The Devil's Game (5 page)

Karina wanted nothing more than to continue sleeping when she returned to consciousness the next morning, but her aching head wouldn’t allow it any longer. She opened her eyes, trying to focus on the popcorn ceiling above her bed, except that it wasn’t popcorn. It was smooth, and pure white rather than graying. She sat up, her brain screaming, and looked around. Damien’s house. It all came back to her. Including the disaster that was last night. In a panic, she looked down to find that while the dress was gone, her underwear were still intact and she was wrapped in a robe. Nothing had happened last night, thanks to her. Karina wondered how mad Damien would be. And then she noticed the water glass and a bottle of ibuprofen on the table next to her. She opened the bottle and let two pills drop into her palm. She studied them, hesitant. But they didn’t look suspicious, and she desperately wanted the pounding in her head to go away, so she swallowed them, washing them down with half the water.

She continued to lie in bed, waiting for relief, when she heard a splash outside the balcony doors. Cautiously, she climbed out and tied the robe around her. She opened a door and stepped out onto the balcony to see Damien swimming the length of the pool. When he got to one end, he tucked under and disappeared for a split second before reappearing, swimming just as strong in the opposite direction. Karina couldn’t help but watch the impressive machine. A phone started ringing, bringing her out of her reverie, and she realized it was coming from the poolside. Damien heard it as well and swam toward it.

“Hello,” she heard him say with his back to her. He was standing in the shallower end, and she could see the muscles in his back ripple with every movement.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said. “You need to figure this out. If I do your job for you, then I have no need for you.” He paused, running a hand through his dark, wet hair. “I see. Then how about if I go take a look right now, and if I manage to find a solution before you…. Good man. Call me when it’s done.”

Damien hung up the phone and then pulled himself out of the pool to sit on the ledge. He was now facing her direction. Karina took a step back, but it only seemed to attract his attention and he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. This time, she was sure she had done something wrong, and she went back into her room. She climbed back into bed and pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, and waited. Waited for Damien to come and punish her, or have his way with her, or something. She looked at the clock and realized it had been over twenty-four hours and the man had yet to even kiss her.

But Damien never came. She thought she heard him walk by a couple times, sometimes pausing briefly at her door, but he never knocked, and she couldn’t even be sure it was him. And now she was getting hungry. Everything still ached and she dreaded going downstairs, but she couldn’t stay up here and starve. She needed a shower first—a proper one—so she went into the bathroom and found last night’s dress in the garbage. She could only imagine how much it had cost, and she had completely trashed it. Keep this up and Damien may just cut his losses and send her home.

When she walked back out into the bedroom wrapped in a towel and feeling more human, she found a tray of food on the table where the water and painkillers had been earlier. The glass, empty when she’d taken her shower, was now full again, and there was an assortment of warm pastries and fresh chilled fruit. It was delicious, and before she knew it, everything was gone. If food had been brought to her, then perhaps she wasn’t expected to leave her room today. A panic swept through her, and she rushed to the door and tried to open it. She breathed a sigh of relief when the handle turned. She wasn’t a prisoner after all. But then what was she?

Nightfall came, and Karina was still hiding out in her room. She felt the familiar butterflies, wondering if Damien would come for her tonight. She’d spent the whole afternoon reading but set her e-book aside, no longer able to concentrate. She turned off the lights and pulled the covers to her chin. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep when he came in, he would let her be. At around ten o’clock, she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Karina held her breath, but they continued right past her door to Damien’s room, and a strange thought crept into her mind. Did Damien regret bringing her here? Did he no longer want her? Not that it would bother her, she told herself as she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Karina woke feeling restless. There was no way she was going to spend another day in the room. And it occurred to her that she may owe Damien an apology, because the truth was that he had been nothing but gracious so far. Which only made the whole thing more confusing. Maybe it had never been about sex.

I want you.
His words echoed in her head. What did he want her for?

She dressed in her old, comfortable jeans but slipped on a sleeveless top from her recently acquired wardrobe. The ride to the house alone had shown Karina that the majority of what she’d brought was not exactly Miami attire.

The house was eerily still when she came down the stairs, and Karina wondered if she was the only one in it.

“Hello?” Her voice echoed into emptiness. But then she heard a noise from the kitchen. She headed in that direction and found the same woman who had delivered dinner the first night.

“Good morning,” she said to Karina.

“Um, hi. Is Damien around?”

“I’m afraid he had to fly out to LA on urgent business. He says he will try to be back by tomorrow night. You’re to make yourself at home.”

“Oh.” What was Karina supposed to do with herself for two days? “I’m sorry, I never caught your name the other night.”

“It’s Romi,” she said with a pleasant smile

“Were you the one who brought the food to my room yesterday?” Karina asked.

“Oh, no,” she said. “That was Mr. Bishop. We were asked not to disturb you yesterday.”

“Who’s we?”

Romi shrugged. “Staff in general. Security, me, whoever was around.”

“Huh,” said Karina. “This is going to sound weird, but am I allowed to leave the house?”

Romi gave her a strange expression. “I don’t see why not.”

“So it’s fine if I decide to go for a walk around the neighborhood?”

Romi’s brow furrowed even more.

Aha!
Karina knew it.

“You could, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Romi told her.

“Why not?”

“Not many people walk around the neighborhood. You’d probably end up getting stopped by security wondering who you are. And with Mr. Bishop away, we might have a harder time proving it’s okay for you to be here.”

Karina sighed.

“But a car can be arranged for you if you’d like to go somewhere else. Mr. Bishop said to make sure everything is at your disposal,” Romi explained as she walked over to a drawer and pulled out an envelope. “And he wanted me to give you this.”

She handed it to Karina, who peeked inside and saw several dollar bills. All hundreds.

“In case you needed anything,” said Romi.

And now Karina was feeling like a whore again, despite the lack of physical contact.

“Thanks,” she said, mustering a smile. “I’ll just hang out here today.”

She headed back up to her room, not really sure what she was going to do to keep busy. The sun was shining brightly outside the French doors, and she decided it would be a good day to try out the pool.

After changing and grabbing her cell phone and e-reader, she snaked through the kitchen on her way to the pool. Romi was nowhere to be found, but Karina managed to scrounge up some fruit and a bottle of water without any help.

Once she was settled on a chair, she called Ginny again and was surprised when she picked up.

“About damn time,” Ginny said. “I was starting to get worried.”

“I left you a voicemail. And why aren’t you working?”

“I am. I happened to be in the back when I heard my phone ring. I only have a couple minutes, so talk fast. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Karina said. “More than fine. Nothing has happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the man has barely touched me. Hell, I feel like I’ve barely seen him. He’s out of town now and isn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

“Weird,” said Ginny.

“I know. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense. Why would he go through all this trouble?”

“I don’t know. Maybe—shoot I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

“Okay,” Karina said and hung up. “Thanks for nothing,” she muttered to herself.

By the next day, Karina was absolutely stir-crazy and finally had Romi arrange a car for her. She just wanted to be taken to a beach, somewhere she could stretch her legs, and the driver was more than obliging, but she felt uncomfortable being driven around. And it was even more awkward to have someone waiting for her as she walked around doing nothing. In the end, she was barely gone an hour.

Romi prepared a dinner for Karina and she ate it at one of the outdoor tables, but there was still no sign of Damien when she dropped her empty plate in the sink.

That evening, she tossed and turned from too much unspent energy. Boredom was the last thing she had expected during the journey here.

By half past eleven she was lying on her side, watching the two little dots on the bedside clock flash, wondering if they had a name. Had she ever known and just forgot it along with all the other useless information she failed to recall?

There was a noise downstairs, and Karina sat up. It must be Damien, she thought. She pulled on a robe and headed out to the hall. As she approached the top of the stairs, she heard his voice.

“Thank you,” he said. “That’ll be all for tonight.”

She waited to see if he would come up the stairs, but his footsteps disappeared. Quietly, she descended and could see light spilling into the foyer from the sitting room. She heard a clink as she neared the bottom. Peeking into the room, she found Damien stretched out in a chair, his eyes closed and a tumbler in one of his hands.

He hadn’t seen her. She should climb back up to her room.

“Did I wake you?” he asked without opening his eyes.

Karina looked around, expecting it to be someone else he was talking to. But then he opened his eyes and there was no surprise when he focused on her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

“Help yourself to a night cap,” he said, gesturing to the mini bar next to him.

“You look tired,” she said as she stepped into the room.

“I just lost twenty-five million dollars on a deal that fell through.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I’ll make it up. But I hate wasting my time on something that was never going to happen.”

“Oh.”

“So are you going to have one?” he asked.

“Um, sure.”

She made her way to the bar, and as she walked past Damien, she felt something brush her hand. She looked down just in time to see his hand lay back down on the arm of the chair, and his eyes were closed again.

Her hand shook as she pulled the top off a decanter—that was the clink she heard—and poured herself a glass of something. She held the glass to her lips, thinking of his fingers grazing her. It was the simplest touch, but it was enough to let loose the butterflies. Yet there was no sick feeling this time.

She gulped the warm liquor in one take, trying to quell the damn winged creatures.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot my two-hundred-dollar cognac.”

She glanced at him to see that his eyes were open again, watching her.

“Sorry,” she said, putting the glass down and moving over to the couch across from him. She settled into the corner of it, finding it to be almost as comfortable as her bed upstairs. “In all fairness though, it’s not like you can’t afford a hundred more bottles.”

“True,” he sighed. “But I buy it to enjoy, to savor. Not to kill brain cells in the quickest manner. And you might not want a repeat of your first night here.”

Karina felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Damien was still watching her, and she forced herself to look at something else.

“So is the piano here just for show, or can you actually play it?”

He set his tumbler down and pushed himself up out of the chair. There was a cover over the keys that he lifted and slid back before sitting on the bench.

“Any special requests?” he asked.

“Impress me.”

His fingers did a little dance over the keys, warming up, and then he started playing a slow, haunting tune.

“Mmm…. Moonlight Sonata,” she said, curling into a ball. “I’ve always loved that song, even though it sounds so sad.”

“You know your Beethoven.”

She crinkled her nose. “Any kid that did junior high band or orchestra knows Moonlight Sonata.”

“And were you in band or orchestra?”

“I was,” she said, closing her eyes. The cognac and piano were working together to finally relax her.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You played the clarinet.”

“The cello.”