Nancy stared at Kyle, looking confused.

“Of course she is,” Brad replied as she handed Kyle a bottle of beer. “She’s just a little tired out. Right, Nancy?” She laughed and rested her hand possessively on Nancy’s back. She eyed Kyle with interest.

“Isn’t this a little beneath you, Brad?” Kyle said, her voice like flint. “She can’t be much of a challenge for you, can she? A novice, and straight at that.” Kyle tipped her bottle to her lips and watched Brad carefully. She could detect no reaction behind Brad’s impenetrable facade. “I suppose after a while you lose your edge. You can’t really get it up to top someone who’s really a challenge.” She thought she detected a flash of anger in Brad’s dark eyes.

“There’s never been anyone here who could compete with me,” Brad said smugly. “Ask Dane, she’ll tell you how good I am.”

Kyle’s hands clenched around her bottle at the mention of Dane’s name, but she was determined to maintain her self-control. Everything depended upon it.

“There is now, Brad. I’m the only woman left who can top you.” She offered the challenge, knowing Brad would find it hard to refuse.

“What makes you think I’d let you?” Brad replied, clearly intrigued. No one had ever dared to suggest it.

“Because you know I can,” Kyle said flatly. “And if I can’t,” she continued, making the final gamble, “you can have me—any way you want.”

At last Brad’s composure cracked. She leaned forward, an eager hunger on her face. “And how is it decided. If you succeed?”

Kyle leaned forward until her face was very close to Brad’s. “I want you on your knees to me, Brad. I want to hear you beg.” Just like you had Dane.

Brad laughed. “You’re a fool. But even a fool can be interesting. When?”

“Right now,” Kyle replied. “But not here. At Encounters.”

Brad leaned back in her chair and stared at Kyle in amazement. What an advantage Kyle was giving her! Everyone at Encounters would see Kyle fail. And Brad could have her, right there in front of everyone! It was too good to turn down.

“Let’s go,” Brad said, standing. She looked coldly down at Nancy, who had been trying to follow their conversation. “I’m sure the ‘lady’ will find someone to look after her.”

“Go tell the bartender to call her a cab, Kyle ordered, her voice harsh.

Brad stared at her for a second, and then grinned. “All right.”

When she returned, Kyle led her through the crowd to the door.

As Caroline pulled the jeep into the curb she noticed Dane staring past her out the window. She followed her gaze and saw two women pull away down the street.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one,” Dane replied. She hadn’t seen Kyle in months, but her figure was unmistakable. As was Brad’s. Dane had been avoiding the bar the last few months. She couldn’t bear to see Kyle, night after night, and watch her change. Dane recognized the hardness in her face and the emptiness in her smile. Even as rumor spread about the ‘new top’, Dane sensed what was happening to Kyle. It had happened to her. The coldness that slowly smothered all feeling, the walls that surrounded all tenderness, until only emptiness remained. She wanted to warn Kyle, to tell her to keep searching, not to give up. Someone would come to love her—as Kyle had come to her. But she couldn’t. She was paralyzed by her own anguish, her own sense of failure. And so she had stopped going out, to avoid watching once again the inevitable ending to the age-old drama. The destruction of hope, the death of the innocence of the heart.

“Come on,” Caroline said, standing by the side of the car, holding Dane’s door open. “I finally got you here. Let’s go get a drink.”

Dane looked up, surprised to realize she had been drifting again. She seemed to lose track of things so easily these days. “Right,” she said, easing her long legs out of the cramped space under the dash. “I’m with you.”

They were there only a short time when Sandy approached them.

“Look you two, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a problem.”

Caroline and Dane both looked at Sandy in surprise.

“What’s the matter?” Dane asked.

“It’s that woman over there—Brad’s, uh, friend. Brad left her here and told me to get her a cab. But I can’t get anyone to drive her home. She lives way up the coast. Do you know somewhere she can stay? I hate to lay this on you, but I’m here until three, and she’s already wasted.”

Dane looked over, recognizing Nancy. “I’ll go talk to her,” she said.

“Wait a minute,” Caroline said, grabbing their beers. “I’m coming with you.”

Nancy looked up blankly when they joined her. “Hi there,” she said, her voice slurred. “Come to rescue the damsel in distress?”

Caroline smiled at her compassionately. “Are you all right, hon?”

“Oh, sure,” Nancy replied, searching in her purse for a cigarette. “Just fine. I’ve been deserted— and insulted too, I think.”

Dane reached over to light her cigarette. Nancy stared at the small black and gold lighter.

“Where did you get that?” she questioned.

Dane looked at the small object cradled in her palm. She smiled slightly. “From a friend.”

“Some friend,” Nancy snorted. “That ‘friend’ just left here with my — whatever she is.” She swallowed the rest of her drink and looked questioningly at Dane. “Buy a lady a drink?”

“In a minute. Tell me what happened here first,” Dane asked.

“Damned if I know,” Nancy said. “They were making some sort of bargain or something. I’ll do this if you do that—it didn’t make any sense. Kyle—” her voice broke suddenly. “Kyle was acting like some damn avenging angel. Out to save my honor.” She looked at Dane astutely, her eyes clear for a second. “Or someone’s honor.”

Dane swallowed tensely. “Tell me what she said.”

“Dane,” Caroline said, afraid for Dane, “let it go.”

“No!” Dane said vehemently. “Kyle doesn’t know Brad. She doesn’t know what she’s capable of.” She turned back to Nancy, her eyes hard. “Think! What did Kyle say?”

Nancy shook her clouded her head. “She said something about being the only left top-” she stopped, giggling. “No, that’s not right. The only top left? I know—the only one left who could top Brad.” She laughed without humor. “That’s a bitch, isn’t it? Top the perfect top.”

Dane stared at her. “What else?”

“Something about if Kyle couldn’t, Brad could do whatever she liked.”

“Oh, Christ,” Dane groaned. She turned to Caroline, her face set. “Can you take Nancy home with you?”

Caroline looked at her friend in alarm. “Of course, but where are you going?”

“I’m going after Kyle.”

“Where?”

“I know where,” Dane said grimly.

Caroline grabbed Dane’s arm, wanting to protect her. “Don’t get into it, Dane. It’s not your affair!”

“Oh, but it is, Caroline,” Dane replied quietly. “It always has been.”

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

KYLE MANEUVERED BRAD’S Mercedes quickly but calmly through the familiar streets. Brad sat silently beside her, studying the frozen planes of Kyle’s granite-like face. She was disquieted, inwardly uncertain. She slid her hand under the passenger seat and detached a small, slim container secured there. Kyle glanced over as Brad removed a small plastic bag from the box.

“No drugs,” Kyle said tersely. “I want to be sure you remember every detail.”

Brad stared at her, amazed. Kyle continued to watch the road. Brad hesitated for a moment and then replaced the contents of the container and slipped it back under the seat.

By the time they reached the Encounters, it was crowded. The tables ringing the center stage were full. People slipped in and out of the shadows near the scene rooms, while others jostled each other for a place at the bar.

“Nice crowd,” Kyle said nonchalantly. She was relaxed, sure of herself. She even began to enjoy the anticipation of what was to come. She ordered a drink and turned to Brad. “I left my motorcycle bag on the back seat of your car. Get it for me.”

Brad’s head snapped up, and she started to protest. Then she smiled. All right, if that’s the way Kyle wanted to play it. She could have her chance. It would make Brad’s victory all the sweeter. She left to retrieve the heavy black tank bag.

Kyle finished her drink leisurely, keeping her eye on the center stage. When several women approached it, preparing to start a scene, Kyle strode over to them.

“I’d like you to wait,” she said quietly. “I have something planned for Brad.”

The women stared at her. Kyle looked resplendent in tight leather pants, heavy biker boots and a white shirt open between her breasts. The top took note of the leather wristband on Kyle’s left arm and the keys dangling from a strap on her left side. She nodded curtly. “All right—but it had better be good.”

“Oh, it will be,” Kyle said as she turned away. She knew the word would circulate quickly through the bar that a heavy scene was planned. She stepped onto the stage, feeling many eyes upon her, and checked all of the restraints hidden in the shadows with care. When she turned around, the room was quiet.

Brad returned with Kyle’s bag, instantly aware of the change of atmosphere. When heads turned to stare at her, she felt perspiration break out on her back and under her arms. Now there was no turning back. Kyle awaited her on the steps of the stage. Brad walked toward her, her head high. Damn, she would not lower her eyes in front of everyone! As it was, Kyle had the advantage, being taller, and now she appeared almost statuesque, standing solidly above her.

“You can leave now, Brad,” Kyle murmured as she took the bag from Brad’s hand. “It’s your last chance.”

Brad knew how badly she would lose face if she turned away. She had to beat Kyle at her own game. If she refused to acknowledge Kyle’s dominance, she would win. No one would ever dare challenge her again. Kyle was the only one who had ever come close to taking her place in the dark shadow world of their nighttime lives. Not even Dane had garnered such a reputation as a top.

“No,” Brad said. “I still don’t think you can do it.”

Kyle merely nodded. Someone turned all the lights down, leaving the two of them outlined in the hazy red glow on center stage.

“Take your jacket off. Fold it neatly and lay it over a chair,” Kyle commanded.

Brad responded, not diffidently. She returned to stand before Kyle, her eyes belligerent.

Kyle turned slightly to one side, motioning for Brad to mount the stage. She heard matches flare behind her, bottles shuffled about on the tabletops. She stopped Brad midway between the side posts of the scaffold. She positioned Brad so that she faced the room.

“I want you to see them watching you,” Kyle said softly, her eyes cold. She placed her bag on a small ledge in the shadows and slid the long zipper down. The sound was magnified in the dark, quiet room. She removed wide, well-padded leather shackles, attached to short chains. She hooked the chains to the rings set into the wooden arches and returned to Brad.

Slowly, purposefully, she slipped a long, slim object from the inner pocket of her jacket. When the blade of the knife snapped open, it caught the reflection of the overhead lights and glittered in her hand. A murmur passed through the crowd. Brad’s eyes fixed on the blade in astonishment.

“You haven’t got the guts,” Brad whispered, so softly that only Kyle could hear her.

“Oh, but I do,” she replied, her eyes locked on Brad’s.

Kyle deliberately cut each button off the front of Brad’s shirt with a practiced flick of her wrist. When the shirt fell open, exposing Brad’s small firm breasts, Kyle leaned forward. She slipped her hand into the leather waistband of Brad’s pants, creating a space between Brad’s abdomen and the soft material. With her other hand, Kyle turned the knife sideways and slid the flat of the blade straight down along the underside of the zipper, leaving the gleaming black handle nestled against Brad’s stomach.

“Stand very still, now,” Kyle warned mockingly as she stepped back. Methodically she stripped off the remains of Brad’s shirt. While Brad stood naked from the waist up, the knife protruding from the top of her pants like a misplaced phallus, Kyle carefully applied the restraints to her ankles and wrists. She stood behind Brad, her face close to her ear.

“You can get out of these anytime you like. It’s your safe way out.” She waited a heartbeat. “And if you do—I win.”

Brad swallowed, all of her senses centered on the cold steel that lay along her skin, threatening to twist its razor-sharp edge against her at the slightest movement. It won’t work, she told herself. But still she felt the restraints on her arms as if they were bands of iron. Could she get out?