Free The Maze (ATCOM) by Jennifer Lowery Page A

Sexy playmate. No wonder Santiago had issued such cruelty in that
prison. Betrayal by a woman like that would cut deep.
    The
door slid open. They walked through into an elaborate dining room with a long,
polished table stretching the length of the room. The walls were richly
decorated in paintings resembling Picasso’s. A chandelier hung over the center
of the table providing soft light. Sensational scents filled the air with the
promise of a fine meal.
    One
man sat in the shadows at the head of the table, another on his left and armed
guards all around.
    Noah
stood behind Attie, noticing the tense set of her shoulders. This would be the
first time he’d met Santiago. He knew him on paper, in video, in theory, but
he’d never come face to face with the man. Now that he had him, he wanted to
end this for what he’d put her through—what he was still putting her through.
    The
man at the head of the table stood and moved into the light. Noah tramped down
his carnal desire to kill the bastard right then and there with his bare hands,
and faced the enemy.
    He
was a patient man. He would wait for the right time.
    That’s
what ATCOM had sent him in for.
    * * * *
    Attie
felt the blood drain from her face as Carlos stood and made himself known.
She’d prepared herself for this moment since Noah brought her the news of
Brendan’s disappearance, but seeing him now proved she hadn’t prepared at all.
She stood on weak knees, paralyzed, as the one responsible for her nightmares
smiled at her.
    Oh,
God, that smile. It brought back too many memories.
    Fighting
the fist that closed around her throat, she struggled to maintain her
composure. An arm brushed against hers. She glanced over to see Noah now stood
beside her. He met her gaze with calm strength. Subtle and brief, but enough to
alleviate some of her fear. Unlike before, she wasn’t alone in this. The
thought brought her comfort she hadn’t expected.
    Carlos
walked toward her, at ease in his designer suit. As he approached, she squared
her shoulders, determined not to let him see how much he’d shaken her.
    “Ah,
Atalanta, how nice it is to have you with me once again.”
    Attie
fought the urge to pull back when he clasped her hand in his and lifted it to
his lips for a kiss. Her skin crawled in remembrance of the time he had lifted
her hand in much the same manner but instead of kissing it, had bitten her hard
enough to draw blood. Then laved it with his tongue.
    “What’s
this? Calluses? Just what have you been doing to yourself in your absence,” he
asked, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles.
    Attie
pulled her hand away. “What I do is no longer your concern, Carlos.”
    “I
disagree. Your well-being has always been, and always will be, my concern. Your
skin is too lovely to be callused. It should remain smooth as silk.”
    “You
ruined that for me when you decided to imprison me.”
    Something
flickered in Carlos’s eyes, but he masked it quickly.
    “Let’s
not discuss it now. My cook has prepared a fine meal.” His gaze landed on Noah.
“Mr. Deason, I presume?”
    Attie
turned slightly, steadying her breathing, reining in her emotions. She wouldn’t
let Carlos see how he affected her. For Brendan’s sake she had to keep her wits
about her no matter what Carlos did. She could handle this. She wasn’t Chrystal
now; she could defend herself.
    She
glanced at Noah and the tailored suit he wore. She had never seen him in
anything but fatigues. The transformation made her swallow hard. His damp hair
curled around his collar. The dark jacket fit him like a glove and accented his
broad, well-muscled shoulders. The crisp, white shirt was unbuttoned at the
throat, and slacks hugged his long legs.
    Attie
tore her eyes away, focusing on Carlos once again. She didn’t need him seeing
her attraction for Noah. He would use it against her. Against Noah. She tried
to deny it, but every time she looked at him it hit her like a wrecking ball,
crashing through her defenses,