Sophie did her best to conceal her disappointment. This was a man she knew was going to leave. Not like her previous boyfriends, whom she’d broken up with, or like Carter who’d shoved her out his front door then run upstairs to call his real girlfriend. At least with them for a while there had been hope that a man would be in her life permanently.
“What’s that look for?” Reede asked.
“Just thoughts,” Sophie said. “Heather called the party tonight McTern. I haven’t heard that name before.”
She could tell, even through the mask, that Reede was frowning, and it took him a moment to r
ecover himself. “It was the name of the people in Scotland who founded Edilean. Somehow, the name was changed to Harcourt, but Roan is a McTern.”
“You’ll look good as Zorro tonight,” she said.
“My mother has a different costume for me and I have no idea what it is. This one is for you alone.”
She could tell that something was bothering him, but she didn’t know what it was, but his good mood seemed to have vanished. “Did I say something?” she asked. “You seem—”
“No, nothing,” he said. “Edilean does this to me. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”
“Here in this house or here in—” She broke off at a sound at the front door below.
Reede reacted instantly. He shut the little double doors that opened over the living room, putting them in shadowy darkness.
“What is it?” Sophie asked in alarm.
“I don’t know,” Reede whispered. “Could be someone I know or—” There were voices below, and Reede put his finger to his lips and eased the door open a bit.
When he saw that Sophie wanted to see too, he motioned for her to move closer. She had to set the basket into a corner and she nearly knocked over a wine bottle, but Reede caught it.
Silently, Sophie scooted closer to him and he pulled her between his legs, her back to his front. She peered through the opening, but all they saw was an open door, the rain coming down hard outside. She looked at Reede—and saw that he was looking down at the top of her corset.
“The problem is out there,” she whispered.
“You are a very distracting presence. I think we should—”
“When are we gonna get out of this hellhole?” came a man’s voice from downstairs.
Reede tore his eyes from Sophie’s décolletage to look down at the scene below. A short, skinny man, dripping from the rain, was holding the door open.
“Come on!” the man said. “He’ll be here any minute.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Another man, taller, beefier, pushed through the doorway. He had two big takeout bags in his arms that he set on the old dining table. He paused to look around. “How did Pete find this dump?”
“It’s just for tonight,” the first man said. “And just because of the rain.”
“And your driving,” the second man said, then halted. “Somebody’s been here. Look at those pans catching the water.”
When the man pulled a pistol out of the back of his trousers, Sophie gave a gasp. Reede briefly put his hand over her mouth, his eyes warning her to be quiet, and she nodded.
“Did you hear that?”
“I can’t hear anything over the sound of my stomach growling.”
The second man was moving about the room, his gun held out and ready. “I’m going to check upstairs. This place gives me the creeps.”
Reede pulled away from Sophie and motioned for her to stay where she was. Silently, he went to the panel that covered the opening.
Sophie had to work to be quiet when he stepped outside. He seemed to be gone for a long time but she knew it was only minutes. When he returned he put the panel in place over the opening and enclosed them. She couldn’t help but think that if the man with the gun knocked that piece of wood away that they’d be trapped. They were up against nothing, as the floor was a story below.
Reede came back inside and looked out the door over the living room, and they sat motionless, in silence. They heard the second man come up the stairs, and listened as he moved about the second floor. Doors opened and closed.