Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

was charming to see you all again, but I’m afraid I have places to be. I am positively sure that we will run into each other again, very soon.”
    I allowed myself a last look at each of them, my eyes lingering on Darren. He hadn’t said a single word, but then he didn’t need to. The look on his face—in his eyes—spoke volumes, the intensity only increasing when I caught his gaze and held it levelly.
    I’d been afraid that this exact look would make me cringe away and want to run scared, but while part of me wanted to curl up in a corner and scream, I found it surprisingly easy to remain strong and confident in front of him. After all, I didn’t need to play the victim here, caught in the headlights. I’d been the one to almost bring him down, equalizing the playing field between us.
    And I was the one who got away—and continued to elude him as I turned to go and walked toward the front exit, my spine straight, my shoulders relaxed, feeling his eyes like a white-hot laser beam boring into the back of my skull.
    Halfway across the room, I felt my nerves snap like that thick steel cable under too much tension, making it hard not to stumble and fall down onto my knees. But I forced myself to keep walking, not to betray an ounce of my distress in the lines of my body. It was impossible to maintain a pleasant smile so I let my features even out, not giving a shit about the cold, hard mask that my face turned into. I knew exactly how I looked—it was that very face that stared back at me every time I glanced into a mirror. Eyes hard but lifeless; lips pressed together, not a hint of an alluring curve left. Fifteen years of my life I had devoted to always cultivating an open, approachable look, and a week in Darren’s basement had been enough to destroy all my efforts for good.
    Six months I’d spent running, but the time for hiding was over.
    The bitch is back, baby, and she has come to bring you down.

Chapter 2

    I somehow made it out of the ballroom and across the sprawling foyer. If my security detail had chosen that moment to accost me, I likely wouldn’t have been able to evade them. But the only one of them that I saw was Michaels where he hovered next to his limousine across the street.
    I ignored him, and instead walked straight up to the other—much less low-cost—black limousine that was waiting for me right at the bottom of the stairs, the valet already holding the door for me.
    “Good evening, Ms. Thompson,” he wished me as he closed the door, and the chauffeur pulled away not a second later. There was no need to tell him where we were going—I’d made sure to arrange everything ahead of time, paying extra for effortless, smooth service. It didn’t go unnoticed that I’d now switched to the other side—for years it had been my job to make sure that my clients felt like everything around them was one oiled machine running at top performance—and as frayed as my nerves were once again, I truly appreciated it.
    I briefly checked my phone, but of course there were no calls. No one had this number except for the one person I had contacted to arrange all this, and there was no need for him to get back to me now that the car had picked me up. It was still a relief to me that—if only for a few minutes—I’d managed to shake my tail. And considering that from now on there would be two parties invested in keeping tabs on me at all times, I cherished my momentary freedom.
    I had no illusions that, within the hour, Darren would set things in motion to have someone watch me. I didn’t even try to make him work for it; it would be easy to ask the valet about the limousine that had picked me up or get the feed from the security cameras. The number plate would lead to the limousine service, who would tell him where they had dropped me off. And because I had no reason in the world not to set myself up on a silver platter, I’d made sure to use my full name when I’d made reservations at the Peninsula