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“Mmm, you’re so big,” she purred in an unfamiliar voice as she prepared to take him into her mouth.
Something snapped. She yipped as he roughly grabbed a fistful of hair, holding on by a thread so as not to fall into a violent rage. He yanked until her face tipped into view. Through clenched teeth he growled, “Who the fuck are you?”
She whimpered and released him. “My name’s Sherry.”
Appalled, he flung his fingers out of her hair, which was not nearly as soft as Evelyn’s, and stepped away. After quickly righting his pants, he paced. The hall was dark. As he flicked on the switch, he turned to face her.
“Jesus,” he uttered. She had the same length of hair, the same delicate bone structure as Evelyn, but her eyes were not crystal blue like hers. No, this woman’s eyes were brown. She also had freckles showing under a great deal of makeup. Her breasts were larger by at least two sizes, and there was a tattoo of a raven on her shoulder. That must have been what caught his eye at first, telling him something wasn’t right.
He wished like hell he were sober. He couldn’t think. The woman sat on the floor, watching him, looking like she wanted to bolt, but he still held her shirt in his fist and blocked her exit.
“How did you get up here?” he demanded.
“I . . . I had a key.”
Impossible. Only hotel staff, Evelyn, Dugan, and himself had keys to the penthouse. His alcohol-sodden brain cleared as if by magic. “Who sent you?”
Her lips pressed together. She lowered her head. “I was paid to do whatever you wanted. I’m sorry you’re disappointed. If you give me my shirt I’ll go.”
“Fuck that. I want to know who sent you here and I want to know now. Someone gave you a key.”
When she said nothing, he barked, “Prostitutes are paid. You either tell me who bought you or I call the cops and have them haul your ass downtown.”
She burst into tears. “Please don’t do that. This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Who hired you?” he growled.
She sniffled and covered her breasts. “I don’t know his name. He’s a client. I’ve only serviced him a few times, but he’s nice and I never thought he’d put me into a dangerous position. Please don’t hurt me or call the cops.”
“What does he look like?”
Her breath hitched as she drew in a stuttering breath. She looked at him with teary eyes. “Young. Brown hair. Green eyes—”
“Motherfucker.” He turned and forked his fingers through his hair. “How did you meet him?”
She sniffled. She was clearly terrified. Either that or she was an actress before she became a hooker. “He called my agency and asked for someone who looked like me.”
That cocksucker. Lucian shot out a humorless chuckle at the man’s audacity. “What, they didn’t have a girl with her blue eyes?”
“He requested blue eyes. He asked if I could get contacts,” she admitted in a whisper.
Disgusted, Lucian walked passed her and threw his ass into a chair. After a few minutes, she followed him. “Sir, if you give me my clothes I’ll leave.”
Lucian looked at her standing with her coat covering her naked breasts. It was uncanny how much she actually resembled Evelyn. “He fucked you?”
She blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor.
“I take it that’s a yes,” Lucian said slowly.
“I’ve only been with him a few times. After tonight I don’t think I’ll ever take his call again.”
He shook his head. What could he say? “I don’t imagine he’ll be calling you in the next twenty-three days anyway. How much did he pay you to come here?”
She gazed suspiciously at him. “One—Two hundred.”
Doubtful. Luckily he could play her little game too. Lucian reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He counted out five hundred and tossed in on the table. “That’s yours if you tell me everything you know about him. I promise not to hurt you and you won’t have to work for the money he gave you. Sorry, but you’re not my type.”
She gave him a measured look, then gradually approached the table. Small fingers scooped up the money, and she carefully sat on the chair across from him. He tossed her the shirt.
After she put it back on, she asked, “What do you want to know?”
“Start at the beginning. How did you meet?”
She adjusted her clothes and tucked her hair behind her shoulders. “Like I said, he called the agency asking if we had anyone who fit a description. He wanted thin, long chestnut hair with hues of auburn, blue eyes, early twenties. They sent me and two other girls. He sent the other two home and invited me in.”
“What happened during that first meeting?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Um, what usually happens . . .”
