LITMIR.BIZ

       Three

      A cry slipped out of Shay, panic clawing at her throat.

      The deep, thick dark pressed down on her chest like a weight, cutting off her breath.

      What was going on? What happened? Why...?

      “Camille.” The sound of that calm voice carrying an undercurrent of steel snapped her out of the dizzying fall into hysteria. Hands wrapped around both her upper arms, the grip firm, steadying. His voice and his touch grounded her, although her pulse continued to thud and echo in her head like a hammer. “Easy.” One of his hands slid up her arm, over her shoulder and slipped around the back of her neck. Squeezed. “Stay with me. Breathe.”

      She closed her eyes, as if that could block out the utter lack of light. Still, she latched on to him—his voice, his fresh yet earthy scent of wind and sandalwood, the solid density of the forearms she’d at some point clutched. Seconds, minutes—hell, it felt like hours—passed while she focused on calming her racing heart, on breathing. And soon, the sense of being buried alive started to lift.

      His hold on her arm and neck never eased.

      As the initial bite of panic slowly unhinged its jaws, the weight of his touch—the security and comforting effect of it—penetrated her fear.

      “—I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, she heard a wobbly chuckle escape her. Belatedly, she loosened her grip on him and dropped her arms. “God, I don’t... I’m not even afraid of the dark,” she whispered.

      “You have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured her.

      His hands abandoned her neck and arm, but one located and clasped her fingers. In the next instant, a pale blue glow appeared. A cell phone. The illumination barely pushed back the inky thickness surrounding them, but it highlighted his face, and relief weakened her knees. Only moments ago, she’d wanted to get as far away from him as possible. And now her eyes stung with gratefulness for his serene presence. For not being alone.

      “I need to go see if I can find out what’s going on. Here.” Holding the cell out in front of him, he carefully guided her to the couch against the far wall. Still holding her hand, he lowered her to the cushion. “Will you be all right? I have to take my cell with me to try and either get a call or text out. I promise to return in a few minutes.”

      “Of course.” She nodded, injecting a vein of steel into her voice. God, she was stronger than this. “I’ll be fine here.”

      In the cell’s minimal light, she caught his steady, measuring stare. “Good,” he said after a few moments, returning her nod. “I’ll be right back.”

      He disappeared, returning her to the dark. She focused on maintaining even breathing, reminding herself she hadn’t been catapulted into a deep pit where terrifying, malformed things lurked, eager for the chance to take a bite out of her. She really shouldn’t have watched Stephen King’s It last night...

      “Camille.”

      She jerked her head up, and once more that rush of relief washed over her as Gideon and his beautiful light appeared in front of her again.

      “Hey,” she said, unable to prevent the emotion from flooding her voice. “Were you able to find out anything?” Please let it be something fixable and short-lived, like the owner of this mansion had forgotten to pay his power bill.

      “Blackout,” he explained, tone grim, and her heart plummeted toward her stomach. “I wasn’t able to get a call out, but I was able to send and receive a couple of texts to a contact on the police force. It’s citywide. They’re advising people to remain where they are, which,” he continued, his full lips flattening for a brief second, “won’t be an issue with us. I overheard security speaking to the chef and his staff. The tech guru who owns this overcompensating monstrosity of a home installed a so-called cutting-edge security system. And with the blackout, it’s malfunctioned. We’re all locked in for the foreseeable future.”

      She expelled a pent-up breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Where was Trevor? Were he and Madison okay? What about Bridgette? Sick and in the dark? More than ever, Shay cursed leaving her phone in her car. Bridgette had warned her that her supervisor frowned on the staff having cells on them, so she’d stashed hers in her glove compartment, but now...

      “We’re going to be fine, Camille,” Gideon said, his rough silk voice dragging her away from her worried thoughts. “Most likely, the blackout will only last several hours, and hopefully the boy genius will have his system worked out by them,” he finished drily.

      In spite of the anxiety over her brother and friend that still inundated her, she snorted. “Boy genius?”

      Gideon arched a black eyebrow. “Have you seen him? He can’t be more than twenty-three. I swear, I can still smell the milk on his breath.”

      This time she snickered, belatedly palming her mouth to contain her amusement. “So you’re what? The ripe old age of thirty? Thirty-three? And if you’re here as a guest, then that means you must be at least wealthy or connected enough to have been invited. Which makes you what, Mr. Knight?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “An idle man living off his family name and money? Or a successful businessman in his own right?”

      She didn’t know him, but he struck her as the latter. There was nothing about him that screamed idle. No, the sharklike intelligence that gleamed from his dark eyes belonged to a man who forged his own path, not one satisfied with walking the one others had paved for him.

      He didn’t immediately reply, but treated her to another of his intense gazes. He seemed to peer beneath skin and bone to the soul. To her secrets. With effort, she didn’t shirk away from his scrutiny, instead notching her chin up and meeting his eyes without flinching.

      Something glinted in his gaze, and the faint light from his phone tricked her into believing it might be admiration.

      “I own and run a start-up that provides privately held companies with their equity needs. I suppose you can say we’ve been successful.”

      The vague and carefully constructed answer didn’t stop recognition from rocking her. Start-up? As in KayCee Corp start-up? He couldn’t possibly be the Gideon Knight, founder of the corporation that had taken the financial world by storm five years ago? If so, he was either exceedingly modest or being cagey with information.

      Because KayCee Corp had been more than “successful.” The electronic platform serviced major businesses, helping them track their shares with its top-of-the-line, unrivaled software. They’d recently announced their intentions to branch out and work with companies that were rolling out their initial public offerings. Though Trevor tried to keep Shay securely ensconced in the Social Development branch of RemingtonNeal Inc., their family business, she knew of KayCee Corp. Knew that Trevor desperately longed to acquire it.

      Her wig, contacts and glasses concealed her true identity, but she still lifted her fingers to her cheek as if Gideon could see beneath the camouflage. Her throat tightened. Now would be a good time to come clean about who he sat with in the dark. But something held her back. Something, hell... She could identify it even without him searching her soul.

      In that ballroom, Gideon Knight had gazed upon her with fascination, admiration...hunger. And he’d

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