Chapter 5 The Proposition

• So much for the plan.
• Aria Morgan sat with nausea churning in her stomach, her body betraying her with tremors she could not fully control. She forced herself to take several deep breaths, willing her nerves to settle. Her dress was still open from the humiliating display moments earlier, and with fingers that shook more than she liked, she buttoned it back up.
• "Do not be such a coward," she muttered under her breath. "This is a public place. Nothing can happen."
• But the instant the words left her lips, her imagination flooded with possibilities, each one darker than the last. Every horrible scenario seemed not only possible but frighteningly probable.
• She pressed her palms flat against the table, fighting the urge to bury her head in her arms and admit defeat. How could she have thought this plan would work? What on earth had possessed her?
• "Aria!"
• The sound of her name startled her. She looked up quickly. Julian Rossi gestured for her to return to the booth. Relief coursed through her as she rose, grateful that he no longer expected her to continue the charade on stage. She sat heavily, her body weak with tension.
• "No go, darling," Julian said.
• A wave of relief almost buckled her, only for frustration to replace it. If this was finished, how could she hope to ask about her father? Surely this could not be the end. She had come too far.
• Then Julian smiled, a smile that carried no comfort. "How badly do you need a job?"
• The question froze her. Her instincts screamed to get up, walk away, abandon this ridiculous plan before it carried her any deeper into danger. All she had to say was that she no longer needed the job, and she could leave. But the words stuck in her throat.
• "Desperately," she lied.
• It was not a complete falsehood. She was desperate, though not for a job. She needed money. She needed it quickly, more quickly than any legitimate work could provide. Above all, she needed to find Richard Morgan.
• Julian leaned forward. "Well, we do have a proposition for you, if you are interested."
• "A proposition?"
• Julian laughed, the sound low and rough. "Nothing shady. I will let Stefan explain."
• "Stefan?" she echoed.
• A figure emerged from the shadows of the booth, and Aria's breath caught. It was the same man she had noticed on the street earlier, the one who had captured her attention with little more than a glance. Up close, he was even more striking. Tall, lean, his body honed to sharp lines beneath a tailored dark suit. A maroon tie lay against a crisp white shirt, the combination exuding effortless wealth. At first glance, he seemed safer than Julian, almost normal. But when she met the hard planes of his face, she realized how wrong she was.
• He was beautiful in a way that unsettled her, like a fallen angel too dangerous to worship. A scar cut from his right eye across his cheek, tugging at the corner of his mouth. It turned his beauty into something darker, something that warned of danger. Yet when he smiled, the shadows melted. He looked younger, almost boyish, and warmth spread through her body against her will.
• He extended a hand. Aria hesitated, then placed her own within it. The instant they touched, sensation jolted through her, sharp and electric, rushing up her arm to her chest. His eyes held hers, bright emerald green, fringed with black lashes, deceptive in their lazy calm. She could not look away. A flicker of amusement curved his mouth as he glanced down at their joined hands. She realized she was clutching his like a lifeline. Embarrassed, she released him.
• "Miss Morgan," he said. His voice was smooth, velvet that stroked along her skin and left her shivering. "My name is Stefan Romano. I was... an acquaintance of your father's."
• The words pierced her composure. An acquaintance of her father's. That did not bode well. Aria had never known much about Richard Morgan's dealings, but she had always suspected they were anything but legal. And here stood a man who not only knew him, but who carried the kind of danger her mother had warned against her entire life.
• She forced her voice to steady. "So what is this proposition?"
• "You need a job," Stefan said evenly. "I can give you one. Along with a place to stay while you settle yourself."
• Aria searched his face. His features revealed nothing, those dazzling eyes a shield.
• "Why would you do that?" she asked quietly.
• "Let us just say," Stefan replied, "that I owe your father."
• Julian gave a derisive snort, and Aria caught the quick, sharp look Stefan shot him, a warning that silenced any further comment. Something was off, she could feel it, but she could not put the pieces together. She should not have expected honesty from men like these.
• "It is a legitimate proposition, Miss Morgan-Aria," Stefan said, his tone smooth as silk. "I need assistance at present, and I can repay a debt to your father at the same time."
• Her instincts screamed at her to walk away. "Just what is it that my father did for you?"
• Stefan's expression did not flicker. "That is not a story I can share. You will have to ask your father." His gaze sharpened, piercing. "Have you spoken to him recently?"
• The question was casual on the surface, but Aria stiffened. There was something beneath it, something she did not understand.
• "No, not recently," she said carefully. Then she pressed, "Have you?"
• His eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. Silence fell, heavy between them.
• Julian broke it with a grin. "So, what do you say, Aria? You get a job and you keep your clothes on." His voice was tinged with amusement.
• Aria glared, but she bit her tongue.
• "Perhaps you would prefer to discuss this in a more professional setting," Stefan said smoothly. "No offense to Julian's establishment..." His eyes flicked to the stage.
• Aria followed his gaze and grimaced. The blonde dancer had been replaced by a redhead dressed in feathers that were shedding faster than a moulting bird. Aria turned quickly away, her cheeks heating.
• "... but perhaps you would feel more comfortable at my office," Stefan finished.
• "Your office?" she asked. The thought sounded far safer. She rose quickly, ready to leave. Then she faltered. "It will be closed, will it not?"
• "Oh, it will open for me," Stefan said softly. He stepped toward her, and she forced herself to remain still. His fingers moved with deliberate precision, flicking open the top buttons of her dress.
• Her heart hammered.
• "They were done up wrong," he murmured.
• "Oh." She stood frozen as he refastened them, his knuckles brushing against her skin. The touch made her breath catch. She wished desperately that she had worn a bra, something to shield her from the jolt of sensation that followed his every movement.
• "There," he said at last, stepping back. "Now we can go."
• He lifted her jacket from the chair and held it open. She slipped into it, a shiver racing through her as he smoothed the fabric down her arms.
• "Right then," Julian said with sudden cheer. "That is settled. Old friends should help each other, and any daughter of Richard Morgan's is a..." He stopped himself, shook his head. "Never mind. Go with Stefan now. He is a good man. You will be safe with him."
• Aria frowned. Julian's abrupt change unsettled her. A moment ago, he had been menacing. Now he seemed almost friendly. She glanced at Stefan, who smiled faintly.
• "Thank you, Julian. I owe you," Stefan said.
• Aria's mind spun. Owe him for what? But before she could think further, Stefan slid an arm around her waist, steering her toward the exit.
• Only when they reached the street did she realize she had never actually agreed to go with him. Yet she let him lead her, because the only thing she wanted more than answers was to escape that hor
• rible club.
• And after all, they were going to an office.
• What could possibly happen in an office?