Читать книгу Abducted - Samantha Keith - Страница 9

Chapter 2

“Shit.” The spike of her five-inch pump caught on the foot well as she stepped out of the car. She grabbed the car door for support and righted herself.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk,” teased Carly from the driver’s seat. Lana tugged the hem of her tight minidress and leaned back into the car.

“Am not.” She stuck out her tongue, then grinned and shut the car door. She’d only had a glass or two of champagne the entire time they’d been at the nightclub, and was completely sober now. Well, mostly anyway.

The cool midnight air caressed her exposed skin. She waved good-bye as she approached the property gate, punched in the code, and waited as the wrought-iron hinges swung open. The stamped concrete drive split into two like the long tongue of a snake. One direction led off to the main house and wrapped itself around the mountainous stone fountain. The other path stretched to the guesthouse, where she lived. The isolation from the main house granted her the privacy she needed from her father and stepmother.

Her high heels scuffed against the slick concrete as she strode down the mouth of the one-hundred-foot drive. Patio stones dotted the grass off the drive to the guesthouse beyond the pool. A line of bushes and tall shrubs peppered the front of the guesthouse.

Thunder rumbled from the sky, and a raindrop plopped on her forehead. The fountain in the backyard gurgled as water rushed over the massive stones to collect at the pool beneath. In the daylight, the sounds from the fountain were calming, but tonight it was too loud. Too invasive. The smell of moisture hung in the air from the rain earlier. It was chilly, but a coat would have clashed with her outfit.

She opened up her rhinestone-encrusted clutch to fish out her house keys. A movement out of the corner of her eye made her feet hitch. She grasped her keys in her fist and scanned the yard around her. The breeze kicked up and rustled the leaves overhead.

Just the wind.

Large elm trees and strategically groomed shrubs decorated the grounds. Tonight, the brooding mosaic of shapes gave her the creeps. The Mediterranean-style monstrous house hovered behind her. One lone light on the main level switched off like a creature closing its eye. Anne, the maid, would be the only one home.

Once she disappeared into the back, Carly backed out of the drive. The headlights sliced through the night before vanishing. The sensor light above her head flickered before going out. Her spine stiffened. She stepped through the grass and onto the patio stones, the safety of the guesthouse only feet away. Soon she would be in her cozy warm bed.

Carly dropping her off was a sour reminder that she still lived under the household of her parents and her lack of independence. At least in the guesthouse, she was concealed from their scrutiny and could come and go as she pleased. Thankfully, this weekend they were away for one of her father’s business meetings in Monaco. He wouldn’t find out until later in the week that she’d gone out tonight.

A shiver raced up her spine as the chilly breeze disturbed the placidity of the night. It was darker than usual. A cloud crept over the moon, shielding it against its will. The obscurity of its glow rippled in warning. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Someone was watching her.

Her throat closed. Razor-sharp fear bit into her. Her eyes darted around the shadowed yard in search of a predator. Tall, freshly groomed shrubs swayed in the breeze. Goose bumps raced over her flesh. Paranoia bubbled up in her throat and threatened to strangle her.

She braced for the attack, but it didn’t come.

Get a grip, Lana.

She stabbed her key into the lock and swung the door open. Inside the house, her hand sought the light switch and flicked it on. She slammed the door, her fingers fumbling as she snapped the lock shut.

She was too old to be getting spooked.

At least for tonight, the closeness of the main house was a slight comfort. She raced from room to room and flicked on every light.

Empty.

She exhaled a pent-up breath.

She dropped onto the edge of her bed and began to undo her shoes. Her fingers stilled on the clasp of the black leather strap. Her eyes fixed on the closet door. Had she left it closed? She couldn’t remember. The room crackled with tension. Her heart beat triple time. Her breath came out in short, sharp puffs.

She rose to her feet. Sweat moistened her palms. Shoe gripped in her hand, the heel wielded like a spear, she advanced on the closet. Her hand closed around the smooth metal knob. Her pulse raged with the force of a fire hose.

She yanked the door open.

Rods and racks of clothes and shoes stared back at her like the blank eyes of the stuffed animals that crowded her dresser.

Nothing.

She released her held breath through tight, exasperated lips. The shoe dropped from her limp fingers and landed to the carpet with a soft thud.

She raked her tingling hand through her loose hair and squeezed her eyes shut. What is the matter with me?

She had been on edge for days. She needed to get her mind off of the nagging presence that plagued her. She’d call Gina. Gina always made her feel better, and it was never too late to call her. Gina would find it hilarious that she’d gone out tonight against her father’s wishes. She didn’t like lying to him, but there was a heck of a lot less drama when she abided by his rules. At least when he thought she abided by his rules.

Edward Vanderpoel had his squeaky-clean reputation and a pristine image to uphold. Every move she made played a part. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake. At twenty-six years old, she was tired of living under his thumb and his ideals. She was single, but mostly because her father had never approved of her boyfriends. Besides, men sucked.

She worked hard; her father had never let her take their money for granted. She loved her dad dearly, and Grace, her stepmother, too, but it was past time she got her own place. With that thought firmly planted in her mind, she slipped out of her dress and pulled on a pair of light cotton pajamas. She reached for the phone and dialed. The nights were cool at this time of year, but her suite was always too warm. She stepped into her en suite bathroom and began to remove her makeup and get ready for bed.

“Hey, girl, how was your night?” Gina’s cheery voice washed away the dark shadows.