Tara (12 page)

“Tara.” She filled in and he smiled.

Alaric crossed his arms as he watched, his face expressionless as Tara put her back to the wall and Claude moved behind the camera. He pressed a few buttons and then looked over the camera at her. “Smile.” She did and the camera flashed - once, twice, three times.

She blinked as the ghost images of the flash floated in her vision, and she had the urge to rub her eyes but stopped when she remembered all of her makeup.

Claude gestured to the camera and Tony stepped forward to take it. “Make a British passport, give it a few stamps so it doesn't look so new. Make sure the most recent is Italy, we don't need that mistake again.” Tony nodded as he grabbed the camera, still silent, and walked into the room at the side, which held all kinds of equipment. When the door shut again it was almost invisible in the white walls of the office.

“Thank you, Claude. When will it be ready? And what do I owe you?” Alaric stepped forward and Claude waved a hand at him, not taking his eyes off her.

Claude smiled and pulled his chair to the edge of his desk before sitting down. “Come here, Tara.” He pointed at the floor in front of him and her stomach did a flip, but her smile came back automatically. She'd taken two steps forward when Alaric grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“I asked you what we owe you.” Alaric spoke through his teeth, and she knew that everything was about to go wrong if she didn’t curb whatever protective streak he had summoned up.

“I'd say that amount is currently very negotiable.” Claude smiled as his eyes devoured her. He was making it pretty clear that he wanted her, but Alaric's hand just tightened on her arm.

“Alaric, it's okay –” she whispered, but he held up his other hand and she stopped talking.

“It's not negotiable, Claude.” His voice was on edge, and Tara tried to talk again to calm the situation down, but his grip quickly bordered on painful. She felt herself detaching from everything on instinct, she could do this like she'd done a million times before. She could please Claude, make him happy, and smooth the trouble brewing between them - but Alaric turned and glared at her as if he knew what she was thinking. He was actually angry when he spoke again, “Go outside, Tara. Now.”

His eyes were blazing, and the direct command put her teeth on edge. From her experience with him this was completely out of character, especially after his rant about her being a
real person
. Having him grab her, order her around, treat her like everyone else usually did pissed her off. Her old temper flared in her stomach and she did the only thing that would really push his buttons.

She pulled her arm from his grip and gave a half bow, half curtsy since she was in pants, and kept her gaze on the floor as she spoke in her most obedient tone, “Of course, sir.” Then she turned and walked down the hall, her heels clicking evenly on the floor until she reached the door. Pushing it open harder than necessary she stepped out into the dark of the club. The beat and pulse of the music slammed into her again, sparking in her blood like music always did for her. Tara growled under her breath as she took in the sea of shifting bodies, the clash and clatter of the song and voices and laughter.

If he wanted to act like another one of her asshole masters – fine. But she was going to dance.

Chapter Fourteen

Alaric's teeth clenched as Tara flipped her personality again. Playful, beautiful, flirt was gone. The girl who had walked out of the room had been subservient and obedient.

Sir
.

He couldn’t believe she’d called him that. He wanted to go after her and shake her, but instead he turned his eyes back to the person who had originally pissed him off. “What the bloody hell is your problem, Claude?”

Claude raised an eyebrow and pointed at the door. “My problem?” Claude wasn’t smiling anymore. “Alexander, or is it
Alaric
, I'm not the one bringing a girl like
that
into his so-called friend's club.”

His stomach twisted as his real name came out of Claude's mouth. That was his fault though, he should have told her not to use it. “So I told her my name was Alaric, what do you care?”

“I care because you brought her into
my
club.” Claude dropped his pointer finger down on his desk.

“You seemed just fine with her being here a second ago.” Alaric spoke through his teeth, remembering how he had ordered her around, and Tara had just walked towards him. If he hadn't stopped her –

“That was a test. For both of you. And it proved my point.” He gestured towards the door Tara had walked out of. “That girl would have done anything I asked of her, because she's not just
some girl
, is she Alexander?" Claude leaned back in his chair before he reached over and grabbed a cigarette from a box on his desk, lighting it as he cursed under his breath in French.

“I don't know what you mean.” Alaric composed his face into a flat expression again, and Claude leaned forward and pointed at him.

“Don't lie to me, Alexander. You've been involved in a lot of shit, Luca has sent you through me for a lot of it, but you've never been involved in trafficking.” He dragged another mouthful of smoke before releasing it.

“I'm not involved in trafficking,” Alaric growled out.

“
That
is a lie, and I just told you not to lie to me. You're taking that girl from one person to another, aren't you?” Claude raised his voice as he spoke, his own anger filtering through. “That's why you want these documents, I’m not a fool – and that's
trafficking
, Alexander.”

“It's a special circumstance. Luca –” Alaric felt sick as he tried to explain himself, but Claude cut him off.

“Say whatever you want, but I thought you were better than this. Luca always told me you didn't mess around with women. I
respected
you for that.” Claude stood up, smoke trailing out of his mouth as he continued and pointed at the door. “But you don't bring one of those girls into my club. You want to do that to her,
you
do it. You don't involve me in it.”

“I don't
want
to do this, Claude.”

“Then don't.” Claude smashed the cigarette into an ashtray made of glass.

“You know that isn't an option. Have you ever told Luca
no
?” Alaric's emotions were on overdrive, and he was struggling to maintain his composure. Especially since Claude wasn't pulling any punches, he was obviously high as a kite and didn't care what he said to him.

“
I
don't work for, Luca.” Claude stared at him and sat back down, sitting quietly for a moment as he turned his head toward the monitors on his desk. “I'll make the papers. You transfer five thousand tonight, but you never bring this shit to my door again. Understand?”

Alaric nodded. “Trust me, I'm not accepting a job like this ever again.”

“Good.” Claude gripped the top of one of his monitors and turned it towards him, it showed security cameras aimed at the dance floor and the bar. “I don't want her here. Girls like that bring nothing but trouble. Get her off my dance floor.”

He felt sick as his eyes found her like a beacon in the crowded club, her pale hair and skin catching the flashing lights. Claude had held up a mirror to the situation and said out loud all of the things Alaric had been thinking, but refusing to recognize. He had to clear his throat before he spoke, “I promised her she could dance, Claude. Don’t make her leave.”

“I don’t want any trouble here.” He was looking at the screen, tracking her blonde hair as she moved in the crowd just like Alaric had.

“I’ll stay with her, there won’t be any trouble.” He rubbed his hand over his face and spoke quietly, “Whoever the client is may not let her go anywhere, or do anything. This could be her last chance to be free for a while.”

“And whose fault is that?” Claude looked back at him and it felt like a punch to the stomach. Alaric just gritted his teeth, unable to respond. “Fine, she can stay, as long as you stay with her. But I’m serious, never bring shit like this to my door again. Got it?”

“Right.” Alaric nodded and headed for the door to Claude’s office. He was almost relieved when he stepped out of the quiet and back into the sea of pulsing sound and moving bodies. The dance floor was even more crowded than when they’d entered, but he found Tara easily. She was impossible to ignore. As he moved through the crowd towards her he was entranced by how each flick of her hips, each move of her shoulders, every gesture was timed perfectly to the rhythm of the music. The faint smile on her face looked real, not that plastic celebrity smile she kept using.

She looked happy, and fuck she could
dance
.

He wasn’t the only one watching her curves under the lights, and the guy in front of her looked way out of his depth. The guy could barely keep the beat himself because he was staring at her. When she turned around that guy’s eyes went south and Alaric felt his temper rise again, but he clamped it down.

The song changed and so did her movements. She smoothly transitioned to the new beat and turned back to the guy in front of her. Then she put her arms on his shoulders. When the guy’s hands found her hips Alaric stepped forward before he thought about it and tugged her back against him. He locked eyes with the guy over the top of her head and watched as the other man’s eyes widened. Alaric’s temper must have been evident because the guy didn’t even bother, he just turned away into the crowd. Tara had stopped dancing for a moment, but she continued without even turning to look at him.

Alaric fell into the beat, moving with her and then he leaned down to speak into her ear, “Claude is making your papers.” She tensed against him but kept moving, he may not have even noticed had there been an inch of space between them. As it was he could feel every expansion of her ribs, every shift of her hips that was wreaking havoc on his self-control.

“That’s good,
sir
.” She had to practically shout for him to hear her, but he heard the snap in her new term for him. Alaric made himself bite down the frustration he felt. He wasn’t going to rise to her bait or ruin her night by telling her what Claude knew, or that he didn’t want her here, and he wasn’t going to start an argument over her irritating obedience.

“Who was that guy?” He asked in her ear and moved his hands to her hips, which was a mistake because the way she was moving them was incredibly distracting.

“He was harmless, that’s why I picked him. I wasn’t just going to sit and wait for you,
Alexander
.” As if to spite him she slowly lowered herself to the floor on a lull in the song and then came back up on the next upbeat. She was way too good at that. Alaric clenched his jaw because she was undeniably gorgeous, and so damn strong and brave, and the things she was doing with her body on the dance floor had not only his attention but every male’s within fifteen feet.

“Well, I’m here now, and I promised you we’d dance. And it
is
Alaric, but I’d prefer if you kept that to yourself.” Instead of stepping back like he really should have, he tugged her closer to him and she matched his movements in perfect time.

Hours passed that way, only taking breaks for water, and as they danced the tension of meeting Claude was long forgotten. Alaric hadn’t relaxed like this in years, and for once he actually felt his age. Twenty-two, in a dance club in Milan, surrounded by other young people who were singing along to some of the songs and dancing and drinking.

The smile on Tara’s face a few hours into dancing was more of a smirk than anything, but it was one of the most honest expressions he’d seen on her face. They were both sweating and she was actually making him laugh with how wild and carefree she was on the dance floor. She moved so confidently, twisting and shifting to the music with more grace than anyone there. A few girls had started dancing near them, and they treated her like she was one of them while they flirted with him. He just smiled at them, the way Luca hated. They asked her questions about attending university, where she lived, was she on vacation – she lied beautifully to all of them, creating this alternate life she could have lived.

He was happy for her. It was the life she should be living, those girls should be her friends, this should be any other night for her, not a once in a while opportunity. She shouldn’t be obedient and calm, she should be brazen and defiant and she should definitely dance like this. All the time.

Gianni had been an idiot if he hadn’t come with her when she went dancing.

The DJ announced that the club would be closing soon and Alaric pulled out his phone to see that it was after 3:30am. He lifted his head to tell Tara they should leave and he found her right in front of him. Her arms moved around his neck quickly and then she was kissing him.

Her full lips pressed against his and then her mouth opened and the kiss deepened. Alaric’s hands rested on her hips and he pulled her against him. They’d spent so much time touching all night that he didn’t even think as he ran one hand up her back and cupped her head, holding her in the kiss. The heavy silk of her hair winding through his fingers, the soft hum of her moan against his lips. It was incredible, and made him hungry for more, but he’d already crossed the line he’d laid for himself. He gently nipped her lip when she leaned back, and then he kissed her again, trying to memorize what it felt like, the warm smell of her skin with the undertone of clean soap.

He made himself let go, dropping his hands from her even though some inner part of him wanted to yank her closer and do a lot more than just kiss her. Tara looked up and gave him her real smile, which was so much smaller than the fake one, but simultaneously so much better.

“I know we have to leave, but thank you for this.” She didn’t have to talk as loud because they were so close, and he almost laughed that she was thanking him. This was the most fun he’d had in years, and then that kiss.
Fuck
. He felt like he should have said thank you first.

“I keep my promises.” His voice was much lower than usual, and he wasn’t sure she’d heard him. Tara took his hand and squeezed it as she leaned away from him to smile at the girls she’d been talking to. Rapid Italian came out of her as she explained they needed to go, the girls talked about him asking if they were together, but Tara carefully didn’t answer them. They all kissed each other on their cheeks, Tara plugged some random cell phone number into one of the phones and then she was dragging him towards the exit.

Her hand was small in his and he hadn’t seen her move so confidently since he’d met her, the time to just be herself had given him a glimpse of who she really was and he liked it. He liked it a lot. Strong and unabashed. Where the other girls on the dance floor had constantly checked to see who was watching them, she’d had her eyes closed most of the time, just listening to the music and moving.

His plan to forget her was ridiculous. How could he forget the way she’d moved? Or kissed?

How in the hell could he ever forget a girl created and cursed by gods? Real gods?

It was hopeless
.

When they stepped outside the security guard raised an eyebrow at her and she gave him a huge smile and hugged him, he stiffened for a moment before lightly hugging her. Tara murmured apologies in Italian, and asked him why he hadn’t come to dance with her. His excuses about no one covering the door for him made her hug him again and plant a kiss on his cheek, leaving him smiling. Alaric was surprised she’d even remembered her promise to him, but she’d clearly made the man’s night. He still had an urge to tug her back to him, to wrap his arms around her so the security guard would know she was –

What?
His
?

Idiot
.

Alaric rubbed a hand across his face and started to move towards the valet stand, but Tara didn’t let go of him. She said one last goodbye to the security guard and then followed him, her hand gripping his. As the valet went to get the car he was amazed by how alive she seemed, her eyes were sparkling like ocean water, her smile was real, and her body was relaxed and energized at the same time.

“You’re incredible.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could think to shut it, and the faintest blush came to her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I -”

“Thank you, Alaric. I haven’t had this much fun in…” She shook her head, those waves catching the street light and reflecting it in gold highlights. “- maybe in forever.”

“It was really fun.” He smiled at her and she squeezed his hand again just as the car arrived. They got in and he tipped the valet a wad of bills, which was probably too much, but the evening had been worth more than that.