that he was turned off by her inexperience. Remembering her dumb remark about the vibrator, she flushed. What had made her say something so infantile? As though a man like Rafe would be impressed that she used a sex toy. Once again, with a silly remark she’d confirmed that she “wasn’t the kind of woman Rafe fucked.”

He did try to make it up to her. Taking advantage of his mirth, she’d made it to the office door, unlocked it and was half way to her room when he caught up with her. She had to admit he was kind, almost sweet. He apologized for laughing at her. Insisted that he wasn’t making fun of her, just that he’d been taken back by her Boomslang snake.

Looking in the mirror at the gorgeous coiled serpent decorating her body, she refused to be embarrassed. She loved it and would not let Rafe’s reaction dissuade her. It was sexy, dammit and so was she. If he’d just give her a chance. God, the way he made her feel. The things he’d whispered he would do to her. Glancing in the mirror, she was startled to see her nipples harden just thinking about his wicked tongue licking them, sucking them.

~~~

“Nicki?”

Rafe’s low command shocked her back to the present.

“Please, Nicki, if you will, summarize your findings.”

Nicki clung to the podium, her fingers white with the strain, feeling the incandescent heat rise in her cheeks. She chanced a quick glance at him. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, a wicked twinkle gleamed in his eyes. No question, he knew what she was thinking about. His cocky certainty that that he found her “innocence” her crush on him amusing, galvanized her.

She tossed her head and swallowed hard.

“I’m pleased to summarize, Rafe.”

She looked away, instead focusing on the men sitting in front of her.

“I need you all to understand. I know where these girls shop, the things they buy, what they do for fun, and the men they seek. I even think I know where they met. Not the exact place, but the setting. I have a very good idea of who took them and how he enticed them. What I don’t know is where they are. That’s where I need your help.”

She looked around the table, gratified that the men were regarding her seriously, their solemn expressions confirming the gravity of the situation. Only Caleb’s wink, and Grayson’s peering down at his notes, confirmed that the two of them caught the silent exchange between her and Rafe.

Drawing herself up to her full height, she looked at each of the men in turn as she spoke. She didn’t hide her intensity or her concern. She knew perhaps better than any of them except Katya and Rafe, what the young girls were likely being subjected to. She also knew they were running out of time.

“In summary, the girls are all spoiled daughters of powerful wealthy men. They spend their days preparing for their nights. They shop for clothes—and shoes. They spend twelve hour days in expensive spas ensuring that there isn’t an inch of their lovely bodies that hasn’t been buffed, massaged and lasered to perfection. They pay three hundred dollars to have their hair trimmed, and their clothes budget would support a family of four in grand style.

“The reason the shoes are important is they symbolize the excess, the easy availability of all the toys, good and bad, that gobs of money can buy.”

Nicki flashed her audience a guilty grin.

“I’ll admit it. I also wear Jimmy Choo shoes and when I’m down, nothing except perhaps salted caramel truffle Haagen Das ice cream perks me up like a pair of Manolo Blahnik five-inch high heels.”

She smiled at the appreciative laughter and shook her head in mock dismay when Caleb hollered, “Yeah, hotstuff. When I’m ‘down’ nothing perks me ‘up’ like thinking about what those five-inch heels do to those sexy legs of yours!”

A chorus of groans greeted his outrageous remark.

“Continue, Nicki.” Rafe’s sharp interjection silenced the room.

Nicki glanced at him, surprised to see him glaring at Caleb, his eyes smoldering. Caleb gave a nonchalant shrug and winked at Nicki. She gave him a sweet smile in return.

“In addition to shoes and spa days, this is how the girls entertain themselves.”

Clicking on the computer, she brought up a screen filled with drug paraphernalia. Pointing to the mounds of white powder, she said, “This cocaine in all its forms is the finest ‘blow’ money can buy. Count on it. And know that young girls who spend $500.00 on a pair of shoes won’t settle for anything but the finest, highest-octane drugs available. And this is how they get it.”

Nicki brought up a picture of the six mug shots that had terrorized Bernie Schwartz.

“Don’t misunderstand. These aren’t the guys who entice ‘our’ girls. But they are the dealers, the thugs who have access to the kind of drugs our girls use. And, they likely are the men who are ‘guarding’ our girls.”

At the conclusion, she flashed the headshots of the three girls up on the screen. She wanted the men to focus on them. She wanted them to see what she saw.

“Rather than seeing spoiled beautiful young women who have everything in the world that money can buy, see if you can see what I see. Look at their eyes. Think about where they are. What is happening to them now. These are vulnerable girls, caught in a trap of their own making. They are facing hideous pain and fear. The only thing between them and certain rape, torture, and death… is us.”

She let the silence settle over the room, then brought up another screen. Five clean cut, well dressed young men grinned haughtily at the camera. Wealth was written all over their indulged countenances.

“Here is how we will try to rescue them. Whether they want to be or not, these young men are the key to finding our girls. These are their boyfriends, the ones the parents approve of. Some of them are good kids, some are not. All of them have more money than God. And all of them fly from city to city to attend the parties where our girls met.”

“Apparently, our kidnapper doesn’t like young boys or these men would be missing too. I’ve tracked their flight schedules and they match the girls’. In the last six weeks our three girls and these five young men have been in six different cities attending parties the likes of which none of us except maybe Rafe and Caleb have seen. The difference is that the boys returned home. Our three girls—and no doubt others—didn’t make it back. Our job is to blanket the country, interview every one of these guys and if necessary beat the information out of them. That can only be done in person, by men who look and act like all of you.”