Or maybe it snared Angela neatly in Max’s web.
“His profession doesn’t matter.” Angela gave a confident smile. “Right now he’s a man, and he wants you. It’s him. We’ll have no other.” Then, changing the subject swiftly and completely, she added, “You didn’t order me a wine.”
“The choices on that wine list are too vast.” Max hadn’t even considered it. “Besides, I got here early.”
Angela eyed Max’s nearly empty glass. “I see. Easing of the inhibitions?”
Fortification against Witt. Against her own desires. Against Cameron having set her up, biologically speaking. “I’ve got questions, you have answers.”
“Uht.” Angela accompanied the forestalling sound with a finger. “First you play, then you pay, then I answer.”
“But Angela, I need to know—”
The other woman zipped her lip and said not a word.
Max thought of blurting out that she knew about Lance, about the murder, about Julia walking in on the two of them, but the truth might push Angela away instead of opening her up. “I don’t want to play your game.” Liar.
Angela knew it, too. “You want to take him to the edge, make him plead, then give it to him better than he’s ever had it. Then, you want to look into his face knowing you’ve won, won, won.”
Max wanted to shut her eyes, cover her ears, and pretend she’d never even contemplated such a thing.
But she had taken Witt to the edge. They’d plunged over it together, but she’d been left with the feeling that he still had the upper hand. She wanted to make him plead. She wanted to be the best he’d ever had. Especially in that very moment as she looked across the tables straight into his hot blue stare, no longer unreadable despite the distance and the snuffed candle.
He wanted it, too. He was thinking the same thing. Oh God, they were lost. This was wrong. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong night. She couldn’t keep a clear head when he looked at her like that. The whole gig could blow up in their faces. What had Cameron been thinking when he so ruthlessly prepared her for Witt?
“Do him,” Angela murmured like a tiny devil sitting on Max’s shoulder. “Take him up to a room and give him the ride of his life. So he’ll never forget you.”
Max’s lips formed the word she so badly wanted to say. Then she said it and sealed their fate. “Yes.”
Angela sat back, suddenly all business. “I already got you a room.” She pulled a card key from her tiny purse and slid it across the table.
Max’s mouth dried up again, and tension roiled in her belly. “You got me a room?”
“Well, you can’t do it in the lobby.”
“Yes, but...” This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go down. She couldn’t go to a room Angela chose. It could be bugged. God forbid, it could have a camera set up behind a heater vent or air-conditioning grill. In fact, that was the only reason Angela would have already gotten a room. She’d want assurance that Max was doing what she said she’d do. Man, she was screwed and not in a good way.
“The guy’s probably got a room. We’ll go there.”
Shark fins swam in Angela’s eyes. “How will we know you really did it?”
Oh yeah, Angela had set her up but good in that room. Desperation made Max’s voice rise. “I’ll have the money.”
“Money won’t prove anything. The cash could already be hiding in your sexy velvet purse”—Angela tapped the offending article—“straight out of your own ATM.” Angela leaned forward. “We need action.”
Max squared her shoulders, her heart thumping. She’d gone to the ATM twice, once yesterday, then today, pulling out money in case Witt hadn’t thought of it. “What if it is my own money? Why will that matter? You’ll still be getting your payment.”
Angela touched her arm with cold fingers. “Haven’t you figured out it isn’t only the fifty-fifty split?”
Max shook her head, no longer able to speak.
“You and I, we want the same thing. We like the power. We’re sisters. We can do this over and over. Feed off them like Amazons. Once isn’t going to be enough. Not for you, Max. I want you to discover that.”
That was truer than Angela knew. Once with Witt hadn’t been enough. She might never get enough. She’d keep going back again and again like an addict for her heroin. That’s what Cameron had been trying to prove to her in the bathroom stall.
“Look at him.” Angela’s voice in her ear seduced. Max looked. “God, I’d love to do him,” the other girl went on. “I’d definitely swallow for that one.” Angela looked straight in Max’s eyes. “But it’s you he wants.”
And Max wanted him. Badly. A sexual thrill beat through her blood. But she could not and would not go to the room Angela had picked out for her walk on the wild side.
“Blow him, Max. That’s all you have to do for now. Just that.” Angela dropped her eyelashes seductively. “You want to, don’t you?”