“What was that, though? Does she seriously not have a bodyguard?”
“Guess not.” He’d assumed she did. He didn’t like knowing she had no personal security to protect her.
“You gonna be able to rub that shit on the rest of you, or what?”
“Huh?”
Ryder made a fake concerned face. “Oh, Chase,” he said in a falsetto voice as he fluttered his lashes, “let me rub this aloe into the rest of your muscular bod—”
“Shut up,” he said, without heat, unable to help the grin that tugged at his mouth. He would definitely rather have Becca’s hands on him instead of his own when he applied the aloe next time.
He might have zero chance with her, but if there was ever a woman who could make him want to settle down, it was her.
Chapter Three
What’s the word on the 2 new ones?
Rick read the text from the man he reported to about new recruits and responded. They’ll do. I’ll send them to you in a bit. Eleven work?
Sure.
He set the phone down on the kitchen counter and did up his pants. Feminine giggles came from the bedroom, then the two girls stepped out together.
They were both still naked. Young college students who had moved here from out of town. It was always easier when they didn’t have family close by.
“Are you coming back to bed?” the brunette purred.
She was only asking because she wanted to increase her chances of him making the introduction he’d promised them if they performed well. “No. Get dressed,” he snapped, irritated by her attempt at manipulation.
Their eyes widened at his abrupt tone, and they both stood there, looking uncertain.
“Go,” he said, already weary of them. Last night had been the first threesome for them, but it had meant nothing to him and had barely taken the edge off. “Shower and change. I’m taking you to meet the casting director in an hour.”
Their faces lit up. “He’s going to give us an audition?”
“Yeah.” In a manner of speaking, they’d already auditioned last night. Rick had sent the video over at two this morning.
They looked at each other, squealing in excitement, then disappeared back into the master bedroom. Rick moved to the espresso machine and started making himself a vanilla latte. When it was ready, he walked over to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking False Creek and the Vancouver skyline. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue over the mountains rising up to the north. Boats cruised through the water below, traffic flowing in a steady ribbon across the Burrard Street Bridge.
He liked it here. Was comfortable here. And given his long history with the area, he was also intimately familiar with the city’s seedier side.
He stared out at the multi-million-dollar view, bored and restless. Lately nothing seemed to satisfy him anymore. No matter how many women he fucked or fucked over, it still wasn’t enough.
His tastes had changed so much over the years. Twenty years ago, the life he led now would have been unthinkable. Back then he’d been nothing more than a street-level hustler, living from week to week on whatever money he could squeeze out of his girls.
And then he’d met Sofia.
He’d known right from the start that she was different. But he couldn’t have known just how much she would change his life. At first for the better. And then for the worse.
He sipped his latte, indulging himself in a few moments of thought about her. Her dark, liquid eyes that had captivated him. The body that had bewitched him to the point where he had almost become her slave instead of the other way around.
He’d fixed that in a hurry, alarmed by the strange power she’d wielded over him. She’d made him more money than any of the others, until the daughter had gotten in the way.
The television droned in the background, and then he heard a name that made every muscle in his body tighten.
“Becca Sandoza is reportedly nearing the end of filming her latest movie on location here in LA.”
He whipped around so fast that hot coffee sloshed out over the rim of the mug. He barely noticed the burn on the back of his hand, too caught up with the image on screen. Like a ghost from his past that taunted him mercilessly, so much like her mother it was a searing ache in his chest. She looked so polished. So cool and elegant.
Unreachable.
“The action thriller is her biggest role yet and has already generated Oscar buzz. Look for Razor’s Edge to release this Christmas in theaters.”
His pulse drummed in his ears as he curtly ordered the voice-controlled system to turn off the TV. Quiet filled the room, but it brought him no peace.
He stalked to the sink and dumped his coffee, rinsing the scalded skin on the back of his hand under cold water. Becca Sandoza.
What a fucking fraud. It wasn’t even her real name. She’d changed it at some point after Hollywood had begun to accept her. But he knew the truth. He knew who she was and what she’d come from. He knew the truth when the rest of the world didn’t. And that gave him a special kind of power over her.
She was nothing but a whore, just like her mother.
He’d been stunned when he recognized her on one of his favorite TV shows six years ago. Sofia’s daughter, a star? Yet as her star had begun to rise, so had his opportunity.
His jaw clenched, rage and lust combining as Sofia’s and Becca’s faces swam before his eyes. A memory hit him, the three of them in a dump just off Regent Park in Toronto, when Becca had just turned thirteen. Sofia’s eyes staring up at him, drugged and dilated, but instead of being filled with fear and submission, there was loathing and determination.
He hadn’t believed she had the guts to take her daughter and walk out on him. Yet she’d done just that, somehow escaping the wide net he’d cast to try and recover his property.
“Fuck her,” he muttered, anger eating away at his insides. All these years later, the memory of her betrayal still cut deep, the sting of humiliation too great to bear. Her daughter making it big in Hollywood was salt in the wound.
So many times he’d been tempted to expose Becca Sandoza for what she really was. But their current arrangement was too perfect. The money was too good.
Glancing around the luxury penthouse brought a measure of satisfaction, cooling the rage slightly. It was only his for as long as he could afford the exorbitant rent, and his funds were starting to run low again.
He pulled out his phone to check his bank account again. He needed this next deposit to pay the rest off and give himself some breathing room for a few months. This place suited him, and he didn’t want to leave it. Besides, given what she’d taken from him, the bitch owed him that much and a whole lot more.
He could have made her into a product back when she’d been under his roof. He could have sold her for a nice chunk of change. But even he had standards, and selling a thirteen-year-old to the highest bidder hadn’t sat well with him.
It was partly because she was Sofia’s daughter. Some part of him hadn’t been willing to tear her away from her child.
Every time he saw her picture now, it felt like she was taunting him. That they were both taunting him. Laughing at his expense and glorying in their triumph over him.
Oh, but he was the one who would get the last laugh. He could have her if he wanted.