Decadent. Suzanne Forster

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СКАЧАТЬ the interior of the spacious room. The two of them walked side by side, Angelic falling behind.

      “The club seems quiet tonight. Is that normal?” Sam had been told that certain platinum key members, otherwise known as the inner circle, met in great secrecy one night a week to discuss world economic events. He imagined they were probably being briefed on the latest international financial data, undoubtedly picking up insider tips, as well as discussing the imminent rise and fall of various world markets. Sam’s interest was limited to how Aragon made it possible for them to hide vast sums of money.

      “As I’m sure you now realize,” Aragon said, “most of our clientele are men of some stature, and without being too simplistic, such men have problems to solve. The ability to concisely solve a complex problem is the first trait of a superior mind. Wouldn’t you agree?”

      “One of them, certainly,” Sam said.

      “And what’s another?” Aragon asked.

      The unexpected question made Sam wonder if this was a pop quiz. He should have brushed up on Nietzsche’s Superman theory. “In my line of work, solving problems is essential,” he said, “but preventing them is better. I’d say foresight is the most important trait of a superior mind.”

      Aragon smiled, clearly pleased with Sam’s answer. He held his hand out and Angelic placed a platinum key in his palm. “I’m afraid we don’t stand on ceremony here,” he said. “Once a person has been approved for membership, it’s simply a matter of giving him his key. You now have free and unrestricted access to all levels of the club.”

      Aragon flourished the glimmering bauble before he offered it to Sam.

      “Honored,” Sam said, accepting the key. It was ceremonial more than anything else, but the symbolism was obvious. Aragon giveth, and Aragon can taketh away.

      “I know how selective you are,” Sam said, “and how discreet.” He glanced at Angelic, and Aragon picked up on the signal instantly.

      “That will be all,” Aragon told her.

      With a slight nod of her head, Angelic turned and left. Sam wondered again if her docility was an act. If so, she was good. Aragon seemed to be watching her, too, though without a hint of lust in his expression. Maybe they weren’t mixing pleasure with business?

      “I’d suggest a glass of champagne to celebrate,” Aragon said, “but I have a plane to catch tomorrow, and some pressing things to finish up before I go.”

      Aragon was leaving? Now or never, Sam realized. “I have it on good authority that your contacts in international financial spheres are vast,” he said. “If that’s true, there’s a certain problem you may be able to advise me on.”

      Aragon’s ice blue eyes warmed a little. “Would that be the four hundred and seven million dollars you funneled from Tricon Electronics—or the one hundred and nine million from Laurent Enterprises?”

      “Both.” Sam nodded. “And my compliments to your people.”

      “There’s very little we don’t know about you,” Aragon said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

      The two traded glances. Somewhere in the exchange a silent agreement was made that this conversation would continue in the near future.

      “I have business in Paris,” Aragon said. “I’ll give your problem some thought. I’m sure we’ll come up with some intriguing options. Meanwhile, I insist you take full advantage of what our club has to offer.”

      A shapely hostess breezed by Sam, and he could have sworn she patted his butt. “I think I can keep myself entertained,” he said.

      They exited the lounge, and Aragon led the way to the waiting elevator. “This is Monique,” Aragon said, indicating the unsmiling woman Sam had seen on his way in. “She controls access to the lower level, but there’s just one more requirement.”

      “Something else?” Sam had hoped to see the lower level tonight.

      Monique gestured for him to enter, and then she instructed him to place his hand in a luminous dark green square next to the control panel. “Palm flat,” she said.

      It was a palm scanner.

      “Once we have your biometrics logged into the computer,” Monique said, “you’ll be allowed to come and go as you please. It shouldn’t take more than twenty-four hours.”

      Sam wasn’t pleased, nor was he buying her biometrics gobbledygook. They were probably going to run a fingerprint check on him, too, which rarely took more than a few minutes, if you had no criminal record. For some reason he was being stalled; still there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

      With one bright flash of the scanner, Sam was done. He stepped out of the elevator, and Aragon stepped in, probably intending to visit his office, said to be on the lower level. “We’ll continue our chat when I return,” he said. “Until then, enjoy. Any special requests, ask Angelic.”

      As the doors closed on Jason Aragon, Sam nodded a warm and friendly farewell, all the while thinking, it won’t be long now, you arrogant bastard.

      

      ALLY HESITATED in the lobby of the Hotel Lafayette, wishing she could turn and leave as swiftly and silently as she’d entered. She’d come to search a man’s room, yet that wasn’t what had stopped her. It was her memories of this place. She’d been here just the day before to set up this mission, but she’d been able to keep the past at bay until now.

      The lobby buzzed with elegant guests. Its marble pillars and domed ceiling had always reminded her of the rotunda of a state building. However, today its grandeur made her feel disheveled and dirty. Her skirt was off-kilter, and she’d just noticed a smear of red clay ground into the hip.

      She took cover near a potted palm and brushed at the fabric, trying not to be too obvious. Her best suit! She’d ruined it. The emotions flooding her had little to do with her clothing. This was the hotel where her mother and father had stayed when they’d come to New Orleans to save her from a fate worse than death—ruining the family name.

      “Miss, is there something wrong? Can I help you?” a perturbed young man in red livery asked her. Although he had enough brass on his uniform to command an army, he was likely just a hotel clerk.

      “No, I’m fine,” she said, hoping her nerves didn’t show. “I have a spot on my skirt. Is there a ladies’room nearby?”

      He looked as if he wanted to hustle her out the back door. He obviously thought she was an interloper, maybe even a hooker. She’d love to tell him who she really was and blow his mind, but he’d never believe her. She was wearing a dirty suit with a miniskirt and a plunging neckline—of course, he wouldn’t believe her.

      “Down that hallway to your right, miss.”

      “Thank you.” Ally squared her shoulders, proceeding with as much dignity as she could muster, which should have been considerable. Grace under fire had been drilled into her as child. In her parents’ eyes, decorum was everything, as important as breathing.

      She knew the clerk was watching her, and fortunately, the ladies’ lounge was out of his eyeshot. Unfortunately, there was an attendant on duty СКАЧАТЬ