“Meet me back here in two hours,” he says. “I’ll have Martin send some lunch up to you.”
I can only nod as he walks away.
* * *
At the designated time, I return to the foyer. I wish I could say I spent our hour apart doing something productive, but all I managed to do was change into dry clothes—jeans and a tank top, which seem a little more practical for hide and seek than another sundress—and fret about our impending game. Even now, I’m not sure I should have agreed to this. There’s still time to back out, to run back to my room and lock the door and end this madness before it begins.
But refusing to play means giving up on the Center—or so I tell myself.
I stand against the wall as I wait. Calder is late. I wonder a little about the business that took him away so urgently, but maybe it’s better that I don’t know. I suspect anything I learn about the way he handles his affairs will only make me angry, and right now I want to forget how much I hate him.
I glance down at my phone. It’s ten minutes past the time we were supposed to meet. What if he changed his mind? What if he decided this was a stupid idea after all?
The message icon is flashing in the corner of my phone’s screen. Garrett called again about an hour ago, and this time he left a voicemail. I considered calling him and reminding him to consult my dad with any questions or concerns, but I’m afraid that even that much of a response will only encourage him. I knew I was opening a big fat can of worms when I dialed his number, but I won’t fall into the trap of allowing open communication between us again.
“Is something wrong?”
I nearly drop my phone at the sound of Calder’s voice. He’s managed to sneak up on me while I’m standing here fretting about Garrett.
“I’m fine,” I say, smiling up at him. No need to bother him over my crazy ex. “But you’re late.”
“A terrible crime.” He takes my hand and brings it up to his lips. “Tell me, how do you plan on punishing me?”
I disentangle myself before he gets me too worked up. I have a game to win.
“We can worry about punishment later,” I say. “Right now, we have more important business.”
His eyes darken. “Indeed.”
I look down at my phone. “We should go ahead and set our alarms for an hour from now.”
He pulls out his own cell and follows suit.
“Set another for ten minutes from now,” he says. “So you’ll know when your head start is up.”
“Just to be clear,” I say, determined to avoid any miscommunication this time around, “the game is over when the final alarm goes off, or when you catch me. Whichever happens first.”
He nods. “Correct.”
“I think we should define what constitutes a capture,” I say. “It’s not enough to spot me across a room or a hallway right before the alarm goes off.”
He smiles. “You mean that I’m required to have you in my possession.”
The way he says that final word sends a tiny thrill through me.
“You at least have to touch me,” I say.
“I’ll touch you any way you like,” he says, a gleam of amusement in his eye. “But yes, I think it’s a fair rule.”
I nod. That’s settled, at least.
“Anything else we should go over?” I ask. “Anywhere in the house that’s off limits?”
“I know better than to answer that,” he says, “or you’ll head straight there.” He glances down at his phone, then back at me. “And I’m willing to discuss whatever else you want, but I think it’s only fair to point out that your ten minutes are ticking away very quickly.”
Shit. I twist away from him, but not before catching the devilish anticipation that sweeps across his face. The asshole thinks he’s won already.
I run to the nearest door. I have no idea where it leads, but there isn’t time to stop and consider. This is my final shot to win back our money. I need to win.
“Don’t worry,” he calls after me. “You’ll enjoy the night I have planned for you.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I have seven minutes left and absolutely no plan.
This house is huge, and Calder's tour did little more than make it clear that it would take me a year to learn my way around this place. I have no idea where I'm going, let alone where I might find a suitable place to hide.
All the same, something surges through me as I run down the hallway. In spite of everything—and even though it's completely crazy—I think I’m as excited as Calder by our little game. More than excited—enthralled.
Maybe I should let him catch me. The promise of his words still echoes through my mind. If I wanted, I could be at his mercy all night. The prospect tempts me more than I want to admit.
But reality hits me quick and hard: I can't allow myself to be caught up in this. There's too much at stake. The Center's entire future falls on the outcome of this “little” game, and I'm not going to let my own weakness destroy the thing my dad worked so hard to build. Calder is sexy, yes, and our encounter in the car was probably the best sex I've had in my life, but this is only lust. Lust and self-indulgence.
I run up a flight of stairs. My only strategy right now is to get as far away from Calder and the foyer as possible. The further I run, the longer it will take him to get to me, and in this game every minute counts. Maybe it's better if I don't hide at all, but continually change my location—after all, a moving target is much harder to hit.
My cell buzzes in my pocket. Is my head start up already?
I turn down another hallway and run all the way to the end. Calder will be leaving the foyer now. At the very least I need to find somewhere out of the main thoroughfare where I might bide my time. It won't do me any good to go noisily sprinting down the corridors.
Without even thinking, I find myself heading in the relatively familiar direction of my bedroom. It's not until I'm outside the door, however, that the thought hits me: I should sneak into the secret passage. It’s perfect—I can wait behind the walls and possibly even spy on Calder's progress in the meantime.
I dash over to the fireplace and grab the poker. The panel swings open, and I quickly duck into the passage, pulling the door closed behind me. I yank my phone from my pocket and use the dim glow from the screen to light my way as I move through the dark.
I'm supposed to be concentrating on my goal, thinking of the Center and the money I'll win back for us, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the last time I was here. Just the memory of my naughty spying session sends blood rushing to my face. I’m glad there’s no one here to see me.
I recognize the way the passage curves just before Calder's room, and I stop and lean against the wall. This is as good a place as any to hole up for a while. I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. It's been six minutes since the first alarm went off. Fifty-four minutes to go.
I sit down and lean my head back against the wall. The floor is cold and hard, but all in all I can think of a dozen less comfortable places to spend the next hour. At least I'm not twisted and cramped in a cabinet somewhere or something.
I can do this. I can win back the money for the Center. In the long run, it doesn’t matter that I had sex with Calder—I can make up for the craziness of the last two days in the next hour. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and wait.
* * *
Seventeen minutes later, I hear footsteps.
My head jerks up, but even then I have trouble placing their location. Are they coming from above me? On the other side of this wall? The sound bounces around the passage, and only one thing is clear: wherever they are, they're getting closer.
I draw my knees up to my chest and wait, rigid. My mind is racing. Should I stay here like this? Or should I try to spot him through the spy holes along the walls? If I move, there's a chance he'll hear me, but it would give me an advantage to see and know exactly where he is.
In t
he end, he makes my decision for me. Just when I'm about to make a move for the spy holes, my ears finally pick up on where he is, and it's no wonder it took me so long to place him.
He's in the passageway with me.
Shit! How did he find me so fast? Did he slip a tracking device on me or something?
But no, I realize too late that he probably had the same idea I did. He wanted the secret vantage points these passageways offered. I'm an idiot for underestimating him in his own house.
He's too close now. There's no time to run. If he hears my footsteps he'll chase after me, and he proved back on the first night when he tackled me outside that he can outrun me. No, my only chance is to remain hidden and hope he walks right by.
I move slowly to my feet. Farther down the passage I see the soft blue light of his phone bouncing off the darkness. I sidle along the wall, feeling behind me for any nook or cranny where I might duck out of sight. After a few desperate moments I find a little alcove, and I manage to squeeze inside just as Calder comes around the curve in the passage.
I hold my breath as he strides toward me. He holds his cell phone out to light the way for his feet, and the light moves over the spot where I was sitting just a moment ago. At least I made the right decision in moving.
He stops next to the spy holes that look onto his bedroom. In the dim light, I can just make out his face. The way the shadows play across his jaw and cheekbones only enhance the intensity radiating from his eyes. There's no doubt he means to find me—and have his way with me. A shiver races down my back.
I watch him lean forward and peer through the slits in the wall. Arrogant asshole. Does he really think I'd be dumb enough to hide in his bedroom? I want to laugh, and I bite down on my lip to stifle the urge.
He turns back around, and I press myself as much against the wall as I can. For a moment I'm sure he's seen me—but then the blue light passes over my hiding spot and moves further down the passage, and Calder's footsteps recede as he continues on his way. As soon as the light disappears, I release the breath I've been holding.
That was close. Too close.
My heart is thumping madly in my ears. I curl my hands into fists and press them against my thighs.
I should be nervous after coming so close to losing, but my body has a different reaction. Once more, I have to fight down the urge to laugh—Calder doesn't even have to touch me or look at me and he still manages to turn me on.
But I can't risk another close encounter like that. Especially if I'm getting aroused by the thought of him catching me. If he's using the system of passageways, then I need to get out of here. I don't know where they lead or how far they extend, but there's no guarantee he won't come back this way. Better to move away from him.
I start down the hallway in the opposite direction of Calder, back toward my room. I try to move as quietly and as swiftly as possible. If I could hear his footsteps long before he reached me, then my movements will echo as well.
There's only one problem: I can’t remember where my room is.
The last time I used the passage, I left the door open behind me. This time, I shut the door, and now I don't know how to find it again. I stumble along, peering through every set of spy holes I manage to spot in the darkness, but I don't know the house well enough to get my bearings from the rooms I see on the other side. At regular intervals I spot the palely painted door handles, but I'm not reckless enough to open any of them without knowing where they lead—or where Calder is.
I keep walking. Right now my priority is to get as far away from Calder as possible, but I keep my head up and my eyes on the walls, looking for the next door or set of spy holes.
I'm so focused on finding my escape route that I nearly trip down the flight of stairs that suddenly appears in front of me. I gasp and reach out for the wall, and I manage to catch myself on a railing before I fall and break my neck. My phone clatters to the ground and tumbles down several steps. The sound echoes down the length of the passageway.
I stand frozen for a long, breathless minute. Was Calder still in the passage? Did he hear that? I strain my ears, but I don't hear any approaching footsteps. Still, I have a bad feeling in my gut. I need to get out of here—and fast.
I hurry down the next few steps and crouch, fumbling around in the darkness for my phone. As soon as I find it, I take off down the stairs, moving as quickly as I can without risking another fall. The stairs go on much longer than I expect, far more than a flight, but at this point there's nowhere else to go but down.
How deep does this place go? I wonder.
It's not until the steps finally stop—and I notice the sudden coolness—that I remember Calder's earlier comments about the dungeons.
I assumed at the time he was joking, but now that I'm here, I'm not so sure. The glow from my cell phone reveals the edges of a door ahead of me. I take a deep breath and push it open.
The hallway on the other side is as dark as the passageway—far darker than most of the rooms and corridors upstairs, where the windows let in light even on rainy days like today. I edge my way along the closest wall, a hand out for support, and my fingers brush against stone.
Looks like he definitely wasn't kidding about that dungeon bit.
I don't know what I'll find down here, but there's no way I'm giving up the chance to explore a little. What do eccentric billionaires keep in their sub-basements? Vaults of jewels? Stashes of the latest designer drugs? Dead bodies of people who defied them?
My hand brushes against a door, and I fumble for the handle in the dark. It's locked. About ten steps later, I find another door, but this one's locked, too. And then another, and another—this entire basement is stone walls and locked doors. I'm screwed if Calder catches me down here. There's nowhere to hide.
My body is tense, my skin alive with nerves. The thought that Calder is somewhere above me, hunting me down, incites a feral excitement in me. If he catches me down here, what will he do?
My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I find the next door unlocked. I slowly push it open then raise my cell phone to try and light the darkness beyond.
There's nothing here. No storage boxes, no cases of jewels, no dead bodies. I wander around the room, inspecting every corner, but I'm in an empty stone cube. A small one, at that. It really does feel like a dungeon cell—all that's missing are a few chains on the walls.
I flip my cell phone closed and sit down in one of the corners, trying to catch my breath. I'm not sure why this place flusters me so much, but I'm already too far gone to fight the fluttering in my stomach. There's no point in denying that a part of me wants him to catch me, but I won't willingly lose this contest. After the time is up, however, then all bets are off.
I glance down at the time on my phone. Twenty-eight minutes left. Halfway done. I can do this.
The minutes tick by slowly, all the more because I can’t see anything around me. I can only focus on the excitement running beneath my skin. When I close my eyes, I can only imagine the things Calder has planned for me upon my capture.
I should feel bad for indulging my imagination, but I don't. I'm not ashamed of the fantasies playing in my mind, nor am I ashamed of the anticipation coursing through me. I feel alive and wild and free. I feel like this place, this mansion, is entirely removed from my old reality. My normal life and all its stress and responsibilities are far away. In here I can be reckless. In here I can be shameless and unrestrained. In here I can explore every dark, wicked corner of myself.
When I finally grow impatient and look down at my phone again, there are only seven minutes left.
I draw my knees up to my chest and rock gently. I don't want to admit it, but I'm a little disappointed Calder hasn't come for me yet. After our close encounter in the passageway upstairs, I thought I'd spend the entire game on my toes, just steps ahead of him, breathlessly out of reach.
Just when I’m about to resign myself to the letdown, I hear a sound out in the hallway.
I hold
my breath. For a moment, I hear nothing but silence. I’m beginning to think I might have imagined the noise when suddenly it comes again.
There, down the hall—is that the sound of a door closing? Has Calder stumbled down here at last?
For a solid minute I don't hear anything more, and then there's a footstep, light but distinct. Yes, there's no denying it—someone's walking down the hallway. Toward the room where I wait.
I press myself further against the wall and flip my cell phone open for one last look. Three minutes until the alarm goes off. Three minutes, and I'll have the money the Center needs to survive.
I hear the jiggle of a door handle. Not mine, no—three doors down, maybe four. This level is so quiet that I can practically hear my heart pumping.
Outside my cell, Calder moves a few more steps and tries the next door. I shouldn't have chosen the first room I found unlocked, I realize suddenly. He'll move on from the locked doors quickly, but he'll stop and search this room, and there's nowhere in here I can hide.
I'm tempted to pull out my phone and check the time again, but it's too risky. Instead I remain curled up on the floor, afraid to move, and I wait.
Calder tries the handle of the room next to mine. One jiggle, two. And then his footsteps approach my door.
I'm lightheaded. There can't be more than two minutes left. If I can escape him for just two minutes…
The handle of my cell turns, and the door opens with a click that seems to echo throughout the room. I stay perfectly still. A single breath or the tiniest shift of my foot might alert him to my presence.
He steps into the room. He moves slowly, as if he's unaware that his time is about to expire. Or maybe he does know—maybe he already knows I'm in here, and it's all part of his game.
Every nerve on my body is afire. My muscles tighten, urging me to jump, move, run—but I can't. I won't. I ignore the knots twisting in my belly, the desire growing between my legs, and I wait, frozen, for the end.
Calder's footsteps move forward, toward the far wall. He pauses only briefly when he reaches the corner adjacent to mine. He's no more than twelve feet away from me now.
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