Yeah, right. Pitting her against Lazar and Novak was one hell of a way to keep her safe. Or himself, either, for that matter. He might've just signed his own death warrant, but what the hell. If she couldn't be trusted, then she didn't need rescuing anyway, and he was used to thinking of himself as a dead man.
She led him up a spiral staircase though he could barely see in the stygian darkness. At the door, he pushed her behind him and peered in, scanning the place carefully before he let her enter.
He knew that this house was full of eyes and ears, but even if he hadn't known, he would have sensed them. He could actually feel a camera’s cold, unblinking gaze against his skin.
He locked the door, opened his bag and mounted the portable squealer onto the door frame. One of Ream's bored-on-his-coffee-break inventions, handy when you wanted privacy. He pulled out the probe monitor, and began to methodically sweep the walls.
Raine sat down on the bed. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Sweeping for bugs.” He grabbed a fragile-looking antique chair and climbed onto it, hoping it would bear his weight.
Her eyes widened. “You think that—”
“I don't think. I know. That's why he invited me here. He wants to watch us, and probably film us. For posterity.”
“I don't believe that!”
Under other circumstances, he would have laughed at the prim horror in her voice, but he was too concentrated on his task. “Victor likes to watch,” he said bluntly. “And I know exactly how much money he's willing to spend on toys like this.”
He found the first bug in the ceiling fan: remote 399-030 MHz free space transmitter. There was another in the track lighting. There was a 490-mm modulated sodium optical bug in one of the overhead lightbulbs. There were four pinholes spaced out high in the wall with video cameras mounted behind the cedar paneling, impossible to get to without a hammer or an axe. He pulled a stick of gum out of his pocket, chewed it until it was soft, and plugged up the holes.
He used the VLF probe function to test for carrier current signals, of which he found two—the clock and one of the bedside lamps. He dismantled them both. Lazar obviously believed in overkill.
At the risk of seeming paranoid, he took out multifunction thermal imaging goggles, fitted a 99% obscuration IR filter and switched on the night vision function to scan for laser diode infrared emitters. There were two. That devious bastard.
He dismantled those, and turned around slowly in the middle of the room for a long time, scanning the walls and ceilings. Essentially, he was feeling around with his own internal antenna, using pure instinct.
Negative. Unless he was losing his touch, the room was clean.
He turned back to Raine, and held out a bristling handful of dismantled surveillance gadgets. “There's a lot you don't know about your precious uncle, princess.”
“Don't call me that,” she said sharply. “You found them, right? We'll have our privacy. So there's no harm done.” She looked around at the dismembered lamp, the gutted clock. Her face convulsed, and she dropped it into her hands, shoulders heaving with silent laughter.
“What's so goddamn funny?” he demanded.
She lifted her face. Bright spots of red glowed in her cheeks. “Everything. This place is surreal. I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole.”
“I'm glad you're amused,” he growled.
Her hands dropped to her lap. “I don't see why you're so wound up.” There was a hysterical tremor in her voice. “Everyone's family has a”—she choked back a giggle—”a problematic uncle.”
“Problematic? You call this
Raine threw up her hands, shaking with helpless laughter. “I'm just trying to cope, Seth. If you'd make an effort to do the same, I would really appreciate it. Try and look on the situation as ... a test.”
He let out an ironic grunt. “Like the. underground fantasy comics I used to read when I was a kid? I'm in the castle of the evil sorcerer king. If I solve the riddle, I get to fuck the beautiful princess. If I don't, I get fed to the dragon, chunk by bloody chunk.”
She shook her head, regal and aloof. “No, you tasteless clod. You get to
He stiffened, and his ears started to buzz. “Oh,” he said stupidly, staring at her. He swallowed. “So that's how the story goes?”
“Yes. Standard fairy-tale format. Knights errant aren't usually crass, rude, suspicious, sexually obsessed commitment-phobes.”
“I must've read the wrong comics when I was a kid.” He stared at her, hypnotized by the way the bedside lamp back-lit the wisps that had finally begun to escape from her hairdo, illuminating them like a delicate golden crown. “I guess if the guy's gone to all that trouble to slay the dragon and solve the riddle for that princess, then he's ready to settle down in a split-level suburban home with her.”
“Having normalcy fantasies again, Seth?” she asked sweetly.
The rosy lamp painted her with smudgy velvet shadows. He couldn't wait another second to lick and nuzzle every single sweet curve. “Fuck normal,” he said. “I solved the riddle and I want my prize. Get that dress off, your Highness. Let me see what I've won.”
She rose to her feet and backed away. “Wait a minute,
Seth.”
He trapped her against the cedar paneling, loving the way the corset crammed her breasts together and offered them up to his eyes like luscious fruit, “Why wait? I was summoned to service you, right? Let's play a sexy game, Raine. You get to be the beautiful, pampered niece of a shady multimillionaire, and I get to be the brainless, muscle-bound stud with a perpetually hard cock who's been summoned to the island hideaway to fulfill her every erotic whim. What do you say?”
She splayed her hands against his chest, but not to push him away ... more as if she wanted to assure herself that he was real. She licked her lips, her eyes glowing with catlike interest. “I'd say the setup is kind of trashy and unrealistic, but it has possibilities.”
He stroked the tops of her breasts tenderly with his fingertips. “Sounds like the plot of an awesome porno flick.”
Her soft mouth tightened. “I wouldn't know. I don't watch that kind of thing.”
The Miss Priss tone bugged him, and he yanked the bottom of her corset again. “Oh, no? Too nasty for you, your Highness?” he crooned.
She twisted and slapped his hands away. “Don't,” she said sharply. “Your mean streak is showing, and it's making me angry. Get that sleazy tone out of your voice and wipe that dirty look off your face, or I'm not playing.”
Her words hung in the air. His hands dropped to his sides. He felt almost as abashed as he was aroused. “Weird,” he muttered.
“What's weird?” Her face was wary.
“I just found out something kinky about myself. Your tough-talking bitch goddess persona really turns me on. I'm as hard as steel.” He seized her slender hand and placed it upon the aching bulge in the front of his pants. “Have pity on me,” he murmured, with a coaxing grin. “I'm desperate. I'll be good. I'll be nice. I'll do anything.”
She drew in a jerky breath, half-laughing, and measured him with her fingertips through the fabric of his pants. “That's fortunate, considering what I have in mind.”
“Want to play out my fantasy?” he asked eagerly.
She slid from between him and the wall. “I've got a better one.”
A huge grin took over his face. “By all means, let's hear it.”
“Go stand in the middle of the room,” she ordered.
He did as he was told, curiosity and arousal building up to explosive force. She began to circle him, her gaze sweeping up and down the length of his body. He turned his head to follow her.
“I'm a pirate queen, and I've conquered your vessel,” she told him. He spun around, astonished. With that sensual smile and that look in her eye, she was a creature he'd never seen before. Mysterious and unpredictable.
