Take Me If You Dare. Candace Havens
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what she thought of when she imagined a Bangkok massage parlor.
Mar swallowed hard and concentrated on the old woman behind the high desk.
“You American?” she said in English.
“Yes.” Jackson gave her a devastating grin.
She looked him up and down as if he were a piece of beef for sale. “Prices here.” She pointed up at a board behind her.
If Mar’s currency exchange rates were right in her head, this would be a cheap night. Couples massage was listed in Thai, French and English, and it was only a hundred. There was a dash and then, EXTRAS $200 American Dollars.
Mar didn’t want to think about what EXTRAS meant.
“We want the couples massage. No extras,” Jackson told the woman.
That last comment caused her to choke, and Mar stifled a cough with her hand.
“You pay first.” The old woman stuck out her hand.
Jackson pulled out some bills, making sure to separate a twenty to tip the older woman.
She winked at him and then pushed a button so that a door to their left opened. “Third door. Green one. You undress then push button by bed. Girls there in a minute.”
Undress? Mar’s hands trembled and she stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans. As she followed Jackson down the hall, she seriously wondered why she’d thought it a good idea to catch dinner before they began investigating. Her stomach didn’t seem to want to play nice, and it gurgled in a not-so-sexy fashion.
Taking a deep breath, she moved through the door when he held it open for her.
This room was a bit more Zen than the entry. There were two massage tables with what looked like clean sheets and blankets. There was a place on the back side of the door to hang clothing. Two candles burned on a shelf with a variety of bottled oils.
Jackson unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on one of the hooks.
Mar gasped. The man was beyond gorgeous. Well-defined muscles on his back led down to narrow hips. What intrigued her the most were the scars. She was no expert but more than one looked like it had come from a bullet.
He glanced back to look at her. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Nudity doesn’t bother me like it does some people. I’ll get undressed and then lay down so you’ll have some privacy.”
Mar’s hands waved madly of their own volition. “It’s no big deal. We’re professionals doing what it takes to get the job done. And if we get a great massage in the process, who’s complaining?” The words were lame even to her but she couldn’t seem to shut up.
“So are we expected to strip all the way down?” She turned her back as Jackson unzipped his jeans. “I’m not sure if I should wear my underwear or not. I never am. It’s crazy. I get massages all the time, but I’ve never had the courage to ask.” She kept blathering on, to her own chagrin.
She heard him move. “I suppose it depends on the client and their level of modesty. Doesn’t bother me. My lower back’s giving me trouble so I’m losing the shorts. Okay, I’m on the table. I’ll keep my head to the wall until you are under the sheets.”
Mar glanced over at the table and her body trembled with need. The man was nothing short of a god in her book. The sheet barely covered his lower half and she could see the outline of the world’s most perfect butt. He was bronze and beautiful.
Head in the game. He’s going to think you’re some kind of perv if you keep staring at him like he’s a meal. She forced her fingers to pull the T-shirt she’d been wearing over her head. Then she lost the jeans, bra and finally the pink lacy thong. She’d never once had a massage completely nude. This would be an entirely new experience for her in more ways than one.
Hurrying, she slid under the cool sheets. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Jackson turned toward her. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”
“I know,” she said. “This is a bit unorthodox. I mean are we going to have to use the services of everyone we interview?”
Jackson chuckled. “That would be entertaining but time-consuming. No, it’s this place that caters to a certain level of clientele. I have a hunch we may find something out here. Don’t ask me why, but I always follow my hunches.”
It was a hell of a lot more than what she had to go on. “Well, what’s the worst that can happen? We get a massage. I’ve had worse assignments.” Not really, but she could at least pretend she had.
“You said it.” There was sadness, and perhaps a touch of deep regret in his voice, which made her look at him more closely. He sounded as if he’d been through hell.
Jackson pushed the buzzer and Mar took a big breath. This was going to be one to share with the girls back at the office. They’d crack up when they heard that she was naked in a room with a man getting a massage. She could almost hear Katie’s “Yeah, right. You had to get naked with a hot guy, and get a massage—for the job. Why can’t I get those kinds of cases?” Mariska smiled. Yes, her friend would give her a hard time, but if this worked and she found Gladstone, she’d also be proud of her.
Katie had made it her sole mission to protect Mariska, and to help her through one of the toughest times of her life when her mother had died. But that didn’t keep her best friend from joking with her.
Mar clasped her hands under her chin. She needed to focus. She didn’t want Jackson to think she was some kind of amateur.
You are an amateur. Yes, but he doesn’t have to know that.
She stole one more glance and found him smiling at her.
“Ready?” he said as the door opened.
No. She smiled back at him. What in the hell am I doing?
4
AS JACKSON WATCHED the masseuse run her hands along Mariska’s spine he had trouble concentrating on what they needed to accomplish here. It’s all about the job. He couldn’t think about her dewy soft skin, and the way Mariska moaned slightly when the woman hit a particular spot between her shoulders.
Did she make that sound during sex? It didn’t help that the room was filled with a spicy sandalwood scent from the candles and the oil. He wondered what it would be like if his hands caused that tiny but extremely effective noise.
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he thought a couples massage was such a great idea. Thanks to her moans it would be a while before he would be able to flip to his backside.
His purpose upon entering the room had been to chat up the two women working on them, but they refused to talk. It was almost as if they’d been told to keep quiet.
Mariska turned her head toward him and gave a sweet smile. “Honey, this was such a wonderful idea.” Mariska sighed happily. “I’m so glad your friend Mr. Gladstone recommended it.”
The tiny woman who’d been running her hands up and down his body had climbed up onto the table and held on to a large wire mounted to the ceiling as she used her feet to do the work of untying the knots in his back. At the mention of Mr. Gladstone, she’d paused.
“I’ll have to remember to thank him when I see him,” Jackson said. The repetitive footwork began again. “He must be busy with his meeting, since he hasn’t called yet. He was supposed to contact me this morning, but no one has heard from him.”
“Oh.” Mariska had thrown some worry into her voice. “I hope he’s okay.”
Jackson shot a glance at the woman working on Mariska and saw that she had a frown on her face, as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. He wondered if she had been the one to give Gladstone