Freaky by Nature Read online

  He pushed himself off the wall and walked toward her. “We need to talk.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  Despite the severity of the situation, he grinned, surprised by her light humor. “This isn’t the first trouble you’ve had here, is it?”

  He sat next to her, careful not to invade her personal space. Close enough to feel the heat generated by her body, yet far enough away not to intimidate her.

  Her ponytail brushed his shoulder as she shook her head in silent denial.

  Determined to break past her resistance, he persisted. “What happened?”

  “I mentioned the bicycle implanted in the mirror and the flooding when we were at Cameron’s last month.”

  His mind flashed back to her confession. Not only did he and Sterling apprehend Cameron’s stalker that day, Brett saw Holly naked for the second time. He muddled through the sticky webs of lust and concentrated to remain blank. “There’s more?”

  “Yes. Last week, the locks were cut from every single locker in the ladies dressing room.”

  “Theft?”

  “No one reported anything missing.”

  He watched her tongue trace her bottom lip. He pressed his lips together to restrain his own tongue from chasing the moist path.

  “What else?”

  “Someone left a heartfelt message carved into the mirror in one of the rooms.”

  “Carved? Like etched in the glass?”

  She nodded and her teeth now gnawed that full, plump bottom lip.

  “What did it say?”

  Her eyebrows climbed her forehead as she gave him a startled look. “Why?”

  “I might be able to use the evidence.”

  “I took a picture for my insurance company. Would that work?”

  Brett paused a moment to consider her reaction. Why didn’t she want to show him?

  “I need to see it, Holly.”

  Her eyes narrowed and seemed to penetrate his suspicion. “The room is not for public use. If I show you, you can’t tell anyone.”

  “It’s in our contract.”

  She grinned at the irony of his assumption and stood to lead him out of the room. “We don’t have a contract. Max insisted.”

  Brett bit back his response. Sterling insisted? Or Cameron?

  Brett followed Holly down the main hallway, appreciating the long, smooth curve of her back that led to a tight, firm ass. The black exercise pants she wore wrapped her like a second skin and made his tongue numb. The swing of her hips mesmerized him. Even walking she had the grace of a dancer. His cock jumped. He squeezed his eyes closed and inhaled a deep breath.

  Holly stopped outside an opaque glass door and turned the knob.

  Brett frowned when they entered and he saw rowing machines, barbells and treadmills. “I’ve been in here.”

  She gave him a smirk over her shoulder as they walked toward another door in the back wall. “Yes, but not in this room.”

  Holly eased open the door and his cock screamed when he entered the room. Two rows of three metal poles stood bolted to the floor and the ceiling. Unable to speak, he stared like an idiot.

  She gave a light giggle. “You’ve figured out what goes on in here, haven’t you?”

  He turned to look at her, afraid that if he said it out loud it would all go away.

  “Stripping,” she answered for him.

  Brett beat his rabid libido over the head and attempted to at least look cool. “No kidding? You teach women to take off their clothes?”

  “No, I teach them sensual dance.”

  Show me. Brett almost swallowed his tongue to keep those words silent. His heart raced. In this room, on any given day, women gathered to learn how to make a man sweat. To make him so damn hot he’d boil in his own blood.

  “How many women?”

  “Several.”

  He wanted to fall at her feet and worship the ground she walked on. Not one stripper but several. “Anyone I know?”

  Holly shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He gave her what he knew to be his best you know you’ll tell me grin. “I’m going to need your membership roster anyway.”

  “All of Jack’s girls.”

  Brett cocked his head to the side. “So, if you’re the trainer, why do you dance?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then explain Madame.”

  “Madame only makes special appearances. She fills in when someone has other obligations.”

  Brett turned over her confession in his head several times. He didn’t know whether he was disappointed or relieved. Jack mentioned Madame wasn’t a regular, and Brett was immensely happy she just happened to fill in one of the nights he worked, but her explanation for last night wouldn’t check out.

  “All the dancers were present and accounted for last night, Holly.”

  She lowered her eyes and her voice. “Yes, they were.”

  Brett stepped closer and tipped her chin until her green eyes met his. “Why were you at The Cathouse?”

  She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them. Small gold flecks glittered in the depths. “Someone is after me.”

  Shock strangled him. He expected her to reveal financial difficulty, a gambling debt, hell, even sex addiction, not this.

  “A stalker?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any evidence other than the vandalism. You know I don’t get out much.”

  He released her chin and nodded his silent encouragement for her to continue.

  “I danced last night to see if anyone new showed up.”

  “What about Casanova on the catwalk?”

  “One of Jack’s regulars. I don’t think he’s responsible.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Just a feeling.”

  Brett took a few seconds to observe the other items in the room. A clothing rack occupied one corner. Another closet-sized cubicle was carved into the opposite wall. A dressing room, he assumed. A black, silky curtain covered the length of the back wall. “Is that the mirror?”

  Holly nodded.

  He zigzagged through the poles and drew back the curtain. Just as Holly had explained, a message was etched into the glass.

  BURN IN HELL

  Anger chased arousal from his system. “Why didn’t you call us before now?”

  “I really didn’t think too much about it. Stripping is not exactly accepted as art by everyone. There are some pretty close-minded people in the world.”

  As much as he conceded her point, Brett’s rage still held him by the balls and he fought to remain calm. “This is serious. No more dancing until I figure out what the hell is going on. Lock this door and keep it locked.”

  Holly bobbed her head in agreement. “I’ve already told the girls we’d practice at the club.”

  She laid a cool hand on his forearm. “Please don’t tell Max.”

  Her soft plea distracted his anger. “About Madame?”

  Her cheeks flushed in response.

  “I won’t mention Madame, but I have to fill him in on the rest.”

  “Of course.”

  He thumped the nearest pole. “You really practice on this thing?”

  She smiled. “Behind closed doors.”

  “Women with your talent aren’t usually shy.”

  “I wear a mask, Brett. No one knows who I am. Besides, I only do it once in awhile. Do you know what that knowledge would do to my business?”

  “Probably increase it ten-fold.”

  “Hardly. Let’s just keep it under wraps.”

  Brett breathed a sigh of relief as she closed and locked the door. The fewer men who ogled her body, the better.

  “You’re on your way home, right?”

  She shrugged. “Guess so. I’ll come back later to finish the pool.”

  The despondence in her eyes challenged him to pull her into his arms and kiss it all away. Instead, he took a lesser gamble. “Will you call me first?”

  H
e braced himself for her defiance, and almost fell over when she answered.

  “Maybe.”

  Careful not to react, he simply nodded. “Good enough.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  With her head pounding, Holly rushed inside the house and threw her bag onto the sofa, resisting the urge to follow suit and lose herself in unconsciousness. Instead, she grabbed two thick books from the bookshelf over the sofa and sat down at the kitchen bar.

  She took a couple deep breaths before she reached for a bottle of aspirin and dumped two tablets in her hand. She closed her fist and juggled the tablets against her palm. Knowing good and well they wouldn’t ease her pain, she tossed them on her tongue and swallowed anyway.

  Ever since the accident that presented her with her unique talent, she wished she was color blind. Holly opened the first book, one she avoided since graduating from college with her psychology degree. Surely buried somewhere in the depths of Exploring the Human Mind there was a logical explanation why all the colors in the universe taunted her. And what did they mean?

  She turned page after page until something caught her attention. Holly bit her lip as she scanned the paragraphs. Colors affect mood. That much she knew. That’s why color enveloped every single person in the universe. Her thoughts turned to Brett. This morning, he walked into the gym bathed in pink. She giggled. Probably not his first choice.

  Reading further down the page, she frowned. No psychological explanation for pink, just red. Love, anger, desire. She paused. His color had strengthened from pink to red. Her assumption that he had been angry about being summoned was correct. But what about the other colors: gray, green, yellow, blue? She flipped the page. No gray, but black. Power, evil, death. Once she read the explanations for each of the other colors, she was doubly frustrated.

  Instinct had taught her that the colors she saw represented not only mood, but aura. However, it wasn’t quite so easy to take the explanation from her psychology book and apply it to the real world. The colors that surrounded Brett were not so cut and dry. The colors didn’t stand alone. Instead, they mingled together and seeped into a glowing ring around him. Every once in a while, one color was more dominant. A mood change, she assumed.

  Holly slammed the book closed and pushed it across the counter. Although the second book lay inches from her reach, she hesitated before dragging it close. The Art of Aura. She snorted. Art. Right.

  She exhaled and opened the book to the color chart in the middle. Bright pink, compassion; dark pink, immaturity or dishonesty. Her brow wrinkled. Was he bright pink or dark pink? She rubbed her forehead. Bright. Compassion? He felt sorry for her? She read further. Gray, fear. Fear? She wouldn’t have used fear to label Brett’s mood. And what about the green? She glanced at the chart. Dark green, bluish green, emerald green. Which was it?

  Holly shoved the open book across the counter and dropped her head into her hands. Damn this curse. She never should have called for help. The one time she let her guard down and decided to let someone in, she sentenced herself to this familiar punishment. Being alone certainly had its advantages. Now there was no possible way to escape the tormenting color.

  She lifted her head and winced as another thought assaulted her mind. Color wasn’t the only thing she saw. This time, piercing flashes of light and distorted pictures appeared. Why? Holly wanted to scream as she stood and put the books back on the shelf. She was just too exhausted to care.

  Just as she decided to give in to her exhaustion, her cell phone jingled from the depths of her bag. She found the phone and plopped down on the couch as she read the caller ID. Cameron. The one totally real person she knew.

  “Holly!” Cameron said breathlessly. “Max told me what happened. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Cameron.”

  “You’re not still at the gym are you?”

  “No, I came home.”

  “Alone?” Cameron shrieked.

  “Relax, I won’t be here long. I’ve got to go back to the gym in a little while and there’s a policeman outside the front door.”

  “You’re going back? Seriously, Holly, you shouldn’t be there alone.”

  “Somebody has to clean up the mess.”

  “Max knows people. He’ll call someone.”

  “What will I do until I can re-open?”

  “Come by my office. I’ll put you to work.”

  Holly paused, unusually tempted to accept Cameron’s advice. Throwing caution to the wind, Holly made a rash decision. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Good. Oh, Holly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Bring a bag of potato chips.”

  ***

  A niggling sense of disbelief fluttered in the pit of Holly’s stomach as she drove across town to meet Cameron. It was still not only hard to digest the idea that Cameron’s business partner, Rachel Newberry, had married rock-n-roll icon, Jaydon Hawke, but that Hawke led a double life, using the rock star persona to work undercover. Although Hawke had amazing musical talent, his true loyalty belonged to his SEAL brothers. And Holly discovered quickly how close the team members really were when Cameron recommended Holly as Rachel’s trainer. Rachel and Cameron managed to wiggle past her resistance to friendship and embrace her with open arms. Still, even they didn’t know the truth about her.

  Holly smiled contentedly as she parked and entered the high-rise office building. Nothing better than a little girl time to distract her warped mind for awhile.

  “Don’t get up, Cameron,” she yelled as she opened the door to Newberry & Tremaine, “it’s just me.”

  She eased the door closed and made her way down the hallway to Cameron’s office, baffled by the lack of color in the atmosphere. Normally, Cameron’s dramatic personality filled the air with loud, bright orange and yellow patterns. Holly twisted her lips. Cameron probably had no idea her aura controlled her interior decorating expertise.

  She glanced toward Rachel’s drafting table in the corner of a second office. Again, the color refused to surface. Rachel’s flair for architecture usually presented itself in soft tones of green and blue, enhanced by her nature to remain calm and controlled. It amazed Holly that she managed to do that married to a rock star.

  Holly stopped short in the doorway of Cameron’s office and stifled a giggle.

  “Don’t worry,” Cameron said from the depths of her chair, “I couldn’t get up if I wanted to.”

  Holly pursed her lips and concentrated on Cameron’s swollen stomach as she struggled to change positions. Still no color. “Are you stuck?”

  “No, just call me roly-poly.”

  Holly handed Cameron the bag of potato chips as she sat down in a chair in front of Cameron’s desk. “It’s probably too many of these.”

  “Probably,” Cameron agreed, “but who really cares?”

  Holly shrugged and grabbed a handful of chips. “Where’s Rachel?”

  “With a client.”

  “Hawke let her go alone?”

  Cameron snorted. “Hardly. Max is with her.”

  Holly lifted an eyebrow. “And you’re here alone.”

  “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, Holly.”

  Holly giggled. “True.”

  “Besides, Brett’s on standby.”

  Holly paused with a potato chip inches from her lips. “Brett?”

  Cameron nodded. “Apparently he drew the short straw.”

  Hopefully he wouldn’t make an appearance. That’s all she needed, Brett Steele and his dangerously beautiful body to remind her why she was so stupid to shun him. “I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

  Cameron shrugged. “Like I said, I’m only leaving if someone rolls me.” She bit off a piece of one chip, chewed, and swallowed. “So, you need a job for a couple of days.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Great!” Cameron pushed a pile of papers across the desk. “Start folding.”

  “What are these?”

  “Flyers for Hawke’s annual Professionals for People c
oncert. You’re going, aren’t you?”

  Holly kept her eyes glued to the multi-colored pages in front of her. She almost felt guilty for what she was about to say. Both Rachel and Cameron used their talents to design homes for the less fortunate in Diablo, and Hawke’s influence funded the endeavor. Although she respected the hard work dedicated to the charity, Holly didn’t allow herself to participate in the festivities. The risk was too great.

  “Probably not. I just planned to make my usual donation.”

  As usual, Cameron refused to be swayed. “You really need to get out more, Holly. Hawke puts on a pretty good show.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Besides,” Cameron pushed, “Brett needs a date.”

  Holly’s stomach flip-flopped. “No.”

  “That was a pretty quick no.”

  Holly glanced at Cameron and gave her a slight smile. “I don’t need a date. If I go, I’ll keep you and Rachel company.”

  Cameron raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Brett’s probably much more fun.”

  “Stop or I’ll take the chips.”

  Cameron snatched the bag from the desk in her true dramatic flair. “Whatever you say, Holly. Your sex life can suffer before I starve.”

  Holly’s mouth fell open. “My sex life?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m pregnant, not blind. And Brett Steele is one hot specimen.”

  “Cameron!”

  “What? All Max’s SEAL pups are definite eye candy. Ask Rachel.” Cameron fanned herself with a flyer. “Is it hot in here?”

  “No.” Holly giggled. Cameron always made her feel so … normal. “What else can I do for you?”

  “We’ve got four houses to complete before the concert. Hawke will cut the ribbons that evening before the show. Max won’t let me do too much more than watch. Can you sling a paintbrush?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good! I’ve scheduled you and Brett for this evening.”

  Paper slid across the desk as Holly jerked in shock. “What?!”

  “You can’t do it alone and he’s already volunteered.” Cameron smirked. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Like swimming with sharks,” Holly mumbled as she re-stacked the paper.

  Cameron’s blue eyes sparkled. “Just don’t swim naked.”