The Song Bird (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Beth D. Carter Read Free Book Online

down, pulling her onto his lap as he inspected her wrist.
    “Bruised,” he muttered darkly. “That bastard.”
    “I’m okay. I’ve been hurt worse,” she said. “What did he mean by making whores disappear? It sounded like…like he’d done it already.”
    “I wouldn’t put anything past that man,” he answered, but he didn’t meet her eyes, and she had the strangest feeling he knew the answer to her question, only he wasn’t sharing.
    Though she didn’t want to make her floor round, Jason stayed right by her side and held her hand as he escorted her through the waiting crowd, standing next to her like a bodyguard as she received well-wishes and praise. Men followed as she visited through the club, smiling as she visited next to each gambling station, poker, roulette, and many other games she didn’t recognize. One man asked her to blow on his dice.
    She thought the night would never end. She had gone from such a wonderful feeling, singing in front of a captive audience, to being terrified at the hands of Eugene Behr. Finally, her purgatory ended. Jason placed his hand in her lower back to escort her back to her dressing room, where he kissed her forehead and left her.
    Avilon came to a halt as she opened the door and saw Eli Masters waiting for her near the armoire, his light eyes staring at her with blue fire. Avilon squared her shoulders and shut the door behind her, moving to sit behind the vanity, where a washcloth sat beside a washbowl full of clean water. She dipped the cloth into it, wrung it out, and wiped her sweating brow.
    “Is your wrist okay?”
    “It’s fine. See?” She flexed it for him.
    “You changed the song.”
    “At the last moment, I thought the song would give a greater impact. It was written by Mozart, by the way, so you should still feel cultured.”
    She met his gaze in the mirror and saw him cross his arms.
    “Do you constantly not do as you’re told?”
    “I’ve learned I never accomplish anything if I allow people to lead me into what they believe is right.”
    She saw a ghost of amusement flicker over his face. “And the dress you’re wearing? You have an armoire full of choices.”
    “I didn’t have time to alter them.”
    She saw him uncross his arms as he made his way to her. Immediately, she rose from the vanity to face him. She thought about standing her ground, but something wicked glittered in his eyes. Unnerved, Avilon backed up until her shoulders hit the wall behind her. Eli advanced until he placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her.
    Avilon flattened herself, her pulse quickening as his unique scent hit her nostrils—distinctly male, a hint of spice and strong soap with a trace of sweat. She lifted her chin. “Mr. Masters, you owe me. I sang four songs, so by our agreement, you have to answer four questions.”
    “Very well,” he replied, his voice deep and rich. His eyes roamed over her face caressingly, but he didn’t pull away. “What’s your first?”
    She swallowed and had to actually think of what she was going to ask him. “Do you remember a woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes, about my height?”
    “You’ve just described the majority of the white women in San Francisco,” he answered with a touch of amusement. “Brown hair, brown hair, standing what, five foot five in bare feet?”
    “Granted, but what about six months ago? Surely you remember those girls.”
    “As I recall, of the eight girls working for me, there were six with the exact same likeness.”
    “What were those six names?”
    “I don’t recall. But I can get Jace to pull the accounting ledgers.”
    “You don’t remember the names of the women working for you? Very well, then. Yes, please,” she said. She rolled her shoulders. “I can’t believe it’s been so hard to find her. I thought I’d come here and Amelia would welcome me with open arms.”
    “What did you think would happen once you found her?” he asked quietly.
    She shrugged. “I