Burned Deep (31 page)

“Oh, shit,” I choked out. “Oh, God!”

Terror besieged me. The snake started to uncoil and move. Toward me. I took very small, slow steps backward, up to the fourth-floor landing. It slithered to the first step. I turned and raced the rest of the way up and grabbed the handle on the door. It didn't budge.

Fuck!

I swiped my badge, forgetting that I had to in order to unlock the door. The light remained red. I swiped again, yanked on the handle. Nothing happened.

I stole a glance down the stairway. The rattler inched toward me, its pronged tongue darting in and out of its mouth, its tail sounding like a sprinkler going off in the middle of summer.

I screamed again. Pounded on the door. “Dane! Amano!
Someone!
”

I pulled harder on the lever. Then my fists banged against the door again.

Suddenly the electronic reader chimed and the door flew open. I jumped back.

Dane took one look at me—likely with horror stamped across my face—and grabbed me, jerking me to him.

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

“Snake.” I pointed. “Don't let the door close!”

“What the
fuck
?” He ushered me out of the stairwell, his arms tight around me.

My heart had never thundered so fiercely. I couldn't catch my breath.

“What happened?” Amano demanded.

“Rattler,” was all Dane said.

Amano flung the door open and saw it for himself. “Son of a bitch.” He slammed the door closed. “I'll get rid of it.”

“Have the grounds crew do a thorough sweep to see if there are more. Tell them to check for eggs.” Dane guided me to his office.

Molly sprang to her feet when we entered. “My God, Ari! You're white as a ghost.” To Dane, she repeated Amano's question. “What happened?”

I shook uncontrollably, so she likely assumed I couldn't get a coherent word out. She was probably right.

Dane said to her, “Send an e-mail to all employees to stay out of the west wing stairwell and tape signs to the outside of the doors telling them to keep out.”

“I don't under—”

“Please, just do it,” he insisted. “No one's to be in the stairwell.”

“Of course, Mr. Bax. Whatever you say.” She scurried off.

Dane led me to the sofa and I sank onto the cushion, still vibrating violently. He poured a scotch and brought it to me, sitting on the sturdy coffee table in front of me and holding the crystal tumbler so I could sip.

“It's okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “It'll be okay.” Tension radiated from him, undermining his effort to calm me.

After a much longer gulp of scotch, I asked, “How the hell would a rattlesnake get into the stairwell?”

“I don't know, Ari.” His jaw clenched. He didn't say more. Didn't want to speculate. Just brooded in a tormented sort of way.

Several minutes passed as I polished off the drink. My breathing slowed but my pulse was still erratic. That damn snake could have given me a massive coronary before it'd even bitten me.

Amano returned. With a concerned look I appreciated, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Getting there,” I lied.

To Dane, he said, “We've got it under control in the stairwell. Couple of guys on the crew worked at a golf club in Scottsdale previously. They're used to dealing with the snakes. Keep special lassos on hand, just in case.”

“They're not all that common this far north,” Dane commented. “Especially not this time of year.”

He shook his head and stood. Anguish rolled off him in waves, mixed with the very obvious tension over it having been me in the dangerous situation.

“Goddamn it!” he suddenly roared as his fist slammed against his desk.

I jumped.

He glanced my way and asked, “Why couldn't you get back in?”

I lifted the badge hanging on a thin, bejeweled lanyard around my neck. “Didn't work.”

Amano was instantly on his cell. “Bring up Miss DeMille's account,” he said without preamble. His strained tone spoke volumes, and a second later he was shaking his head, too, and pacing the floor. “Deactivated? When?… Twenty minutes ago. Shit … Not just hers? Three others.” He shot a look toward Dane. “More goddamn IT issues.” He listened further, then said, “Reactivate her account and monitor it regularly.”

As soon as he disconnected the call, Dane told him, “I want all of the security wiring replaced before Monday morning. I don't care if your contractors have to work around the clock. Get it done. Every single camera has to be functioning before I come in.”

“Agreed. The cameras in the stairwell aren't even hooked up at the moment. But they will be.”

So there was no concrete way to discern how a snake had made its way into the area. A propped-open door during some routine maintenance work, or … Had someone on the inside known about the cameras not currently providing surveillance in the stairwell?

I was at a loss, though one thing was clear. This did not bode well for anyone. Dane in particular. And I could see the toll it took on him. But he was obviously more worried about me.

Taking my hand, he said, “Come on. We'll get some stuff from your house and then you'll stay at mine until we've figured this all out.”

Panic seized me. “You don't think—”

“I don't know what to think, Ari. Except that you take that route when no one else does. So what the hell am I supposed to—”

“Dane, no one knows about us. Why would…?” Okay, Amano knew. But other than that … “No one outside this room knows about us. And I'm not involved in anything confidential at the moment. I'm just getting started with the launch preparation.”

“I'm not taking chances, okay? The media-room fire and now a snake in the stairwell?” His piercing emerald eyes left no potential for argument. “Just let me handle this, Ari. Let me take care of it.”

“How?” I asked, though my voice wasn't very steady—like I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know his answer.

“I have my ways.”

 

chapter 17

Snake-tat guy flashed in my mind again.

“I've seen you ‘handle' things,” I told Dane. I got to my feet and stepped closer to him. “You're talking about violence here, right?”

His gaze narrowed on me. “I'm talking about doing whatever I have to in order to protect the Lux—and you.
Especially
you, Ari.”

My heart pounded heavily. “Dane … I can't … I mean, that's—” I shook my head. Turned away. My eyes squeezed shut.

He was willing to go to any extreme to stop the attacks. To even the score. However he looked at it. And that disturbed me as much as it provided a hint of relief that he wasn't going to let anything happen to the hotel or me. That whatever the threat, he could contain it.

At the same time, I worried over that
extreme
. How far he'd actually go. I'd caught enough glimpses of his angst to know a storm brewed within him. If anything went more haywire at the Lux—and involved me—what would be his breaking point? And how volatile would the tempest be?

I wasn't a fan of rage. I'd grown up in a house full of fury and explosive tempers. There'd been a few too many instances in my life when I'd encountered someone
on the verge of massive destruction
.

“Ari,” Dane said as he laid a hand on my arm. “Just take a few breaths. Trust me.”

I opened my eyes and faced him. “I'm a little afraid of what you might be capable of.”

A bit of an understatement, but the truth nonetheless.

He nodded. “Try to understand why it's so important to me to—”

“I don't know why anything's important to you, Dane!” I erupted. “Because you're still not telling me everything!”

Amano moved in and said to Dane, “I'll manage everything here.”

“I know you will.” Dane clasped the man on the shoulder, though Amano was a good three inches taller and maybe twenty or so years Dane's senior. “I trust you. Thank you.”

I had no idea what their relationship was, how long they'd known each other, or what had bonded them together, but I couldn't dispute that the expression in Amano's eyes, the intensity exuding from him, confirmed he was a solid for Dane. On his side all the way. Mine, too, given my association with Dane. Amano had been worried about me. Maybe even before the snake incident, if his diligent shadowing was any indication.

Dane gathered up his laptop and some files and packed them in his bag. Then he put an arm around my waist and we left his office. In mine, the workers had finished and the new, slim corkboard cabinet was striking on my pristine white wall. But I didn't have time to get all jazzed over it. Urgency radiated from Dane. He wanted me out of here. Fast.

I wasn't inclined to dillydally. I still trembled from head to toe. He helped me get all the things I needed in order to continue working over the weekend, including carrying an enormous stack of catalogs as I slung the strap of the laptop bag over my shoulder. He grabbed my tote and we headed out.

The elevator arrived and he peered inside before letting me in. That freaked me out even more—was I going to have to watch my every step, peek around every corner, from now on?

“Dane.” I swallowed hard. “What else haven't you told me?” Because I had a disturbing suspicion there was a deeper plot to this nightmare.

“Not now, Ari.”

I simmered. His angst set me on edge. There was more to what was happening at the Lux. I could feel it in my bones. The investment group mishap was not anything to be discounted; I knew that. But I could sense there were things he hadn't told me last night.

We left the property and I fought to keep the questions flying from my mouth. He drove us to my townhome and I packed another bag and grabbed a couple more suits still on their hangers. Anxiety tore through me as we wound our way up Oak Creek Canyon.

It was a gloomy afternoon with a light drizzle. Not our typical autumn weather. I started to feel as though the universe conspired against Dane and 10,000 Lux.

I spared a glance at him and noted his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. I wondered if he pondered the same thing I did. Or if there was something a bit darker on his mind.

A chill ran down my spine. Here was the problem with being so wrapped up in this man and his world. I really didn't know him. Not as well as I should when I'd just been locked in a stairwell with a deadly snake.

I shuddered.

Best not to think of that right now, Ari.

I needed to calm down. I tried to force my shoulders to loosen. They remained bunched much too close to my ears. My hands still shook.

Dane reached over and covered them as I wrung them in my lap. “Calm down. You're making me even more inclined to throttle someone.”

I shot him a look. “But you're not sure which someone, are you?”

“Let's just say, it's time to get this under control.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Trust me to handle it, Ari.”

I inhaled deeply, hoping it would steady me a bit. No such luck. I asked, “Don't you have other partners who are concerned?”

“Yes. Three others from the initial investment group. I'll probably spend the majority of tomorrow with them at the house.”

I nodded. “I'll stay out of your way. I have a lot to do.”

“You don't have to work twenty-four-seven, baby. We still have almost three months till the grand opening.”

“That's really not as much time as you think in the land of event planning. And I don't mind being so busy.”

It'd always been the way I'd managed my life and my emotions. Part of the avoidance theory I'd adopted at a young age. In this case, it'd help to have something to focus on other than what had happened today. And how I'd literally spiraled out of control with Dane.

I was alarmed by the inescapable acknowledgment of how deep I was in with this man and that there was no longer the retreat I was accustomed to making when the flame burned a bit too close to the skin. With Dane, I couldn't seem to keep the walls up. More than that, I didn't want to keep them up.

That meant I had to coax more out of him. Really find out what he was involved with and how it truly impacted the Lux. And me.

We arrived at his creekside, nestled-in-the-woods house and he unlocked the door for me, then grabbed our things from the SUV. He left our work bags in the foyer and I followed him down the wide hallway to a room opposite his. The dressing room.

I pulled up short and gasped at the size of it. “Good Lord, Dane.”

He set my totes on the rectangular marble-topped bureau with drawers and cabinets that was situated in the center of the room. He hung my clothes on the only empty rack against the far wall, with a ledge above and below for accessories or shoes. The wood was a rich mahogany and there was a three-way mirror in the corner, along with several chairs and end tables scattered about. The room was filled with his neatly arranged suits, shirts, ties, shoes, sweaters, pants. I took it all in, awestruck again.

“I thought rooms like this only existed in movies,” I said, unable to process how much the setup alone cost, not to mention every article of clothing filling it.

He opened two top drawers and relocated the T-shirts inside. Then he asked, “Will this do?”

I stared at him, now befuddled. “You're giving me drawers?”

“You don't want your clothes to wrinkle, right?”

“Right,” I numbly agreed.

Drawers.
Wasn't that a really big deal?

Don't think about it, Ari. Just unpack.

I retrieved the yoga suits and other items I'd brought along and tucked them away. Dane stripped down, changing into another pair of loose black pants and a black tank top that fit him sinfully well, displaying his bulging biceps and conforming to his chiseled chest and abs.