by S. M. Soto
What sticks out to me the most are the blind spots. There are plenty of them on the footage. It gives me enough wiggle room to slip up there unseen.
Dan and the security guards are nowhere to be found, which is good. This is all good news. If there was ever a time for me to sneak into Baz’s office, it would need to be in the middle of the night. Like now.
It’ll be risky, especially since Baz is on the property. It wouldn’t take much for him to walk in on me, which is exactly why I need to learn his habits. Learn his schedule.
When does he leave the resort?
How long is he usually gone?
The sound of loud, boisterous laughter outside the door has me freezing. My heart lodges in my throat, and my stomach ties itself in knots. The sound slowly starts to fade, and I blow out a sharp breath. I twist the knob, moving the screen images to different sections again, anywhere but on the penthouse, before I rise from the chair and crack the door. I poke my head out ever so slightly, looking for anyone who may be walking by, but luckily, I don’t see anyone.
After I quickly slip out, I turn to shut the door quietly, the key and my phone safely in my pocket. When it clicks shut, I let the knob go and take slow steps back, staring at the looming door.
I did it. Step one, complete.
I actually did it.
“What are you doing?”
My heart skids to an abrupt halt at the voice. My breath catches, and I slam my eyes shut as my brain whirls with all the possible questions he’ll ask and what answers I can give. What am I doing? Outside the security room door and in the middle of the night no less?
There’s no logical explanation. I know this.
Slowly, I turn, glancing up at Baz through my lashes. He doesn’t look all that surprised to see me. He doesn’t really look angry either. It’s that same complacent, void expression on his face. I can feel him sizing me up and more than likely questioning my motives. He tilts his head to the side, just a tiny bit, and I can practically see the wheels churning in his brain.
“Oh, hey.” My voice trembles with nerves, and he detects it. I can tell by the way his jaw clenches. If I’d blinked a second earlier, I would’ve missed it.
“What are you doing?” This time when he asks, I hear the edge in his tone. He’s pissed. If I say anything remotely wrong, my entire plan will go to shit.
“Oh.” I glance back at the security door and force a laugh. I rub the back of my neck sheepishly and dart my gaze down at the floor, looking at my feet, anything to avoid his gaze as the lies tumble from my lips. “Funny story, actually. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep at night, and when I can’t seem to write, I walk. Sometimes jog. I don’t really know the area, so I decided walking around the resort would help clear my mind. If not that, at least it would help me sleep.”
That angered expression on his face darkens his features. Baz takes a step toward me, and on instinct, I step back. We do this until my back softly bumps against the door of the security room, and as I glance over his shoulder, I can’t help but wonder where the hell the other security guard is for his shift.
I’ve never truly feared Sebastian. Maybe I’m naïve, or maybe I’m idiotic, but I don’t want to believe he’s dangerous or had the capacity to hurt my sister. But right now? With the anger emanating off him, I believe it. Baz truly is ruthless. He’s a man to be feared. And likely for good reason.
Baz leans in, effectively caging me in with his arms on either side of my head. I swallow thickly, my chest heaving wildly as it works to accommodate my heavy breathing.
“So what you’re telling me is,” he breathes, dropping his gaze to align with mine, “you couldn’t sleep, and instead of reaching out to me, you walked blindly through my resort?”
“I—” My mouth opens and closes like that of a gaping fish. Because there’s no logical explanation. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“And when have I ever given you the impression that you bother me?”
He pushes away from the wall and me, and I’m sure this is the part where he’s going to tell me to get the hell off his property, but surprisingly, he stands back, staring down at me, before he jerks his chin over his shoulder.
“Come on. Unless you’re suddenly ready to go back to your own suite?”
He raises a brow in challenge, and the butterflies take flight in my belly. I take his offered hand and follow him back toward the penthouse floor.
Well, that was easy. Almost too easy.
The penthouse suite is much like it was the last time I was here, only now, there’s this weird tension in the air. I know why it’s there. He knows why it’s there.
He knows I was lying.
He doesn’t trust me.
And rightfully so. I’ve given him no reason to, not with my shitty, half-assed explanation.
He starts pouring me a glass of wine, and I follow him silently as he leads us out onto the balcony with his pool. The fireplace that lines the edge of the property is on, and if things had gone differently tonight, I’d describe it as cozy out here. I’d probably bask in being near him. But now, I’m worried. Worried that I’ve fucked it all up.
I knew it was too easy.
Leaning back on one of the loungers, I take the offered glass. My first gulp is a healthy swig that drains the majority of the glass. I twist the stem anxiously in my fingers, chewing on my bottom lip in contemplation.
“I lied,” I blurt out.
“I know.” His response has me spinning toward him wide-eyed. He doesn’t seem angry. He has a tumbler filled with amber liquid, and he’s looking out at the view or maybe the fire. It could be either one.
“But not for the reasons you think.”
His face tightens, creating deep frown lines. “Enlighten me then.”
I slam my eyes shut, hating myself for what I’m about to do, but at this point, there’s truly no other way.
I take another swig and clear my throat. “Two years ago, I met a guy. One who changed my life. At first, it was in the best of ways. He was … funny, charming, and extremely handsome. He was out of my league. I knew it at the time, and I think that was where I went wrong. I tried to hold on to him. I tried to morph myself into who he wanted me to be. When I first met him, I thought he was perfect for me, but I was wrong. He ruined me. Ruined every part of me.”
I can feel his gaze on me, and I know I’ve got his attention. With each lie that slips from my lips, I feel more and more disgusted with myself. This was always the plan. To lie to get what I want. To lie to learn and glean the information I needed. But why now, when I’m lying to Baz, does it feel so incredibly wrong?
If that was what it took to get the answers I needed, I’d do that—that was my motto before, but now? Now, I’m so confused.
“Somewhere along the line, there was a change in our relationship. He wasn’t charismatic anymore but angry. He was no longer charming; instead, he was harsh and cold. His looks never faltered, but I slowly started to see who he really was. He was ugly on the inside. He was abusive. He abused me during our entire relationship, and I didn’t see it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Baz’s grip tighten on the tumbler as he brings it to his lips. He’s silent for a beat and so am I. I haven’t made the point I need to yet, but I needed something believable; a backstory few people will question.
“A year ago, I finally had the courage to leave him, but he hasn’t made it easy. His threats haven’t made it easy. I can feel him watching me even when I know I shouldn’t. Sometimes, I think it’s my paranoia, but other times, I don’t think it is. I coerced one of your employees to give me access to the security room on the lower level. I needed to … I wanted to feel safe. He assured me I was safe here, but I wanted the affirmation, and seeing it, seeing how well secured the resort is, put my mind at ease a bit.”
I stop there, not wanting to overdo it. That’s the only logical explanation I could think of. And if he doesn’t believe it, then I’m well and truly fucked.
/> Baz drains the rest of his glass, and I do the same as the silence hangs thick and heavy in the night air. Finally, I summon the courage to face him, and when I do, I can’t even mask my shock when I find he’s already watching me. He searches my face earnestly. The flames flicker across his sharp features, making him look even more severe than he usually does.
“He ever hit you?” Baz asks, his jaw taut with anger again. As if the thought of anyone’s hands on me, let alone in a violent manner, has him seething with rage.
I scoff into the night air, staring out at the glass fire pit. Like images on a pinwheel, everything from the past grips me. The way Marcus choked me. I imagine the way they hurt my sister, and I feel as though I’m suffocating.
“He almost killed me,” I rasp. “So yeah.” I place the glass on the table between us with a thud. “He hit me. He knew all the right places to make it hurt.”
“The name Scarlett … is that because of him, too?”
I nod, caught off guard by the connection made. “Sort of. Using my real name would make it easier for him to find me, but I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted to be a different me. Now you know why.”
Baz watches me for several beats, and I let him. I let him look for whatever he needs to find in my expression. Eventually, he nods.
“Okay.”
My brows dip. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I can’t fault you for your past. I can fault my staff for being so lenient, though.”
My eyes widen, and I grip his forearm frantically. “No! You can’t do anything, please. He begged me not to ruin his job for him, and he was only trying to help me. He made me give the fob right back to him. So please, don’t fault him. He was only trying to help.” I lie.
Baz nods and gets to his feet. He sets his glass next to mine and reaches his hand out to me. Slowly, I take it, placing my palm in his with a questioning expression on my face.
“Come on. I want to show you something.” Behind his eyes, I can feel the command of his stare. He holds himself with such utter confidence that I have no choice but to oblige. My eyes chase the broad muscles in his neck that disappear under his sweater, making him look far too handsome for words.
My heart thrashes wildly as he leads us out of the penthouse and down the hall toward his office. Using his fob, he opens the door, and my eyes widen as I take in the ginormous space. It’s the Holy Grail. Everything I need access to. I take it all in. Slowly. Meticulously.
Everything is masculine. Dark wood. Clean spaces. Sleek and formidable, just like the man before me.
Off to the side are cabinets, which I assume hold the files he uses here for work. On the desk, there’s a manly lamp—if there was ever such a thing—some stacks of paperwork, and a laptop. I’m still standing over the threshold, taking everything in, when out of the corner of my eye, I see him settle in the chair, waking the screen. Keys click and the glare of the screen lights up his face.
He glances up, catching me watching him, while simultaneously trying to take it all in. His demeanor demands respect or, more likely, my capitulation. With the subtlest of nods, he beckons me over, and I close the distance without needing to hear the words. He pats his thighs, and my gaze shoots up to his, but I still lower myself onto his lap. On the screen are small squares, and my eyes widen as I take it all in. Apparently, he has his own security access, which makes sense, but I don’t understand why he’s showing me.
My thoughts run awry as I run over all the possibilities in my head. Maybe he’s showing me something.
“If you tell me who I’m looking for, I can make sure he never steps foot on the property.”
I jerk on his lap, my gaze swinging to his. Shock colors my facial expression.
“You’d do that?”
He leans back against his chair, watching me. “Anyone who could lay a hand on you like that shouldn’t even be walking the streets, but that’s an issue for another day. Just say the word and I’ll keep him far away.”
Even though all of it is fake, I feel oddly content that he’d do that for me. There’s that fluttering sensation in my belly again. Something light billows in my chest—like glitter. That’s the only way to describe the sensation. It feels like a bottle of glitter has just burst in my chest. I get some odd form of satisfaction just knowing he cares.
I don’t even care what kind of sick psycho that makes me—that I’d bask in his protectiveness of me when I’m running from an invisible man and an invisible relationship.
The realization only makes me hate myself for lying. Because what if Baz is innocent? That would mean I’m lying and wiggling my way into his life just to convict his friends and possibly bring him and the businesses he’s worked so hard for down with them. It would make what we share unreal. It would taint it. And even though I’ve been denying it, I do feel something for Baz, and it’s not just because of his good looks. It’s truly because I feel connected to him in a way I’ve never felt before. There’s this static electricity between us; a magnetic force I can’t seem to shake.
If he ever finds out the truth—if he ever finds out who I really am—that would all be ruined. He’d hate me and for good reason.
Fear snakes its way up my body as I stare at him, and it’s not fear for my life. It’s fear for my heart and mind. Instead of using words because, at the moment, I truly feel incapable, I lean in and kiss him. Pressing my lips against his, I close my eyes and fall into his touch, reveling in everything that is Baz King.
Falling for Baz is a deadly form of self-destruction—if there ever was one. I’m becoming a prisoner to my heart and my emotions. It’s nonsensical, not to mention idiotic.
He has the capacity to end me. To ruin me.
But I won’t let that happen. I can’t.
Because if I did? I’d pay for it with my life. That I’m sure of.
With the floppy straw hat shielding her face from the sun and the oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, I shouldn’t be able to spot her as quickly as I have. My eyes trail across her exposed flesh, the warm sunrays bronzing her skin as she sunbathes on the lounger at one of the pools here at the resort.
Earlier, I told Mackenzie I had work to do today, which I did, but I wrapped up early, and now, I have business to handle elsewhere. I need to fly out to San Francisco this evening and meet with a new contracting company for another chain of Kings Resorts. I usually fly out on the jet by myself, but just as I’ve been doing the past few days, I’ve found myself wanting to be near Mackenzie more than any other woman I’ve previously spent time with.
It shouldn’t exactly be a shock. She intrigues me. From the moment I met her, I knew she was different, and with each moment we spend together, it only proves just how deep she’s embedded herself into my world. I don’t normally dwell or worry about women, but with Mackenzie, I find myself doing both. She’s an enigma. She’s fine china I want to wrap in my arms and hold close to my chest out of fear she’ll crash to the ground and shatter. Because when I look deep in her eyes, practically scouring every crevice of her soul, I can see the hairline cracks in her armor.
I’m a bastard—I won’t deny that—because a very large part of me wants to break down Mackenzie’s exterior and watch her fall apart, if only she’ll allow me to put her back together. My feelings for her are contradicting. I want to protect her, but the old part of me, the Baz who has been around for so long, doesn’t understand the new Baz’s need to protect. He doesn’t understand the infatuation with one woman, not when he has the cream of the crop at his fingertips. But that’s just the thing. I don’t want any other woman. I want this one. I want to own the one with the hard exterior, the one who plays a tough game but is really a pile of mush inside, and the one with hair so dark and eyes so mysterious, you’re left wondering who really lives inside the beautiful shell of the woman.
Mackenzie is so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice my approach, not even when my shadow blocks her view of the sun. Goosebumps rise on her bared flesh from the lack of dir
ect heat. She peeks an eye open beneath her tinted shades, and like gasoline on a fire, a smile slowly spreads across her face.
“I could get used to this.”
A chuckle bubbles up my chest, spilling past my lips at the comment. Still blocking the sun from view, I can see the way her eyes take stock of me. I’m dressed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and her gaze lingers on my forearms before moving to my slacks and, once again, pausing on my thighs. At her obvious perusal of me, I do the same, taking in her flat stomach and luscious curves. She truly is a work of fucking art.
“Oh, I can, too.” I smirk, trailing my heated gaze across her exposed flesh in the red two-piece bikini. “What are your plans for the rest of the weekend? You look awfully busy.”
She purses her lips, fighting back a grin. “So busy,” she drawls. “The busiest I’ve ever been.” My mouth twists wryly. “Buuut, I might be able to make an exception. What did you have in mind?”
“I have to fly out to San Francisco for a meeting. How would you feel about accompanying me?”
When her eyes grow round, I find her reaction comical. “Can you even get us a flight that quickly?”
I must seem amused by her lack of comprehension because her brows dip into a frown. Stepping closer, I drop to my haunches in front of the lounger and trail the tip of my finger across her left collarbone to toy with the thin strap of her top.
“Don’t need to, baby. That’s what my jet is for.”
Slowly, she rests her glasses at the top of her head, giving me an unobstructed view of her gorgeous eyes. Her throat works a quick swallow.
“When would we leave?”
“Preferably in a few hours, but only if your schedule can handle it.”
This time, she rolls her eyes, but even in doing so, I still spot the excitement in them. It’s impossible to miss.