Free Reckless Assignation by Denyse Bridger Page B

to sit through the original version of The
Phantom of the Opera —he deemed that particular film “a classic”—but Cinthya
had been on her own after that. It had been nearing daybreak when she’d finally
crawled into bed—and about another thirty seconds before she flew out again,
tripping in the sheets and falling flat on her face at his unexpected grab.
Rick had almost fallen out of bed himself from laughing at her. He was still
laughing when he’d left the apartment earlier this afternoon.
    Cinthya dismissed the monsters and ghouls of the previous
night and concentrated on locating the room where she was supposed to find her
mystery caller. A sag in the weathered wood of the floor creaked in the hollow
corridor. She bit her bottom lip to prevent any sound from escaping. Her
hammering heartbeat gradually subsided and she felt some of the fear-induced
dizziness pass. A chill rippled through her though, when she realized she was
staring up at the shadowy ceiling, her gaze drawn to the vast network of
cobwebs that had been woven over the years. It looked like wisps of cotton,
stretched to the point of breaking, except that this thready cloak was dulled
with years of dust and grime.
    A distinct thud at the other end of the long hallway had her
heading in that direction.
    She was several doors away from Room 313 when she was
grabbed from behind. A firm hand over her mouth cut off her scream. There was
no chance to fight off her attacker and she cursed herself as she was dragged
into a room and flung into a chair. Whoever had grabbed her was little more than
a shadowy presence in the near-total darkness. Her hands were tied securely
behind the high chair back and her feet were bound to the legs of the seat.
    The room grew blacker as her panic escalated, and she tried
to force her eyes to adjust by keeping them closed. She let out a gasp of
protest when a blindfold was tied around her head. For a split second, the
sensation of silk distracted her thoughts; the smooth feel of the material
against her skin was actually soothing. Her captor chose not to gag her, but
Cinthya knew it would be futile to yell anyway. She’d be considered one of the
hotel ghosts if anyone heard her at all—not much of a chance in this
neighborhood.
    “What’s going on? Who are you?” That was brilliant! she chided herself.
    There was no reply and she strained to identify the sound as
she caught the distinct rasp of a match being struck. She could smell the hint
of burning wood, then the stronger odor of oil. Oh shit! Some nut was
setting fire to the crumbling hotel and she was going to go down with it! She
opened her mouth to speak then decided against it when she couldn’t think of a
single thing to say. Pleading with whoever was doing this wouldn’t get her very
far.
    Visions of flames running through the old building,
devouring it, began to fill her mind, her imagination conjuring images that
terrified her more every moment.
    She sensed movement more than she actually heard it, and her
heartbeat threatened to deafen her when she felt someone standing over her.
    “What do you want?” She winced at the unmistakable quaver in
her voice then jumped when she felt hands on the back of the chair, close to
her shoulders. She opened her mouth again but never uttered a sound as her lips
were covered with a warm, gentle kiss.
    Recognition left her weak and shaking as she answered the
thrust of her lover’s tongue. The caress was sensual and provocative, leaving
Cinthya breathless and excited when it finally ended minutes later.
    “What took you so long, honey?” Rick whispered, his breath
soft against her lips.
    “Take the blindfold off and untie me,” she said, a flare of
irritation working into her tone when she realized she’d walked blithely into
an elaborate joke. Rick wasn’t going to let her live this one down for some
time, of that much she was certain.
    Rick complied with part of her entreaty. He removed the silk
blindfold, took a