His Wicked Games (His Wicked Games #1) (17 page)

I’m almost afraid to ask the question. “What
do you want?”

He leans toward me, and for a breathless
moment I think he's going to kiss me, but he stops just shy of my
lips.

“If I win,” he murmurs, “then you're mine.
All night.”

My heart stutters in my chest. “Yours?”

“At my mercy,” he breathes. He runs a single
finger down my neck.

“Should I be afraid?” I ask him.

An eager smile stretches across his lips.
“Very.”

Before I can respond, he steps away from
me.

“Meet me back here in two hours,” he says.
“I’ll have Martin send some lunch up to you.”

I can only nod as he walks away.

* * *

At the designated time, I return to the
foyer. I wish I could say I spent our hour apart doing something
productive, but all I managed to do was change into dry
clothes—jeans and a tank top, which seem a little more practical
for hide and seek than another sundress—and fret about our
impending game. Even now, I’m not sure I should have agreed to
this. There’s still time to back out, to run back to my room and
lock the door and end this madness before it begins.

But refusing to play means giving up on the
Center—or so I tell myself.

I stand against the wall as I wait. Calder is
late. I wonder a little about the business that took him away so
urgently, but maybe it’s better that I don’t know. I suspect
anything I learn about the way he handles his affairs will only
make me angry, and right now I want to forget how much I hate
him.

I glance down at my phone. It’s ten minutes
past the time we were supposed to meet. What if he changed his
mind? What if he decided this was a stupid idea after all?

The message icon is flashing in the corner of
my phone’s screen. Garrett called again about an hour ago, and this
time he left a voicemail. I considered calling him and reminding
him to consult my dad with any questions or concerns, but I’m
afraid that even that much of a response will only encourage him. I
knew I was opening a big fat can of worms when I dialed his number,
but I won’t fall into the trap of allowing open communication
between us again.

“Is something wrong?”

I nearly drop my phone at the sound of
Calder’s voice. He’s managed to sneak up on me while I’m standing
here fretting about Garrett.

“I’m fine,” I say, smiling up at him.
No
need to bother him over my crazy ex.
“But you’re late.”

“A terrible crime.” He takes my hand and
brings it up to his lips. “Tell me, how do you plan on punishing
me?”

I disentangle myself before he gets me too
worked up. I have a game to win.

“We can worry about punishment later,” I say.
“Right now, we have more important business.”

His eyes darken. “Indeed.”

I look down at my phone. “We should go ahead
and set our alarms for an hour from now.”

He pulls out his own cell and follows
suit.

“Set another for ten minutes from now,” he
says. “So you’ll know when your head start is up.”

“Just to be clear,” I say, determined to
avoid any miscommunication this time around, “the game is over when
the final alarm goes off, or when you catch me. Whichever happens
first.”

He nods. “Correct.”

“I think we should define what constitutes a
capture
,” I say. “It’s not enough to spot me across a room
or a hallway right before the alarm goes off.”

He smiles. “You mean that I’m required to
have you in my possession.”

The way he says that final word sends a tiny
thrill through me.

“You at least have to touch me,” I say.

“I’ll touch you any way you like,” he says, a
gleam of amusement in his eye. “But yes, I think it’s a fair
rule.”

I nod. That’s settled, at least.

“Anything else we should go over?” I ask.
“Anywhere in the house that’s off limits?”

“I know better than to answer that,” he says,
“or you’ll head straight there.” He glances down at his phone, then
back at me. “And I’m willing to discuss whatever else you want, but
I think it’s only fair to point out that your ten minutes are
ticking away very quickly.”

Shit
. I twist away from him, but not
before catching the devilish anticipation that sweeps across his
face. The asshole thinks he’s won already.

I run to the nearest door. I have no idea
where it leads, but there isn’t time to stop and consider. This is
my final shot to win back our money. I need to win.

“Don’t worry,” he calls after me. “You’ll
enjoy the night I have planned for you.”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

<<>>

I have seven minutes left and absolutely no
plan.

This house is huge, and Calder's tour did
little more than make it clear that it would take me a year to
learn my way around this place. I have no idea where I'm going, let
alone where I might find a suitable place to hide.

All the same, something surges through me as
I run down the hallway. In spite of everything—and even though it's
completely crazy—I think I’m as excited as Calder by our little
game. More than excited—
enthralled
.

Maybe I should let him catch me. The promise
of his words still echoes through my mind. If I wanted, I could be
at his mercy all night. The prospect tempts me more than I want to
admit.

But reality hits me quick and hard: I can't
allow myself to be caught up in this. There's too much at stake.
The Center's entire future falls on the outcome of this “little”
game, and I'm not going to let my own weakness destroy the thing my
dad worked so hard to build. Calder is sexy, yes, and our encounter
in the car was probably the best sex I've had in my life, but this
is only lust. Lust and self-indulgence.

I run up a flight of stairs. My only strategy
right now is to get as far away from Calder and the foyer as
possible. The further I run, the longer it will take him to get to
me, and in this game every minute counts. Maybe it's better if I
don't hide at all, but continually change my location—after all, a
moving target is much harder to hit.

My cell buzzes in my pocket. Is my head start
up already?

I turn down another hallway and run all the
way to the end. Calder will be leaving the foyer now. At the very
least I need to find somewhere out of the main thoroughfare where I
might bide my time. It won't do me any good to go noisily sprinting
down the corridors.

Without even thinking, I find myself heading
in the relatively familiar direction of my bedroom. It's not until
I'm outside the door, however, that the thought hits me: I should
sneak into the secret passage. It’s perfect—I can wait behind the
walls and possibly even spy on Calder's progress in the
meantime.

I dash over to the fireplace and grab the
poker. The panel swings open, and I quickly duck into the passage,
pulling the door closed behind me. I yank my phone from my pocket
and use the dim glow from the screen to light my way as I move
through the dark.

I'm supposed to be concentrating on my goal,
thinking of the Center and the money I'll win back for us, but my
thoughts keep drifting back to the last time I was here. Just the
memory of my naughty spying session sends blood rushing to my face.
I’m glad there’s no one here to see me.

I recognize the way the passage curves just
before Calder's room, and I stop and lean against the wall. This is
as good a place as any to hole up for a while. I pull my phone from
my pocket and glance at the screen. It's been six minutes since the
first alarm went off. Fifty-four minutes to go.

I sit down and lean my head back against the
wall. The floor is cold and hard, but all in all I can think of a
dozen less comfortable places to spend the next hour. At least I'm
not twisted and cramped in a cabinet somewhere or something.

I can do this. I can win back the money for
the Center. In the long run, it doesn’t matter that I had sex with
Calder—I can make up for the craziness of the last two days in the
next hour. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and wait.

* * *

Seventeen minutes later, I hear
footsteps.

My head jerks up, but even then I have
trouble placing their location. Are they coming from above me? On
the other side of this wall? The sound bounces around the passage,
and only one thing is clear: wherever they are, they're getting
closer.

I draw my knees up to my chest and wait,
rigid. My mind is racing. Should I stay here like this? Or should I
try to spot him through the spy holes along the walls? If I move,
there's a chance he'll hear me, but it would give me an advantage
to see and know exactly where he is.

In the end, he makes my decision for me. Just
when I'm about to make a move for the spy holes, my ears finally
pick up on where he is, and it's no wonder it took me so long to
place him.

He's in the passageway with me.

Shit!
How did he find me so fast? Did
he slip a tracking device on me or something?

But no, I realize too late that he probably
had the same idea I did. He wanted the secret vantage points these
passageways offered. I'm an idiot for underestimating him in his
own house.

He's too close now. There's no time to run.
If he hears my footsteps he'll chase after me, and he proved back
on the first night when he tackled me outside that he can outrun
me. No, my only chance is to remain hidden and hope he walks right
by.

I move slowly to my feet. Farther down the
passage I see the soft blue light of his phone bouncing off the
darkness. I sidle along the wall, feeling behind me for any nook or
cranny where I might duck out of sight. After a few desperate
moments I find a little alcove, and I manage to squeeze inside just
as Calder comes around the curve in the passage.

I hold my breath as he strides toward me. He
holds his cell phone out to light the way for his feet, and the
light moves over the spot where I was sitting just a moment ago. At
least I made the right decision in moving.

He stops next to the spy holes that look onto
his bedroom. In the dim light, I can just make out his face. The
way the shadows play across his jaw and cheekbones only enhance the
intensity radiating from his eyes. There's no doubt he means to
find me—and have his way with me. A shiver races down my back.

I watch him lean forward and peer through the
slits in the wall. Arrogant asshole. Does he really think I'd be
dumb enough to hide in his bedroom? I want to laugh, and I bite
down on my lip to stifle the urge.

He turns back around, and I press myself as
much against the wall as I can. For a moment I'm sure he's seen
me—but then the blue light passes over my hiding spot and moves
further down the passage, and Calder's footsteps recede as he
continues on his way. As soon as the light disappears, I release
the breath I've been holding.

That was close. Too close.

My heart is thumping madly in my ears. I curl
my hands into fists and press them against my thighs.

I should be nervous after coming so close to
losing, but my body has a different reaction. Once more, I have to
fight down the urge to laugh—Calder doesn't even have to touch me
or look at me and he still manages to turn me on.

But I can't risk another close encounter like
that.
Especially
if I'm getting aroused by the thought of
him catching me. If he's using the system of passageways, then I
need to get out of here. I don't know where they lead or how far
they extend, but there's no guarantee he won't come back this way.
Better to move away from him.

I start down the hallway in the opposite
direction of Calder, back toward my room. I try to move as quietly
and as swiftly as possible. If I could hear his footsteps long
before he reached me, then my movements will echo as well.

There's only one problem: I can’t remember
where my room is.

The last time I used the passage, I left the
door open behind me. This time, I shut the door, and now I don't
know how to find it again. I stumble along, peering through every
set of spy holes I manage to spot in the darkness, but I don't know
the house well enough to get my bearings from the rooms I see on
the other side. At regular intervals I spot the palely painted door
handles, but I'm not reckless enough to open any of them without
knowing where they lead—or where Calder is.

I keep walking. Right now my priority is to
get as far away from Calder as possible, but I keep my head up and
my eyes on the walls, looking for the next door or set of spy
holes.

I'm so focused on finding my escape route
that I nearly trip down the flight of stairs that suddenly appears
in front of me. I gasp and reach out for the wall, and I manage to
catch myself on a railing before I fall and break my neck. My phone
clatters to the ground and tumbles down several steps. The sound
echoes down the length of the passageway.

I stand frozen for a long, breathless minute.
Was Calder still in the passage? Did he hear that? I strain my
ears, but I don't hear any approaching footsteps. Still, I have a
bad feeling in my gut. I need to get out of here—and fast.

I hurry down the next few steps and crouch,
fumbling around in the darkness for my phone. As soon as I find it,
I take off down the stairs, moving as quickly as I can without
risking another fall. The stairs go on much longer than I expect,
far more than a flight, but at this point there's nowhere else to
go but down.

How deep does this place go?
I
wonder.

It's not until the steps finally stop—and I
notice the sudden coolness—that I remember Calder's earlier
comments about the dungeons.

I assumed at the time he was joking, but now
that I'm here, I'm not so sure. The glow from my cell phone reveals
the edges of a door ahead of me. I take a deep breath and push it
open.