I don’t have a chance to take the swimsuit off with Moon present because he has limited time. He had only come home because Gabriella called to tell him that Danita brought a few of the escorts to the house.
“My aunt brings the ladies here about once a month to swim and relax,” he tells me over a quick lunch. “I make myself scarce on those prearranged days. She brought them here today for intimidation purposes.”
We’re enjoying sandwiches that Gabriella prepared for us. They include vegetables, which Moon picks off with a look of distaste. Now I know why he didn’t put any on ours the night before. I smile at him for doing something so boyish. I also ignore what he just said and focus on why he’s here for a moment. “I didn’t think Gabriella liked me at all.”
“Besides me, Alex, and Theresa, I didn’t think she liked anyone.” His eyes are more of a glacial blue right now. He isn’t happy with the vegetables or his aunt. “You somehow garnered her protective instincts. Gabriella and my aunt are like two fighting pit bulls. When Danita brings the ladies, Gabriella takes the day off. The two of them have rubbed each other the wrong way since I was a boy.”
I file this information away. Gabriella must have worked for Moon’s father. “You didn’t seem to have a problem throwing me at your aunt.”
He wipes his lips with a napkin and watches me closely. “I had no doubt that you could hold your own with my aunt. She asked to meet you and I thought I would be here. It didn’t work out that way. She knows she messed up by bringing the women here without asking. She’ll be easier to deal with over the next few weeks while she tries to weasel her way back into my good graces.” He has already removed his jacket and loosened his tie. His cufflinks are silver and gold and very classy. I’ve never actually noticed a man wearing cufflinks before today. My father never did.
“No, your aunt doesn’t scare me. I just wish the first time I met her my face didn’t look like a pimp knocked me around. Her words, by the way.”
His gaze grows intense as he studies my face before slowly moving onto the rest of me. I’m back in the sundress and heels with the swimsuit underneath. As he looks me over, his eyes shift color to the darker haze that I’m beginning to understand. The inside of the house is cool, but it’s not the reason a shiver passes over my skin.
Moon makes no comment on my appearance. His eyes did that for him. “You should have kicked my aunt and her ladies out on their asses.”
His words barely register. I’m so caught up in the sexual intensity of his eyes that I’m wondering if I sat on his lap right now, would he take it several steps further. I try to control myself and pull my brain out of the gutter. I manage to respond to what he just said. “This is your home and Danita is your aunt. You asked me to give her a chance. That’s the only reason she doesn’t have a swollen face to match mine.”
Moon slides his hand across the table and grasps my fingers. “While you’re here, this is your home too. If someone needs the boot, be my guest. That includes my aunt.” He rubs the pad of his thumb over my wrist. A jolt of energy runs through me at his touch. The ring on his thumb offers a marked coolness compared to the warmth of his skin. “I doubt you’ll have additional trouble from Danita.” Moon tightens his grasp on my hand and pulls me closer. He runs the side of his other hand down my cheek. “I’ve seen you without the bruises and I know what’s underneath. These don’t detract from your beauty—they tell me you’re strong, a survivor.”
The words and the way he’s looking at me increase the electrical charge that’s traveling straight to my inner thighs. I’m unable to resist him and wonder why I even try. He’s leaving in a few minutes and I need to change the conversation or I’ll be a sexually deprived mess after he’s gone. I move the discussion back to something I find intriguing. “Why does Danita run the escort service?”
Moon lowers his arm and releases my fingers. We each take a bite of our sandwiches. I’m willing to give him time to decide if he wants to answer. He eats slow and sexy, savoring each bite. This doesn’t help my attempt at changing the subject. He wipes his lips and meets my gaze again.
“My aunt started the business before I was born. My father was not pleased. Her escort service was not as refined as it is now and there were always problems, mostly with the police. My father completely disowned Danita when I was a young child. After his death, a competitor tried to take over Danita’s business. The man was nasty and making life,” he hesitates, “difficult for her. My life had changed drastically and Danita contacted me. I stepped in and took control of the business. I needed the money back then and made some changes that have been very profitable for both of us.”
This is far more information than I expected. “Doesn’t the risk of arrest outweigh the financial gains?”
Moon’s lips tilt with a very slight quirk and I think maybe my question amuses him.
“You have no clue the amount of money these women make—think millions if they work hard. The professional sports teams in this state alone help keep us in business. And…” he gives me a reproachful look, “there is nothing illegal about offering a man paid companionship.”
It’s almost like he’s teasing me. “I’m supposed to believe that all they do is accompany men around the city?”
Moon’s eyes go wide and now I know he’s teasing me. “This is where your naivety comes in again.” He must see my eyes narrow at the word “naivety” because his voice softens. “There’s one client who pays women to eat in front of him. He’s been kicked out of restaurants for that particular fetish. He’s never had sex with one of the girls. They bring a fast food meal with them, sit at the table with him inches away, eat the meal, and leave. The list goes on. Yes, sex is sometimes involved.” At my look of disbelief, he amends his last statement. “Well, more often than not, sex is involved. We charge by the hour for the service we provide. That service is strictly to offer companionship. What an escort does during that time is her business. They keep one hundred percent of their tips and also a percentage of the hourly charge.”
I’m hung up on the story of a man with the eating fetish. Moon takes another bite of his sandwich and then I get it. Before Moon, I would have denied having my own fetishes. Now, I’m not so sure. I watch him eat and think about the women who work for him.
“Does it bother you that these women sell their bodies?”
Moon’s expression doesn’t change. He again wipes his lips before speaking. “What is the feminist movement about if not for women to choose what they do with their bodies? The women who work for me have that choice. Many do it to pay for college or simply want the finer things in life. And some, which I know you may find hard to believe, truly enjoy the work. A few of them take only one or two clients a week or have a couple of steady ones that they’re exclusive with. If they’re smart, they save money so they can retire while young. What happens between client and escort after the door closes is not my business as long as the women aren’t hurt.” His voice takes on a hard edge that I know isn’t directed at me. “You’ve seen how I feel about a man who mistreats a woman.”
I have and I actually approve. Oh, I want to argue the point about the women selling their bodies. Really, though, should I be making moral or legal judgments about these women? The rare prostitutes I dealt with in Sunnyslope were after their next fix. I never had one tell me they were trying to get through college or enjoy the finer things in life. Not that I think these are good excuses, but prostitution is one of those gray areas for me and Moon pointed out all the reasons why. I’ve always had a problem with the legal aspect of what I can do with own body if I hurt no one else. As a cop, it was my job to enforce laws and it didn’t matter if I agreed with those laws or not. I did my job. That doesn’t mean I didn’t give thought to my personal classification of right and wrong.
We finish our sandwiches in a comfortable silence. We’re sitting in the kitchen alcove again. Moon turns to me after depositing our plates and glassware in the dishwasher. I follow him with our glasses. He hooks an arm aro
und my shoulder and pulls me in close so my nose is at his throat and he can thread his fingers through my hair. His tone is husky when he speaks and I go all shivery. “Gabriella is cooking a special dinner for us. I would like to eat in the large dining room and ply you with Champagne.” His other hand is splayed over the straps of my sundress that crisscross at my back. I like how warm he feels against my cool flesh.
“Are you asking me on a date to your dining room this evening?” I tease.
His arms tighten the slightest bit and his voice loses its husky quality. “A date is where I take you outside of the house to a romantic location for dinner and you don’t have a problem being seen with me.”
I’ve put my foot in my mouth without realizing it. I continue inhaling his delicious scent, refusing to back down. “I think we’ll agree to disagree on the definition of a date.”
He moves his head back so he can look in my eyes. His have shifted to a much darker blue, and the sensual quality returns to his voice. “I plan on changing your mind about that definition, Miss Kinlock.” His head dips and his mouth moves over mine. I understand Moon’s kissing technique now. He likes to nibble before deepening a kiss. He also likes to leave me wanting more. He pulls back after a few gentle nips and his thumb runs down my cheek to my throat.
“What you’re wearing is perfect for tonight’s dinner. It’s sexy,” he whispers.
I want to be sexy for Moon.
I want to see what the night brings even more.
Chapter Twenty-Two