Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (12 page)

Last but not least, I called Agent Smith and gave her a brief update, but left the bribe out. As much as I didn’t really care whether Alison and her firm would get caught up in this, I didn’t feel the need to actively dish on her involvement if it could be prevented. In their own way, Alison and Ray Moss had both contributed heavily to Darren’s plan to drag me into his basement, but they had also helped me. So, for now, I was happy to give them the benefit of the doubt. And, if nothing else, Alison’s hint that if Darren was beyond saving she would take the consequences sounded like, just maybe, she’d help me if my dear agent wouldn’t come through with her promises. After all, we were business partners now—or as soon as she handed my card over to anyone who booked an appointment later—and that came with certain expectations.

With everything arranged for tomorrow, I was tempted to spend Saturday in my suite, but restlessness drove me out onto the streets to wander the city aimlessly. More than once I felt like someone was watching me, but no amount of stealthily checking over my shoulder yielded any results. It made me antsy and afraid, to the point where I almost wished for Darren to suddenly pull me into the next dark alleyway and ravish me against the wall, even if that ended with him not just pretend-choking me.
 

I idly wondered if I should seek professional help.
 

I also wondered if this was akin to the obsession that he’d developed with me.
 

I certainly felt like that was true, as early on Sunday morning—after my usual swim and extensive pampering session—I slipped on my outfit of choice and took the elevator down to the parking deck. And there it waited for me, my new baby—a midnight blue Jaguar, ready to purr at my command. I’d wanted one just like Darren’s, but that had proven to be impossible—so I’d opted for a top-of-the-line, snazzy new model instead. Definitely not the car to drive this time of year, but you only live once, right?

The steady, low rumbling of the engine had a soothing quality on my mind, but calm was a long way from coming as I eased the sleek car through the still familiar streets outside the city center. Here, it didn’t really stand out—and even with the price tag it had come with, it was positively cheap compared to some other behemoths that were rolling out of car ports along the way—although I felt like a perfect creeper when I parked it at the curb a few houses down from Darren’s driveway. As I sat there, the fingers of my left hand idly drumming on the wheel, those of the right convulsing around the supple leather, I couldn’t help but wonder—what would have become of me if I hadn’t started to snoop? Hadn’t gone back to check on Adam? Hadn’t antagonized Darren and threatened to leave him?

The answer was probably obvious—exactly the same as had actually happened, just a week later, or maybe a month. Sooner or later, I'd have made a mistake, and then my time would have been up. In retrospect, it was easy to see how he’d manipulated me from the very start, but that didn’t ease the pressed feeling welling up inside my chest. I’d had dreams—big dreams. Stupid dreams. The dreams of a lost girl that thought she had been found. And now all that remained was the ring on my finger, the scars on my skin, and a need that was as deep-seated as it was confusing.

I wondered what had become of James, the impertinent butler. Was he still around? Was he sneering at Daliah’s every move, like he’d done with me? Or had Darren decided that he was just one more liability for him, one more person who knew too much to be safe? Of all the people who had helped me, he had been my most unlikely ally, but if he’d had a mind to detain me, I would never have made it out of that basement. Starved, weak, and hurt as I’d been, a child could have managed to keep me locked in there.

My musing was cut short when I saw the gate start to open, my signal to get going. I still waited until the gray car ambled out onto the street before I started the engine, following slowly. They were too far ahead of me to make them out in the car, but from the aggressive swerve into the lane that would lead us to the highway, I knew that Darren was behind the wheel—opting to drive himself rather than use his chauffeur.

Apparently in some things we still were alike.

I let myself drop back a little farther as the light morning traffic engulfed us. I wasn’t even sure why I’d thought this stalkerish move was a good idea—I knew where the gray car was headed, and it wasn’t like I couldn’t have found my own way. Yet as I continued to follow, idly switching lanes when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t help but feel my pulse pick up slowly. Sure, the plan was to continue to get under the girl’s skin—but really, what I was looking forward to was to have his eyes devour me again. That intensity, that need… just thinking about it drenched my panties. And made me rue the fact that I only had one can of Mace in my purse, with no backup plan to defend myself.

As we left the city behind, more and more cars fell back, making my trailing them more obvious. Glaringly obvious, really, when Darren seemed to have enough of obeying the law and gunned his engine, sending the sleek car streaking ahead. Now, couldn’t have that, could I?

My Jaguar’s engine purred as I put more pressure on the accelerator pedal, making the entire car vibrate lightly as it picked up speed. Half a mile, and I was close enough to read the number plate; another mile, and a slight left-leaning curve got him to decelerate enough that—ignoring the obvious risk to life and limb—I managed to close the gap between us completely. Swerving into the lane to his left, I floored it, sending my car rushing ahead. I couldn’t take my eyes off the road to check if he was noticing me, but as soon as I was in the lead, I swerved back into the other lane, right ahead of him. I was sure that would do the trick.

Rather than slow down, I continued to speed ahead, and, wouldn’t you know it, he kept right up with me. Whether it was simple rivalry not to let a slightly newer car leave him behind, or if he’d actually recognized me, I didn’t know, but the manic grin spreading on my face told me that it didn’t matter.
 

Caught in the adrenaline rush, I almost missed my exit, only making it by luck—and sacrificing most of my lead. Yet as soon as my Jaguar hit the country road leading up to our destination, I pushed ahead again, not giving a shit about possible traffic patrols. The road was dry but the cold was leaving it slicker than was good for the break-neck speed I was going—but Darren didn’t let me shake him. In the rear-view mirror I caught a glimpse of Daliah being obviously upset about his behavior, but his eyes remained straight on me, not ready to give quarter.

My nav system told me that I was running out of road, with only two more miles to go. Darren set to overtake me, but I floored it again, barely managing to remain on the road in the next bend as it was. Suddenly, there was a car right in front of mine, going the other way. Only sheer luck let me wrench the wheel over, sending my car back on the right side of the road. Air whooshed out of me, my mind momentarily frozen, and Darren used that chance to try to pull ahead. Yet the next bend was a right one, and as soon as my tires got traction as the Jaguar shot out onto the following straight, I raced ahead, making it impossible for him to eat those last few inches to force me to a stop—or total both cars. Not that I wasn’t tempted, but with euphoria racing through me, suicide was the farthest thing from my mind.

To the left, the even smaller road leading up to the country club branched off, and a last bout of speed had me pull into it ahead of him. My tires hit gravel in the maneuver, spewing it across Darren’s windshield, making me wince. The beautiful car really didn’t deserve that treatment.

Grinning like a madwoman, I forced myself to slow down as I approached the open gate, then came to a stop in front of the valet booth. Allowing myself a brief exhale to steady my breath, I grabbed my purse and slid out of the seat, a little winded but otherwise feeling perfectly put together. I allowed myself only a passing glance at the car rolling to a halt right at my rear fender, before I smiled at the valet—a boy barely old enough to shave—and handed him the keys, a hundred-dollar bill folded underneath. “Take good care of my girl,” I purred at him, then stalked up the stone steps to the entrance of the adjacent building, leaving him staring after me—while Darren had to cool his heels as there was only one valet present. A glance over my shoulder let me know that yes, he had recognized me, and his eyes were still following me. Meanwhile, Daliah had to get her own door, a fact that she protested loudly, which went completely unnoticed.

I took my time strutting into the foyer, giving my tail a chance to almost catch up to me by the time I reached the reception area. I’d called ahead, and a harassed member from the club committee was waiting for me there—if I had to guess the woman I had been on the phone with just days ago. She was quick to ooh and ahh over me, wishing me welcome and all around being very fussy about expressing how pleased they were to have me as a member. Of course, that forced her to completely ignore Daliah—as only a plus one, and that of a longtime member, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone. But seeing the sour look on her face deepen was like balm on my soul. I also caught the look Darren sent me—faintly amused, but definitely holding a “do you really need to do this?” quality to it that I pointedly ignored. Before I let the woman bustle me away to give me a tour, I winked at him, which made his smile widen just a hint.

Ah, this was so going to be worth it.

I barely listened to the woman chattering away, but instead scanned the faces of the people we met. It was early still, but what I figured were regulars were already around, enjoying tea or coffee with their conversations—not that much outdoor activities going on this time of year. I recognized a few, and I was sure that they were, in turn, informing the ignorant ones about who I was. Not that my appearance here actually made much of a splash, seeing as I was dressed according to the demure standards and not hanging on anyone’s arm, but I was noticed—and that was the point.

I only tortured the woman to put up with me until we were approaching the always-open bar, where I thanked her profoundly again for so speedily accepting me as a new member—making the fake smile on her face look even more pained—before I sent her scurrying back to where she had come from. As I approached the bar, I saw the bartender glance after her with a bemused look on his face, but it held not a thread of sympathy.

“Scotch on the rocks,” I told him with a bright smile. “And don’t skimp on the good stuff.” After that drive, I needed a stiff drink, and as I had intentions to remain here until I had to leave for Brigitte’s, I might as well go all in.

“Wouldn’t dare, Mrs…?” he offered, already getting the ice ready.

“Miss,” I corrected, letting my smile widen seductively—just because. A girl needs to keep her edge sharp, right? “And Penelope will do. I’m not big on formalities.”

“Very well, Penelope,” he acknowledged as he handed me the drink, perched on a small napkin. His eyes skipped from my face to focus on something behind me, making me immediately assume a still relaxed but less slouchy position. “Looks like you’re the hot new commodity here.”

A few people came to mind who that could have been applied to, but I was still surprised when it was Ray Moss who slid onto the bar stool to my right. Not exactly a pleasant surprise, but realistically, it had been only a matter of time for him to make a move on me.

“The usual, Peter,” Ray told the bartender—who was already reaching for the vermouth, I noticed—before he turned that sleazy smile of his at me. “Wish I could say the same to you, Penelope, but my wife tartly informed me that this won’t sit well with her. And who in their right mind would antagonize my wife?”

I let all the warmth seep out of my answering smile, not bothering with offering the sneer he actually deserved. Ray really wasn’t worth it, even if I wished I could suppress the urge of having to clean myself repeatedly just sitting next to him.

“You’re blacklisted,” I told him, not without glee.

“Oh, you wound me,” he said, frowning theatrically, but already that inane grin was breaking through again. Accepting his drink from the bartender, he snorted, and went on talking to him. “Who would have thought that whores can be so picky sometimes? Don’t you think that speaks of bad work ethics?”

I had to work hard not to gnash my teeth, but the bartender seemed completely nonplussed about that revelation—if it even was one. I didn’t hold it above that hag from the committee to have made sure that their entire staff was primed.

The bartender underlined his general laissez-faire attitude by not even blinking an eyelash.
 

“It does sound like standards to me,” he replied, making me snort behind my
 
glass.
 

Ray didn’t bother glaring at him, just continued to beam that jovial grin at me. “What exactly did my wife and you talk about? And don’t even bother denying that you swept by her office on Friday.”

Ah, so he wasn’t just around to annoy me.

“None of your concern,” I told him, trying to shut down any further need of his to harass me—as if that was even possible.

“But it is my concern if it concerns me,” Ray offered.

“It doesn’t,” I assured him. He opened his mouth to contradict me, but I spoke right over his beginning protest. “Don’t think that what happened between you and me has any impact on anything. But, back then, if I had had a say about who gets kicked off the client roster, your name would have been struck from the books faster than you can ooze your charm all over the unlucky recipient of it. Now that I am in charge, I don’t see why I should subject any of my girls to that. I think your wife approves, but that wasn’t the reason she asked me to drop by.” Pausing, I smiled, then added, “You’re by far not important enough to either of us to warrant calling for a meeting.”

It was cruel of me to underline that fact he was well aware of, but I had no qualms when it came to Ray. As expected, my barb had no effect on him.

“So you’re not going to tell me?”