Read Online The Maze (ATCOM) by Jennifer Lowery - Free Book Online

to her temple.
    “Go
ahead, shoot me. I’m not undressing in front of you.”
    “Your
wet clothes must stay out here. Your rooms are ready.”
    “Rooms?
Just what is this place, because it sure as hell isn’t the Ramada.”
    Her
questions went ignored. “Your clothes.”
    One
of the white terry cloth robes was shoved at her, another at Noah, who shrugged
out of his parka let it drop to the floor. His t-shirt followed.
    She
tore her eyes away from the broad expanse of his chest, remembering how taut
and smooth his skin had felt beneath her hands, and began undressing, glaring
at the men watching her. She had no desire to let them see her nude body. Once
out of her parka, she slipped into her robe and proceeded to take off her
clothes underneath the barrier. She carefully tucked the knife out of her boot
into her sleeve before straightening. She scowled when her red thong fell out
of her pants and landed on Noah’s bare foot.
    He
cocked an eyebrow and for the first time in her life Attie blushed. She glared
at him, daring him to say anything. He didn’t get the chance to.
    “This
way.”
    “What
about our packs?” Attie asked.
    “You
won’t need them.”
    “And
our clothes?”
    “You
won’t need them either.”
    They
were led down the corridor. The door at the end magically opened when they
approached. Attie glanced up to see a camera mounted in the corner, tracking
their movement.
    Stunned didn’t even begin to explain her reaction when they walked through the door. It
was as if they entered a luxurious living room in someone’s home. Open and
spacious, with a leather sofa and matching chairs set up in front of an
electric fireplace. A tall bookcase occupied one wall and an expensive Persian
rug covered the floor. Another door similar to the one they’d just entered sat
to the left.
    Attie’s
head pounded, her jaw ached and her mind refused to accept any of this. Carlos
had built a fortress inside a mountain. That made her very, very nervous.
    “This
way. You have two hours before dinner.”
    They
walked toward the door, which opened the same as the other. They were in
another corridor that resembled the last except for two doors on the right and
one at the end. They stopped at the first door, which opened automatically. On
remote from a control room by whoever watched through the cameras, Attie
guessed.
    “This
one is yours, Deason. You’ll find a change of clothes and all the necessary
items you need to prepare for dinner. A word of warning: there are no windows,
no locks and no way out until we come for you, so don’t waste your time trying
to escape.”
    “We’re
prisoners,” Attie said.
    “Yes,
you are.”
    Noah
was ushered into the room. Attie noticed his hesitation as he stepped through
the doorway. He sent her a look that warned her to watch her back, just before
the door slid closed. Her turn. They walked to the next room and pushed her
inside without a word.
    The
door closed. Trapped, Attie looked around at the bedroom and adjoining bath.
Her stomach plummeted to her feet. Dear God. She was in her suite in South
America.
    Everything
had been replicated, right down to the nightgown she had been wearing the night
she slipped into Seth’s room to pass him a flash drive loaded with intel she’d
gathered on Santiago. The night Seth had told her Noah was aborting their
mission. The night Santiago walked in…
    Memories
crashed in around her. Attie shoved them down and ran to the closet to throw
open the doors. Inside were rows of expensive gowns and shoes to match. They
were slinky, revealing and useless. Just the way Carlos liked them.
    Clenching
her trembling hands into fists, she moved over to the dresser and opened the
top drawer. Silk and lace panties. She slammed it closed and jerked the next
one open to find the same style bras. The third held negligees. Déjà vu hit her
like a wrecking ball and she stumbled back a step, her hand covering her mouth
to stifle a sob. Her legs went weak.