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The ballroom was where the preamble to the orgy would take place. Lindsey’s team would decorate it with sumptuous pillows and a large silk draping to mimic a tent. They’d even bring in the supply of sand they had, creating a mini desert landscape according to the layout in the engagement details. Many of the guests would remain below for the orgy, but a few others would go up to the bedrooms, where more private sexual encounters would take place.
“Let’s look at the foliage,” Lindsey told the group, and waved them to follow her around the stairs to the ballroom.
Nita waved at Lindsey, then pointed to the door. Lindsey nodded and disappeared down the hall, the staff following her.
Outside, Nita breathed in the chill air.
The only thing left for her morning was to check in with Ryder about the physical security and whether his team would be on site in time. She could probably do that when she was back at her office at the manor. Working from there, she could keep her distance from him and protect herself from…
What?she asked herself, rolling her paperwork into a funnel as she slid into the cart. She needed to shake that nervous feeling. She’d gotten a little too close, sure, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t fix.
I just need to breathe, she thought, tucking the funnel of paper under her leg. She needed to find her old balance. That’s what would keep her from getting any more addicted to screwing Ryder.
That’s what the fear was. That one word; addicted. Something she’d promised herself she’d never let happen again.
She leaned against the seat, her thoughts consumed by the intimate night she had shared with Ryder. The vulnerability and trust she had experienced still lingered, and she replayed their conversations in her mind.
Awe was the only way she could describe his confession about his son and what had happened. The way the words had caught in his throat, as if he’d had to push them through a cinched-down pipe, had made her wonder if he’d ever said any of that out loud before. And as horrible as that incident was, bearing witness to him telling it had set off alarm bells in her mind.
Too much. Feeling the vulnerability in him at that moment had been too much for her, and her mind had spun in a flurry to keep it at bay.
“Okay,” she said out loud, and sighed when she realized she gripped the cart’s wheel with white knuckles, her entire body tense.
Muscle by muscle, she relaxed. There. She’d thought about it, and now she could move on. To be safe, she’d just avoid seeing Ryder in person as much as she could.
“Right,” she grunted with a chuckle. That would be impossible. But maybe avoiding him just for today would create enough distance where her emotions were concerned.
She rolled the electric cart down the curved driveway toward the main road, a slit of wintry morning sun clawing through gray clouds. It made a small patch of gold on the pavement. As she approached the turn, a movement in the woods caught her eye and she braked the cart.
“Nita,” called a voice, and a man stepped out onto the path in front of her.
She grasped her phone, thinking that somehow Luke had gotten onto the property.
“It’s me. Jackal,” said a gruff voice, and she watched the stocky man step backward into that patch of weak November dawn.
Jackal, the former head of security, stood before her. He was stockier and rougher-looking than the man she remembered, and his face was more lined, although it couldn’t have been too much more than a couple of weeks since she last saw him.
He’d been the last of the main security team, left in charge when his boss and his peer, Rogue, had quit. Rogue had been the prime suspect in all of Cavendish’s troubles. When the dead cat and kill kit had shown up while Jackal had been in charge, Hartley had kicked Jackal’s ass out the door.
Nita wasn’t sure what to make of Jackal. He’d passed Cavendish’s background check, so that was one level of trust. She knew he’d suspected Rogue from the start, which some owners agreed with. But she definitely admired the fact that he always seemed to have the success of Cavendish at heart. Maybe Hartley had acted too quickly when she fired him.
“Jackal,” she greeted, letting the cart roll slowly forward. When they were both in the patch of morning sun, Nita stepped on the brake lock.
“I don’t mean to shock you,” he said, his hands out warily. “I actually need your help.”
Her gut radar didn’t ping, but she didn’t get out of her cart, either.
“How did you get on the property?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
“There was a fence breach,” he explained, and made a face. “Which I shouldn’t be surprised about, but I am. There’ve been enough of those ever since Cavendish reopened.”
She remembered Ryder’s mention of the security breach he found the other day.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I wanted to talk to Hartley. Ms. Meyer, I mean,” Jackal said. “But I can’t get in touch with her.”
“Hartley’s away,” Nita replied, not wanting to give a lot of details about the owner’s movements. “I’m not so sure she’d take your call, even if you could get through to her.”
