Where the hell was she? She’d said she intended to go to the gym. He’d go there first. If anything had happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
***
The guards scarcely paid her any attention. There were two of them and they resembled their clones who worked in the gym. They argued about who would take their lunch break first. Evidently, it was chocolate penis day, as well as clay pigeon shooting day, and the chef’s recipe for the truffle filling was worth fighting for the privilege.
“Toss a coin,” one said, his brawny arms and shoulders almost bursting from his blue shirt.
“Heads,” the second one called. He’d shaved his head and his scalp glowed in the artificial light. The coin glinted as it tumbled to the top of the desk. “Yes. Yes!”
Baldy left, jubilant in his victory and whistling.
“Bastard,” Brawny muttered and clamped a pair of earphones over his ears.
Emma stared at him in disfavor. Why did he bother? She could hear his loud, discordant rock from where she was sitting. She continued to eye him while stealthily wriggling her hands and fingers in an attempt to loosen her bonds.
Half an hour passed, interspersed only by the pop and crack and cheers from the shooters and their audience. Baldy returned, brandishing a chocolate penis.
“There had better be some left,” Brawny said in a testy tone and bolted out the door.
Emma continued to work toward freedom, her gaze on her minder. Baldy swiped his tongue across the tip of his chocolate cock and moaned, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as he savored his dessert.
Good grief. He was taking eating to a new level. She stared, not wanting to watch but mesmerized by his performance.
His groan was an animal grunt, and when he pulled the penis from his mouth, she saw he’d nibbled off the tip. A trickle of the filling dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
Eew. She shuddered and looked away. That was so not sexy.
Without warning the rope binding her hands loosened—just a fraction. Victorious, she doubled her efforts and five minutes later, one hand slid free. She drew her legs up in a stealthy fashion and unfastened the rope around her ankles.
What she needed now was a weapon.
Carefully, she scanned her surroundings. There was no way she could creep out, not with penis-sucking Baldy right near the door. But he was engrossed…
Her gaze lit on a large rock. A doorstop—something to prop open the entrance if they were bringing in or taking out new supplies. She glanced from the rock to the man’s head. An excellent weapon—if she could grab it before Baldy discovered she’d freed herself.
He continued sucking on the penis. Her lips curled in distaste while she worked on freeing her other hand. Then she blinked in astonishment. Even better! Baldy was nodding off.
She scanned the walls, the furniture and contents. Perhaps she should look in one of the brown boxes? A snore erupted from Baldy and a chocolate-colored dribble ran from the corner of his mouth. Holding her breath, she tugged open the closest box. It was full of foil packs containing pills. Emma slipped one inside her shorts pocket. A snort sounded. She froze, but when she spun to check, he was still asleep.
With her pulse racing, she stood and glided smoothly forward to scoop up the rock. It was heavier than it looked. And in truth, she wasn’t sure she could hit a sleeping Baldy over the head. As she edged closer, she saw dark chocolate smeared his cheek. That settled it—she couldn’t hit a man who resembled a defenseless kid.
Emma took another two steps and reached for the door, still holding the rock. Her free hand closed around the brass handle and twisted. The door squeaked.
Baldy jerked awake. “What?”
Emma threw the rock at him and ripped open the door. Baldy cursed. She heard a crash but didn’t stop to check the damage. Instead, she sped to the main corridor and paused to peek around the corner. Clear. She took off at a sprint in the opposite direction to the restaurant.
Jack.
She had to find Jack.
***
Jack scanned the bodies in the gym, alarm growing. Emma wasn’t here. He couldn’t smell the girly floral soap she used and he sure as hell couldn’t see her. He’d already checked the clay pigeon shooting area, but none of her friends had seen her, and she wasn’t one of those shooting.
He stalked through the restaurant, searching faces, his gut churning insistently the entire time. If anything had happened to her…
Pushing past the queue of party people at the buffet, he ignored the comments about rudeness. She had to be somewhere. Outside, he checked the bar and around the pool. Down on the beach. Worry creased his brow while the pull of the blue moon created havoc with his body, his control.
Every one of his bones ached as if he had a fever and sweat glued his shirt to his chest. He forced himself to stagger along the beach, to push past the pain that made him shiver and shake.