Page 113 of Pandora's Pleasure
He caught up and walked alongside me. “I’m listening to Duran Duran while I wait for someone.”
“Who?”
“You’ve never heard of Duran Duran?”
I shook my head. “Who are you waiting for?”
“A new staffer needs briefing.” Theo raised his phone. “Duran Duran’s an 80s band.” He looked amused. “You make me feel old.”
“You’re the same age as Damien.”
“I’m older by three years. You make him feel old, too.”
The tears I’d been trying to suppress stung my eyes. “I believed him. I believed he was enjoying himself on the island. That it wasn’t just me who felt this way.”
“You love him?”
I let out a sob.That’s why it hurts.
“This is a good thing, right?” he soothed.
“He doesn’t feel the same way.”
“You guys had fun. Once this is over you’ll have your entire life ahead of you. You’ll meet someone super cool.”
I took off down the hallway, not wanting to cry in front of him.
Theo shouted. “Pandora!”
Needing to compose myself, I quickly put distance between us, heading in the opposite direction of the event. I needed time to figure things out.
There was no other way—I was going to have to find another solution to my dad’s looming scandal and stop that news story from going live. There had to be some kind of leverage I could use. I had the means, too. Access to contacts. The ability to dig deeper using tech.
I’d do it myself.
Oh, no.
Damien’s brother was talking with someone at the end of the hallway.
Pivoting fast, I turned right, lifting my hem and scurrying off. A security guard stood at a doorway gesturing I couldn’t go that way. I tried to retrace my steps but I couldn’t remember which way I’d come.
I picked up speed as I rounded a corner—and bumped right into Carter’s chest.
“Steady,” he said, grabbing my arm and leading me away. “You can’t be here. My dad’s having a drink with the Ambassador of Germany. Security’s a bitch.”
“Let go.” I was dragged behind his tall frame.
He glanced left and right as though checking to make sure no one was looking, and then he opened a door and pulled me inside an empty room, shoving me up against the wall.
Trapping me.
My breaths came short and sharp against the pressure of his firm chest as my arms pushed against him, my heart rate thundering in my ears. I tried to break free but he was too strong, too tall and too threatening.
“I heard about Sanibel.” He whistled.
“Get off.”
“No, I don’t think so. My family paid for you fair and square.”
