Page 17 of Blind Prophet

“Do you mind if I walk around until Dorian arrives? It’s been so long since I’ve wandered through the trails.” His lips squeeze into a flat line. “I’ll leave my suitcase here.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t let you do that. Mr. Moore gave specific instructions.”

“Oh?” I take in the sterile room one more time, Lewis’s stiff posture, and his hand on the doorknob. “Are you sure I can’t just…take a walk outside?”

“No, I just…this is the best space for you to wait. It’s where we rest between shifts sometimes. Upstairs, we have a break room, but there are other guys up there. Mr. Moore won’t be long.”

Unease settles in my gut. This room feels a little too much like a cell.

“You know what? I changed my mind.” I pull out my phone. “I’m going to schedule an Uber and go back into town. I’ll check in at my hotel, and then I’ll come back later when he’s here.” I force a smile and open the Uber app.

“I can’t let you do that, ma’am.”

I narrow my eyes and take a sharp breath. I flew commercial and therefore didn’t carry a gun. Not that I would normally carry a gun. But Luke’s insistence that this is a bad idea replays in my head. And what did Sophia say? A man like Dorian can do whatever he wants and get away with it.

“I’m going to need to insist,” I say. “I’ll return at a better time.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s going to be here any minute.” He checks his watch. “He gave specific instructions.”

“Do you always do what he says? Are you willing to hold someone against her will?” Halston Moore hired former Secret Service for his security, but this man is too young to have that pedigree.

“Ma’am. Please. Can I get you something to drink? He’s going to be here in fifteen minutes. It would be a shame for you to leave after you’ve come so far.”

That’s true. I need to see Dorian. If he never takes me to the main house, I’ll fail at planting surveillance and scouting the grounds, but I need Dorian to sign a divorce agreement. If he won’t sign mine, he needs to draft one for me to sign.

But still…Lewis is young. Malleable. “I will not wait in this room. I will not be treated like a prisoner.”

“Ma’am, I’m not trying to make you feel?—”

Footsteps fall along the hall outside. A man in a matching uniform comes up behind Lewis.

“Lewis, head on out to cover the gate. I’ll stay with our guest.”

“I’d like to leave.”

“Can I get you a drink? We also have crackers and protein bars if you’re hungry.”

What have I walked into?

This man is older, with silver wisps and crow’s feet. He’s stern, formidable even. This man might be former Secret Service.

Lewis obediently departs for his command post.

I scan the walls and ceiling, searching for a lens. Is there a security team on the grounds, watching us? Is that why this older man arrived?

“Ma’am, can I get you a drink?”

“I’d prefer to wait in the main house.”

“I’ll be back shortly.”

The door closes and clicks.

I go to the door and twist the knob. He locked me in.

What the hell?

I pull out my phone and debate. Call Sophia? No. This hasn’t gone exactly according to plan, but I’m not in danger—I don’t think. I have cell signal and a tracker in my suitcase. They left my suitcase with me and didn’t ask for my phone.

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