The Prey

Chapter 1

“You’re perfect. Just what we’re looking for.”

Mara blinked, not certain she had heard correctly. Hillary smiled and nodded as if Mara had spoken aloud. “You’re just the type of person we’re seeking for Pirate Island Luxury Resort & Spa. You have the experience. You’re young and single, so you won’t have a problem with moving. I must say, I admire your grit and determination, putting yourself through school, making it all on your own.” Her smile became sad as she reached across the small table to pat Mara’s arm. “Such a tragic story, Mara, losing your parents in a car accident at sixteen, no other family to speak of…” Tears actually filled the woman’s eyes.

“It’s been ten years,” Mara offered, embarrassed at the unwanted sympathy, wishing she hadn’t said anything, despite Hillary’s rather insistent probing into her background. “I miss them every day, but they’re always in my heart.” Did that sound too corny? It was true, but did it make her sound unprofessional? Sitting up straighter, she said, “I really appreciate this opportunity.”

Boy, did she! She’d only been unemployed for two weeks, but the severance package she’d received wouldn’t last much longer. What a horrible shock it had been when the owner of the small hotel she’d been successfully managing for two years informed her he’d sold the place to a large hotel chain that would be bringing in their own staff to run things. How incredibly lucky she’d been to land this interview with Wallace Hotels & Resorts, a well-established company with locations throughout North Carolina and the Outer Banks.

Presumably, Hillary Wallace, executive vice president, not to mention daughter of the owner and CEO of the company, had the authority to make a job offer whenever she wanted. Yet it was almost too good to be true—a management position at a luxury resort with an incredible benefits package and nearly double the salary she had been making.

Hillary’s smile brightened. “As I said, you’re just what we’re looking for. I’d like you to meet with Alex Carroll—he oversees operations at Pirate Island—for a final interview. My father—Mr. Wallace—will be there as well.” Her eyes moved over Mara’s face and body in an almost predatory way, making Mara uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. To hide her discomfiture, she reached for her water glass.

The waiter appeared beside them. “May I show you dessert menus?”

With a brisk shake of her head, Hillary held out a credit card without having received the bill, not even bothering to look at the man. He took the card and melted away. Her gaze still focused on Mara, Hillary said, “As soon as you’re ready, I’ll make arrangements for our private jet to fly you directly to the island. You can take a tour of the facilities and discuss details of the job with Alex. If you like what you see and he likes what he sees”—she flashed an oddly evil grin—“I don’t see why you can’t start right away.”

A private jet! Mara tried to keep her expression politely professional, though she couldn’t stop the smile of excitement that spread over her face. “That sounds great,” she said. “I could be ready in the morning, if that works.”

“It works just fine. I’ll send a driver at nine o’clock tomorrow morning to bring you to the municipal airport. Pack an overnight bag, dress casually and don’t forget your bathing suit. We’ll put you up in one of the guest suites so you can experience for yourself the luxury we offer our guests.” Hillary stood, extending her perfectly manicured fingers toward Mara.

Who said fairy tales didn’t come true?

Mara had expected Hillary to meet her at the private airport and fly with her on the short trip to the island. But when the driver dropped her in front of a small but sleek jet on the tarmac, there was no one there to greet her.

As Mara walked uncertainly toward the jet, its door lifted and a short flight of stairs was lowered. A middle-aged man in black pants and a white shirt, a pilot’s cap on his head, appeared at the top of the stairs. “Good morning,” he called down to her. “You must be Mara Stevens. I’m Captain Goddard. I’ll be flying you to the island.”

Mara hoisted her small overnight bag onto her shoulder, gripped her briefcase resolutely, and climbed the stairs. There were eight passenger seats, four to a side, upholstered in soft blue leather. “Let me help you with those.” The pilot took Mara’s overnight bag and briefcase and hoisted them into an overhead bin. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing toward the seats. “You can sit anywhere you like—you’re my only passenger today.”

As Mara buckled herself in, he pointed to the galley at the front of the jet. “We’ll only be in the air about thirty minutes, but feel free, once we’re at cruising altitude, to help yourself to a drink, snacks, whatever you want.” He gave an apologetic smile, adding, “Sorry, there’s no flight attendant on board.”