Enthrall Page 11

  “Okay,” I muttered and headed in the opposite direction. I gave each piece of ground gained special attention. I didn’t want to miss anything. I flashed my light beam at the ceiling, the floor, and the walls on both sides of me. Soon, I ran into a flight of stairs that I could actually take. The way heading downward was calling my name, so I went in that direction.

  Carefully, I descended the stairs. After the fifth landing with no door leading out of the stairwell, I knew I was no longer in the main house, which only had four levels. I kept my eyes peeled for an exit. I was determined to give up and return to my room when, after one more flight down, I finally reached the bottom. A wide open space led to another concrete-floored, dimly lit hallway.

  My heart raced as fear grabbed hold of me. I still wanted to go back to my room, but my feet carried me forward because I had come so far that there was no use in turning back. But my instincts were on high alert. Finally, I arrived at a white wooden door with a square piece of glass at the top of it. I reached out to turn the knob but then pulled back. What if there were dead bodies in there, and I had to phone the authorities to report what I’d found? I spread the hem of my shirt on the knob, but just as I did that, another cautionary thought entered my mind. What if I needed to prove I’d been there? They would need to find my DNA if they managed to locate this space in the first place.

  In the midst of all those grim thoughts, I heard the faint sound of a power tool and felt the vibrations on the bottoms of my feet. The sound came from behind the door, so I hurried up and opened it and padded toward the noise. I cautiously rounded another corner and then stopped in my tracks. I gasped sharply and pressed a hand over my mouth. Way at the end of the hall, illuminated by the light of a floor lamp, was Spencer, dressed in his standard cargo pants and a thick sweatshirt, chiseling away at the wall with something that resembled a jackhammer.

  My confused feet didn’t know what to do next—rush in the opposite direction or toward him. Too bad I didn’t have a chance to make that decision on my own.

  The roaring mixed with the sound of metal pounding cement stopped. I squinted from the bright light stabbing me in the face.

  “What the hell are you doing down here?” Spencer roared, his voice bouncing off the wall and socking me in the ears.

  “I just…” I realized he couldn’t have heard me say that.

  His feet pounded the floor, heading in my direction.

  Run! the voice in my head yelled.

  I decided to obey, turning my back on the light. Before I could take my first step, Spencer’s strong hand wrapped around my arm.

  “Are you running away from me?” He sounded surprised.

  We were face to face, and he was backing me up against the wall. A face mask was pushed back on top of his head, and his skin was sweaty. His eyes looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He looked angry but also a bit intrigued.

  I gulped. “Um, sorry for being here. I was just… I mean, I found all of this by mistake.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. I was breathing so heavily that I was electrically aware of my chest expanding and deflating.

  “This is not the kind of place you find by mistake,” he finally said.

  I swallowed, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. I knew what the right thing to do was. I had been caught, and perhaps deep down I’d wanted him to see me so that I could tell him what I’d done.

  “I read the book,” I said.

  He shifted his glare away from my face and then back. Spencer scratched behind his ear as he took a step back. My body felt the distance he’d put between us, and so did my heart.

  “Get out of here,” he muttered.

  My jaw slackened and eyes burned. I was at a loss for words. Pressing my lips together, ashamed of myself for being sneaky, I nodded.

  “I’ve asked you not to read the book,” he said before I could take my first step.

  I shook my head, barely able to look him in the eye. “No, you said you prefer that I not read it.”

  I didn’t think his frown could grow more intense, but it did. Then, striking like a cobra, his lips were on mine and our tongues were swirling around each other, each of us trying to push deeper into the other’s mouth. I heard my cellphone hit the concrete as I wrapped my arms around his neck. If only I could merge into his body and we could become one. With each passing second, our kissing turned more passionate.

  Suddenly, he ripped his mouth off mine, pressing his forehead onto the top of my head. “Go.”

  I felt dazed, and his kiss had made me hypersensitive. What I heard him say was Leave this house—get out of my life. So I ran like the wind, half expecting him to give chase, draw me back into him, and make mad passionate love to me. But as soon as I had made it to the staircase, I knew for sure that was wishful thinking.

  When I made it back to the room, I fell on top of my bed, letting my tears roll freely down my cheeks. I waited for Felix to knock on my door and let me know when a car would be taking me to the airport. The minutes turned to hours.

  The ringing of the room phone awakened me. My heart sank as I answered it. “Hello?” I felt heavy and sad.

  “Jada, will you be having dinner tonight?” Marta asked.

  I sat up quickly. “Does Mr. Christmas…?” I stopped myself cold when I saw my cellphone sitting on the nightstand. I realized it hadn’t been with me when I returned to my room, which meant I’d dropped it in the tunnels. Spencer must have returned it. He had been in my room while I was sleeping again. If he wanted me gone, surely by then he would have directed his staff to ready me for departure.

  “Thank you,” I finally told Marta. “I’ll eat in the dining room.”

  As I washed my face, which was battered from the crying, I hoped Spencer would find it in himself to join me for dinner.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The dining room was just as lonely as I remembered it being. I ate alone and hated it the same as I had before. By the time I finished dinner, which was a delicious bowl of shrimp and cheese grits, I knew for sure he would not be joining me. I decided to call Hope to ease my loneliness and put what had happened deep in the catacombs out of my mind. It was three hours later in New York, which made it one in the morning there. However, it was Monday night, and I knew exactly where she’d be.

  Hope answered my call on the first ring. “I had just stepped out of the Cantina to call you, my love,” she said, sounding extra happy from cocktails and conversation.

  “I hear that you’re having a ball,” I said, trying to not sound sad about it.

  She chuckled delightedly, too tipsy to detect my blues. “So, you fucked Spencer Christmas? How was it?”

  She said that so loudly that I checked across both my shoulders to make sure no one had heard it. “Keep your voice down,” I whispered.

  “Oh, shit, Jada. Relax. You’re not here. So… how was it?”

  I recalled our last kiss, him doing me in the shower, and of course, that first night when he promised to make my first time pleasurable. “It was amazing.”

  “First of all, you don’t sound as if it was that amazing. And secondly, no one’s first time is ever amazing. That shit hurts like hell. Unless he has a little dick, but the rumor is, Spencer Christmas is well hung.”

  After confirming that Spencer was indeed “well hung,” I explained to her exactly how he’d done it, using a sex toy and making sure he entered me only when I was climaxing.

  “Ah!” Hope screamed so loudly that I jumped. She only did that when she was thoroughly amused. “He should hold seminars on that shit and teach his technique to every fucking dude who takes a stab at virgin pussy! Holy shit, can I rewind the clock and have him fuck me for the first time too?”

  I laughed, trying not to picture Spencer doing it with my best friend.

  “Uh-oh,” she said.

  I sat up. “What?”

  “You’re falling for him. Don’t do it.”

  I felt my eyebrows pull together. “I’m not falling f
or him.” I think I’ve already fallen for him. “We’re not going to do it again.” There was no need to tell her about what had happened in the catacombs. Plus, that place was a secret, and I was loyal enough to my new boss—and now ex-lover—to keep it that way.

  “Okay, but how many times have the two of you had sex?” She sounded as if she was cross-examining me.

  I twisted my mouth squeamishly.

  “More than once?” she asked.

  “Just twice,” I said, hoping that was enough to change her mind about me falling for Spencer.

  She sighed long and hard. “I’m concerned about you, lovely. You’re brand-new at this fucking thing, and sex has a pretty powerful effect on a woman.”

  I groaned as I rolled my eyes. “You’re telling me.”

  “Right… just remember that it’s not real. That’s why it’s called making love—because it could feel like love, but it’s really made-up love, not real love that comes from a feeling that’s harmoniously produced by the heart and mind.”

  I swallowed. “Okay, lovely,” I said past my tight throat as tears filled my eyes. God, I loved Hope. I knew she was the right person to call at a time such as this. Her steadiness and deep understanding of the human condition made her nonjudgmental, which was why we were best friends.

  “Are you sure you can handle the job after boning him?”

  “Good question.” I visualized the money he’d put in my account. “For now, I can. I’ll keep it all business, no more pleasure.”

  I detected the doubt in her grunt. “Listen, if you slip up and fuck him again, don’t beat yourself up about it. Remember, it’s not real. What he means to you, how he treats you when his dick isn’t in your vag, that’s what’s real. Understand?”

  I groaned, sighed, and closed my eyes to stave off all my intense feelings for Spencer Christmas, which were probably due to our fucking. “I understand.”

  “Good.” She announced that she had to go but would call me soon.

  Once we hung up, I was immediately homesick. I should have been at the Cantina that night. I had a feeling I would have been more open to meeting guys and learning about them than I’d been in the past. Men were still such a mystery to me, but being with Spencer Christmas had opened me up to learning more about them.

  After dinner, I went to bed. It took a while to get to sleep. At some point, I had given up hope that Spencer would find his way to my bed. But when my alarm rang, I was still disappointed that it hadn’t happened.

  When I dressed for the office, I was back to my old habits of making sure I looked good just in case I encountered my boss. I put on a pencil skirt with a tight V-neck sweater that showed off my cleavage. Spencer loved feasting on my tits. If he happened to be spying on me, he would see me in the sweater and race up to the main house to dine on them and on the rest of me.

  However, as the day went by in its usual manner, I saw no sign that Spencer Christmas was even in the house. Dillon Gross, one of the investment bankers, complimented me on how nice I looked at the end of our videoconference. He asked me out on a date even though I was in another state.

  “Where are you, anyway?” he asked.

  The rule was that I wasn’t supposed to say. I winked at him. “Far away.”

  “Then I’ll fly you to me, or even better, I’ll fly you to wherever you want to go, anywhere in the world, and meet you there.”

  I smiled at him graciously. His offer was sweet, but I was overly familiar with his type. They chased hard, but after the bait was caught, their love ran weak.

  “Thank you very much for the offer, Dillon, but I’m not interested in romantic interludes at the moment. It’s not personal.”

  “Ah… I see,” he said, nodding. “He got to you first.”

  I smashed my lips together harder but then realized the tension in my mouth was giving me away. “Dillon, I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your day. I’ll have Mr. Christmas look over your proposal.”

  “Hey.” He looked over his shoulder. “He doesn’t have to dig deep. It’s all in order. We need a signature, and we’ll move forward from there.”

  His flirting suddenly felt like tactical flattery. “I understand,” I said.

  All the cordiality had drained from his expression, and he looked threatening. “Do you?”

  I nodded curtly, keeping it professional. “Of course.”

  He studied me for a moment and then chuckled. “Are you sure you’re not available to join me somewhere?”

  “Nope,” I said and announced that I had to go.

  He reminded me that he needed the forms signed and overnighted to him pronto.

  “You’ll get them.” I ended the call before he could reply.

  There was something sleazy about Dillon Gross. I spent a good chunk of time searching for data regarding his special project. I couldn’t find anything on any of the databases other than projected returns and a summary of investment destinations, so I spent a lot of time digging deeper. When that yielded little information, I logged out of my computer as me and logged in as Spencer Christmas and was given access to restricted databases. I was able to locate names of investors attached to Dillon’s projects, and the funny thing was that my mother’s name and account came up as well as a few other politicos I recognized. At least now I knew why Dillon hadn’t wanted me to dig deeper into his project. I suspected he saw my involvement in my mother’s investment aspirations as a conflict of interest.

  Marta brought me lunch and several snacks as I worked into the early evening. I ate dinner in my room again and made phone calls. First, I talked to my friend Angela, who told me all about how her job sucked, until the recounting of the day’s affairs made her stomach queasy and she had to end our call to go throw up. Next, I called Hope and listened attentively as she told me all about the new district attorney, who she said was a cocky and slippery jerk.

  “He looks like a mob boss. I bet he’s dirty as hell. I wish you were here, because you’re really good at assessing people. You’d know, Jada. One conversation with limp dick, and you’d know.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, what happened between the two of you?”

  “Huh?” She sounded surprised.

  “What happened?”

  Hope sighed in defeat. “Okay, but you can’t laugh.”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  She made me promise again and commenced to tell me about being picked up by a smooth talker the previous night at the Cantina. They had good sex. Lo and behold, she ended up facing him in court that afternoon. He was the prosecutor against her client and used every slimy trick in the book to win.

  “But wouldn’t he be a defense attorney if he was working for the mob?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily,” she snapped.

  I threw my hands up. “Don’t bite my head off. Just beat him at his own game the next time you face him in court, Hope.”

  Hope went silent. Then she said she would do just that and told me she was tired and had to go. I was tired too.

  After I finished eating, I called the kitchen to pick up my dishes and went to bed. I experienced another night of tossing, turning, and hoping Spencer would wake me up during the night, and again, he didn’t.

  Another day had arrived. After dressing myself, this time taking less effort to appear attractive for a man who I was sure wasn’t going to see, I stood in front of the mirror that opened to Spencer’s secret space.

  I contemplated not doing it, but after a few minutes, I dug my fingertips behind the frame and pulled. The thing didn’t budge, so I pulled harder.

  “Ha,” I said, scoffing.

  Spencer had sealed the entry.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, feeling sick to my stomach. Spencer locking me out of his secrets felt like a kick in the gut and heart. I knew I had no reason to feel upset, but regardless, I did. With a deep intake of air through my nostrils, I closed my eyes. I held the breath, determined to only release it when I was done with Spencer Christmas.
It had been two days since I’d seen him. I didn’t know whether he was still holed up in the belly of the house or had left the property. And what in the hell is he looking for in the walls? Gold? Bodies? Whatever it was, he didn’t want me to know.

  I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and was forced to let go of it. Spencer Christmas still saturated my heart. The next best thing I could do to banish him from my thoughts was get to work, so I called Marta and asked if my breakfast could be brought to the office, where I went to start my day.

  As soon as I was downstairs, I went straight to the inbox. It was empty. In the outbox, on top of Spencer’s responses, was a sticky. I snatched off the paper, and my heart turned flips when I read, Good work. See you soon.

  By noon, Spencer had not fulfilled his promise to see me soon, and that pissed me off. But work kept me from obsessing over him. I was in full throttle. All of Spencer’s company managers, directors, and VPs were used to hearing from me. That let me know that I’d made it through the tough part, which was being competent enough to earn their respect. I was also pretty sure being Patricia and John Forte’s daughter had something to do with it. No matter how much distance I wanted to put between my parents and me, they always seemed to catch up with me.

  By seven o’clock in the evening, I was spent, and I needed to do something new besides going upstairs and calling any of my friends who would engage in a conversation. I decided to drive down to the atrium for a late-day swim.

  And as far as Spencer’s “See you soon” was concerned, he hadn’t shown his face once that day. By the time I shut down my computer and turned off the lights, I had decided to forget that I had ever been attracted to him.

  It was freezing cold outside, but I hadn’t gotten out of the house in so long that I welcomed it. Sarah looked surprised to see me when I walked in the door. She greeted me with excited hand-waving as I walked in her direction. She had a bag hanging on her shoulder, and she clutched it as if I’d just caught her before she left for the day.