Page 27

Tonight, all I see is another clock counting down. We’re running out of time.

* * *

The doctor, a pediatrician with a profitable side-job being on-call for me, is brought to my rooms to tell me she’s awake.

I wait ten more minutes anyway, knowing that drugs like what she was injected with can often lead to fuzzy memories. When Matilda Pierce thinks of this night, of this offer, I don’t want her to have any questions of just who she’s dealing with.

When I open the door, she’s already sitting upright on the bed. Good. An empty plastic cup, recently drained of water, is leaving a ring of moisture on the nightstand.

Her eyes find mine right away. The blue of them is cloudy, stormy, and her gaze is a bit unfocused—but that frown tells me everything.

“You.”

“Good evening, Matilda.”

“You drugged me.”

“I did.”

Her expression hardens.

“You’re insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

I close the door behind me but don’t step farther into the room. Two cameras watch from opposite corners, their tiny indicator lights glowing red.

She notices them.

“You’re in a secure building,” I say evenly. “Every entrance is guarded. This room is monitored twenty-four hours a day by both my security team and myself.”

Her gaze flicks back to me, a sneer on her lips. “So you are a pervert, then. I should’ve known from the cuffs.”

I almost laugh, but manage to hold it back. She’s not shying away from acknowledging that we spent a feral night together; that’s good. I want a defense lawyer who bites, not barks.

Slipping her cell phone out of my pocket, I toss it onto the bed. It lands soundlessly on the thick white duvet, the screen lighting up. Matilda looks up at me with a narrow, distrustful gaze.

“It’s monitored. You don’t seem like the kind of woman to try anything stupid. You know where we are?”

“You just told me I’m in a locked, secure building. How the hell would I know where I am?”

“Tsk, tsk. You’re smarter than that. Not long out of law school and already being groomed for partnership.” The blue in her eyes sharpens as she realizes how much information I have on her. “Guess again, Matilda. You know where we are.”

“Lake Placid.”

It’s a statement, but her brow furrows. I nod.

“Yes. I live here. The Pandora is just one hotel in my portfolio. Your things.”

I gesture to a stylish duffle bag, packed while she’d been draped across her living room couch, giving me time to prowl through her life. Oh, the things I found.

Delicious and tempting. Black, lacy things that I stuffed into the bag with comfortable clothes, a few personal belongings.

“My laptop?”

“Mmm. Again, monitored. A woman like you can’t disappear, but if you try to sound the alarm, if you so much as use a phrase I or my team think strange, you’ll be deeper in the woods than you’ve ever been before. And not breathing.”

She’s silent for a moment, considering me. Her clothes are rumpled, makeup smudged beneath her eyes. When I leave, she’ll likely stalk over to the en-suite where we’ve removed anything sharp or that can be used as a weapon.