Guarding Raine Part 70

Deciding it was quicker on foot, Mac avoided the parking lot and loped around the corner.

The gallery was in sight.

Even as he caught sight of it, the lights in the building dimmed

automatically.

Cursing fluently, he put on more speed.

Raine held the heel of one red pump in her hand and childishly kicked

the rest of the shoe across the rest room.

Closing her eyes and sighing, she leaned he~avily against the wall.

This could only happen to her, she thought fatalistically.

Every other woman in the world managed to dress up occasionally without

courting minor disasters.

But when it was her turn, fate always took a satirical turn.

She'd spent the last ten minutes in here trying without result to force

the heel onto the shoe.

It was time to admit defeat.

She might have avoided this if she'd just gotten in Harold's limo, as

planned.

But she hadn't been able to resist the urge to search out Macauley.

Her intent had been to see that he joined them, but she hadn't found

him in the large room of the gallery.

Stopping in the rest room to freshen her makeup, she'd turned her ankle and neatly snapped her shoe into two useless pieces.

She slipped out of the other shoe, rescued the first from where she'd

kicked it and left the room.

She padded almost silently down the corridor, and when she got to the gallery's large room, she stopped, nonplussed.

It was completely empty.

She hurriedly checked the other rooms, the office, rest rooms and

storeroom.

All empty.

Feeling more and more like a second-cla.s.s Cinderella forgotten at the

ball, she heaved a heavy sigh and went to the door to let herself out.

She could manage to get to Sheena's herself.

It wasn't far, and the streets were extremely well lit.

However, she was going to look darn funny limping along without shoes on.

The door didn't move under her hand.

Surprised, she used more strength, pulling with all her might.

The set of front double doors remained immobile.

And then, just when she was cursing the fates, the lights went out.

The sudden blanket of darkness sent an all-too-familiar wave of panic through her.

Her reaction was as inevitable as it was avoidable.

Her breathing grew erratic, her palms clammy.

Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself.

The doorway outside the gallery remained lit.

She wasn't in total darkness.

She looked over her shoulder slowly.

The rest of the gallery was as black as a tomb.

She peered into the dim light that came through the doors, trying to

find the light switch.

She didn't see it.

Moving to the wall nearest the door, she stepped a little deeper into

the room, feeling her way on the wall.

No luck.

Stopping, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked in the

direction of the corridor leading to the office.

She knew she could find her way easily, even in the dark.

But she couldn't seem to force her feet to move.

All I have to do is get to the phone, she told herself rea.s.suringly.

I know where the phone is.

I know.

t Just move.

There's nothing here, just move, darn it.

t The first step she took felt as though she was moving underwater.

Her limbs felt heavy and lethargic.

She stopped.

Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in quick, short spurts.

She hadn't felt this panicked in a long time.

Despairingly, she wondered if just finding out who had been responsible

for the threats was going to undo all the gains she'd made through the years.

Her spine stiffened.

That wasn't going to haplSen; she wouldn't let it.

With physical effort, she forced herself to take another step, and then another.

Her progress was slow and laborious.

Halfway to the office it finally occurred to her that she hadn't had to do this at all.

Surely once everyone arrived at the restaurant, it would take only

minutes to figure out what had happened.

Someone would be coming for her.

She looked over her shoulder toward the doors.

The light seeping through them beckoned like an oasis on a desert.