His skills didn’t run to charm, and with his heart in a vise over Theo, his patience was waning. The best option was to draw her away from the party, isolate her and make her see the wisdom of cooperating with him.
She tossed back her head, laughing at some flirty greeting from a man who appeared at her elbow offering champagne. Then she suddenly turned toward Parker, as if she’d sensed him staring.
Parker smiled, holding his ground while he waited for her to react. Her eyes went wide with recognition. From one second to the next, her initial shock shifted into a glare that would have split him in two if her eyes had been weapons. He merely raised his glass in a silent salute.
She turned away, returning her full attention to the people surrounding her.
He started toward her, taking his time, assessing the people around her as he practiced polite phrasing over and over in his head. She continued to check on his progress, something he found inappropriately satisfying under the circumstances. With growing confidence, he anticipated having her full attention, and the name of her source, before the night was over.
Fluttering her eyelashes at her entourage, she excused herself and moved toward the restrooms. Did she really think that would stop him?
Another man halted her, blocking her path just as she turned the corner. She stepped to the side and the stranger did the same, in that awkward dance of two people who were striving to be courteous.
Parker saw the danger a moment too late. The stranger’s startled expression clouded over and he yanked Rebecca around the corner and out of sight. Hurrying through the crowded space, Parker wondered why she wasn’t screaming. The woman had put up more resistance against him.
He turned into the corridor only to be blocked by a second man. Younger, trimmer than the first, he was moving into position to make sure no one interfered. Not your day, Parker thought. With two quick strikes, he disabled the sentry and pulled him out of sight of the partygoers.
He raced down the hall toward the stairwell, where Rebecca was struggling against the stranger’s hold, fighting to stay on this side of the door.
Parker charged forward.
“Halt,” the man ordered. “This is not your concern.”
Parker skidded to a stop, trying to place the clipped accent. Still fighting, Rebecca glowered, pointing an accusing finger at him, her mouth opening and closing on words she couldn’t get past her captor’s throat-crushing arm.
“Let her go,” Parker said, taking another step. The man pressed a syringe to her neck. Rebecca’s body arched violently and then went limp. “No! Stop!” Parker shouted, advancing once more.
The man’s mouth twisted into a nasty gap-toothed smile and as he wrestled Rebecca’s body into the stairwell, Parker saw a pale scar bisecting his cheek from lip to temple.
Parker leaped into action again. The stranger couldn’t have her, not when she was Parker’s best chance to identify the person trying to blackmail him and discredit his team. He plowed through the door and straight at them.
Startled, the man shoved Rebecca’s limp body at him and raced up the stairs. Parker eased her to the floor and pressed his fingers to her neck. Finding a pulse, he started after her assailant, only to hear the fire alarms go off. He didn’t believe for a second that there was a fire, but he was the only person who had good cause to doubt the alarm.
If he left her there, the accomplice could grab her or she might be injured by people fleeing the building with the false alarm. Scooping her up and over his shoulder, he hurried down the stairs, as voices of frightened people heeding the alarms and emergency lights filled the stairwell.
Knowing he couldn’t wait at the valet stand with an unconscious woman over his shoulder, he headed for the parking area. “Come on, kid, where’d you put my baby?” Pressing the panic button on the extra fob in his pocket, he waited for the response. When the lights flashed and the horn sounded, he hurried over to the Spyder and punched his code into the panel on the door.
Settling her into the seat and fastening the safety belt, he checked her pulse again before closing the passenger door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbled at the press of the start button and he maneuvered out of the parking area before it clogged with staff and guests escaping the hotel.
“Just a producer, huh?” Parker snorted as he followed the path of least traffic resistance away from the hotel. “Someone wants you as badly as I do.”
This latest unexpected development bothered him. Was the goal chaos or was there a logical end game? All of his training warned him he was dealing with two opponents with different agendas, yet it seemed quite a coincidence that they would attack at the same time.
What he needed was more information from her and about her. He wouldn’t get the first until she woke up. There was no telling how long that would take, or if she’d be cooperative when she did. If he could find a safe place for her to sleep off the drug, he could use the time to dig deeper into her past for a possible kidnapping motive.
At the next opportunity, Parker shifted his route to head west. There was a property with an ocean view that he kept as a rental under the company name, complete with a safe room. Initially he’d planned to live there and he’d handled every detail of the security measures as an exercise to see what could be done more than because he feared a home invasion or an attack.
The rental, currently empty, would be their safest bet. He drove around for half an hour until he was sure he wasn’t being followed. When he carried Rebecca inside, he took her straight to the safe room and tucked her in on the love seat, covering her with a cashmere throw.
He removed her high heels and cleared the safe room of items she might use against him. He removed any tech that could be used to communicate with the outside world. He didn’t want her giving away their position to his—or her—enemies.
With a little luck, in a few hours she’d wake up and they could have a calm conversation without any extra ears or distractions. Armed with information, they could go their separate ways and never have to speak to each other again.
Becca came awake slowly, her eyes gritty and her throat dry as she tried to get her bearings. The lights were dim and she had the immediate impression of being in a pleasant small sitting room. Someone had removed her shoes, tucked her in and covered her with an incredibly soft throw. The gesture left her wary rather than comforted. What happened?
Easing herself upright, she found herself on a love seat upholstered in deep burgundy leather so smooth it felt like silk to the touch. Not Bill’s house. She didn’t recognize the space, couldn’t name a single friend who had a room like this. Where were her shoes?
“Hello?” Her throat was dry enough that she sounded like a frog. How long had she been here? She called out a couple more times, receiving no answer.
Fear trickled down her spine, a chill under her skin that burned as questions burst through her clouded mind. Where was she? Who brought her here? Why?
She stood up and the room turned in a sick, lopsided circle. Falling back, she let the love seat catch her as she tried to force herself to remember something. Anything. A bottle of water had been placed on the end table between the love seat and chair. Terribly thirsty, she reached for it and then snatched her hand back. The bottle looked new, but that was no guarantee it was safe to drink.
“Think,” she whispered to herself. Someone had put her here, and she had no intention of making it easy for them to keep her. She fingered the hem of her dress, vaguely recalling her boredom with her date. They’d been at a hotel. A party. Snippets of the evening