by listening.
He wasn’t alone. The entire audience went silent, as if they were as stunned by the intimacy of what they were hearing as Nathan was. The melody was familiar, an old torch song from the 1930s, yet Kelly made it sound as if it had been written just for her.
There were musicians backing her up, a jazz trio consisting of a pianist, a bass player and a drummer. Nathan could see their silhouettes on the stage beyond the range of the spotlight, yet they kept their contribution to the music as unobtrusive as their appearance. Kelly’s voice didn’t need adornment any more than her features did.
Nathan swallowed the rest of his drink, along with a pang of regret. There had to be more to Kelly than just the packaging. How did a woman who sang like this, whose performance hinted at such depth to her emotions, end up involved with scum like Stephan Volski?
Maybe the rumors were wrong.
Damn, he hoped so.
Because if Kelly Jennings was anywhere near her boyfriend when this deal went down, she would be trading her stage for a prison cell.
This would be the last time, the very last time, that Kelly would negotiate a deal for Stephan. All she had to do was set this business into motion and she and Jamie would be as good as gone. The smuggler she had been sent to meet was about to become their ticket to freedom.
Yet even knowing that, Kelly still felt her stomach rebel as she stepped off the stage. She paused to smooth her dress until the queasiness passed, then put on her best performer’s smile and kept her gaze on the back wall as she moved between the tables. She didn’t waste time by going backstage to change. That would be an indulgence she couldn’t afford. She’d already indulged herself enough for one night.
What had come over her? How could she have exposed her feelings that way? The past three years had taught her better than that. It was enough that she exposed half her bosom without laying bare her heart.
She should have restrained herself as she always did. Put on a show, gone through the motions, given the audience what they expected so everyone went home happy. Yet her control had been stretched to the limit today. The frustrated rage she’d kept inside since she had seen that gun in Jamie’s hands had needed to be released. Music was the only safe outlet she had. Without it, she likely would have gone insane by now.
But the respite was over. Rand was already here. One of Stephan’s watchdogs had pointed him out to her as soon as the set had ended.
He sat alone at a table in the shadows, his chair casually tipped back against the wall. He’d extinguished the candle that had burned in the glass bowl on the table, so she couldn’t yet see his face, but she could feel his gaze on her as she worked her way closer.
Fine. She knew how to handle that. If Rand was like most of Stephan’s associates, he’d be too busy ogling her to realize he was about to be played. She decided to put on a show for him, too, and give him what he expected. She added a hint of extra sway to her hips.
This had to work. She couldn’t let herself think of what she might be driven to do if it didn’t.
She paused when she reached his table, inhaled from the diaphragm to calm her nerves and held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Rand,” she said, deliberately pitching her voice low so that he would have to draw closer in order to hear. “I’m Kelly Jennings. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
He hesitated briefly before he rose to his feet. He was a tall man. Despite the four-inch heels Kelly wore, her eyes were only on a level with his chin. A loosely knotted tie hung from the open collar of his white shirt, likely a token concession to the Starlight’s dress code, but the jacket that stretched across his wide shoulders was biker black leather. It creaked as he extended his arm to take her hand. “I wasn’t expecting Volski’s man to be a woman,” he said.
The deep voice went along with his size. It was as masculine as the scent of leather and the hint of spicy aftershave that rose with him. She cranked up the wattage of her smile. “I hope you’re not disappoint—”
She never finished the inane comment. The first touch of his palm against her own stole her breath. Maybe it was due to anxiety, or maybe it was a result of fatigue, but when he closed his fingers around hers, she felt a thrill chase across her nerves.
His hand was large, his fingers long and tanned. The strength in his grip was wrapped in a gentleness that was at odds with his size and his choice of wardrobe. Kelly lifted her gaze from his hand to his face.
Good Lord, she thought. Whatever crimes this man did for a living, whatever he was on the inside, there was no denying that the outside was gorgeous. He had a square jaw and broad cheekbones, with a bold hawklike nose that evoked the image of a native warrior. His jet-black hair was cut short and combed straight back from his forehead, but he would have looked just as good with it long and braided. She could picture him on horseback, his shoulders clad in buckskin and his chiseled face bathed by moonlight…
“Surprised would be more accurate,” he murmured.
Kelly blinked, wrenching her mind back to business. What was wrong with her tonight? Rand’s appearance meant nothing to her. She wasn’t looking for a man. She was looking for a patsy, a sucker. A scapegoat. She gestured to the chair beside his. “Well, I hope you mean that in a good way. Do you mind if I join you?”
He held her chair for her. It wasn’t a showy courtesy, it seemed to come naturally to him. He resumed his seat, picked up a book of matches from the table and lit the candle.
His eyes were the color of amber, reflecting the flame with flecks of gold. And despite her revealing neckline, he kept his gaze on her face. “I have what you need,” he said quietly.
How right he was, she thought. “That sounds promising. Would you care to elaborate?”
“I’m in the transportation business. Volski’s looking for a new method to move his product. The math seems simple enough.”
“We checked out your background, Mr. Rand. We heard you ran a successful operation in Detroit ten years ago, but your experience was limited to stealing cars.”
“I prefer to regard it as redistributing them.”
“That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“It’s accurate. I either broke them down for parts or shipped them overseas.”
“Yes, so I heard. You had a good reputation.” She maintained her smile as she continued to scrutinize him. “But you dropped out of sight. Why is it that no one seems to have heard of you since then?”
“Because I’ve moved up from stealing cars, and I’m very good at what I do.”
“And that is?”
“I told you. Transportation.”
She crossed her arms on the table and angled her shoulders toward him. Cool air wafted across her breasts as her neckline gaped. She didn’t pull back—she wanted to put him off balance and she would take any advantage she could get. “You must understand why we would be concerned. Your timely arrival seems too convenient. We need to be sure you are what you claim to be.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you would require references. I left my résumé in my other suit.” A muscle in his jaw
