Locked (2 page)

As I arrived in front of the guard, I rocked backwards on my heels, blinking rapidly, as though spotting him for the first time. "Well hello handsome," I said in my best drunken drawl.

The man's lips tightened. "Miss, I'm sorry but this is a private area."

I giggled and batted my eyelashes. "Oh come on now, I just want to talk. Doesn't it get lonely just standing here by yourself all night?"

"I'm fine, but Miss please, I need to keep the doorway clear."

I pondered this for a few seconds. "Well then, I have an idea. How about you come and join me for a drink over there. You can watch your little door sitting down, and I won't be in the way anymore!"

He stared down at me, unblinking and stony faced. "Miss, I'm sorry, but I'm on duty. Please return to your table."

My stomach tightened. I'd been planning on playing it more slowly, but he obviously wasn't in the mood to chat. It was now or never. "Surely you get a break?" I said, leaning in closer to brush his arm. "Even a man like you needs a—oh god I'm so sorry!"

He uttered something sharp and flinched backwards, a red stain already blossoming on his chest. I gaped up at him.

"I've ruined your shirt." Setting my now empty wine glass on a nearby table, I reached for some napkins. "I've always been so clumsy. I can't seem to go a day without spilling something. Here, let me clean you up."

As I talked, my eyes flicked to the small plastic receiver that was clipped to his breast pocket. I knew enough about security equipment to know that most earpieces had one. It sent and received signals from the main hub. The question was, had I hit it? In the dim light of the bar it was hard to tell.

I stepped closer to dab his shirt, hoping to get a better look, but he caught my arms in one strong hand. "You've done enough," he said, all politeness gone from his voice. "It's time for you to leave."

He raised his hands to his ear. "Command, this is Jones. I've got a situation here." Seconds passed and nothing happened. He began to look worried. "Command? Hello?" A few more seconds. "Fuck!"

Jackpot
.

Now came the real test. He glared down at me, seemingly unsure what to do. As far as I could see, he had two choices. He could wait there until someone came to find out why he'd dropped off the grid, or he could duck inside quickly to let them know there was a problem. Both options had their risks. I was banking on him choosing the latter.

But first, I had to convince him to let me throw myself out. I tried my best to look harmless and afraid, which wasn't difficult. He was an incredibly intimidating man, and his grip felt like a vice around my wrists.
What if I've already gone too far? What if I've bitten off more than I can chew?
I closed my eyes briefly and tried not to panic.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll go," I said, keeping my voice meek.

He weighed this up momentarily. "I don't want to see you here again," he said, nodding to the bar.

"No sir."

"I'm going to go clean up, and when I come back, I expect to see you gone."

"No problem."

"Good." He released me.

Giving him one last apologetic smile, I turned and tottered off across the room, breathing a sigh of relief. So far so good.

The front door itself couldn't be seen from his vantage. The bar hooked around ninety degrees at one end, with the exit around the corner. Assuming he stayed put, I could hide there without actually leaving.

It was difficult to resist the urge to look back. I could feel his eyes following me as I walked.

Rounding the corner, I finally let the act drop. Throwing my elbow on the bar, I closed my eyes and sucked in several deep breaths. Even though everything had gone to plan, the whole experience had been decidedly more nerve wracking than I'd expected. Blood was roaring in my ears and I could still feel the buzz of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I briefly debated giving up. People that hired security like that typically did it for a reason; they didn't want to be disturbed. But most of the hard work was already done, and besides, the thought of trudging back to the table and seeing Louisa's snide smile was a little too much to bear at that moment.

Hiding as best I could behind a rack of glasses, I leaned back around the corner and peeked up over the bar. The guard was still at his post, looking conflicted. He cast his eyes around the room, weighing his options. If his employers were looking for privacy, they'd chosen a great location. Even when we'd arrived, the bar had contained less than twenty people, and now in the wee hours of the morning, that number had dwindled considerably. The few remaining patrons were huddled in bleary eyed groups, engrossed in soft conversation. None seemed to be paying much attention to what was going on up the back. It wasn't exactly a high risk situation.

Still, he took his time.
Go on you bastard. Do it.
And after an agonising few seconds, he did. Giving the room one final scan, he spun and marched through the doorway.

I had to restrain myself from cheering.
Not there yet. Now you actually have to get in.
I counted to three slowly in my head, and began walking casually back the way I'd come. Nobody in the room paid me any mind. Catching the girls' eyes, I flashed a triumphant smile. Ruth laughed and stuck up her thumb.

Pausing at the doorway, I took one last look around the room, sucked in a deep breath, and walked through.

CHAPTER TWO

Rather than opening directly into another room, the doorway led to a long passage that ran for sixty feet or so and then hooked off to the right. I reflexively pressed myself against the wall as I caught sight of the guard disappearing around the far corner. Thankfully, he didn't look back.

There was a low buzz emanating from the other end of the corridor. It grew steadily louder the closer I got. Since the door had opened, we'd witnessed maybe two dozen people let through. It was a decent sized group, but not nearly enough to make that sort of noise. I had no idea what it meant.

For the last hour, I'd been trying to picture what lay hidden back there. I'd conjured images of exclusive restaurants and secret board rooms. But nothing prepared me for the reality of what was around the bend.

I turned the corner, and stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes darting left and right, madly trying to take in everything that lay before me. The entire place reeked of decadence. If you took away all the trappings, it
was
basically just a function room, but it was the most lavish function I'd ever seen. The space was far longer than I'd expected; over two hundred feet of polished wood, lush curtains and decorative brass. To one side lay a long redwood bar, laden with more varieties of liquor than I could count. To the other sat circles of high-backed lounges, most of which were filled with suited men, laughing and chatting and swilling drinks. The whole room smelled of malt and cologne and the sharp, earthy scent of leather. There was enough testosterone in the air to corrupt a nunnery.

What really took me by surprise however, was the pool that wove its way up the centre of the room. It was a beautiful sight. Elegantly curved and bathed in colour, it shimmered under a dizzying array of shifting lights that shone down from the roof above.

As I'd suspected, there were far more people present than we'd seen enter. At least a hundred. But where the hell had they all come from? Obviously there had to be other entrances, but why not just come in the front? The whole situation was getting stranger by the minute.

It seemed that whatever the men were discussing, the girls weren't welcome. Most were making good use of the pool, either swimming or lazing on sun chairs to the side, chatting in little groups. A few of them cast eyes my way, like hopefuls at a casting call sizing up their competition.
Relax girls, I'm just visiting.

As I scanned the room, I spotted several more security personnel posted along the walls. With their dark glasses, it was impossible to tell what they were looking at. At least one was talking into his earpiece, but nobody appeared to be moving towards me. Still, I knew I had to blend in fast.

Unfortunately, the whole place was so overwhelming that I had no idea what to do next. I couldn't see Chase anywhere, and even if I had, I wasn't sure what help that would be. It wasn't like I could just wander up and say hi. I was in over my head. To be honest, I don't think I'd really expected to make it that far. In the heat of the moment, the only plan that sprang to mind was, 'don't get caught.'

So, operating purely on instinct, I headed for the bar. I knew more drink was probably not the wisest move, but it was the most inconspicuous action I could think of, and it would buy me a little time.

"Champagne please," I said to one of the girls behind the counter, doing my best to look at ease.

"Of course. Would you like to see the full list? Otherwise I can recommend a few things. The Dom Perignon ninety-five, the Bollinger ninety-eight and the Krug eighty-eight are all drinking wonderfully at the moment."

I paused, before breaking into a laugh.
What did you expect girl, a ten dollar Prosecco?

I opened my mouth to respond, but a voice cut in from a little way up the bar. "She'll have a glass of the Krug thanks Amber. And I'll take another Laphroaig. Neat." The man turned his attention to me. "The Krug is lovely. Dry, fruity, but with a hint of sweetness too. And the smell is to die for. I think you'll like it."

As he spoke, he rose and casually moved over to sit next to me. It wasn't my first rodeo. I knew when a man was making a move. And as much as his presumptuousness would normally have annoyed me, I found it difficult to muster much anger. He was gorgeous; a tall, lithe body wrapped in a crisp, charcoal three-piece suit. There's something so god damn sexy about a man who's confident enough to wear a three-piece. It's sophisticated, but with just the right amount of old school charm.

I cast my eyes over him unashamedly, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his hands, the way his jacket pulled tight over the powerful curves of his chest. He looked like he'd walked in directly from the set of a Hugo Boss advertisement. My pulse quickened once more.

As I studied him, he stared back, an odd smile playing on his lips. He was older than me, but not old, maybe early thirties, and he had the kind of dark complexion that always set my stomach tingling. That perfect, tantalising combination of olive skin, rugged stubble, and black, unruly hair. However, it was his eyes that really took me down for the count. Sharp and forest-green, they managed to be playful yet incredibly intense. I felt strangely powerless beneath that gaze, like he wasn't just looking at me, but into me. It wasn't fair for a man to have eyes like that.

Eventually, he glanced away, breaking the spell. As my brain kicked back into gear, I was annoyed to find myself adjusting my top.
Come on Sophia, get a grip. He's hardly the first attractive guy who's ever hit on you.
I placed my hands purposefully back on the bar, trying my best not to blush.

"And how would you know what I like?" I asked, adding a little venom to my voice. I hated being taken off balance like that.

"Oh, I don't know. Call it...men's intuition."

I rolled my eyes. "In my experience, men's intuition is rarely as good as they think it is."

He laughed, a look of mock offence appearing on his face. "You'll just have to wait and see won't you?"

His voice was deep and melodic, with hints of an accent; a faint European lilt that I couldn't quite place. It sent a shiver up my spine. I really wanted to be annoyed — that sort of aggressive approach was usually a major turn off for me — but he was making it very difficult.

"I'm Sebastian," he said, offering his hand.

"Sophia," I replied, returning the gesture. His grip was firm, his hand surprisingly rough, and it lingered a little longer than I'd expected.

"What a lovely name."

"It does the job," I said slowly.

He nodded, but said nothing else, seemingly happy to simply sit and study me. "Well Sebastian," I said eventually, feeling strangely self-conscious in the silence, "do you normally approach random girls in bars and select their drinks for them?"

His smile widened. "Quite often, yes."

"And how does that work out for you?"

"It usually has the desired effect."

I laughed. "Oh, and what might that be?"

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he replied, in a way that did just that. I felt a brief flash of desire at the suggestion, but quickly smothered it. Sure he was attractive, but I wasn't there to become some CEO's trophy lay for the night.

I knew that this was a golden opportunity to find out who these people were, but slightly impaired as I was, I was struggling to find an opening. It didn't help that Sebastian had me completely on the back foot. At first glance he seemed confident and charming, the sort of guy I saw every day around the office. But behind that roguish charisma lay something dangerously alluring; a potent strength that seemed to beckon to my very core. It was intimidating, arousing, and more than a little distracting.

At that moment the waitress arrived, Champagne and scotch in hand.