The Naked Truth (4 page)

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Authors: Natasha Rostova

BOOK: The Naked Truth
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‘What are we doing here?’ Callie hissed, feeling more than a little out of place and conspicuous in her pale blue suit.
‘Getting away from it all, sugar.’ Gloria hitched herself up on to a barstool, letting her skirt ride up her thighs as she tossed a smile in the barman’s direction. ‘Hello, Roger. Vodka martini, no ice, two olives. Shaken, not stirred.’
‘Good to see you again, Gloria.’ Roger tore his gaze away from Gloria’s cleavage long enough to look at Callie. ‘And for you?’
‘Just a glass of iced tea, please,’ Callie requested.
‘God, Callie, you’re not at the Ladies’ Guild meeting anymore,’ Gloria said derisively. She looked at Roger. ‘She’ll have a martini as well.’
After the barman placed two glasses in front of them, Gloria glanced at her sister.
‘I hope you and Logan are planning to attend my charity ball next month,’ she said.
‘I don’t know, Gloria. Logan and I aren’t getting on so well.’
‘One little tiff is nothing.’
‘It’s not a little tiff. We’re really not getting on.’
‘What are you talking about? You and Logan get along perfectly well.’
‘Sure, in public. Behind closed doors is another story.’
Gloria frowned. ‘He doesn’t slap you around, does he?’
‘Heavens, no.’ Callie took a sip of the potent martini. She was aware that most of the men in the room were watching them. ‘That would require that he actually exhibit an emotion besides disapproval.’
‘Well, it’s not as if you’re deprived,’ Gloria remarked. She downed half her martini and gave a happy sigh. ‘Married to one of the most respected men in town, not to mention one of the sexiest, living in a gorgeous mansion, free to come and go as you please. You must admit it’s a life you never thought you’d have.’
‘That’s true,’ Callie allowed. ‘But that doesn’t mean I necessarily like it.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Callie, you just have to get used to it.’
‘I’ve had three years to get used to it.’
‘So, what are you going to do? Leave him?’ Gloria shook her head. ‘Don’t even think about that, my dear.’
‘Why not?’ Callie asked. ‘Plenty of women leave their husbands.’
Gloria gave Callie a look of disbelief. ‘Not husbands like Logan Waterford, they don’t. Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it. I’d be furious with you.’
‘I don’t even really like Logan,’ Callie admitted. ‘How am I supposed to enjoy being married to him?’
Gloria fished the olive out of her martini and began sucking on it. ‘You don’t have to enjoy it,’ she scoffed. ‘You just have to realise that he gives you status and money. That’s plenty enough for most women.’
‘I’m not “most women”,’ Callie reminded her.
Gloria rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me about it, sugar.’
‘You come here often, darlin’?’ asked a husky, male voice.
Callie and Gloria looked up to find a burly, bearded man standing next to Gloria’s chair, making no effort to hide his appreciation of her cleavage. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his lip, and he held a beer bottle in his hand.
Gloria smiled at him. ‘Not often enough, I do believe,’ she replied pertly.
‘Too bad for us, then.’ He rested his hips against a barstool. Callie couldn’t help staring at him. His muscles practically bulged beneath his T-shirt, and his body looked as if it would be as solid as a brick wall.
The man’s eyes went to Gloria’s bare legs and the hem of her skirt, which was hiked almost clear up to her crotch. ‘Nice outfit.’
‘We just came from our club meeting,’ Gloria replied. ‘Terribly stuffy, if I do say so myself.’
‘You don’t seem “terribly stuffy” to me,’ he said. ‘My name’s Hank.’
‘Hank.’ Gloria rolled his name over her tongue as if she were tasting it. ‘What a delicious name.’
‘Not as delicious as you look.’ He put his callused hands on her knees, rubbing his fingers over her skin.
‘Gloria,’ Callie hissed. She was well aware of her sister’s underground antics, but she didn’t appreciate being made to witness them.
Gloria threw her a lazy smile. ‘Relax, Callie. Just enjoy yourself.’
Hank’s fingers made their way halfway up her thighs, and Gloria didn’t bother trying to stop him. In fact, she spread her legs wider. Hank gave her a leering smile.
‘Wanna dance?’ he asked.
‘I’d love to.’ Gloria downed the last of her martini and followed Hank out to the small, empty dance floor.
An Elvis Presley song was playing on the jukebox. Everyone in the bar watched as Gloria snuggled right up against Hank’s big body as if she’d danced with him thousands of times before. Her breasts pressed against his chest as his hands massaged her arse. Callie was embarrassed on her sister’s behalf, especially when Gloria and Hank began kissing with pornographic enthusiasm. Callie thought that if Gloria wasn’t careful, she’d choke on Hank’s tongue.
Roger the barman paused from wiping down the counter to look at Callie. ‘You a friend of hers?’
‘I’m her sister. Does she come her often?’
‘Yeah, about once a week or so. She likes the back room.’
Callie took another swallow of her martini, not sure whether she wanted to know the answer to her next question. ‘And what is the back room?’
‘You know, where people go to fuck,’ Roger explained bluntly.
‘You have a room where people can fuck?’
‘Sure, although it’s not like we advertise it or anything. It’s just there for customer use.’
‘Do you want to dance?’ a male voice suddenly asked.
Callie looked up to find herself staring at a skinny, pimple-faced boy holding a pool cue. ‘No, thanks.’
He glanced towards Gloria and Hank. ‘What, you don’t put out like she does?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Hey, Gary, back off,’ Roger ordered.
With a scowl, Gary went back to the pool table with his tail between his legs. Callie gave Roger a grateful look before returning her attention to Gloria and Hank. She wasn’t surprised to discover that Hank had started to feel her sister up, having stuffed one beefy hand into the top of Gloria’s suit jacket. His hand roamed around brazenly underneath the material, his fingers pinching at her nipple while his other hand continued to massage her arse. For her part, Gloria appeared to be revelling in the indecent attention. Her skin was flushed a rosy pink, her eyes half closed in sensual abandon. She stood on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear. Amidst envious glances from the bar patrons, she and Hank slinked off the dance floor and went through an open doorway near the pool tables.
Callie shook her head and sighed. She had always known that Gloria was a back-room kind of woman, but suddenly she wasn’t sure if her feelings about that were ones of disgust or envy.
Chapter Two
 
C
allie woke when a stream of sunlight spilled through an opening in the curtains and touched her closed eyelids. She stretched, yawned and turned towards Logan’s side of the bed. He was gone, his pillows and sheets pulled up neatly with every wrinkle smoothed. Callie shook her head and clambered out of bed. After brushing her teeth and hair, she wrapped a blue, silk robe around her body and went downstairs.
Logan was in the dining room, eating breakfast and reading the paper. He was fully dressed in a navy, pinstriped suit and tie, his dark hair combed to perfection. Callie often felt dishevelled and slightly frumpy around him, especially in the morning.
‘Morning,’ she mumbled.
‘Good morning, calla lily.’
Callie poured herself a cup of coffee from the silver carafe on the sideboard and sat down next to him. The maid had laid the table with a basket of croissants, fruit and cheeses, but Logan had two pieces of toast, a hardboiled egg and a black coffee in front of him. Callie had never known him to eat anything else in the morning.
She glanced at him as she spooned sugar into her coffee. ‘So, what are you doing today?’
‘I have a few meetings and a conference call in preparation for court on Thursday.’
‘I see. Any interesting cases?’
‘Not particularly.’ He turned to the sports section of the paper. ‘Assault and battery.’
Callie broke open a fresh croissant, her stomach rumbling in anticipation as the rich, buttery scent reached her nostrils. She let the flaky pastry melt on her tongue before she looked at Logan again.
‘Logan?’
‘Yes?’
‘Why did you marry me?’
Logan glanced at her. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Why did you marry me?’ Callie repeated. ‘We’d only known each other for a month. That’s not long enough to fall in love with someone.’
‘I don’t know, Callie.’ A thread of irritation wove through Logan’s voice. ‘Do we have to start this now?’
Callie’s eyebrows rose. ‘You don’t know why you married me?’
‘I married you because I thought you would be a good wife.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ Callie sipped her coffee. ‘Careful not to be too overwhelming in your response there.’
‘I really don’t have time for this.’
‘No, I’m not surprised.’
‘I have a long day ahead of me.’
‘You wouldn’t want to talk about this even if today were Saturday,’ Callie pointed out.
‘Talk about what? Why I married you? That’s just a silly question.’
‘For such a silly question, you certainly didn’t answer it very thoroughly.’
Logan sighed. ‘Callie, you know I dislike it when you become petulant. I’ve had quite enough of this after the other night.’
Tension tightened Callie’s nerves. She forced herself to keep her voice calm and even. ‘I’m not being petulant, and I wish you wouldn’t speak to me as if I were a child.’
‘When you act like one, I have little choice.’
‘I asked you a question about our marriage,’ Callie said. ‘There’s nothing more adult than that, is there?’
Logan didn’t reply. He stood and went to the sideboard. ‘If you’re going out today, could you please pick up my shirts at the cleaners?’
Callie fought the urge to make a snappish retort. ‘Yes.’
She remembered that she was scheduled to work at Nebula Arcana today, but she could pick up the shirts in her lunch hour. She hadn’t told Logan about her part-time job, nor did she intend to. She’d started working at the City Market shop several months ago simply because she wanted some time away from the oppressive sphere of Logan’s life.
She realised now that she had also wanted to earn extra money out of necessity. Logan never regulated her spending, but Callie no longer wanted to feel indebted to him. He knew nothing about her job. Callie suspected that he wouldn’t disapprove of her working, but that he wouldn’t be thrilled that Nebula Arcana was an alternative type of shop that sold funky candles, incense, tie-dyed clothing and handmade jewellery. Such an establishment was hardly in keeping with the Waterford image, and Logan certainly wouldn’t have liked the fact that the clientele consisted mostly of ageing hippies, Goths, Wiccans and New Age followers.
‘Could you bring me the cream, please?’ she asked.
Logan poured himself another coffee. ‘What are your plans for this week?’
Callie nibbled at her croissant. ‘Nothing special. I have a museum fund raiser scheduled and lunch with my sister.’
Logan’s mouth thinned slightly as he handed her the cream. Their fingers brushed, and he pulled away from her as if her touch somehow bothered him.
‘And what is your sister doing with herself?’
‘She’s gotten involved with the Conservation League, a historical preservation society.’ Callie poured cream into her coffee and stirred. ‘She wants me to join, too.’
‘What does this league do, raise money for the preservation of historical relics like Gloria?’ A corner of his mouth rose in mild amusement as he reached over with his napkin to dab at a spilled drop of cream on the table.
Callie ignored his deprecating remark. ‘No, it ensures that monuments and historic homes all around Georgia aren’t torn down by greedy land developers.’
‘Good. That should keep you busy.’
Callie’s hand tightened on her cup. ‘Logan, do you ever think something is wrong?’
‘Wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ Callie waved her hand in the air ineffectually. ‘I mean, wrong with us. With this marriage.’
‘What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong, Callie.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ She knew in advance what his answer would be. They had had this very conversation a number of times in the last three years, and the outcome was always the same.
‘Of course.’ Logan cracked his egg, giving her a mildly irritated look. Control collected around him like a suit: a suit perfectly tailored to his breadth and height. ‘What’s the matter with you lately? You’ve been very tense.’

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