Not-So-Secret

Chapter seven

James walked to her side, holding her overnight bag.

She hadn't brought much with her. Makeup, pictures, vitamins. Everything else would be provided for, down to her bra and panties. Oh, God, she couldn't do it.

She had to. Shaun was up there, scared to death, wanting his mommy.

They'd never been apart this long. She had to see him - now.

"Come on," James said, his hand on the small of her back.

The contact made her shiver as it always had. Her foolish body didn't know any better, but it would learn.

She stepped forward quickly, breaking the contact. She wanted nothing to do with him.

He led her inside to the atrium, twenty stories high, capped by a blanket of mirrors and hanging crystal in a flash of glitter. The sounds of the casino was muted here.

In fact, one of the conditions for having slots in this hotel was that there were no bells and whistles. People threw away their money quietly in Xanadu.

They walked past gardens, gazebos, pergolas lush with foliage. It took a staff of more than a hundred people to maintain the gardens in Xanadu and in all the time she'd spend here she'd never once seen a brown leaf.

The smell of the place brought back to much. Of course, there were no unpleasant odours. The air, along with everything else, was strictly controlled, manipulated. there were no clocks anywhere, the sky inside was always blue in perpetual daylight. There was no breach of the fantasy where any guest might catch an inadvertent glimpse.

She looked up as they crossed to the private elevators, built slightly behind the public facilities and saw the hundreds of smoky-glass domes in the ceiling and along the walls. Domes that hid security cameras. No hotel was more carefully monitored. The security staff outnumbered the garden staff.

James called for an elevator. Once they were inside, he slipped a key into the slot that would allow them passage to the upper floors, to the suites for the whales and Jones's enclave. It felt like forever to climb the forty-one stories. All she could think of was holding Shaun. Keeping him safe.

When they finally reached the penthouse, James walked with her down the hallway, her boots sinking into the thick pile of the burgundy carpet. The theme continued even here in the lofty heights, with Chinese and Mongol influences in the house wall sconces, the paintings and the wallpaper. She'd been awed the first time Jones had brought her here. No detail left unattended, everything had a beauty and a serenity meant to soothe and to comfort. It didn't work on her. All she could think about was the fact that she'd need a key to get into any of the elevators on this floor. A key he'd never give her.

They stopped at the double doors to Jones's suite. It was of course, the most extravagant room in the hotel. More than fifteen-thousand square feet, it was larger that a lot of motels on the side streets of the city and more decadent than a rock star's dreams.

James knocked and the door opened. A butler she didn't recognize bowed slightly, took her bag from James, then led them into the dragon's lair.

Marble floors, glass walls, Picasso's, Renoirs, antiques; there wasn't an inch of the suite that wasn't detailed and designed to be the best of the best. Six bedrooms, twelve baths, a private swimming pool, spa, massage room, grand piano, private dining room and kitchen. It made her physically ill.

But she kept her expression neutral as they neared the master bedroom. He was going to test her punish her. It would be horrible, but she could take it. She had to take it.

Shaun.

At the door, the butler knocked, then she heard Jones's voice. She gripped her purse, stood straight, focused. Feeling James beside her should have been a comfort, damn it.

The butler led them inside and then she saw him. Shaun. Sitting on the lap of the man who would own her. Jones's hair, thick and shockingly white, was immaculate, as was the suit on his tall, muscular frame. A devilishly handsome man, he hid his wickedness behind hypnotically beautiful blue eyes.

"Mommy!"

She tore her gaze from Jones and hurried forward, her anxiety to hold her child stronger than any fear. Shaun squirmed, trying to escape. When he couldn't, he cried, screamed, his panic loud and shrill in the cavernous room.

She reached the bedside chair where Jones held her son. Just as she was about to fall to her knees and beg, Shaun escaped. He leaped into her arms where she hugged him tight, her tears falling unheeded, his tears fueling her hatred drop by drop.

She looked up briefly, long enough to see that Jones was watching her intently, so she turned. But then she could see James. Was that shock on his face? Surprise? Had he really not known that Jones had kidnapped her baby?

Their baby?