Page 100 of When He Plays

“Excuse me?” She turned around, her gaze searching the lobby.

“I would rather have you. You intrigue me.”

Ice poured through her veins. “Who is this?”

Laughter. “Don’t you know? And here I thought you came to town just because you wanted to meet me.”

Her hand waved frantically toward Logan.

He began hurrying toward her.

“She isn’t a challenge. I don’t think she’ll last long. Certainly not the full week like the others.”

It’s him. It. Is. Him. “You want a challenge? Then switch me for Harper. Tell me when and where, and I’ll trade myself for her in an instant.” Done.

Logan had reached her side. He sucked in a deep breath, and Charlotte knew he’d overheard her words. “No.” Snarled. Logan shook his head, hard. “You are not!”

But laughter filled the line. “A trade. That is the plan.”

“Do not hurt Harper!” Charlotte’s frantic order. Or plea. Maybe both. “Do not⁠—”

“Talk soon.”

The line went dead.

Her gaze jumped to Logan. Then to the concierge—to Kathleen.

“Who was that, Charlotte?” Logan asked her but the grim tone of his voice told her that he was fully aware of the caller’s identity.

It was him, Logan. It was the perp we’re after. “He has Harper.” Her spine straightened. “It was him.”

Logan took a hard step toward a watchful Kathleen. “Was the call in-house?”

Kathleen’s wide-eyed stare bobbed between Logan and Charlotte. “What is happening right now? Should I get the marshal?”

“Was the call in-house?” Logan repeated in a low, lethal tone. “I know how this shit works. If the call came from somewhere else in this hotel—one of the rooms—then you know which room. I want to know that room, and I want to know right the hell now.”

Kathleen shuffled closer. She peered down at the phone on her desk.

“You know who I am,” Logan spoke through gritted teeth. “Do you want me as a friend or as an enemy? You got the room number when the call came in. Tell it to me.”

“Room 1408,” Kathleen breathed.

Charlotte immediately whirled and started to run toward⁠—

Logan looped an arm around her stomach and hauled her right back against him. “Who is staying in that room? Kathleen, who is staying there?”

Charlotte twisted in his grip. “Don’t make me hurt you.” If necessary to get out of his hold, she’d do it. “I have to help Harper! I have to stop him!”

Kathleen rushed around her desk. Sort of fell into her chair. Then her fingers were flying over the keyboard. “Pierre Dubois,” she spoke quickly. “It’s his room!”

But Pierre was being escorted out of the hotel by Sebastian right at that very moment. Pierre wasn’t the one who’d just made that phone call. Impossible.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Logan vowed in Charlotte’s ear. He let her go, but raced with her across the lobby.

Jamar stopped faking interest in the painting. He bounded onto the elevator with them.

“What’s happening?’ Jamar demanded.