Page 13 of Stolen Temptation

Or maybe it’s just easier to hope for a happily ever after than it is to accept my sad reality.

An image of that mysterious man’s face appears in my mind. He stood off to the side, and unlike the rest of the leering masses, his gaze didn’t make my skin crawl. I’d say it’s because he’s so gorgeous, but I don’t think that’s it. Plenty of other handsome men dotted the crowd, but their attention left me nauseous. Not his.

No, his attention left me feeling like I’d just experienced an electric shock. The sensation reminded me of one of the romance novels my mom used to read. Those same books still sit on the shelves in my suite of rooms at home, and I’ve read each one at least once. Those stories help me feel closer to her.

I noticed the man before he spotted me, probably because I got the sense that he wants to be here about as much as I do. Maybe if we’d met like normal people, at a coffee shop or bar somewhere, we would have struck up a conversation, possibly even gone out to dinner or a movie.

I must be one of the only women my age in this entire country who’s never been out on a single date.

I turn to Mae. “Do you have the bag?”

She nods before retrieving the bag containing a change of clothes from its hiding spot beneath the sofa.

We only had three days to devise an escape plan, and we spent most of that time lamenting the fact that escape also means separation.

For good.

We’re both leaving the only home we know, and we can’t stay together.

Once Leo realizes I’m gone, he’ll hunt for Mae first. He knows we’re inseparable. He’ll instantly realize that she had something to do with my disappearance, and he won’t ask any questions. Leo’s not the type.

He’ll kill Mae if she stays. I can’t let that happen. And this way, if I’m found, she’ll hopefully still be safe.

While my mother was alive, she kept a small stash of money with her in case of a rainy day, safely hidden in a hollowed out copy of her favorite historical romance. Deep down in her heart, she knew that one day I’d have to run and would need her help.

I forced Mae to take the largest share. She’ll need to buy a plane ticket back to France. I figured her best bet would be to return to a country where she has friends and family to keep her safe. Somewhere Leo De Luca is unknown.

I kept a little under fifteen-hundred dollars for myself. I’ll need it to get to wherever I’m going. Not that I have any idea how to survive on my own out in the wild. I’ve never been alonebefore, and the idea of all that freedom both exhilarates and terrifies me.

My plan is to hop on a train at Grand Central Station. One headed as far from here as possible.

Maybe I’ll travel west and keep moving until I hit San Francisco. Maybe from there, I’ll hop a flight to Hawaii or Guam. Somewhere without a white winter.

Strangely, just thinking of warmth fills me with a bit more strength.

I can do this.

I stand from the vanity, and Mae unzips my dress. Only shaking a little, I pull on the spare clothes. We thought about disguising me as a member of the waitstaff or as a caterer, but all the people working those positions are male.

The only women employed at Leo’s auction besides the stagehands are the half-naked ladies showing off the wares on stage or serving drinks in the VIP lounge, where Leo is sure to be watching.

Dressing like a stagehand is the safest way to fit in. Black clothes. Dark sneakers. Ass covered.

Once I’m dressed, Mae and I face each other. My chest tightens. These are our last few moments together. As soon as she steps out that door, she’s gone forever.

And so am I.

I throw my arms around her and speak through the lump in my throat. “I’m going to miss you.”

“You have always been my darling.” Her words sink into my bones like water through sand as she squeezes me. “You always will be.”

“I’ll never forget you.”

She sniffles. “I’ll never forget you either.”

There’s nothing else to say. Nothing that won’t have us bursting into tears, at least. And we don’t have time for that. Not with our survival on the line.

“Go,” I mouth to her.