Good at Games Read Free

thought with pride, but I can still play hard to get.
    Oh no, let him wait.
    Until tomorrow night, at least.
    * * *
    The door to the ladies’ room crashed open less than a minute later. Suzy, bent double in front of the ornate gilded mirror, vigorously spraying the roots of her just-brushed hair with hair spray to give it oomph—and experiencing a bit of a head rush—let out a shriek, as for the second time that evening she was grabbed unexpectedly from behind.
    So to speak.
    Heavens, it was like déjà vu, only really happening. Except this time the hands doing the grabbing were bigger, hairier, and…um, there appeared to be quite a few of them.
    â€œOne, two, three, heave ,” bawled one of the crew from Slade and Matthews. Rather ungallantly, Suzy felt. The walls of the bathroom began to spin as she was thrown over a burly shoulder.
    â€œRight, I’ve got her. Mike, you bring her bag. Si, get the door open. Hold on, my lovely, you’re coming with us.”
    â€œDon’t want to,” Suzy gasped, her out-of-control hair flopping over her face as she clung on for dear life.
    â€œNo choice, darling. Truth or Dare, that’s the game, and this is what we were dared to do.”
    Si held the door open. Denzil, Suzy’s kidnapper, propelled her through the doorway. Mike brought up the rear, clutching her handbag in one hand and the can of hair spray in the other.
    Suzy, jiggling up and down on Denzil’s sturdy shoulder as they raced through the lobby, panted, “You don’t understand, I have to go b-back. I’m in the middle of arranging a d-d-dinner date.”
    They were outside the hotel now, heading up Princess Victoria Street and attracting curious glances from passersby. Suzy prayed her panties weren’t on display.
    Denzil gave her bottom a reassuring pat.
    â€œWith a policeman. We know, Rory told us. That’s why we had to kidnap you, darling. To save you from yourself.”
    â€œBut he’s g-gorgeous!”
    â€œHe’s not; he’s a traffic cop.” Denzil was scornful. “Imagine if you married him. He’d arrest you every time you squeezed the toothpaste tube in the middle, or left a tea bag on the side of the sink.”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” wailed Suzy. “He’s not like all the others. And he has these incredible blue eyes.”
    They had reached the Clifton Wine Bar, where a tremendous Friday night party was in progress. Still carrying Suzy in a fireman’s lift, Denzil pushed his way into the noisy, heaving throng.
    â€œYou stay here with us, darling. Trust me, it’s for the best. Never tangle with policemen; they’ve all got a thing about handcuffs.” By way of consolation, presumably, he patted her bottom once more before lowering her—somewhat bumpily—to ground level. “Besides, think what it’d do to your street cred.”
    They were joined minutes later by Rory, Martin, and Donna.
    â€œWas he still there when you left?” With her free hand, Suzy clutched her brother’s arm. The other remained firmly locked in Denzil’s grasp.
    â€œWho, the boy in blue?” No great drinker, Rory was as befuddled after two pints of lager as the rest of them after ten. “I think he might have been.” He frowned at Suzy. “Why, was he bothering you?”
    â€œHe was asking me out!”
    Brothers, honestly. Sometimes couldn’t you just kick them?
    Rory grimaced sympathetically and gave her shoulder a clumsy consoling pat.
    â€œBad luck. Still, never mind, we didn’t tell anyone where we were going. He’ll never find us.”
    Denzil’s hand remained clamped around Suzy’s wrist for the next hour.
    Until nature called.
    â€œIf you think you’re dragging me into the men’s bathroom with you,” Suzy told him, “well, you’re just not, OK?”
    Denzil pulled a twenty-pound note out of his