Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (44 page)

I phone down with my request and they agree to send someone up to collect it immediately. When the knock sounds a few minutes later I go prepared with suit in hand.

“Housekeeping, madam.”

“Fast service. Thank you. Could I get the gentleman’s suit carefully pressed and returned within the hour?”

“Of course.” It’s removed.

As I have sufficient time, I start to run a leisurely bath when the door is tapped on again. I turn off the water and open up to a man in a dark suit carrying a bucket of Champagne and two glasses.

“Compliments of the house, Miss Caid.”

I’m stunned. It’s totally unexpected but then I don’t stay in exclusive London hotel suites every day of the week. Or ever.

“Put it on the table over there.” I stand back to allow entry. Jack and I can share it later to celebrate his birthday and my revelation in one go. Hoping he responds the way I want him to, I’m all anxiety again. And if he rejects my declaration of love? I can’t think about that or I won’t be able to go through with it.

“I’m instructed to open it, Miss Caid. In celebration of your stay at Claridge’s.”

“Oh. I’d rather wait for my partner, if that’s okay.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “This is a suite. I’ll send up another bottle.” He removes the foil as he speaks.

It seems a little strange he would ignore a guest’s preference. The hotel can’t force someone to drink their Champagne. He glances over and I realise I’m wearing a puzzled expression.

He smiles. “You wouldn’t want me to fail in my duty, would you?”

“No. But –”

He whispers conspiratorially. “Just one glass won’t hurt, will it, Miss Caid? It’s included in the price and I’m supposed to make sure special guests get exactly what they deserve.”

“I suppose I could have one glass.” I don’t want to be drunk but one might relax me and perhaps Jack would like one too when he arrives and finds out what’s been going on. “That’s fine.”

The man has already poured a glass which he hands to me. He stands back with his arms clasped behind his back to watch me take a sip.

“Is it acceptable, Miss?”

“Yes. It’s lovely.” I sip again, wondering why he’s not leaving. Then I realise he’s waiting for a tip. “One moment.” I place the glass on the table and head towards the bedroom to get my purse.

As I turn he’s right behind me. Inside the bedroom. Holding onto my glass. Nothing about this is normal. He’s standing between me and the door.

“I’d like you to leave now.” I scrabble for a bank note and hold it out to him. He takes it, exchanging it for the Champagne. Well, if it will get him to leave. I take the glass as he stuffs the note in his pocket.

Even the manner in which he does that strikes me as abnormal. It’s unsubtle and so not the way a member of staff in a place like this accepts a generous tip.

“Drink the Champagne,” he says. His tone is noticeably less friendly.

I look at the glass in my hand and back at him again. Why the hell should he care if I drink the Champagne or not? A spike of adrenaline floods my body and my heart starts racing. This is all wrong. I try to remain calm by starting breathing techniques. The last thing I need is a panic attack.

“I’ll drink it, just as soon as you leave.”

He makes no move.

“Get out.”

“I think we both know I’m not going anywhere. Now drink the bloody Champagne.”

I move to fling it. He’s fast. Too fast. He grabs my hand with the glass still in it, dragging me against him. I’m off balance and struggling.

“You couldn’t just drink the fucking Champagne, could you?” He’s angry and struggles with me.

“Let me go. What the hell… are you… doing?” It’s hard to keep breathing as we scuffle for control.

I don’t stand a chance. He’s much bigger and stronger than I am and doesn’t even notice that I’m practically suffocating. He forces the glass to my lips and pours the remainder down my throat, flinging the empty glass onto a chair but keeping my chin tilted up until I swallow it or choke. I cough and gag but he’s already got it down me.

He pushes me onto the bed as I fight for breath. I’m scared. He’s no member of staff. What the hell does he want with me?

He’s standing close but I lurch for the house phone. I can’t seem to co-ordinate properly. He rips it out of my fingers and pushes me back onto the bed.

“Relax. Stop fighting it.”

Tears well in my eyes and all sorts of horrible possibilities flood through my head but I’m dizzy from lack of breath. I try to remain quiet and think. He hasn’t made another move towards me but when he does, I’m not going to have a hope in hell if I can’t even breathe. I try my best to stem the growing terror mid-flow.

Jack is coming. All his friends will be here soon. Amanda and Advance know where I am. Somebody will save me. I want Jack to come. I want Jack.

But I’m losing the battle. My head whirls. The room spins. I feel my muscles soften and go limp. The Champagne. He’s put something in the Champagne. That’s why he’s waiting. For me to black out before he hurts me.

I fix my swirling vision on his face. I want to recognise this bastard ready for the Police line-up. The court case. His features are already fuzzy. Nothing is clear. I sink down onto the bed unable to hold my head up any longer no matter how much I try. It’s as if I’m asleep with my eyes open. I can see, but only vaguely, like a mist is eddying round everything. I can hear him, but his voice seems further away.

“Tabitha? Tabitha?” He slaps my cheek but I don’t even blink. My hand lifts and drops again, flopping like a dead fish. He lifts my chin up to meet his gaze and peers closely into my eyes.

He knows my name. How does he know my name? Oh God, he knows my name. Why is he doing this to me? I try to speak but my tongue won’t work. It feels like a fat slug in my mouth. My only scream is the silent one shattering against the inside of my skull.

I’m helpless. Can’t move. Can’t speak. But I’m not unconscious because I see him, I hear him moving around me. Fear twists my gut. I’m going to know everything he does to me but I’m not going to be able to stop him. He drags my legs fully up onto the bed and removes my shoes one, by one, dropping them onto the floor. His sweaty hands on my ankles make my skin crawl. I feel a big fat tear roll down my cheek but I can’t even wipe it away.

“Keep still, Tabitha. Don’t fight it.” He chuckles, enjoying his sick little joke. “This will be over soon.”

God help me.

The man walks around the bed to the other side. Despite my jumbled mind I try to recall his description. He’s tall and stocky, built like a rugby player. It’s no surprise he overwhelmed me so easily, especially once the drug started to take effect. The dark suit he’s wearing seems totally out of place on his frame. Why didn’t I notice that before? Perhaps he wore it to get to my hotel room without arousing suspicion. Appearances are everything, remember? There’s no question in my mind that he doesn’t work here. I’m trapped up here with a stranger.

Alone.

His hair is too long, swept back and dirty blonde and he has a mean look about the mouth. I try to notice scars; tattoos; even an earring or unusual jewellery but it’s impossible when I can no longer turn my head at will.

“Now I know what this looks like,” he tells me.

That totally freaks me. I want to scream for help, thrash and yell but it doesn’t happen.

He pulls the covers back on his side of the bed as if making to climb in. I want to vomit in fear. He reaches across, dragging me by an arm and a leg towards him until I’m lying on the bottom sheet. My dress slides up my thighs leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I ache to pull it down but feel completely helpless and frustrated that I can’t. My body feels like it’s cast in metal without any joints. My heart thunders, fit to burst but my respiration rate has abnormally slowed now. I’m a wild animal, cornered. Only it’s not possible to tell in my coma-like state.

“Just stay quiet and I won’t have to hurt you.” His chuckle chills me to the bone.

He’s not the only threat. If I vomit, I’ll choke and suffocate. I try hard not to vomit.

The guy pulls off his tie and slips his jacket off. The way he moves to the doorway and tosses them onto the sitting room floor like he dropped them out there in a hurry seems entirely strange. He appears in no hurry at all to hurt me. It’s as if he can’t conceive that someone might come at any moment and disturb him.

I recall housekeeping. Jack’s suit. They’ll return with it soon. I can make no sense of any of this. If only my head would clear a little.

“Seriously, doll, all jokes aside, don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

How long have I been here? I’m losing track of time. My mouth is drug-bitter, my tongue swollen like it’s growing too big for my mouth. I despair when he drags his shirt off and throws it across the sofa at the foot of the bed and disappears into the sitting room. He returns carrying the bottle of Champagne. I try to shut my eyes. I no longer want to see him but I haven’t even got that much control over my body. I hear him pour Champagne into the second glass and see he takes a gulp then remove something from his pocket which he tips into the liquid.

He observes my blank face. “Just a little top-up for insurance.”

He places the glass on the bedside table and moves in close. He heaves me into his arms so I’m flopped back across him with my back to his disgustingly naked chest. He forces another swallow of drugged Champagne down my unresisting throat.

He intends me to stay under. To do what? For how long? I can’t even sob.

“Doll, I’m gonna take your dress off now.”

Oh God, help me. Help me.

He pushes me so I flop forward like a rag and slides my zipper all the way down. He pushes the straps off my shoulders and lowers the top of the dress to my waist. I’m not wearing a bra and when he puts his meaty arm around me it brushes the undersides of my breasts. I feel the bile rising in my throat.

“Like a real-life doll.” He sounds amused.

He makes no attempt to grope me which confuses me even more but I’m pathetically grateful. I don’t know what’s happening. Another tear tracks its way down my cheek. He slides out from underneath me lowering me onto the mattress. Seeming not to want to hurt me, he moves me with care as he tweaks the dress from underneath my hips until I’m lying helpless, only in my panties.

“That should do for now.” He pulls the top sheet back up to cover my nakedness. “Don’t want you catching a chill.”

This is crazy. My immediate dread hasn’t happened but I know I’m not out of the woods yet. I can’t make sense of any of this. What if he’s waiting for Jack to arrive so he can do something awful to him instead? Maybe Jack’s the target who’s in danger. Is this about him or me? It’s not as if the guy can be holding me to ransom. No-one even knows I’m here.

Except Amanda.

Amanda.

I try and try to will my limbs to move but nothing works. I don’t intend to stop trying while I have breath left in my body. Someone will rescue me. His hand snakes between the sheets and my mind tenses as my body cannot. He finds my hand and fishes it out.

“Won’t be needing this.” He twists the pink diamond from my finger where it’s been all day.

He’s a thief? I’m almost relieved. Yet when he places it carefully on top of his discarded shirt, I realise it can’t be that. He’s making it look like I’ve abandoned it there.

I’m so caught up in that thought I barely hear the guy as he unzips his trousers. I was wrong.

God help me.

He wanted the luxury of a bed to violate me in. His trousers drop to the floor and he tugs off his shoes and socks and climbs under the covers beside me.

He reaches over and strokes his fingers through my hair a couple of times. I want to tell him to get the fuck off me but I have to lie there and take it.

“We might have a bit of a wait so we might as well be comfortable and relaxed.”

Is he kidding? What are we waiting for? Who? It can only be for Jack. My mind goes into overdrive. Does he have a gun? And why would he take our clothes off first. Nothing makes sense.

“We’ll be ready when the call comes.” He picks up a phone he’d placed on the cabinet, probably before losing the trousers, and checks on the time. “Not long to wait now.”

He has to know about tonight’s birthday plans. The only innocent people in all of this are me and Jack. Who would want to hurt us? Amanda and Advance planned this dinner as a nice surprise. According to Amanda they’ll be calling Jack to come and get me any time, as I’m supposedly stuck after losing my purse.

I don’t think I’m this guy’s target. He could have done all manner of horrible things to me by now but he hasn’t. If you ignore drugging and kidnapping, that is.

That leaves Jack. Would one of his so-called friends want to hurt him? And what part do I play in helping them do it? How could doping me senseless and placing me naked in bed with a guy, possibly hurt Jack?

God in heaven.

I try to clear the fog in my brain long enough to follow a single train of thought through to a logical conclusion. As fast as I go round – in circles – I keep arriving at the same place again.