A Kept Woman. Sheri WhiteFeather
She already looked as though she starved herself.
“That sounds fine to me.” She rose to get her purse, which she’d left on the kitchen counter.
He turned to watch her, to wonder what her audition as a lap dancer had been like. Had she gotten the job? Zack couldn’t be sure. There were no tax records linking her to Halloway’s clubs, but that didn’t mean she and Halloway hadn’t cheated Uncle Sam, keeping Natalie’s earnings off the books.
She returned with a pen and paper and a tiny spiral-bound notebook she must have had in her bag. While she concentrated on a grocery list, he tried to evaluate her. Some of Halloway’s strippers turned tricks, but Natalie had snared the boss.
She handed over the paper, and he scanned the items she’d requested. She’d kept it simple, but she seemed more interested in buying clothes than food. Or taking off her clothes, he reminded himself. Halloway’s clubs were fully nude, with a reputation for being raunchy.
He came to his feet. “Are you sure this is all you want?”
She nodded. “Will you bring my suitcase in before you go?”
He grabbed his keys and went outside. When he came back, she was standing in the living room. The empty background nearly swallowed her whole, and suddenly he didn’t want to leave. Would she be all right by herself? Once again, she looked soft and vulnerable. Nancy Perris. Natalie Pascal. The woman who confused the hell out of him.
The following morning Natalie stood in front of a full-length mirror, assessing her appearance. With clammy fingers, she feathered her shorn hair. She still wasn’t used to being a blonde, but her hair wasn’t the only significant change. Her body was different, too.
Scanning her lean, almost shapeless figure, she smoothed her blouse. Her breast implants had been removed, but eye-popping cleavage would look ridiculous on her now. Besides, David had insisted on increasing the size of her bust. He’d chosen the doctor, booked the consultation and paid for the surgery. Natalie had merely stumbled along like a witless brunette, doting on his generosity. Not that she didn’t think women had a right to endow their bodies, to look and feel more attractive. But pumping up your breasts and squeezing into tight dresses to please a man wasn’t the answer.
With an exhausted sigh, she gazed at her haunted reflection. Brave talk for a woman plagued by nightmares. How many times a week would she have to relive the night of the murder? To remember what David had said to her after the shooting? To recall what he’d done? Natalie had been so shocked, so afraid, so mortally wounded, she’d never told anyone, not even the FBI. Not that it mattered. What had transpired between her and David wouldn’t change the outcome of his trial.
Still standing in front of the mirror, she frowned at the shadows under her eyes. She’d tried to cover them with a concealer, but remnants of a sleepless night still lingered.
Anxious, she glanced at the clock. Zack would be here soon. They’d made arrangements to meet at ten o’clock. She hated being at his mercy, but what could she do? Complain to WITSEC? Tell them her inspector was domineering and critical? Oh, sure. And maybe while she was spouting off, she could admit that she found him sexually stirring, too. That ought to earn her some respect. No, she thought. She wouldn’t involve WITSEC. If she complained, it would be to the man himself.
When the doorbell rang, she nearly jumped. Why did he have to make her so damn nervous?
She answered the summons, and he gave her a polite nod. A silent hello, she supposed. He wore casual clothes: a tan shirt, jeans, a lightweight jacket. He’d also donned a pair of sunglasses. She would prefer to see his eyes. She had the feeling he was scrutinizing her, checking her out beneath the dark shades.
“Ready?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, hoping she appeared more confident than her pounding heart allowed. Natalie kept telling herself that she wasn’t a fraud, but suddenly the idea of going to college seemed a bit too ambitious for a girl who’d barely gotten through high school. “Yes, I’m ready.”
He lit a cigarette, drawing hard and deep. “Then let’s go.”
She led the way to his car. David had been a smoker, too. “That’s a nasty habit.”
“What? This?” He exaggerated his next drag. “It keeps me sane.”
“It’ll probably kill you someday.”
“Beats being crazy.”
By the time they arrived at the Workforce Training Center and picked up a catalog, Natalie decided that having a lawman as an escort wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, but at least he was armed. Somewhere on his body, he carried a concealed weapon. Was it under his jacket? Holstered to his belt? She’d heard deputy marshals were taught to shoot from the hip. David used to enjoy discussing firearms. Guns were his passion.
“Do you want to see NIC’s main campus?” he asked.
“Sure.” She was curious about North Idaho College, even if the classes she attended would be at the Workforce Training Center.
On the drive to NIC, Zack smoked another cigarette. Natalie spotted the Factory Outlets Mall, but wasn’t about to bring it up. She didn’t want to spar with him again about her clothes. Already the notion of shopping with him weighed heavily on her mind. She would prefer to visit the mall on her own. Of course that meant giving up the comfort of his gun, but she would have to get used to that sooner or later. Zack wasn’t her bodyguard. He wouldn’t be living on her doorstep.
“When are you going to help me find a car?”
He stopped at a red light. “Getting antsy to get back on the road?”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
Before the light changed, he snuffed out his cigarette. “What did you drive in your former life?”
“A Mercedes.”
“Let me guess.” He turned to study her, then removed the dark glasses. “An SL500 convertible.” He glanced at the fancy buttons that adorned her blouse. “Silver, with a set of chrome twenties.” When she crossed her arms, his lips tilted in a barely there smile. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
Natalie shifted in her seat. The fact that he’d just described her last car, right down to the custom, twenty-inch wheels, set her on edge. What else had he figured out about her? “David didn’t buy it for me. It was leased.”
“Meaning what? That you got a new convertible every couple years?” He chuckled and crossed the intersection. “I think I’ll outfit you in a rusty old Pinto.”
She refused to laugh, to appreciate his sardonic sense of humor. “And I think I’ll outfit you with my fist up your nose.”
He had the gall to grin. “Now that I’d like to see.”
Me, too, she thought, as they arrived at the college.
Five minutes later, Natalie walked beside him, impressed by the spectacular view. NIC’s main campus was located on the shores of Lake Coeur d’Alene and the Spokane River. “This is nice.”
“The tuition is affordable, too.” He glanced her way. “Do you want to find a shady spot and look through that catalog?”
She agreed, even though she hadn’t realized that she’d brought the class schedule with her. Silent, they headed toward the nearest shore. The weather was warm, the breeze light and clean. The water stretched for what seemed like an eternity.
He chose a patch of grass beneath a tree. Overall, the campus was quiet, but she assumed summer sessions drew less students. She sat on the ground next to Zack, wondering if he ever picnicked by the lake. The last outdoor activity Natalie had planned had been on the day of the murder, the day David had destroyed her.
Zack moved closer. “Let’s take a look.”
Caught off guard, she opened the catalog. Suddenly she could