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“Hello? Are you hiding?” He asked again. As he moved through the penthouse, the smile dropped from his mouth.
She wasn’t there.
She was gone.
It didn’t make sense. He’d felt the connection. He knew she’d felt it too. He swore in Spanish as he moved back to the entrance way.
It was then that he saw it. Like Cinderella’s glass slipper, her shimmery purse sat, propped against the mantle. And, just as with Cinderella, he knew it would contain all the answers he sought.
He opened it without hesitation, smiling when he saw that it was effectively just a vessel for makeup. Concealer, blush, lipstick. Condoms! His laugh only deepened, at this evidence of her own attitude to safe sex. He liked a woman who was prepared.
A fifty-pound note was pressed to the back of the purse, and a mobile phone that appeared to have run out of battery was heavy in the centre. No identification whatsoever. He dressed with haste, and tucked the purse into his jacket pocket.
The lift took a moment to arrive, and each delay only added to his impatience. Finally, though, the doors pinged open.
The band had started, and the lights had been dimmed. The dancing portion of the fundraiser was in full swing. His eyes scanned the room, and located her quickly enough. It was as if she’d left a tracking scent on him, making her easy to isolate in the group.
She was locked in conversation with a woman. Two men looked on, one with an unmistakably proprietorial air.
Curious, he simply reclined, appearing indolent and at ease, while inside, he was wound tighter than a spring.
“What do you mean?” Juanita demanded, leaning forward. Her brown eyes were enormous in her heart-shaped face. “Gael is here?”
“Shhh,” Carrie shook her head, her fingers fumbling before her. She recognised the nervous gesture and stopped it almost at once. She was not that girl anymore. “Yes. I have to go.”
“But… what happened?”
“I can’t talk about it now,” she whispered desperately. “Can you lend me some money for a cab?”
“No, I’ll come with you. You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Carrie demurred, wanting only to be alone. “I will be, anyway. I just want to get home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Can you just make something up? Tell Max I have a headache or whatever?”
“Of course.” Juanita kissed her best friend on the cheek then handed her a hundred-pound note. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
Carrie nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Winnie.”
She kept her head down as she weaved back through the ballroom. It felt hot and cloying, and she needed to get out. She was relieved when she made it back into the relative freedom of the foyer, but she knew she wasn’t home yet.
Her heels made a clicking sound as she strode swiftly across the tiled floor.
“Going somewhere, Cinderella?”
His voice was unmistakable.
So too was the effect it had on her body. Goosebumps covered her exposed flesh as she turned slowly to face him. She blanked the guilt out of her expression with effort.
His eyes were loaded with a silent challenge. “You forgot this.”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes and moved to take it from him, but Gael held the s
himmering purse high above his head. When Carrie reached for it, he snaked an arm around her waist, holding her to his body.
His dark eyes bore accusingly into her soul. “Do you make a habit of this type of thing?”
