Main Attraction (6 page)

She had also managed to do a little damage with her shoes on a man as humongous as Frank, and there was no way this loser could be that big. If he was that manly, he wouldn’t have to resort to writing threatening letters to a woman half his size, right?

“Right,” she repeated aloud, forcing herself to believe that comforting line of reasoning.

With pure force of will, she managed to take up her customary position in the center of the room, despite the other voice in her head that was telling her to run to the window, crawl out onto the balcony and hide until this whole thing was over.

“Mistress, may I enter?” came a raspy and strangely hushed voice from the west dressing room. Shit, it was him. It was time to step into character. Ready or not, here her homicidal maniac came.

“Enter, slave,” Edna’s voice sounded from the room, her tone twice as haughty and imperious as it had been when he had first entered her parlor.

Frank had to admit that he was impressed, but not nearly as relieved as he might have assumed. He didn’t want her out there, especially not alone. What had sounded like an acceptable course of action when he hadn’t known Edna—hadn’t tasted her, touched her, watched the walls behind her eyes come crashing down as she abandoned herself completely to the moment between them—did
not
seem so acceptable now.

Sure, he could see her on the surveillance monitor and would be able to reach her in seconds, but it didn’t feel like enough. He felt horribly unprepared. Of course, when he had been prepping himself and the team for this moment, he’d had no idea that he would be quite as emotionally invested in the outcome.

He had come here wanting to do a good job for his queen, to help protect her estranged stepmother. Now he was sitting in this damned dressing room, sweating his balls off, determined to save the life of a woman he was well on his way to being consumed with. He wanted Edna, wanted her for his own. He would bet his left arm that tonight had been her first time in the submissive role, but she had taken to it quicker than any other woman he’d ever known.

The trust she’d given him so freely and honestly had overwhelmed him. He didn’t want any other man to be on the receiving end of that kind of trust. It would be too easy to abuse her, to take advantage of her while she was so new to the scene. And she
would
be new to the scene. There was no way she’d be able to resist another experience after what they’d done tonight. She would start to crave the freedom of submission, and he was already craving the sweet responsibility of being her instructor in the art.

You’re craving more than the privilege of
instructing
her. You want her, man, all of her.

As if on cue, his cock started to swell and thicken, recovering from the slight softening brought on by Nate’s untimely appearance on the scene. Thank god the kid had shown up, however, or he might never have been able to stop himself from finishing what they’d started. He’d only meant to kill a little time and relax Edna in the process. He’d never intended for them to go so far or to be tempted to take things even further. By the time she’d told him to fuck her, he’d nearly forgotten the reasons he shouldn’t.

What were a few dozen men waiting for his command and a suspected stalker on the way, when his cock felt like it would literally explode if he didn’t get inside a certain woman’s pussy?

The taste of her still lingered in his mouth, sweet and addictive. She tasted so clean yet so decadent, a strange mix of innocence and abandon that he had never expected to find, especially not in the Wicked Stepmother’s parlor. It made him wonder… Who was the real Edna? Was she truly that woman she’d given him a glimpse of, a widow betrayed by a confused teenager? Or was she a better actress than he had ever assumed, the kind of woman who knew how to read her clients and give them what they wanted, even if it wasn’t something usually on the menu?

Frank felt a knot form in his chest as a horrible suspicion took root. Could she have taken him for a ride? He’d never hired a woman for pleasure, what did he really know of the way the transactions worked? Watching Edna prowl about the center of the room with complete confidence in the presence of a man she thought a psychopath made him wonder. Was he the teacher or the student in their relationship?

“Hello.” The odd voice sounded from the opposite side of the room. Frank forced his mind back to the work at hand. There would be time to dissect his relationship with Edna after he made sure she was safe.

Relationship
. He’d just thought of what they had as a relationship. Damn, he really was in trouble.

“Thank you for seeing me,” the man spoke again, soft and scratchy. He was clearly trying to manipulate the sound, and that made Frank nervous. He’d never heard the man speak, but maybe Edna had.

Why else would he be attempting to disguise his voice? Maybe Edna’s stalker was someone she already knew, which would also explain why the man was still in his disguise. In over a month of tailing him, no one had ever seen him out of that damn hat that he kept pulled down low over his features.

Frank had told Edna he had followed the suspect for a week, but that wasn’t the complete truth. His people had finally taken a decent picture of the man last week, but had been tracking him for longer. Long enough to know that Edna wasn’t the only woman he had been stalking. The sick little fuck was a busy man, terrorizing half the sex workers in the city. So far he hadn’t acted on any of his twisted threats, but he was still managing to inflict serious damage.

Rumors of the “red light stalker” were scaring away business on the seamier side of town, seriously affecting the bottom line of the S&M parlors, as well as the more straightlaced bordellos. While Frank never frequented the places, these citizens deserved protection from creeps threatening their livelihood, not to mention their lives, as much as any other person in the kingdom. The new king and queen might be on a mission to close them down, but until they succeeded in making it illegal to traffic in sex, it was Frank’s job to provide the workers of the red light district with equal protection under the law.

“You will refer to me as Mistress, you will not look me in the eye and you will be punished if you dare to speak before spoken to again. Is that clear?” Edna ordered the man in front of her, still sounding amazingly strong and confident.

But then again, why shouldn’t she? The guy was even shorter in real life than he looked in the photographs, well under five and a half feet, even with the strange little fedora he had left on his head. Once he’d taken off his bulky overcoat, he was downright scrawny, so scrawny that he seemed reluctant to remove his oversized gray

t-shirt. It trailed down over the loincloth that hung limply around his thin, hairless, almost feminine-looking legs.

Scratch that,
very
feminine-looking legs.

“Shit,” Frank cursed to himself, beginning to smell a rat. His gut was screaming that something was very wrong, a feeling that was confirmed when Nate came scurrying into his hiding place.

“Captain, there’s another one!” Nate’s face was pale and sweat beaded on his mostly hairless upper lip.

“What do you mean another one?” Frank whispered harshly, fighting the urge to cuss the hell out of his soldier. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, Frank had bought the suspect’s identity at first. They were obviously being toyed with. But by who? And why?

“There’s another stalker down in the lobby right now. We managed to stall him, had a janitor say the elevator was broken, but he’ll be here soon. It’s only ten flights up and it’s just a matter of time until he finds the staircase,” Nate panted.

“All right, cover me.” Frank darted a quick look at the surveillance monitor to see that stalker number one was still a safe distance from Edna before he armed his weapon and made for the door.

“Should we stop the second one, sir?” Nate asked.

“Not unless we have to,” Frank returned. “Use your judgment, Officer. If I don’t have the situation in there under control by the time he reaches the lobby, then take him into custody.”

“Will do, sir,” Nate said.

“I knew it!” Edna suddenly screamed.

“Freeze, Queen’s Guard,” Frank bellowed as he burst into the room, nearly dropping his goddamned gun seconds after he found his mark.

What the fuck was going on?

“Captain Frank?” Queen Cindy squeaked. Her blonde hair spilled out in a mad tangle from the cap she had just whipped off her head and her big blue eyes started to tear. Her full bottom lip quivered and her hand trembled like she was about ten seconds away from a seizure, a fact that wouldn’t have worried him so much if that hand hadn’t been holding a small silver revolver trained right at Edna’s chest.

“Put the gun down, Cynthia,” Frank said slowly, dropping the “Queen” before her name without a second thought. The less power she thought she had in the present situation, the better. He had no idea why she would attempt to murder her stepmother on the same night she sent him and his men in on a mission to save her, but she needed to realize right away that he wouldn’t be an accessory to whatever she had planned.

He’d take her down like he’d take down any other criminal, especially anyone foolish enough to threaten someone he considered under his protection. Whether it made sense or not, Edna was now on his very short list of people he’d kill to protect— no matter what the law, or the queen, had to say about it.

“I thought you were going to be here tomorrow,” Cynthia cried, tears flowing freely down her face.

“Put the gun down, Cynthia. Now,” Frank ordered, his voice harder as he slowly positioned himself between the two women.

“You still haven’t learned to use a day planner?” Edna asked. “You really should get organized if you plan to start killing people. Time management makes murder so much more…manageable.”

“Shut up!” Cindy screamed at Edna, her face twisting with rage. “Just shut up. You aren’t always right. You don’t know anything about me, you never have.”

“Cynthia, if you don’t put that gun down right now, I will shoot,” Frank said, hoping his tone would convince her that he was dead serious.

“Frank, you’re supposed to be on my side.” Cindy gulped, her eyes filling with betrayal and hurt as she started sobbing, full force, once more.

“Yeah, Frank, can’t you just help your queen kill me like you’re supposed to?” Edna quipped, not sounding nearly as concerned for her own welfare as he’d like for her to be. Not to mention that badgering an unstable teen who was presently holding a gun aimed at your heart might not be the wisest course of action.

“Edna, be quiet,” he ordered.

“I wasn’t going to kill her, Frank. I could never kill anyone. You have to believe me,” Cindy said, finally dropping the gun as she dissolved into another fit of tortured sobs. Covering her face with her hands, she sunk slowly to the floor where she proceeded to curl into a ball on her side, looking absolutely pathetic in her oversized t-shirt and man-sized diaper.

Pathetic-looking or not, he wasn’t going to breathe easier until that gun was out of her reach.

Quickly, Frank crossed to Cynthia and kicked the gun to the far side of the room, unmoved by the wide, tear-filled eyes she blinked up at him from the floor. She was a beautiful girl, angelically beautiful, but he’d finally gotten a good look at the little brat that lurked beneath that pretty surface. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen through her sooner, and knew it would be quite awhile before he trusted his instincts fully again. He’d always prided himself on being a good judge of character, but it looked like he couldn’t have been further off the mark with this girl.

“Frank, I really didn’t mean to hurt her, you have to believe me,” she pleaded in response to the chill she no doubt saw in his eyes.

“She just thought I’d be better to look at with a few bullet holes for decoration,” Edna mumbled from behind him.

“Edna, please,” Frank said.

“I’m sorry. This is how I handle being scared to death,” Edna said, her voice rising slightly before she broke off with a shaky breath.

Shit. Pretty soon he was going to have two crying females on his hands and the real red light stalker popping in to the waiting room. He had to establish some sort of order

in the room before they lost the chance to catch their second suspect. They could all sit down and try to figure out what the hell was really going on after that was accomplished.

“Get up, Cynthia. Now,” he ordered. “Edna, do your best to get it together, okay?

The real guy is on his way up.” “The
real
guy? What real guy?”

“We’ve got another suspect on the way. Cynthia might not be our girl, or she might not be working alone.” He reached down and hauled a freshly sobbing Cynthia to her feet.

“What are you talking about, Frank? You mean there’s someone else who wants to kill me?”

“He doesn’t want to kill you,” Cindy said, her voice laced with a healthy dose of bitterness. “He’s in love with you.”

“What?” Edna asked, her big brown eyes growing even wider.

“He who?” Frank asked, pulling the queen across the room toward the east dressing room. They were running very short on time, and he had to make her disappear before the man she was talking about made it to the tenth floor.

“The p-p-p…” Cindy stuttered, the sudden resurgence of her tears making it impossible to understand what she was trying to say.

“Tell me his name,” Frank demanded, giving the girl a sharp shake. “Help me out and maybe you won’t go to jail for the rest of your life.”

“I’m the queen,” she sobbed hysterically. “I’m still the queen.”

“You’re not going to live to be queen of anything unless you start talking in the next two seconds,” Frank whispered into her face, letting the full force of his anger show in the eyes that met hers.

“Oh my god,” Cindy said, her tears drying instantly. “Talk. Now. Fast.”

“The prince— I mean, King Robert, my husband, he’s in love with Edna, or in lust with her anyway,” she said, continuing when Frank gave her a slight shake. “He started writing her those letters, but I didn’t know. When I heard about the stalker I really just thought Edna was in trouble, and I wanted to help. I thought maybe we could try to be friends, but when the guards brought in the picture they took yesterday, I saw the coat I’d given him. I had it handmade by the lady who used to sew his mom’s clothes, so I knew it had to be him.”