by A. C. Arthur
Still, she’d been amused as they approached the door to Bas’s suite and she wondered how they would get in. Standing close and watching his every move, she asked, “Don’t tell me you don’t have a key,” she quipped.
Paolo turned to her then, giving her a breathtaking smile that might have stopped the heart of another woman, but paled in comparison to Bas’s reserved allure. “I have a temporary code,” was his reply.
Priya nodded as he turned his attention back to the control panel, watching every button he pushed, filing the information away for later use.
Now, here she was once again in the room that had secret doors and computers with basically no information on them. Light switches she couldn’t find, windows that had no latches, automatic mini-blinds that worked on anyone else’s command but hers. And just because she was already thinking that things couldn’t get any worse, her cell phone chirped.
A few seconds later Priya was mumbling something to herself, dropping her head into her hands, and sighing. Lolo couldn’t trace the e-mails, not even the one she’d received just yesterday. So she still had no idea who was blackmailing her. Two weeks ago they’d sent her a picture of Malik. He’d looked okay, disgruntled and probably angry as hell at being held captive. But she had no idea where he was.
Coming here was supposed to help him. It was supposed to lead her to the answers they wanted. Instead, courtesy of the reputed playboy, she’d been sucked into his spell, letting him touch her and take her to higher heights than she’d ever reached before. She’d thought it would help break down his barriers, but she didn’t know any more now than she’d known before. Obviously she wasn’t good at the sex-in-exchange-for-information work ethic, either.
In twenty-two days her brother would be killed and her mother would be devastated. Priya would be a failure both on the professional and the familial fronts. And then what?
“Dammit!” she cursed, replying to Lolo’s text with quick keystrokes.
Pausing, she reached farther into her purse and pulled out that business card. She was texting him the e-mail address and telephone number of Agent Dorian Wilson. She wanted him to send the e-mail message to the FBI. If she couldn’t save Malik, maybe the Feds could.
With that done, Priya also admitted that it was time for her to leave Perryville. Bas wasn’t going to give her any information she needed, no matter his “trust me, I can help you” routine. It was all a part of his seduction. It was that reputed seduction that had garnered him so many women and his infamous reputation. Besides that, he would never betray Roman Reynolds, the same way none of his employees here would ever betray him. She found her other bag and pulled out some clean clothes. The first thing she needed to do, desperately because this scent that hovered over her was driving her mad with rage, was take a hot shower to rinse his traitorous touch from her skin. Then, she was getting the hell out of this room; if she had to break through a window to get someone’s attention, she was leaving Perryville Resorts tonight!
* * *
It was quiet in his room when Bas returned, blissfully so. During the entire ride up the five floors to his penthouse suite his mind had buzzed with words like human, rogue, breasts, guns, blood, sweet, wet, drugs, until he was sure his fist would connect with the wall at any moment. Squeezing the bridge of his nose as he stepped off the elevator, Bas reached for focus once more, for balance. Two things that had been hard as hell to come by in the years since he’d returned from the Gungi.
Memories of that night had assailed him on a regular basis, and then, each time he opened or closed his eyes he’d see hers—blue eyes, light and helpless, and soulless because of him. On the heels of his parents’ divorce, not being able to save Mariah had been devastating to Bas. It had also been the catalyst to his rebirth, or should he say the emergence of the man he was today. The fearless and shrewd businessman who never took no for an answer and never did anything half-assed. On a good day he was flawless, on a bad one, he was still better than the vast majority of ass-kissing backstabbers in the business. As far as the Assembly went, he was a hell of a fighter and a leader, as recognized by his appointment to Faction Leader. He was also a loyal friend to Rome and had pledged his allegiance to him eternally.
Or until the moment the leader asked him to kill Priya.
Then, they were definitely going to have problems.
As he walked into the suite he couldn’t come up with the words to explain why he felt so protective of her, or why he wanted so desperately to harbor the one person on this earth at the moment that could do the most harm to his people. She could destroy them all with one story, one revelation, and then where would they be? The staunchest and fiercest rule of the Ètica was their autonomy, because it not only prevented the shifters from having to go into a defensive mode among the human world but it also protected the humans from the unknown that would surely be the death of them. With that said, was it fair not to give them the heads-up that there was another race living amongst them, a very deadly-if-provoked race at that? Priya had posed that question to him last night and Bas had been haunted by her words ever since.
You don’t think we have a right to know if something else is out there? If we need to protect ourselves?
Everyone had a right to protect themselves, Bas thought. He just never really considered the fact that the humans would need to protect themselves from the shadows because a huge part of Rome’s platform as leader was for their kind to live peacefully amongst the humans. Which, Bas had to figure, would make it slightly harder for Rome to immediately order Priya’s death. They would be knowingly killing a human. Even if that act would save their tribe. His temples throbbed as he sympathized with each party in this argument. Unfortunately, his birthright dictated he reside confidently on one side over the other.
When he arrived in his suite he realized Priya was in the tub. And for Bas, at that very moment, nothing else seemed to matter. He moved through his private living space based on memory alone as he wasn’t actually seeing anything that was there, just moving until he stopped at the bathroom door. It was open because he was sure she didn’t know how to close it. Everything in his rooms operated on a remote that responded only to his touch. Jace and Cole had thought the innovative technology was over the top and vain, just as they often described him, but Bas had implemented it for the security and privacy benefits. Maybe he’d had the forethought that there would come a time when someone would be in his personal space looking for any damning information they could find on him.
When he’d had the bathroom designed Bas had thought going with the stained concrete floors and floating cabinets was a great idea. The marble sink and countertops had been one of his favorite aspects of the room. But tonight, none of those amenities fazed him. Seeing her just a few feet away sitting in the spacious, oversized spa bathtub that adorned each of the suites in Perryville, surrounded by big fluffy bubbles was the absolute highlight of this space. Folding his arms over his chest, Bas leaned against the counter, settling in to watch her until … well, until that became too much torture to bear.
She seemed not to notice his arrival as she lifted a mocha-toned leg into the air, using a loofa sponge to pour water over that limb. Bas swallowed deeply. When she did the same with the next leg, he lifted a hand to rub a finger along the line of his jaw. Next came her arms, one first, then the other, water cascading down over her shoulders and neck in lovely rivulets that made Bas more than a little envious. Her head tilted back as she held that sponge above her neck and squeezed so that a splash of water drizzled down the long, enticing curve of skin.
His dick was rock hard, pressing painfully against the zipper of his pants. At his sides his fingers, sans the claws that had been there only about thirty minutes ago as he’d stood in his office, clenched and unclenched with the desperate need to touch her. The scented bubbly water did nothing to ease the intensity of her personal aroma and on each inhale desire filtrated throughout his body.
She knew he was there, knew h
e was watching. That knowledge came quick, like a slap, to be followed up by a smirk.
“Look all you want,” she spoke finally. “But your touching privileges are revoked. Permanently,” she continued with a stony look over her shoulder.
“Get dressed,” was all he said to her. “I ordered dinner to be brought to the room.”
She stopped bathing and stared at him incredulously. “I’m not staying.”
Another slap to his face. Bas was not having a good night and when he didn’t have a good night, his cat didn’t have a good night and that could lead to all types of chaos. So he gritted his teeth and looked at her—at her dark brown eyes and firmly set lips. He did not look to the remnants of soap and bubbles running down her shoulders and her chest, creating a path between the plump globes of her breasts.
“We’re having dinner and we’ll talk about you staying.” That was the best he could do. Especially since what he really wanted to do was grab her from that tub and slip his dick deep into her pussy, which he knew was still hot and waiting for him.
This was not working for him. Being this close and not touching her, not tasting her was harder than not breathing. So instead of continuing what he thought was a pointless conversation with her, he turned and walked out of the bathroom. All the while he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t stood up to confront him. All his blessed control and focus would have surely been lost at that point.
* * *
Priya smiled at his retreating back. He’d been watching her. She’d heard the moment he stepped into the bathroom and thought she couldn’t have planned that little performance any better. Once she knew she had an audience—a very captive one at that—she’d given him a little show. He deserved to be teased after he’d done that and then some in the spa.
Unfortunately, he’d bailed before the grand finale, but that was fine, her leaving Perryville could have the same effect. If she thought for one crazy moment that she meant anything more to Sebastian Perry than the nuisance reporter that wanted to know his secrets, she was in for a rude awakening. Luckily for her she didn’t think that, it was crazy to assume, to even consider that a man like Bas would want …
He didn’t want anything from her and neither did she from him. That’s what she told herself while toweling off and reaching for the simple paisley-print sundress that she slipped over her head and shimmied past her hips. It wasn’t Vera Wang but it was cute and it hugged her in all the right places. If she were trying to catch the infamous Mr. Perry, she could give some of those fancy-schooled and even fancier-dressed women a run for their money, easily.
“Good thing I’m not trying,” she quipped then looked into the mirror, fluffing the top of her hair. The sides were beginning to grow out so she switched on the water to wet the tips of her fingers then patted it down. After a resolute sigh she reminded herself that this was all pointless; she wasn’t here to seduce Bas, and she definitely wasn’t going to stick around long enough for him to finish seducing her. With that thought in mind she headed out of the bathroom.
Right into an empty bedroom.
And an empty living room.
Where the hell had he gone?
She was just about to head back into the bedroom when a whooshing sound signaled one of the floor-to-ceiling windows sliding open. This entire space was full of gadgets, secret doors, lights illuminating on some silent command. It all made her think of a man with too much money to spend and too much time on his hands. Or an obsessively irritating version of both.
“What do you have against doorknobs and well, real doors?” she asked because the whole Bruce Wayne vibe she was getting from his resort to his private living quarters was beginning to rub her the wrong way.
He wore dark gray slacks and leather shoes, the shirt a pullover this time, yet it still lay over his broad shoulders and muscled biceps as if the designer knew Bas was going to be the one wearing it.
“I’ve set dinner up outside. It’s a nice night and I thought you’d like to enjoy it,” he told her.
“That would sound nice if I planned to stay for dinner. But I’m not. I’m leaving,” Priya replied, rubbing her hands together as she moved toward where he stood.
He sighed as if he were tired even though his body didn’t give way to any of the usual exhaustion symptoms—slumped shoulders, weary eyes, slight frown. No, he still looked perfect, damn him. “Can we just have dinner first? If you still want to leave after that, we’ll work something out.”
This was new, she thought. It wasn’t an order, but a request, and it was sincere and almost humble. He’d never spoken to her that way, never looked to her the way he was right now. “Why?” she asked.
He rubbed a hand over his light mustache, down around his chin. “I’d like to have dinner with you, Priya. Would you please join me?”
Damn, she should have had her cell on record or she should have had her tape recorder out to memorialize this moment. She was sure none of those other females had ever been asked to dinner like this by him, or at least telling herself that made her a little giddy.
“My flight leaves at ten thirty,” was her lame response.
He nodded and came to stand directly in front of her. “We’ve got time,” he said.
Priya swallowed, loving the scent that always seemed to surround him. It was musky, and earthy and fresh and just damned arousing.
“And for the record…” He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “There are plenty of doors in this room, you just have to know where to look to find them.”
“Yes,” she said on an exhale of breath that she’d held since the second he came close to her. “And that’s normal, right?” she asked, just before stepping out into the night air.
She wouldn’t go so far as to say it was cool, but the air wasn’t as stiff as it had been when she was out with him earlier. This part of the balcony she’d seen through the window, the same redbrick tile that was on the deck at the spa. A clay-colored wall with a white iron bar atop for support and safety, she figured. What she didn’t see was the table and the dinner he’d mentioned.
“Do we play hide-and-seek for the dinner table as well?”
With a smile that practically glided through the air and smacked her in the face, sending spikes of heat straight to her core, he replied, “This way.”
Priya let him take her by the arm. She followed him as they rounded the side of a wall and walked up three steps. Then she was shocked into silence, which for her was just like keeping still, not something she was very good at. There was a pool—it was the first thing she noticed—a big pool, longer and wider than the one at the spa and it glowed. Yes, the water was a brilliant turquoise that illuminated the entire deck, including the table covered in a black tablecloth with two long, slim candles and flowers in its center. The flowers were also blue, several different shades of the color that seemed to radiate against the crystal glasses and the silver trim of the china plates. She couldn’t help it, she gasped.
“I took the liberty of selecting our meal,” Bas began, talking as he escorted her to the table. His tone was sort of like, “I know you’re amazed at this gorgeous display I’ve laid out for you, but please, don’t drool.”
In the alternative, Priya took a deep breath, released it on a slow exhale, and promised herself she wouldn’t do something so belittling. But she did sneak another gaze at the pool before taking the seat Bas offered, wondering if she’d have the opportunity for a swim before leaving this resort.
“Grilled pork chops, buttered asparagus tips, and garlic mashed potatoes. It wasn’t Mrs. Ramirez’s first choice, but I told her you were a pretty special guest.”
He sat across from her, lifting his napkin and settling it in his lap. Priya had already done the same and when he looked up at her she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m special, huh?”
“Yes, because I’ve never fed a woman on my patio before.”
“Where do you normally feed them?” she asked for a lack of anything better
to say because his “special” remark had caught her off guard.
He paused for a moment before replying, “I usually take my dates to restaurants.”
Priya simply nodded, regaining a little of her composure. “Well, I’m not a date,” she told him matter-of-factly. “And this is not some romantic night. I came here for a story and you refused to give it to me. Case closed.”
“I said I would help you and I will,” he added in agreement, uncovering the dishes of food and reaching for her plate, ignoring her references to them not being on a date.
“You’ll tell me what I want to know about Reynolds?” she asked hopefully. “I’ll write a good solid story, I’ll make sure I tell his side completely. I just need you to tell me everything.”
He stopped fixing their plates then and looked up at her. “I need you to tell me everything,” he said quietly. “Who is Malik and why is someone threatening to kill him?”
Priya had just picked up her fork, was about to touch it to her plate so she could eat, but she paused. That was an understatement, she just about froze. “What did you say?”
“I asked you who Malik was and why has the threat of his death made you risk your life for a story?”
“How do you know that?” she asked, her heartbeat racing. “How the hell do you know that?” She slammed the fork down then, her fingers shaking.
He looked as if he might not tell her the truth, like he might try to lie, but then he didn’t.
“I saw the e-mails. I know they’re threatening to kill Malik if you don’t deliver this story.”
Priya shook her head. “No,” she whispered, her throat suddenly feeling clogged. “No. I’m a reporter, I’m just following a story. A story this big could jump-start my career. It could make national headlines. That’s always been my goal,” she told him, swallowing every few words, trying to keep her composure, trying to keep from crying.