“Ladies, first,” Michael said, glancing at Julie. “Hands on the desk, and spread your legs.”
Julie gasped and turned to Luke.
“In your wet dreams, man,” Luke said, “but not in this lifetime.”
The man arched a brow. “Either I search her or she spends the party here, with me.”
He grabbed the coat from the man. “Tell your boss I don’t share well with others, but I’m damn good at what I do. When he wants to find out how good, he knows where to find me.” He turned, pulling Julie close, only to hear. “Wait.”
Slowly, Luke turned around, arching a brow as the other man had only moments before.
“We’ll provide a female to pat her down.”
Luke still didn’t like it, but it was as close to compromise as he suspected they would get. He glanced at Julie and she wet her lips and nodded. Slowly, they turned back around.
“Step forward,” the man ordered, clearly the only one of the three allowed to communicate. ”We’ll search you while we wait on the female, unless you’d prefer to be patted down by a woman yourself?”
“Just the one you wish you could have and can’t,” Luke said, handing Julie the coat and stepping forward. The other two men stepped to the sides of the desk as Luke planted his hands on the wooden surface and let the asshole pat him down.
When he shoved off the desk and turned, he stood toe to toe with the man and lowered his voice. “Just so we’re clear. If you so much as think about fucking her again, I’ll rip your balls out through your throat and hand them to your boss.” He turned away, as the ‘female’ who wasn’t much of a female at all walked in. Stocky, five foot five, and wearing cargo pants, she was more man than some he knew.
Luke silently cursed as the ‘female’ sauntered forward, and gave Julie a once over from behind that made him want to backslap the bitch.
Michael motioned the other men out of the room. “I’m staying to protect my guard.”
The female guard stepped to Michael’s side and Luke could almost feel Julie’s discomfort, and the smirk on both Michael and the woman’s face said they were enjoying it.
Julie inhaled and let it out. “Let’s get this over with.” Bravely, she walked forward. Michael and the female stepped aside and Julie planted her hands on the desk.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke felt helpless watching the guard grope Julie. He should have protected her. He should have found a way to get her out of this. But it was over, finally over.
When the party motioned toward the door, he pulled her close under his shoulder, and whispered, “I’m going to make this up to you.”
She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him, and he knew she was struggling with her feelings, which only made him feel like a bigger dog. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, to make sure he knew how to get them out of here if he had to.
They were led past a set of stairs and into a massive living room with a high ceiling, walls of massive stained-glass windows, and furniture in sleek black leather. A variety of people, all dressed to impress, mingled, Judge Moore included. Several waiters held trays filled with drinks.
Luke glanced around to find the man who’d escorted them up gone, then he refocused on Julie and followed her gaze to the the painting of several sailboats on an ocean over a fireplace.
“That Monét,” she whispered, “is supposed to be in a museum in London.”
“It’s probably a fake,” he said, but Luke didn’t doubt the real thing was in Arel’s possession, thus why he had this one displayed.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “Because it’s worth a fortune.”
Luke’s gaze returned to the judge to find he was sitting in a leather chair next to a man who’d not been there moments before. Dressed in an expensive suit, the thirty-something blond male oozed so much arrogant confidence that even if Luke hadn’t seen pictures of Arel, he’d have known it was him.
The judge looked up and he and Luke locked gazes. He never even spared Julie a glance. Several seconds ticked by before he leaned in to listen to something Arel said. When the judge looked up again, he motioned to Luke to join them.
“Play the game,” he said softly.
“The game from hell,” she said, and smiled up at him and jokingly said with a bat of her lashes, “Whatever you say, my lord and master.”
“And if I believed that I’d buy up all the swampland and be a millionaire.”
She laughed, and it was well timed as they joined the two men. “Judge,” Luke said with a nod.
“This is Paul Arel,” the Judge replied without acknowledging Luke’s greeting. “Your host.”
“Bonsoir, Monsieur Walker.” He tilted his head toward Luke, but never offered his hand. Turning to Julie, his eyes carefully fixed on her eyes, and not her breasts, he said, “Et Ms. Harrison, tres belle, just as I have heard.”
Luke knew why Arel watched her eyes. The eyes were the path to the soul, to your hidden secrets, and he was trying to read her. “Thank you,” Julie said. “And I so appreciate the invitation tonight.”
“I hope the ride over was comfortable, Julie. You don’t mind if I call you Julie, do you? Certainly you may call me Paul.”
“The ride was not what was expected,” Luke said, ending Arel’s attempt to pull down her guard, something he’d never achieve. Julie might be scared, but she was a brilliant attorney, and a smart cookie. ”I don’t like talking around things. Time is money, and I know you want more of it, as do I. I believe we can find some mutually beneficial ground, but trust needs to be established.”
“Ah,” Arel said. “Indeed, it does. Why don’t you get a drink, and relax a bit. Then we can talk about exactly how my trust might be obtained. It will not be a easy task.”
Damn, the man’s accent was killing him. Luke looked down at Julie. “Go get us drinks, darlin’, and let me talk business.”
Julie nodded. “Of course.” She started to move and Luke pulled her mouth to his, sliding his tongue against hers, before he added, “Make it quick. I’m feeling rather thirsty all of a sudden.”
Her eyes went wide but she nodded and he released her.
Judge Moore stared at Julie’s retreating back and laughed in disbelief. “Tell me your secret for making a woman like that submissive.”
Luke focused on the judge with a hard stare. “Start with being me, not you.”
Arel barked out a laugh while the judge looked like he wanted to throttle Luke. There was growing interest in Arel’s attention to Luke. “You have balls, I’ll give you that, but do you have brains and stamina?”
Luke’s lips twitched. “You’ll have to give me trust to find out.”
Arel laughed. “Your brothers, they are, as you Americans say.. Saints? Why should I believe you are not one as well, perhaps in disguise?”
“Because everyone who’s supposed to be a saint is, right?” he asked sarcastically, his gaze settling on the judge, and returning to Arel. “I assume you keep him around because his assumed sainthood has come in quite handy?”
Arel didn’t reply, his gaze penetrating. “You were a SEAL, non?”
“I was.”
“SEALs are–“
“Trained killers,” Luke provided.
Arel considered that during another eternal pause. “What is it you feel you can do for me, Monsieur Walker?”
Luke noted the formality. No first names for him. “I have a knack for procuring, shall we say, difficult to find art work.” Luke’s gaze moved to the piece above the fireplace. “Much like that one.”
Arel let a slow smile slip onto his lips. “You are an interesting man. Still, art is only a sideline interest. I need someone who can be more diverse.”
Luke quirked a brow. “I consider everything.” He paused and then added, “If the price is right.”
Arel’s eyes narrowed. “The woman, she has a powerful list of clients. You control her?”
“Completely.”