Me: How’s the rest of your night looking? Too busy for all this crazy?
Baz: I guess we’ll find out. Dan will bring you up to the penthouse floor when you’re ready.
Me: I’m ready.
I leave it at that and wait for Dan to walk me up to the penthouse floor of the resort. Baz’s quarters. This is my chance to redeem myself. I can’t fuck this up. Not again.
When the knock sounds on the other side of the door, I gulp a lungful of air and roll my shoulders back, summoning the courage to be someone else tonight. Someone just like Scarlett. A vixen who doesn’t let anyone walk all over her. Someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to get the truth. No matter the consequences.
Dan, as Baz mentioned his name was, is completely mute, making the walk to the elevator uncomfortably silent. He doesn’t bat an eye at the fact he’s delivering a woman straight to Baz’s floor in the middle of the night. The man hardly looks at me at all. He’s the vision of a trained professional.
It makes me wonder how many women he’s escorted to Baz’s penthouse in the middle of the night. Do they frequent the resort? How many times a week does he do this? Is Dan so desensitized that he doesn’t even care who his employer brings up anymore?
We step into the elevator bank, and I stick to the left side. Keeping an eye on Dan, I watch as he reaches into his pocket and slides the fob card over the black square on the panel labeled “PH” before the elevator starts to rise. I silently take note. I guess the only way onto Baz’s floor is with a special fob.
As we ride in silence, I angle my body toward the man and watch him subtly out of the corner of my eye. He’s older but not the elderly kind of old. More like in his late fifties. He has salt and pepper hair, and even for an older man, his physique is still quite athlectic. He’s a man of few words, that much is obvious, but as I stare at him, I wonder how long he’s known Baz and what he knows about him.
Is he privy to all their secrets? Does he know who Baz and his friends really are?
“Have you been working with Mr. King for a while?”
Dan nods. “Years.”
I purse my lips at his brusque answer. It doesn’t leave any room for me to question him, which is probably what he wants. Ever the freaking professional.
“Does he stay here often?” I try for another line of questioning. If I can sneak around the hotel and get intel without Baz around, that’d be great. It’s obvious he has his own place, but he also has a penthouse floor here. Does he only stay at the resort when he works late? Or is the penthouse more of a bachelor pad for him where he brings his rendezvous and bedmates?
At my question, Dan pivots toward me, giving me his full frame as he looks at me. I catch a flash of annoyance in his eyes. He’s probably wondering why I’d ask a question like that. He’s probably also trying to figure out if it’s in his best interest to answer said question. Either Baz is extremely secretive, or Dan is loyal to a fault.
To put him at ease, I jump in to add, “I just mean, I’ve seen his place, so I guess I was wondering if he spends most of his time here at the resort or in his own home. Personally, I’d want to go to my own home each night, but I guess if I was working late, as I’m sure he does, having a penthouse floor would come in handy.”
Dan raises a brow at me. “What exactly is your question, Ms. Williams?”
Heat rises to my cheeks from embarrassment. “Guess I’m not really asking anything at all,” I mumble.
We both respectively turn back to face the mirror paneled elevator doors, and I watch the numbers slowly climb. We still have another six floors to go.
“He’s a busy man, Mr. Kingston, so he often spends most of his time in his office or the penthouse. His home is more of a luxury to him if anything.”
Surprised by his willingness to speak, I turn toward Dan with a grateful smile on my face.
“I thought as much.”
I clasp my hands in front of me and twiddle my thumbs while my brain runs a million miles a second. Baz has a penthouse floor. On top of that, he has an office here. This gives me the opportunity to check two spaces for any clues into his past. The only problem I’m having is Baz. If his home in the hills is more of a luxury to him, that would mean he spends most of his time here. That would make it nearly impossible to sneak around without him being privy.
I’m not even sure what I’m looking for at this point. Just anything that links them, any of them, to the death of my sister. Who knows, maybe they recorded it? Maybe they hid the murder weapon in plain sight? What did they do with their clothes from that night? Surely, they didn’t keep the same clothes they murdered my sister in.
Or maybe they did. I read once about serial killers taking souvenirs. Is that what they did, too?
A soft chime startles me out of my thoughts just as the elevator doors slide open, and there, leaning against the opposite wall with a casual cavalier pose is the man in question. Baz King. He has one leg propped up behind him and both hands tucked in his pockets as his eyes connect with mine. I’m impetuously struck immobile by my surprise, unable to move.
Why is he so damn handsome?
Baz’s gaze trails down my body in the dress. It’s the same one I had on earlier, but Baz watches me with such intense heat, it’s like it’s the first time he’s seeing me. His eyes devour every inch of my exposed skin. Like lasers, they sear into me, incinerating my flesh. The way he’s lighting me on fire makes it seem as if he’s the sun, and because no matter what happens, I know I’ll always be drawn to this man, that makes me Icarus. I’ll always fly too close to the sun, even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I know it will kill me.
And it will.
That, I’m sure of.
“Heading back down?”
“What?”
That smirk he’s been trying to hold in breaks free when he says, “You’re still in the elevator. Having second thoughts?”
I jolt, looking around me, and sure enough, I’m still inside the elevator. Dan’s hand blocking the sensor is the only thing keeping the doors open. I step out, slowly closing the distance between us. I can faintly hear the sound of the doors sliding closed, then the mechanics kicking in as it glides back down.
Keep it together, Kenz. Remember what you’re here for.
Plastering on a sweet, saccharine smile for his benefit, I shrug noncommittally. “Guess I was giving you a chance to turn back around.”
Baz’s smirk turns into a full-on smile. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it, and the sight of it has my façade slipping just a bit. It’s blinding. He’s beautifully blinding. Every single part of him.
I thought I’d seen Baz smile before. Smirk? Always. But smile? Never like this.
Taking a step toward me, he raises his hand to the delicate skin of my neck and traces tantalizing little circles with his fingers. I suck in a sharp breath when the roughened pad of his thumb trails down my throat, hovering just above my cleavage. My chest is heaving. It’s getting harder and harder to swallow and breathe.
A tremor travels down my spine when he asks, “And why would I do that?”
My throat feels like sandpaper when I push the words past my tingling lips. “Because I’m trouble.”
“Oh, Mackenzie,” Baz whispers, stepping into me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he tugs my body until my front is flush against his. I feel every hard plane. I feel each corded slab of muscle. His heat engulfs me, threatening to pull me under. He leans down, placing his lips next to my ear. “I knew you were trouble the second I laid eyes on you.”