The Tycoon's Rebel Bride - Maya Banks Page 0,40
any real need to repair her makeup, she slowly applied more lipstick, watching as her lips glistened blood red. Mechanically she brushed the mascara wand over her eyelashes, elongating her already dark lashes.
But still, her green eyes stared lifelessly back at her.
“Sadie, you’re up in five,” a male voice barked from the door. “Get a move on.”
Isabella pushed herself jerkily from her chair and spared one last glance in the mirror. She looked scared to death.
Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she adjusted her clothing, plumped up her breasts and headed for the door.
Theron stared out the window of Chrysander’s penthouse, his mostly forgotten drink still in hand. Dusk was falling, and the lights of the city were coming alive, popping on the horizon.
He still wasn’t sure his decision had been the correct one. He’d questioned himself repeatedly through the day, and yet, he could find no fault with the path he’d taken.
But now he had no idea what to do about Isabella.
He turned in irritation when his BlackBerry rang. It was sitting on the coffee table several feet away where he’d tossed it earlier. With a resigned sigh he walked over to pick it up.
Seeing Reynolds’s name on the LCD immediately put him on edge. He hit the answer button and put the phone to his ear.
“Anetakis,” he said shortly.
“Mr. Anetakis, this is Reynolds. We have a situation, sir.”
Theron put his drink down with a thud. “What situation?” he demanded.
“Earlier this evening, Ms. Caplan gave us the slip. Again.”
“What? And you allowed her to do this again?”
“I’m afraid it’s worse, sir. I’ll be happy to fill you in on the details later, but at the moment we’re on our way to La Belle Femmes.” He paused for a moment. “Are you familiar with it, sir?”
Theron’s brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the information. “Isn’t that a gentlemen’s club? And why the hell are you going there?”
“Because that’s where Ms. Caplan went,” Reynolds said calmly. “I assumed you’d want to know.”
“Damn right I want to know!” Theron exploded. “I’m on my way now, and don’t think I won’t want to know exactly how this went down.”
He hurried toward the door, his finger on the button to call for his driver. By the time he made it to the lobby, the car was waiting in front of the building.
What in God’s name was Isabella doing in a gentleman’s club? What was she thinking? Was Marcus somehow responsible for this? Theron was going to kill him.
When his driver screeched up to the club entrance, Theron got out and saw Reynolds along with his two men hurrying toward him.
“Is she here?” Theron demanded.
“We just arrived,” Reynolds explained. “We were about to go in to see.”
Theron strode ahead of them to the door and was stopped by a large man wearing dark glasses.
“Your name, sir?” the man politely inquired.
“Theron Anetakis,” he said impatiently. “Someone I know is in there. Someone who shouldn’t be here.”
“Unless you have a membership, I can’t allow you inside.”
Theron seethed with impatience and then he turned to Reynolds. “Take care of this. Pay the man whatever is necessary for membership and then rejoin me inside. I’m going in after Isabella.”
“But sir, membership is not instant….”
Theron heard no more as he pushed by the man and went inside. He trusted that Reynolds and the others would be able to overcome whatever objections the club’s security guard had to his presence.
The club was different than Theron was expecting. From the moment a gentlemen’s club was mentioned, it conjured images of a seedy, back-alley environment where prostitution and drug use ran rampant. Here, though, it seemed the establishment catered to an upscale clientele.
The interior was clean, lavish even, reminding Theron of many high-roller areas of casinos. The waitresses, through scantily clad, weren’t cheap-looking-tart material. The patrons were well-dressed, smoking expensive imported cigars and sipping only the finest brandy.
It was a place Isabella shouldn’t even know existed.
Theron weaved around the tables, sharp-eyed, his brow creased in concentration as he took in every single woman. Toward the front of the room, more men were assembled in front of a curtained platform. Evidently a show was imminent.
He dismissed the men when he saw no women among them. Where the hell was Isabella and had Reynolds gotten his information correct?
He glanced toward the entrance and saw Reynolds and the two other security men rush in. Theron gestured curtly at them, and Reynolds wove his way through the tables to where Theron stood.
“Why do you think Isabella