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Enslave Me Sweetly

Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(33)
Author: Gena Showalter

I found two cameras, but no bugs. The ambassador of alien goodwill had replaced the deer’s eyes with round, black lenses pointed toward the bed. Whether Claudia Chow was simply a pervert who liked to watch, had nefarious reasons for wanting me under surveillance, or wanted the camera here to help “protect” me from gold lovers, I didn’t care. I renewed my determination to be cautious around her. She didn’t know my true purpose for being here, but she was going to get me inside Jonathan’s party. For that I’d endure her creepiness.

I didn’t care if she knew I’d found the cameras. I openly removed and disabled them. Picture splicing had become common years ago, so the government had made cameras like these illegal without a permit. I doubted she had a permit.

“Lord save me,” I muttered. I could handle the camera problem one of two ways. Hand the cameras to the ambassador personally with a warning not to place them in my room again, or not mention them at all.

After a moment’s debate, I decided not to mention them. I’m willing to bet she knew the exact moment I found them. If I kept quiet, she’d wonder about my thoughts, my reaction, and perhaps tread more carefully around me.

Assured now of my privacy, I began memorizing the layout of the room by sight, then with my eyes closed, learning the spacing between furniture and the length of the floor. Luc watched me curiously the entire time. She even paced beside me for a while before becoming bored and flouncing to the bed.

A time might come when I needed to navigate this room in the dark, simply to survive. I charted the best escape route, as well as a second in case the first was blocked.

Afterward, I allowed myself a lingering shower. The dry enzyme spray did not offer the same relaxing sensation as the warm, steamy water at Michael’s, but I enjoyed the feel of clean skin.

Especially now, knowing I would soon see Lucius. Knowing I would soon meet Jonathan Parker face to face. Knowing a “slave” order would soon be placed for me, and I would be stolen away, perhaps locked underground. Dirty and cold.

Soon…yes, soon.

Lucius would be attending Jonathan Parker’s party tonight. I’d see him in person. Talk to him. And I would think only of our case, I vowed. Had he learned anything new about the solar flares? About EenLi? According to Michael, the bastard still had not been spotted. It was like he’d disappeared.

Maybe he had.

Maybe, like Romeo, he’d used a solar flare to return home.

If that proved true, I’d find a way to chase him all the way to Mecca.

The spray began to sputter, so I shut the unit off and stepped from the white tiled enclosure. Heated air billowed from vents above, beside, and below me to keep me warm until I dressed. I restrapped my weapons onto my body: a small pyre-gun on the inside of my thigh, one knife, and a tiny vial of Onadyn. I never knew which I’d need, so I liked access to all three.

I decided, though, that I needed something else this time. Something more than my usual arsenal. Just in case. These were new surroundings with people I didn’t know and hadn’t followed. I locked an anklet around my ankle—an anklet that possessed hallucinogens in the shapes of diamonds.

That done, I slipped the ice-blue sheath dress over my head. The sheer material kissed my br**sts and hips, but flared freely around my calves with different lengths of scarves. I left most of my golden hair down, clipping only the sides back and out of the way with sapphire-studded combs—which also doubled as retractable blades.

“Not bad,” I muttered, studying my reflection in the mirror. Iced gold.

I’d come to loathe high heels, but I supposed I could tolerate them for tonight. Who knows? If needed, I could use the heels as a weapon. I anchored a strappy pair the exact shade of my dress onto my feet. A little mascara, a swipe of gloss. There. Done.

Luc barked her approval.

I checked my computer for a message from Colin. Nothing. I sighed. The wall clock ticked the hour. Five o’clock, two hours before the ambassador and I needed to leave. That gave me plenty of time to question her about Jonathan Parker.

Claudia, as it turned out, was a certified gossip and more than happy to tell me everything she knew about everyone she’d ever met. Our conversation lasted the entire two hours before she rushed upstairs to change for the party.

During our chat, I’d learned the following tidbits of information:

1. River Garwood preferred homemade beer to expensive champagne, although he did have an excellent wine cellar.

2. Norine Smith’s breast augmentation had left her with one breast larger than the other. The woman now wore a one-sided padded bra.

3. Jonathan Parker hated peas with a passion that could not be surpassed (perhaps this knowledge could be used if we ever decided to torture him?).

4. Gladys MacGregor, who lost all her money to bad investments and everyone knew it, had paid her dentist for her porcelain veneers with a little oral surgery of her own—performed on her knees.

I brooded over the fact that those were two hours I’d never get back. Not one of my better plans.

When Claudia rejoined me ten minutes later, she wore a shiny violet sequined dress that hugged her body. It glinted like rich oil in the light. Her hair was wrapped in a matching turban. She looked elegant. Refined.

“Claudia,” I said as she descended the stairs, “do you mind asking one of your female employees to walk Luc sometime this evening?”

“Of course.” She eyed her servant, the floating, velvety dark Martha, who nodded. “Martha will see to it. Are you ready?”

“More than I can say.”

We climbed inside the limo and made our way to Parker’s. Claudia picked up our conversation as if we’d never left off. Who knew a cozy limo with its black leather and mini-bar could be used as a torture device? I half listened, hoping there’d be information I could use.

At long last, she mentioned the name Hunter Leonn.Lucius. I perked up and adopted an expression of feigned distress and dismay.Remember, he stalked me. Abused me. An intense rush of impatience and excitement gripped me.

“Hunter Leonn, did you say?” I asked sharply, jolting forward in my seat.

“Yes,” she said, blinking over at me. Her features lit with eagerness, and she leaned toward me. “Why? Do you know him?”

I gave her the same story Lucius had given Jonathan. “He chased me relentlessly. Ruthlessly! Every time I turned, he hovered beside me. I tried to tell him I didn’t like him, that I didn’t want him in my life, but he wouldn’t listen. He refused to leave me alone.”

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