Unwanted Passion (Unlucky Series #2)

So, I’m in my real clothes. In my room. Alone. Now what?

She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. It was time to keep things in perspective. So the cops were watching. It wasn’t the first time the house had been infiltrated, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. From the sound of it, this time they had a man inside. That had happened before, too; servants came and went. Sometimes they came wired for sound. Sometimes they went with a little evidence—but never more than a good high-priced lawyer could refute.

The only thing that made any of this different was that Luke was Benny’s prisoner. That was a federal charge, and one that he could make stick. But the problem was, Benny hadn’t been the one to kidnap him. David had. Benny was just holding onto the trophy David had already brought home. He could make that stick, too. That meant that, if caught, David was going away for years unless Luke lied under oath to save him, and Luke had no reason to want to save David.

And if he cared about me?

But the problem was, he didn’t. He’d made that quite clear. He’d insulted her from the moment he’d first seen her that morning, making that crack about her being a princess, and saying all that about her family. Okay, so maybe there was some justification for all of that. He was a prisoner in their house, after all. It was natural for him to be having a snit about that.

Still. That meant that he wasn’t in any kind of mood to debate the innocence of the man who had kidnapped him. And the fact was, David had been the one to kidnap him.

Maybe I can talk to him. Maybe I can get him to see reason... or at least do me a big favor. If he can say it was Benny’s boys who came and got him...

Like that was going to work.

She flopped back on the blanket and stared up at the ceiling. He needed that damn USB stick. What the hell was on that thing anyway? Dani hadn’t seen it since she’d slipped it into her back pocket. Luke seemed to think that it was somewhere accessible, which would put it in the house somewhere, as there was no other place he could possibly get it.

Not that he was able to get at anything outside his room right now.

So where was it? He’d been dragged in through the front door. That hadn’t left a whole lot of places he could have stashed the thing. He also hadn’t had a whole lot of freedom of movement. She chewed her thumbnail as she stared up at the light fixture, trying to see faces in the mottled shade like she had as a child. She used to think of those faces as friendly creatures there to help her. Right now the streaks on the frosted glass only seemed to form question marks, giving her no help at all.

Well, sitting in her room staring at the ceiling wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Even in her comfortable clothing she was still a prisoner, and on the other end of the world from Luke. She needed to talk to him; she needed... him. That was it. It seemed rather obvious now, but it hit her like a flash. She needed him. What fiancée didn’t need time alone with her betrothed? If Benny wanted a wedding with a blushing bride and handsome groom, then he’d have one. Only, there had to be some reason to blush. What was it he’d said back at the banquet hall? Something about them needing time together? Maybe he’d been on the same wavelength, though for different reasons. That meant they might allow her some leniency. She only needed to push a little and see what she could get away with.

Of course, that still left the small difficulty of Luke hating her guts. It was a small obstacle, but one that needed to be addressed. There was no guarantee that, even if she could get to his room, he wouldn’t just slam the door in her face.

Well, she wasn’t going there to jump him, that was just the cover story. She was going to his room to talk to him. Maybe to even work out a deal with him, if he would let David off the hook.

And get him out of the house. Every day he’s here puts him in that much more danger. Not that I know how to do that just yet, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right?

Well, even if she couldn’t get him out of the house just yet, she should be able to get herself into his room. She thought for a moment and stood. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. She looked competent.

She shook her head. It was the exact wrong look for what she needed.

With great distaste, she again stripped and reached for the cast-off dress. She had taken such comfort in her boots and the thick, warm socks, and now she had to trade them for outrageously high heels that no one who wasn’t trained in acrobatics should even attempt to wear. She made a face as she slipped each shoe on each foot.

She looked at the mirror again, finger-combing her hair so that it fell in a sexy and somewhat tousled cascade over one shoulder. Now she looked... less likely to kick someone’s ass.

This so isn’t me.

Part of her just wanted to go all Rambo and beat the crap out of every one of Benny’s men, and let the cops sort the bodies. But however good she was, she was only a single person against how many men Benny had working for him? Not to forget to add in taking over David’s boys and whoever her father had left behind.

Okay, so we save that for Plan B.

Which left Project Airhead on the table. Because, of course, no one expects the idiot to have a plan, much less any ability to carry it out.

So I’m a bubble-head. I can do that, too. She plastered a smile on her face and let her eyes lose focus a little. Then she lifted her eyebrows, giving her a happy, but perpetually confused sort of look.

She only stumbled once on a stupid heel as she traipsed across carpeting way too plush for stiletto heels, and knocked on the door. The guard on the other side didn’t respond, so she tried again.

It was the very guard she’d hoped for. He’d been the one who’d escorted her to her room in the first place, but since they often changed posts she hadn’t been counting on it still being him. Thanking her lucky stars for the first break she’d had in days she gave him a wide-eyed look, letting her lips part naturally, her tongue darting out to wet the lower lip.

The guard was young, the youngest of them that she’d seen. He looked like he was rather full of himself and walked with a bit of a swagger. Promoted too soon, she thought with contempt, having served with his type before. Needs the stuffing knocked out of him.

Her foot twitched. Those pointy toes would go a long way toward educating the lad.

“Are you knocking to leave a room?” the guard asked, amused with himself, already laughing at his own joke.

Dani widened her eyes, and though she was dying inside of embarrassment and shame, she pulled out a little-girl voice. “Can I go to the li-berry? I want to find a book. I’m getting so bored in here.”

“You want a book?” The question was a loaded one; he could barely keep the sneer from his voice. He stroked what would have been a mustache, if he’d had the ability to grow hair on his upper lip.

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