Page 67 of High Sea Seduction

“You don’t understand, Keely,” he whispers, his voice darker and more ominous than before.

I turn and glare, wishing I could hate him as hard as I ought to, but one look in his eyes and I’m done for. Even now, after he’s sent me back to that cave of rejects I thought I’d finally emerged from, I can’t walk away. Especially not when I spot the dark suffering in his eyes that triggers a well of sympathy in me.

“What’s going on?” I ask softly.

He glances at the guests swirling around us and shakes his head. “Not here.”

When Leo Brummer slides his fingers through mine and walks me through an archway to a smaller, quieter room, I’m ready to forgive him anything.

On the way, I spot a few girls glancing my way with naked envy in their eyes, and I barely stop myself from openly gloating. The evening may have started bumpy, but it’s just taken a turn for the awesome.

We skirt a dimly lit dancefloor to a seat—a love seat, no less—and Leo hands me a drink. I glance at it warily, and he smiles. “Don’t worry, it’s mineral water. See.” He shows me the sticker underneath. “Aqua stands for water.”

I return his smile and take the drink. I down half of it—making sure not to let go of Leo’s hand—before I put it down.

He’s still wearing that broken, slightly desperate expression, and I squeeze his hand. “For someone throwing the party your friends have been talking about for weeks, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

His mouth turns down and he shrugs. “These fucks are not my friends. I don’t know half of the people here. But they could be, if I wanted them to be. I can have everybody in the whole fucking world be my friend if I want them to be.” He doesn’t sound happy about that observation. In fact, he sounds downright jaded. I can’t imagine someone as rich and famous and drop-dead gorgeous as him being jaded about anything. He’s the type of guy whocanhave the world at his feet if he chooses.

I look around the room and frown. “Then why are they here?”

“This is Hollywood. I don’t need to have friends to throw a party.”

“That makes no sense to me.”

He stares at me with a mixture of sadness and resignation. “You’re sweet, Keely. So fucking sweet.”

I don’t do my ecstatic ferret-on-hot-coals dance because he says that like it pains him to say it. I feel like I need to besmirch that observation, so he’s not so pained. “I’m not that sweet. Not all the time anyway.”

One corner of his sexy mouth lifts in a pseudo-smile. “Oh yeah? Tell me something bad and dirty you’ve done.”

I search frantically for something clever. “Well, there was this one time when I slashed?—”

“Color Code Caramel. You’re up.”

“Shit!” I slap my hand over the earpiece and rip it out before the loud voice shatters my eardrums. “What the hell was that?”

Leo slowly rises to his feet, takes out his earpiece too. He pockets it and tugs me to my feet. “It means it’s time to head to the east wing.”

The image of the TV bimbo walking to her doom flares in my brain again. But this is Leo Brummer. The man of my dirty, dirty dreams.

What’s the worst that can happen?

I follow him through another underground archway and down an even longer corridor. It occurs to me that I could get lost in this underground mansion and no one would find me for years.

The stupid thought sends a shiver down my spine, but I concentrate on Leo’s warm hand clutching mine.

We reach a set of double doors and he keys in a long code I have no hope of remembering. He reaches for the door, but then pauses. He glances at me and his mouth opens as if he’s about to say something. He shakes his head and pushes the door open.

The first thing I hear is a scream.

The first thing I see is a naked girl, tied up with white rope on a chair under the harsh spotlight in the middle of the room.

The first thing I smell is the cold, acrid stench of my own fear, right before the bimbo reaches through the TV and slaps me hard across the face.

20

MASON

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