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the far end of the space, but most were around the long buffet tables that ran along the fence flanking the right side of the field.

      A girl with fiery red hair long enough to cover her bared breasts greeted them with a smile. “Welcome, Master and Lady.”

      “Thank you, Holly,” Grant said, giving the woman a soft, but chaste kiss on the mouth. “Don’t you look tempting, tonight.”

      Holly dipped her head in thanks, then turned to Brynn to place a head wreath made of grapevines on her head. “Enjoy your ev­ening.”

      “Come on,” Grant said, putting his palm against the small of her back and leading her to the food area. “If you plan to enjoy the festivities, you need to make sure you’re properly fueled and hydrated.”

      “Sounds like a sporting event.”

      He glanced down at her, his eyes glinting. “Oh, darling, this is way more vigorous than any sport.”

      She forced a smile, but her heart had taken up residence in her throat.

      When they reached the food line, Grant handed her a plate and let her go in front of him. Lavish displays of fruit, cheese, and roasted meats filled the tables along with bowls of a creamy orange punch and huge decanters of some aubergine-colored liquid. Half-dressed male and female attendants stood on the other side of the table filling glasses for guests. She pointed at the drinks and looked back at Grant. “What are these?”

      “Ambrosia and fresh grape juice.”

      An Adonis-like man clad in only a swath of material low-slung around his hips ladled some of the ambrosia into a cup for her. She thanked him, then smiled at Grant. “Bacchus may strike y’all down for having his festival with no wine.”

      He chuckled. “Rules are rules, but we are honoring the harvest. I even have vats of grapes wheeled out later so people can experience crushing them. Wine will be made on these grounds—we just won’t be the ones drinking it.”

      As attendants randomly piled food on her plate, she kept her eyes on everyone around her, scanning faces like she was looking through a line-up book at a police station. Every young blond woman caught her attention. She was seeing Kelsey everywhere and nowhere.

      When they reached the end of the buffet, Grant guided her to one of the tables at the edge of the party and excused himself to go make his rounds. She was relieved to be rid of him and put all her focus on watching every partygoer who arrived. She saw a few familiar faces—two politicians, one of the more popular Dallas Cowboy football players, the weather girl from one of the local TV networks. But no Kelsey. And thankfully, no Reid or Jace.

      As the minutes passed, the number of attendees grew incrementally and soon workers were folding up the tables to make space for all the dancing. She gave up her perch and was quickly sucked into the crowd. Bodies pressed around her and the air grew thicker—the shift in mood palpable. Fun-loving to down and dirty before she had the chance to catch her breath.

      The music increased in volume, and the beat slowed to a more sensual rhythm—one that required writhing instead of bouncing. Men and women brushed along all sides of her body, the crowd dancing as one. She squared her shoulders, determined to keep at the edges of the group so she had an escape route, but the effort was useless. Like a buoy in a churning ocean, her position was controlled by the tide around her instead of her own volition. Soon, she was so deep in the swarm that she’d lost a sense of where she was in the field.

      Then, clothes began to come off.

      All around her, people were shedding their colored togas and moving from dancing to kissing, touching. The man in front of her poured a cup of the dark grape juice over his lover’s breasts and lapped it up as it dripped down her nude body. Brynn’s blood began to rush in her ears—the collective body heat and the press of the crowd testing her hold on her panic switch.

      She moved through the crowd, desperate to find the edge of the mass again, needing air. A sea of faces and voices swirled around her, disorienting her as to which direction was the quickest way out. Her breath started coming in short gasps. Shit. Not now. Please.

      “Ooh, look, we have a shy one,” a man said next to her. “Have you lost your master, pretty girl?”

      She whipped her head around to meet his amused brown eyes.

      “Don’t be bashful, sweetie,” the woman with him offered. She slid her fingers along Brynn’s arm and teasingly tugged the one strap holding her toga up. “Join the fun.”

      “Hey!” Brynn said, batting her hand away.

      Before she realized what was happening, the man hooked a finger in the loop on Brynn’s collar and brought his mouth down on hers in an ambrosia-laced kiss. She fought to pull away but her strength was no match for his. Smooth hands glided over the thin material covering her breasts and she realized the woman had joined in.

      Fear ripped through her, and her knee jerked upward, landing squarely in the man’s crotch. He doubled over, wincing and cursing. “What the hell?”

      “Texas!” Brynn stepped back but only ran into more people, more exploring hands. Flashes of her rapist’s hands on her pressed against her mind, threatening to unhinge her. She turned frantically in the other direction and shoved her way through the horde using her safe word like a machete in the jungle. “Move! Please. Texas, Texas, Texas!”

      Thankfully, the crowd begin to ease back to let her through. She just needed air. Space. By the time she reached a break in the mass of people, her mind was buzzing with terror. Trying not to draw attention to herself, she forced herself to walk at a calm pace until she was outside the ring of firelight. Then, when cloaked in darkness again, she bolted toward a nearby tree and collapsed onto the bench beneath it.

      She leaned forward, her eyes squeezed shut, and tried to breathe past the invisible band that seemed to be tightening around her chest. God, when will this go away? Not everyone is out to hurt you. You’re acting like a fucking lunatic. Stop!

      “Not your kind of a party, huh?”

      She jolted upright, and a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.

      “Shh. Don’t want to disturb anyone’s good time.”

      She screamed beneath the grip and attempted to jerk out of his grasp, but the muffled struggle was just a whisper compared to the thumping music coming from the party.

      “Better calm down and listen. I have what you want. And she’s safe, for now. But if you don’t cooperate, I guarantee she won’t stay that way.”

      She stilled, her blood running cold.

      “That’s right. Good girl.” He ran his other hand over her bared shoulder, the scar. “So, have you missed me?”

       now

      Jace bent at the waist, hands on knees, and wheezed with yet another fit of laughter.

      Reid gritted his teeth. “Are you done yet, asshole? Because I could use a little help here.”

      Reid had tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the cuffs Brynn had secured him with. But all he had to show for it was a whole lot of sweat and a bent sofa bed frame. Jace had been his last resort before calling staff. Now, he wondered if staff may have been a better option.

      Jace coughed, trying to get a hold on his laughter. “Dude, I’m sorry. But this is funny as shit. At least she only cuffed you and didn’t stick a plug in your ass or something. What the hell did you do to inspire this?”

      Reid laid his head on the pillow and stared at the scattered papers in front of him. “She went through my bag. Saw that I’m working on an appeal for the guy who’s in jail for her mother’s murder.”

      Jace’s tone turned serious. “And you didn’t

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