"Sara Sheridan waited with nervous anticipation, and when her husband turned away to network with the senator and his wife, she made her move. Excusing herself from her half- hearted discussion on the state of the economy with old Judge Perkins, she edged out of the dining room and hurried down the dimly lit hallway, ignoring the condescending stares from Tom’s ancestors lining the walls in their expensive frames.

Knees quaking now she’d in fact committed to her plan, Sara slid the key borrowed from his nightstand into the lock, entered his office and pulled the heavy oak door closed. Flipping on the lights she froze as his mahogany desk loomed out of the darkness. Forcing her stiff limbs to move across the room, the pungent scent of his tobacco violated her nostrils. She wanted nothing more than to run, fast and far. But couldn’t, not yet. Rolling his heavy leather chair out of the way, she slid her fingers across the keypad to wake his computer. Password protected, she’d expected that. Pulling a list from her pocket, she started at the top, working her way down.

Nothing. Please, please, plea…

The screen changed, signaling success.

Yes.

Her eyes slid shut in a brief moment of gratitude. Knowing she had to hurry Sara grasped the thumb drive Fiona had smuggled in to her and plugged it in. A quick search brought no results.

Now what?

Frustrated, she entered random words from the password list.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Crap.

Covert stuff wasn’t her forte. Sweaty hand sticky on the mouse, her ragged breathing loud in the otherwise silent room, she keyed in one last word.

Phoenix.

The screen switched and a list of names, dates and times appeared. She’d done it. Excitement skittered up her spine. The download took the longest minute of her life. When it was done she shut everything down, replaced his chair and turned to leave. Then a muffled thud out in the hall just about stopped her heart. She wasted precious seconds staring at the closed door wishing herself invisible, before frantically searching for a place to hide. There were heavy velvet drapes covering the windows, they’d have to do. Praying her dust allergies wouldn’t give her away, she hid between the folds, clenching the edges of the fabric in her hands. Kicking herself seven ways to Sunday for leaving the key in the outer lock, she held her breath when the door opened, praying it wasn’t Tom.

It wasn’t. Belinda, Jessica’s nanny, entered and sauntered across to the leather sofa along the opposite wall.

What is she doing?

Searching among the pillows she smiled in triumph, pulling a pink bit of nothing from between the plump cushions. She was just pushing the material into the cleavage of her skin-tight dress when Sara’s worst nightmare came true, Tom snarled from the open doorway.

“What are you doing in here? I told you to go upstairs and find my wife. Our guests are preparing to leave.” He stomped across the room and snatched Belinda up by the arm, jerking her against his chest. “What are you hiding?” Pushing her hand away he shoved his fingers down the front of her dress and withdrew the scrap of cloth still peeking from between her breasts.

“Tom, please. I only wanted to find those before the staff or your wife found them. Let me go. You need to get back to the party. Everyone will be looking for you.” Though her voice betrayed her nervousness, she still flirted with him through her lashes.

He crushed the silk, giving a sneering laugh as he bunched his hand into her blonde hair. “Do you really think I give a shit if anyone finds some thong? I’ve told you before not to come in here without me. I won’t tell you again.” His voice was a dark omen in the twilit room. He dropped his head to hers in a punishing kiss that swiftly changed to passion when Belinda’s arms and legs wrapped around him as if she was riding a stripper pole.

After long minutes that seemed to last forever to Sara, she broke away with a sultry laugh and backed through the open door, her finger crooking a follow-me message. Tom hesitated, his gaze scouring the room before he slowly followed, closing the door behind him.

Sara remained hidden; her heart pounding. Even though Tom’s actions had long ago managed to erase any of the tender feelings they’d ever shared, it hadn’t made this scene any less repugnant.

Finally deeming it safe she inched her way back to the door, pressing her ear against the smooth wood.

Silence.

She turned the brass knob, grateful it slid open and hurried to her room, her mind already filled with the next step of her crazy plan.

Escape.