Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,3

amazing time together.”

Marcus tapped something, then held out a silver tray toward Ruby.

My eyes widened more.

There were three lines of white powder on the tray.

Oh holy shit.

My heart slammed a furious beat behind my ribs. Oh my god, she’d brought me up here to do cocaine and have a threesome with her and her husband.

“Would you like some?” Ruby asked, gesturing toward the tray. “It really enhances the experience.”

Sudden panic made my mind go blank. Instead of doing the rational thing and politely declining, then walking out the door, I did the Sophie thing.

I made a mess.

Stepping backward, I jerked my hand out of Ruby’s grasp. I teetered on my heels—damn it, I’d been doing so well in them tonight—and flung my arms out for balance. My hand crashed into the tray of drugs—drugs!—and sent it flying through the air, spraying a shower of white powder all over Marcus.

Oh my god, cocaine in the air. Don’t breathe, Sophie! Don’t get it in your nose!

Ruby shouted something and Marcus staggered backward. I dove into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me.

I quickly turned the lock and put my back to the door, my breath coming in gasps. Great, I was like the dumb girl in the horror movie who ran upstairs, trapping herself in the house with the killer.

Frantically, I looked for a way out while Ruby and Marcus called my name through the door. What had I gotten myself into? Dr. Handsy Perv would have been better than this.

Well, maybe.

One of them rattled the doorknob. Maybe they’d have to get housekeeping to unlock it. I could hide in the bathroom until then. No, that wasn’t a good plan. Not that locking myself in here was good either, but at this point, I had to work with what I had.

The only other door led to a balcony.

Which gave me an idea.

After all, we were only on the second floor.

With my heart still racing and Ruby and Marcus trying to talk to me through the door, I checked the closet. There were white towels and a few fluffy pillows, but on the top shelf, I found what I was looking for.

Extra bedsheets.

I grabbed the neatly folded stack of soft cotton and madly shook it out while I darted for the balcony.

The cold air hit me and I realized that at some point, I’d dropped my coat. Too late to worry about that now. By some small miracle, my purse still hung off my shoulder, so that was something. I moved the strap over my head to the other shoulder so I wouldn’t lose it on the way down.

I glanced over the balcony. It overlooked an inner courtyard with stone-paved paths and lush landscaping. A fountain trickled, glowing with lights.

It was now or never.

I tied the sheets together, then fastened one end to the railing, hoping the knots would hold. Although I’m not what anyone would call skinny, usually I don’t mind my ample curves. But right then, I sort of wished I’d been built a little less shapely.

Oh well, too late to go on a diet now. Here went nothing.

I tossed the loose end of the sheet down and hoisted myself over the side. My shoes slipped off my feet and clattered to the ground below.

The breeze chose that exact moment to pick up, billowing the red fabric of my dress. God, that was cold. It was almost like I wasn’t wearing any—

Panties.

Which I wasn’t.

Thankfully, no one was down there.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Scratch that. There was someone down there.

I groaned. Of course there was. This was me. If something could go wrong, it would.

“Careful,” the man below me said. He had a slight Southern drawl. “You should—whoa.”

The wind whipped my dress around again, sending a chill straight up my—

Anyway.

“Stop looking up my dress. I’m trying to get down.”

“I wasn’t—” He cleared his throat. “Kind of hard to avoid.”

My feet were braced against the lower part of the balcony and my arms already burned from the effort of holding the sheet. These probably felt great to sleep on, but for escape purposes, they were really slippery.

“Are you stuck?” he asked.

I hesitated for a second. “Maybe?”

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do.” His voice was calm and commanding, and if I hadn’t been hanging off a balcony about to fall to my death, I probably would have found his accent unbelievably charming. It reminded me of Matthew McConaughey. “You’re going to let your feet drop, and you’ll slide down. Just make