W\\CKED

Curves So Sexy

[Sanny]

The lights flickered on when we entered the garage, unveiling the fleet of vehicles used by Blythe employees to escort clients all over the east coast: smart limos with evasive response programming; explosion-proof SUVs that Abrams fondly referred to as "bulldozers"; and the combat-ready, military-grade Hummer he technically didn't own, since it wasn't technically legal for a private citizen to own one (not that he let technicalities like the law get in his way).

"Aren't we taking a limo?" Juliet asked as we passed one.

"I wanted your dad to think we were."

At the very end, we found what I was really looking for: Abrams's latest and most expensive acquisition, a concept car that shined like polished silver. It had curves so sexy I wanted to drape myself over the hood like a preening swimsuit model and whisper sweet nothings to its mirrored windshield.

"My father will ground me for a year if we take the concept," Juliet whispered.

"Like being grounded is all that different from your normal life." I pulled a silver power fob out of the hidden pocket sewn into the folds of my skirt. The Blythe corporate symbol was stamped on the surface.

"How did you get that?" Juliet asked.

"Raquel."

"The mechanic's daughter?"

"I convinced her to give me a tour of the garage's inventory last night. By the time we ran out of back seats to test, she was too worn out to count the fobs." I winked.

Juliet blushed, always a shy bird when it came to hearing about other people's hookups.

I clicked the fob. The concept purred softly to life. Even the impossible-to-impress Kaydrien Singh would be oh-so-impressed when we arrived at the concert in a car that didn't exist yet.

When I slid into the driver's seat, the dash warmed to a gentle glow. "Hello, precious," I cooed.

"Voice unauthorized. Scan engaged," the car replied in a clipped female voice.

Juliet glanced at me nervously from the passenger seat. "Scan?"

The doors locked. "Passengers unauthorized. Lockdown engaged."

I told myself not to panic. And then the garage alarm started shrieking.

I searched frantically for a button that would reverse the locks, but there were no controls of any kind—not even brakes or a stick shift. It occurred to me too late that it was entirely self-driving.

Juliet slid lower in her seat. "Sanny..."

I looked up. The car was surrounded by a half dozen ebony-suited Blythe employees, their semi-automatic weapons at the ready. With a rush of fear, I realized they couldn't see who was in the car because it had mirrored windows.

Griffin stepped up to the driver's side, gun at the ready. He unlocked the door with a fob of his own. Then with a quick jerk, he yanked it open.

I gave him a coy smile. "Miss me?"

Griffin instantly lowered his gun. He motioned at the others. "Back to your posts. I've got this." As they left, he tapped the ear cuff he was wearing with his finger. "Call Abrams." Then he said to me in a low voice, "He's going to hang you by your fingernails."

"Before you bring your boss into this..."

His eyelids narrowed, clearly sensing my impending blackmail. "Pause call."

"...aren't you going to ask where the bodyguard is?"

"What did you—"

"He's locked in my closet," Jul confessed.

"And if you don't want your boss to know how he ended up there," I added, "which could get him fired, because it is kind of humiliating..."

"Sandra, I swear—"

"Poor Juliet is really tired of having to learn a new bodyguard's name every other week. Maybe we could keep this one. What do you say?"

"You're going to get in as much trouble as him. You can forget your plans for tonight. Abrams might even ban you from the grounds for this."

I soured at the thought.

Then Griff made a counter-offer. "Take Ken with you."

"I'm not sure he's in any condition to go with us," I hedged.

"Assuming I can get him into condition, if you swear never to sneak out of the estate again without him, I'll let this incident slide."

"So you want me to promise long-term job security for your boyfriend."

"What I want..." He leaned a well-muscled arm against the rim of the door frame above me. "...is to assure you don't go mooching about unprotected with the heiress of a multi-billion dollar corporation."

He was serious. I didn't like Serious Griffin. He was Asshole Abrams's right-hand man and had a hell of a lot more cache than I did. "I suppose we could squeeze him in the back seat."

"You're not taking the concept." He held out his palm. "You can't get past the security system."

I handed over the fob, defeated.

Griffin called the boss. "All clear. Ken triggered the alarm system accidentally." He glanced at me. "The boy's still learning how to handle his job."