Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

The square canvas hung at a forty-five-degree angle, so it was shaped like a diamond. The bottom point was the dark city skyline, and the moon rose high in the sky above. Green fog glowed behind the buildings. With this collection, it fit in as ominous, but on its own . . . it was hauntingly beautiful.

“It’s stunning, and it definitely says Chicago.” The unmistakable spires of the Hancock building were visible.

“So, I guess I need to find the owner and ask how much it is.” Roland made an attempt to look for Silas, but his attention seemed fixed on me. “You know him. Is he a reasonable guy?”

Was he fishing for information on my relationship with Silas? “I don’t know him well, but he seems fair.”

“Oh? I thought you two were—”

“No. He’d just done a tattoo for me.”

Roland leaned subtly closer, his hands going behind his back. I clenched my teeth together so tightly I was sure I was going to crack my jaw, but my fake smile remained in place. Could he be any more obvious? I’d bet a million dollars he was tugging his wedding ring off so he could slip it in his pocket.

Too late, cheating bastard. I don’t miss much.

“I didn’t know he did tattoos.” Roland grimaced like he thought less of Silas, which was ridiculous. I had half the mind to take him upstairs and show him the beautiful photo of the tattoo hanging in Silas’s kitchen, but I couldn’t imagine either man would like that. Plus, I didn’t want to be alone with Roland, even if it would help my audio recording.

“Yeah, a friend recommended him,” I said. “How’d you hear about Silas’s gallery?”

“One of his paintings is in the federal building, a few floors down from my office. Turns out his sister’s a U.S. Marshal, and she gave me his name.” He finished the glass of wine in his hand. “So, Miss Regan No-last-name, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a sales assistant at an exclusive night club.”

I gauged his reaction carefully. The hesitation that appeared was quickly replaced with intrigue. “Exclusive?”

He hit on the keyword just as I hoped he would. Appealing to his pride and status was a surefire way to get him hooked. “Yes. We have to be selective about who can become a member.”

His eyebrows tugged together. “Why?”

“For a lot of reasons, one of which is our clients prefer discretion.” I let out a breath and leaned close, setting my hand lightly on his arm. “It’s so they can enjoy safely, without consequences or judgement.”

His voice was hushed. “Enjoy what?”

I made a show of glancing around, hinting I was letting him in on a big secret. “An experience you can’t get anywhere else and pleasure like you—” I drew back and pretended to be embarrassed. “What am I doing? I shouldn’t talk about it. We’ve got a lot of powerful members, but you work for a congressman.”

I weighted my words, acting as if I was impressed with Bennett’s office. There was a spark of desire in Roland’s muddy-colored eyes, not for me, but to be included in this mysterious and exclusive club.

“Don’t worry about that. Your secret’s safe with me.” His voice was tight with what I assumed was excitement. “I mean, as long as we’re not talking about something illegal.”

“No, we’re not.” This was true in a basic sense. The blindfold club was set up completely legit on paper. The girls never touched the money or negotiated purchase price directly, and the johns were instructed they were bidding on a bottle of wine. Whatever happened between the girl on the table and the purchaser after the sales assistant left was between them.

“But,” I continued, “the club isn’t for everyone. There are plenty of people who are closed-minded, and we don’t want membership to tarnish anyone’s reputation.”

I ran a hand through my hair, shaking out the kinks, and glanced around again, keeping up the guise I was suspicious. Then I dipped my hand into my purse and pulled out a business card, keeping it tightly hidden in my palm.

“I’m going to give you my card, but please promise you’ll tear it up if you’re not interested.” Now is when I chose to go in for the kill. How he reacted to my next move was everything. I slipped my hand inside his jacket, placing the card in his interior pocket, brushing my fingertips over his chest as I withdrew. “The place is a fantasy, any desire you want. All you need is an open mind. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, knowing this would get him to nod in agreement with me.

His eyes were big and his expression surprised, but his head moved, bobbing right along with mine, even as he visibly swallowed hard. Now I had to make my exit to leave him wanting more.

It worked out so perfectly it was like it had been orchestrated. Silas emerged from the people and I gestured to him. “There’s the owner,” I said to Roland.

As Silas approached, I uttered a quick goodbye and used the opportunity to slink away. I stood in the far corner of the gallery, my gaze occasionally drifting back to the two men who appeared deep in discussion.

The guests in attendance began to thin, and I went to the table at the back where I could snag a bottle of water. The FBI agent in me demanded I leave, but the woman whose sex drive was out of control pleaded to stay. And what would I be going home to? My vibrator and whatever free porn I could find quickly. Why do that, when I could stay and fuck the gorgeous artist who’d already proven he knew his way around my body?

I drank the bottle quickly, tossing it in the bin for recycling, and went back into the party, this time studying the art that was obviously Silas’s. He seemed to love patterns. Designs emerged from everyday items in his photographs and drawings, and now I realized exactly which painting Roland had referred to. I’d been involved in a briefing last year with the Marshals, and I’d seen the striking black and white photo of the sun reflecting off the Willis Tower windows. A pattern glowed against the black.