Page 82 of Enthrall Climax
I pulled open the door. “Can you please call someone for me?”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “There’s to be no calls, Miss.”
“People will worry. You don’t want the police involved do you? It will be better for you in the long run.”
He crooked his neck. “Go back in the room.”
Several hours later, cabin fever had set in and I couldn’t stand to watch one more second of TV. I’d paced back and forth so many times I knew there were snacks in the other room, a coffeemaker that looked like you needed a PhD to use it, and enough alcohol to help the hours pass if I gave up.
I got the bright idea of convincing my prison keepers to buy me a bathing suit from one of the hotel stores so I could go for a swim. But they’d chosen the wrong size. My bathing suit pinched around my thighs a little, but I didn’t care. I’d studied the hotel brochure and read they had a bar at the pool. That meant they had a phone.
All I had to do was wait for one of them to be distracted.
The area had a welcoming vibe, with a large swimming pool and a bar tucked away in the corner. Guests were grabbing drinks and relaxing on colorful loungers positioned all around the pool. Barret sat on one of them and watched me like a hawk with no shame.
The water felt warm and refreshing. After completing three laps, I went for it—lifting myself out at the deep end and trotting over to the bar with the kind of nonchalance I hoped wouldn’t draw attention.
“What can I get you?” The spiked-haired bartender asked me.
“I need to use your phone, please?”
“Sure.” He glanced over my shoulder and I turned to see Barret making headway toward me.
I looked back at the bartender, my expression tense. “I’m in a huge hurry,” I said.
“Sure.”
He pushed the phone within reach and I grabbed the receiver, dialing quickly.
“Cole.” Cameron’s voice sent a shiver of hope through me.
I drew in a breath to speak, and a hand grabbed the receiver and slammed it down, ending the call. I turned to see Barret glaring at me with disapproval.
“I’ll order food for you,” he said, plainly for the barman’s sake.
“Hey, I can do that.” The barman smiled at us both. “You go relax. I’ll come over with the menus.”
Barret’s fingers wrapped around my arm and he led me away. Of course, I could have made a scene, screamed that I was being held against my will, but what kind of trouble would Henry be in if that came out? It would be a potential scandal and I knew Cameron would want me to remain calm.
All those times I had evaded his security, I really had been naïve. But never had I suspected the threat would come from inside the Cole family. Although Henry had suffered from PTSD, he’d never displayed any symptoms of mental illness before and I chose to believe he was merely trying to protect me.
Then I saw her…
Walking in with several other well-dressed women was Helete Merrill, the stunning French brunette whose husband had been the catalyst for both me and Cameron fleeing the States. She wasn’t dressed for lounging, though, so I had to grab my chance.
“I’m going to swim again,” I told Barret.
He held my gaze. “If you speak to anyone you’re going to be staying in that room indefinitely.” He leaned forward to make his point.
I rested my hands on my hips. “I know.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be watching.”
It was hard to hate Henry, but right now I wanted to kick him in the balls. I rounded the pool and then made a beeline toward the corner.
“Helete!”
I caught her attention, as well as the other two elegant-looking women with her. They all looked my way.
