Henry took them to Phil’s suite first, then paused in the doorway.
“Your fiancée’s room is next to yours. After you get settled, ring me on the intercom, and I’ll come escort you to dinner. I’m sure you’re hungry after your drive, and my wife has prepared a lovely meal for you.”
“Your wife?” Lynn echoed.
Henry nodded. “Agatha. She cooks for the Bigelows.”
“Do you live in the house?”
“No, we have our own cottage on the grounds.”
Her heart sank. Crap. Henry and his wife would be leaving the mansion at some point. But the separate-room thing was even better because she did not want to be alone with Phil.
After Henry was gone, Phil turned to her with a concentrated frown. “Don’t.”
She gulped. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t try to leave.” A petulant gleam lit his eyes. “You promised to see this through, and you know what will happen if you don’t.”
Reasoning with him hadn’t worked. She had to do a better job of pretending she’d caved. “I’m sorry. I’m hungry, and I’m tired.”
Concern washed over his face. “Why don’t we get you settled, then? You can lie down for a while. Maybe have a hot bath. Or I can give you a massage.”
She smiled sweetly even as she hid her shudder. Talk about a motivator—she’d give an Academy Award-winning performance to avoid having him touch her. “I think I need food first.”
“Of course.” There he went again, acting all reasonable and shit as he led her into a room the size of her entire apartment.
Jeez, some people knew how to spend money. Even as she looked for a way out, she couldn’t help but notice the luxurious dark wood and the enormous windows.
And the lovely desk in the corner. The one with a telephone sitting on top.
Lynn spun, raising her arms in an attempt to draw Phil’s attention away from the important things. She snapped both hands toward the open door on the opposite side of the room she assumed held the bathroom. “There it is.” She checked over her shoulder, pleased to discover Phil watching her closely. She wiggled her fingers at the main door. “I really am starving. Why don’t you go buzz Henry? I’ll just wash my face and be ready to go.”
Phil nodded as he graced her with a pleased smile. “Now you’re being reasonable.”
Ick. The pretense was making her nauseated.
She slipped into the bathroom and collapsed against the wall, crossing fingers on both hands as she waited in silence for him to leave.
Ten seconds later the door clicked shut, and her heart leapt.
Lynn darted back into the room, jerking to a stop. The phone was gone. The fucker had grabbed it and taken it with him.
“Noooo! You bastard.” Lynn raced forward and turned the doorknob. The handle moved, but the door refused to budge. She knelt down and checked the locks, swearing again, louder this time, as she spotted the keyed deadbolt. The kind you needed a key to unlock no matter which side of the door you were on.
Phil had taken the phone and locked her in the room. She was trapped.
Or…was she?
She scooted over to the windows. Outside the sky had gone completely dark, pinpricks of stars shining against the velvet backdrop.
The middle window wasn’t a window—it was a teeny balcony. Lynn stepped out, wrapped her hands around the railing, and leaned over. Feature spotlights shone on trees far, far below, the long swoop of the driveway visible to the right. On the left, the crash of the ocean against the shore echoed off the cliffs, and between the two were nothing but trees.
Far, far below her, or had she already thought that?
She swallowed hard and forced herself to stay where she was and check the situation thoroughly. Obviously heading over the edge of the balcony wasn’t a solution. Even if she attempted a Rapunzel, all the bed sheets tied together wouldn’t reach the ground. Not without her throwing up on the descent.
But the house side?
Up against the house a solid wood trellis reached upward like a ready-made ladder. The roof above her dipped as the main overhead section met the extension of the dormer, and the lattice and roof were directly over the balcony. Worst-case scenario—if she did fall, it would be back onto where she currently stood.
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was a plan. If she made it to the roof she could move over across the top to anywhere else on the building. Find a door to get inside, or maybe sneak all the way to the ground.
From there she could find a phone and call Parker. And once she’d warned him, she’d tell him to come and get her, because man, did she need to hear his voice.
All her concerns about the man were gone. He’d screwed up. But he’d known it, confessed it, and when push came to shove, in a tough situation, he was the one she wanted at her side.
But first she had to save herself so she could tell him that. She had no other choice. Lynn put her hands to the wood. Took a deep breath.
And climbed.
Chapter Seventeen