Page 24 of Forbidden Eyes
I ignore the maître d’ and keep going. Luckily, there aren’t many patrons, just staff. I follow my nose, not sure if I’m following Carter anymore until I arrive at a backdoor. I push the emergency exit bar and warm, salty air blasts me. I step out and let the setting sun heat my air-conditioned skin.
The snick of the door behind me tells me I’ve been foolish and will have to go in search of another entrance. I round the corner, but halt, seeing Carter talking to another man in a suit next to a massive black SUV.
This meeting is nothing like the example of the business Carter has given me so far. I press myself closer to the wall to ensure I can’t be seen. The conversation between them is brief. Carter looks around as if checking he’s not being watched, before getting into the back of the SUV. Everything about him is suddenly different. More aggressive. Eyes hardened as if something needs dealing with and he's not happy. My heart rate increases, anxiety making me wonder what's going on, but the SUV screeches out of the back lot before I can take a guess.
What could be important enough to drag Carter away less than an hour from opening time?
Now the coast is clear, I head around the building looking to find my way back to the hotel or the casino. Instead of the restaurant, I go in search of a bar. Now that mybabysitterisn’t with me, there’s no one to stop me having a drink. I'm having one. Several. I'm a grown up, or at least a nineteen-year-old who can easily pass for twenty-one. I’m in a grown-up world with no father sitting on my shoulder for once.
Two very slowly sipped drinks and over two hours sitting at the bar, and I’m ready to give up on Carter.
The bar is on the far side to the restaurant, with one of the casino floors in between. It started to fill up after the first hour and now it's bustling with a range of guests. All seem to be on their way to being drunk already. The cheers of winners and the electronic pinging of slot machines from the edge of the floor clash with the music in the bar.
“Hey, you seem kinda lonely.” A man with a southern drawl comes up to me.
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” I turn away, hoping he won’t bother me again.
“Oh, come on now, sugar. That’s no way to be polite.”
“I’m sorry, but I beg to differ. I'm perfectly polite. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I slip from my stool and head away from him.
“Wait, wait, wait.” The man, who might be dressed in a suit but looks anything but smart in it, puts his hands up and blocks my exit. “I just thought we could have a drink. Celebrate a little. You can be my good luck charm for when I hit the tables.”
“Please move,” I ask, ignoring the rest of his drivel.
Instead, he begins to crowd me, forcing me to stop. My instinct to run kicks in, but I fight it. That’s not what I’ve been trained to do. At the moment, he’s not touched me, and if I want to leave without an assault charge, he's going to have to make the wrong move first.
Seven
My finger scrolls through the security protocols on my phone, looking for the penthouse to see if it’s been accessed. It hasn’t, and she’s not where I damn well left her. I stand and stare out into the main floor, scrutinizing the guests and searching for the blue cocktail dress that I tried not to give a damn for. It’s hot as hell, which is, yet again, something I shouldn’t be thinking about, but fuck if it isn’t the hardest thing not to do.
Leggy. Breasts perched exactly where I want them. And heels? Fuck me.
I need a drink.
Or another woman to look at.
“Mr Wade?” My head swings to look at Errol Gambit—apt name for the new floor manager. “Security have seen her in the bar on the mid deck. Do you want me to—”
Fuck.
I barge past him and head down to it, tucking my phone back into my pocket.
No booze. That’s what Quinn said. And by the look of her tonight, hair all piled up and a fucking obscene dress hugging curves no one should be looking at, she won’t have a problem with ID. She clearly doesn’t care about the rules she should be following.
The crowds hamper my route, which is good for business, but I find myself crashing through guests and not giving a fuck for their proximity.
Keep her safe—that’s my job. This place is filling up with creeps and their wandering fingers, all of whom will be far too interested in something that looks like her tonight. If anyone’s touching her, it’ll be me, not them. I shake my head, wishing she was anything but what she is. Sexy as fuck. Perfect everything. Pouty mouth that needs my dick shoving into it. Jesus.
The bar door bursts inwards, my hand pushing a guy out of the way in the process, and the first thing I see is a whirl of blue in the middle of the space. Her body twists, arm turning in the hold of some asshole who’s clearly tried it on. The lock he has on her is broken in an instant, and I watch as she perfects some precision moves to get out of the situation she’s in. I’m in stasis watching it, feet refusing to move until I’ve seen her battle her way out. Her elbow reels up into his face, followed by her knee straight to his groin. The guy doubles over, and then the heel of her hand sends the dick flying to his back. My mouth opens, mind waking the hell up again to get to her and help. Her neck cricks, eyes like daggers at what is now rolling on the floor beneath her feet. Sex on legs. Pure, unadulterated hellcat.
And where the fuck did it come from?
My legs finally catch up with my need to be a hero, and I charge through the last of the crowds to get to her. Not that I’m necessary anymore, but I might just kick the cunt for good measure. At the very least have him thrown out of the place. Another person gets knocked, as I reach for her shoulder to get her away from the clatter of people around her, but the moment my fingers land on her skin my jaw explodes in pain. My head reels back, my feet barely managing to keep me upright. The hell?
My hand slowly reaches for my jaw, the sting not something I’ve felt for a while, and I turn to look back at her. She’s poised, hands up in some defensive stance, feet planted as if she’s about to launch round fucking two. Everything in the moment slows. Timeless. The pain in my jaw, the look of her ready to deliver more. Both things seem to meld into something new for me. Something different.
Her mouth stutters, and she seems to regain focus, arms starting to drop from their position. I’m still in too much damn pain for actual words, so I wait, moving my jaw around and grinding my teeth to get traction on what the hell just went down.