Voice pitching a little higher, she squeaked, “Was Inotsafe before?”
Visibly shaken, Maxine glanced quickly over her shoulder. “Of course you were. Just relax in the dressing room for a while. Maybe have one of those cookies I got you. We both know you haven’t eaten enough.”
“Max—”
A smooth, bass voice cut her off. “Did I miss the show?”
Oh no. I know that voice.
She didn’t mean to look back. It just sort of happened. Her head turned as if by some invisible force over her shoulder.
The green glow of vampire eyes peered at her from the half-light of the space between tables. The flicker of candles barely touched the edges of the man’s large frame. The shapes of his face were barely visible, but she got the impression of sharp cheekbones and a dark beard.
At a glance, the only distinctive feature she could immediately see were two streaks of white: one in his beard and one swooping above a heavy brow.
Something jumped through her — a shock of sensation she couldn’t name despite the many times she’d felt it. It was a little bit like fear and a little bit like desire and a lot like danger.
For a moment, no sound reached her. There was no jazz or the murmur of onlookers at their tables. Her heartbeat was a steady thump in her ears.
He came.
The spell was broken when Maxine stepped smoothly in front of her. “Mr. Amauri, I didn’t know you were invited?—”
“Wasn’t,” he smoothly interrupted. “I just came to talk to Easton, but since I’m here…”
Tucked behind Maxine’s statuesque frame, Francesca couldn’t see him, but she could feel his approach like rolling storm clouds.
She recognized Easton’s voice when he pleaded, “Let’s just take this to the back, Mr. Amauri. We can talk privately.”
Francesca blinked.Mr. Amauri?Why did that name sound familiar? She could’ve sworn she’d heard it before, or perhaps read it somewhere.
“You don’t want to talk to me in front of all your friends?” Mr. Amauritskedin a regretful way thatalmostsounded sincere. “That’s not very nice.”
“There’s no reason for this,” Easton pleaded.
Mr. Amauri clicked his tongue. “Mm, I think there’s a lot of reasons for this, actually. Five hundred thousand of them, even.”
Francesca looked around nervously. Murmuring went around the room, and from her limited vantage point she could make out several people shifting uneasily in their seats. Whoever Mr. Amauri was, he’dthoroughlybrought down the mood.
And that meant he might ruin everything.
No, no, no,she thought, breathing fast. She needed this. Sheneededthe money these people could offer her. There was no way she could let some man burst in and ruin all the careful planning she and Maxine had done to get here.
In hindsight, confronting him was a deeply reckless thing to do, but Francesca hadn’t come this far, put herself inthisposition, to let it all be blown to pieces at the last second.
Maxine tried to grab Francesca’s arm, but it didn’t do much good. She leaned around her friend to hiss, “Hey, asshole!”
She hadn’t expected him to be as close as he was, and she certainly didn’t expect him to look at her likethat.
Dark eyes stared at her from beneath curly lashes. A sharp nose sloped down between high cheekbones. A black beard slashed with a white streak framed a mouth curved in a wicked smile.
That smile widened when he drawled, “Hello, kitten. Miss me?”
Her stomach dropped. All the bravado she’d so briefly possessed left her with a pitiful little whimper as her cunt clenched hard.
“Um…” She blinked rapidly.
“Frankie, no,” Maxine hissed. She tugged firmly on Francesca’s arm. “Go into the dressing room, please.”