Silent Deceit Read Free Page A

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beeline for the hallway at the other end of the bar. Slipping Mitch’s keys from
her pocket, she flicked on her flashlight and moved downstairs to the wine
cellar. She fumbled with the door lock until she found the right key. Turning
the cold steel handle in her palm, she slipped inside. Track lights shone down
on dusty bottles. How could that be when the power was out? Did Deuce have a
generator or a solar-powered system she wasn’t aware of?
      She shut the door behind her, moving
farther inside. It didn’t make sense; why would there be emergency lights down
here and not in the bar and dining room? Her gaze travelled the length of the
room along the clay tiled floor. Scuff marks leading past shelves of wine and
liquor ended at a far wall. She followed the trail and pressed an ear against the paneling. Was Zach down here? Was there a
hidden room?
      Plastered
against the wall, Natasha ran her hands along the smooth edges, searching for a
catch or hidden door release. Footprints didn’t end at a wall for no reason;
something was back there. Popping up on her toes, she didn’t hear the man behind her until it was too late. He flattened her against
the paneling, his hands gripping her hips, a leg
shoved between hers and his weight full against her. She twisted, tried to
break his hold, a useless move. Panic clawed at her throat. Would he rape her,
or worse? She threw her head back, hoping to smash his face. Grunting, he
absorbed the blow with a shoulder; too tall for her to inflict any serious
damage.
      “Behave yourself and follow my lead,” he
whispered.
      Skip?  “You son of a—!”
      Blazing heat pumped her bloodstream with
the first nip of his teeth on her shoulder. He rocked her against him, the
press of his hands guiding her hips. What the hell does he think he’s doing?
    “Get off
me. Now!”
      One minute Skip was there, the next he
was gone. Natasha sagged against the wall; collecting herself enough to risk
facing—Deuce, who had somehow entered the room
unnoticed. He studied her long and hard, as if trying to decide what he should
do with her. His bodyguard, Moshpit, had a gun trained on Skip, who lay
sprawled at their feet.
       Deuce snarled. “How the hell did you get
in here?”
    ––––––––
       “I get it! No
means no.” Skip hauled himself to a sitting position to hide the Sig tucked in
his belt. He held his hands in the air. “There’s no reason to get bent out of
shape and set these gorillas on me, babe.”
      “Shut up!” The squirrel he assumed was
Deuce kicked him hard in the leg. Ouch. Deuce turned back to Natasha, a
meaty paw squeezing her arm. “I won’t ask again. Who let you in here?”
       “I, uh, let myself in...I took these from
Mitch.” Natasha met Deuce’s gaze, holding up the ring of keys and jiggling it.
“He was knocked unconscious by the tree. All the liquor bottles were smashed,
and I needed some stock to keep your customers happy. I didn’t think it was
such a big deal.”
      Kingman watched her, snatching the keys
back with a scowl. “Don’t come down here again without one of my security guys.
Bad things can happen, like lover boy over there.”
      “I see that now.” Natasha redirected her
laser gaze to Skip. We’re not out of the woods yet, Tas. You’d better make it good. “I said
I’d have dinner with you, jerk face. I didn’t say I wanted to bear your
children!”
      “I’m sorry, okay? I got a little ahead of myself.” Skip
hauled himself slowly to his feet, keeping a wary eye on Deuce’s muscle with
the gun. “Hell, sugar, that tree coming through the wall got my adrenaline
pumping. And when the ceiling started to sag, I figured if I’m going to die, it
might as well be with a smile on my face.”
      “You jackass! I asked you to help me carry
bottles, not try to strip me naked.”
      “Shut your traps,
both of you!” Deuce shook his head like he’d heard
enough. Still, he seemed to swallow their