Page 122 of Disarming Caine

“Try water.”

The tap sounded again, then stopped. Footsteps approached. I braced myself.

Cold water streamed over my head and I tried to gasp, but my mouth was taped shut. My head shot up, eyes flying wide. I pulled in as much air as I could through my nose, burning as some water came with the air.

The phone was directly in front of my face, held by a woman all in white. The one from downstairs who’d told me the bathrooms were closed?

She handed the phone to the man.

Oh god. It was Olivia Scott.

And the man was the waiter with the green eyes. No, wait. I recognized him. David Scott, in a disguise I’d been too distracted to notice.

I’dbeen right all along. They were back. For me.

The duct tape muffled my scream, and I tried pulling at the tape holding my arms and legs down but couldn’t break through.

“Have a migraine. Sleeping it off,” he said in a stilted voice, typing on my phone. A gun sat on the kitchenette counter next to him.

Olivia leaned in front of me. I threw my head forward to headbutt her, but she was too far away. The room spun again, bile rising in my throat.

She grinned. “Good to see you, too, Ms. Caine.”

Chapter 42

Antonio

TheromanticeveningwithSamantha had taken a slight turn. She’d left for the bathroom over an hour ago and hadn’t come back. It was a spectacular opportunity to speak with Matt and Tyler, though. I learned so much more from them than constantly-frowning-at-me Cassandra.

“Did she make you watch Die Hard?” chuckled Matt.

“Of course!” I waved a hand. “It’s the best Christmas movie of all time, is it not?”

Tyler’s gaze went heavenward. “You are perfect for her.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. She'd likely been cornered by someone she knew, electing to sit and chat with them instead of being embarrassed by my discussion with these men. I’d done two circuits around the room looking for her but had resigned to use a text when she was nowhere to be found.

Surely she wouldn’t leave without telling me.

An odd knot twisted in my stomach. The textwasfrom Samantha, but the words didn’t feel right.

“Something wrong?” Tyler put his hand on my arm.

“She says she has a migraine.”

Matt’s brow furrowed deeper than it had been all evening. “Really?”

You’re overreacting.“I don’t recall her mentioning suffering from them. Is this common?”

“She’d deny just about any injury,” said Matt. “But no, I don’t remember her ever having one.”

Tyler nodded. “Me, either.”

I began typing a response.Come down anyway—no, not that. Maybe playful.Do you need me to come up and—no, not that either. The knot tightened. Had I pushed her too far? Did the Vegas teasing scare her off? She’d finally admitted she loved me. She wouldn’t run after that.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” I slid the phone back into my pocket and smiled politely.

“I hope she’s alright,” said Matt.