by Adrian, Lara
“No, sir. UBC. It was my grandfather’s alma mater as well.” He tilted a wry look at Phillipe Rousseau. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but your father the Prime Minister and my grandfather were rivals on the soccer field in their day.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir, I’m afraid it is.” Aric grinned through the lie, thankful for the depth of Gideon’s research. “I hope you won’t hold that against me now.”
“Not at all.” The bride’s father chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Go on and enjoy the reception, both of you.”
“With pleasure, sir.”
Grinning, he took Kaya’s hand and led her away from the Rousseaus. Now that the seeds of their social groundwork had been laid, they had some time to scope out the terrain they’d be working once the reception was under way.
“Go easy on the flattery,” he murmured as they walked toward the French doors opened to the estate’s gardens. No one else was in hearing distance of him, but he was careful to keep his voice low enough for Kaya’s ears only. “It was a nice touch to mention the award, but you don’t want to be too memorable. Not that you can do much to avoid that.”
She let his backhanded compliment pass without acknowledgment. “It wasn’t flattery. Margaret Rousseau really is a talented interior designer. Her work has been on a dozen magazine covers and this most recent award was for a project she contributed to a children’s charity organization.”
Aric grunted. “Someone did their homework last night.”
She slanted him a haughty look. “I stayed up most of the night poring over Gideon’s notes. I must’ve read everything twenty times, just to make sure I wouldn’t forget even the smallest detail.”
He shrugged. “I only read the files once.”
“You can’t be serious.” Kaya stopped short and frowned at him, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “That’s either incredibly arrogant or dangerously stupid.”
He shook his head. “Genetically gifted. I’ve got an eidetic and photographic memory. If I read something or see it once, I can recall it perfectly anytime.”
She gaped mutely for a moment, then expelled a sharp breath. “Have you ever struggled over a single thing in all your life?”
“Not really.”
She rolled her eyes at his unrepentant grin. “How nice for you.”
He chuckled. “So I hit the gene pool lottery. Do you want me to apologize for that fact?”
“I don’t want you to do anything--other than not screw this up for me today.”
She started walking again and he fell in beside her. “You don’t have to worry about me, sweetheart. You and I share the same goal. I want it too badly to let it slip through my fingers.”
“So do I.”
“Good,” he said. “Then I guess we’re agreed.”
“On one thing, at least.”
They stepped through the open French doors and into the full heat of the brilliant noontime sun. Broad marble steps spilled down onto the back lawn of the mansion’s grounds like a carpet made of gleaming stone. Tables and chairs dressed up in white cloth and floral garlands peppered the thick green grass and surrounding gardens, each arranged for optimal view of the immense limestone pavilion that was the pearly jewel at the heart of the magnificent grounds.
Under the soaring dome roof, a tuxedoed twelve-piece orchestra played Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtsmusik” for an empty dance floor and what was easily hundreds of arriving reception guests. Aric and Kaya descended the steps together and were immediately greeted by one of many circulating waitstaff carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Being Breed, Aric could consume neither beyond a taste or two, but Kaya eagerly accepted one of the slender flutes.
With her glass in hand, they strolled over the soft lawn. They found a quiet spot of their own to observe the gathering and wait for the moment their target arrived. Aric scanned the hundreds of guests, silently taking stock of the faces. He was intent on his task, but he couldn’t dismiss the weight of Kaya’s brown eyes studying him over the rim of her glass.
He frowned. “What’s the matter?”
She took a sip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Just making sure you’re not going to start sizzling out here in the sun.”
His brows shot up. “Was that a joke? Why, Mrs. Bouchard, I had no idea you cared.”
She laughed, then raised the flute to her lips once more. “You’re an ass.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” Aric replied, watching with far too much thirst of his own as her delicate throat worked to swallow another sip of champagne.
She caught him staring and a flush of pink swept across her cheeks. She pressed the back of her free hand against the rising color in her face. “It does seem awfully warm out here. Maybe we should find you some shade while we wait for the happy couple to arrive.”
“Trust me, I can take the heat if you can.” He smirked when her chin lifted in defiance. “Besides,” he added, “I never squander the chance to enjoy a gorgeous day. I know too many others who can’t ever experience this gift for me to take it for granted.”
Kaya tilted her head at him, a skeptical look on her pretty face. “Empathy? That’s an unexpected twist.”
He grunted. “Hey, I may be an arrogant asshole with more blessings than I’ll ever deserve, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have enough self-awareness to recognize something extraordinary. Especially when I’m looking right at it.”
Whatever sharp retort she’d been meaning to deliver faded into silence as she blinked up at him, her gaze softening on him for the first time since they’d met.
Aric realized only now how close they stood to each other on the grass. No one to hear them, no one to intrude on them despite the sea of people milling about in all directions.
He took a breath and his senses filled with Kaya’s enticing scent, a mixture of cinnamon and roses and something more elusive. Sunshine warmed her skin and dark hair, which only intensified the fragrance that was uniquely hers. Every Breedmate had her own blood scent, and Kaya’s was wreaking havoc on Aric’s focus and control.
It wasn’t as if he was hungered for female company. He was far from a saint, but he made it a practice to avoid intimate entanglements with women bearing the teardrop-and-crescent-moon birthmark of a Breedmate. If he needed a reminder of why he kept his appetites confined to human women only, Kaya Laurent was it.
Even so, the urge to touch her was nearly overwhelming.
More tempting was the desire to kiss her again, though if he did that now, it would have nothing to do with their mission or the effort to fortify their covers.
No, if he touched her, it would be for purely selfish reasons.
And because the silent invitation in her eyes told him that she was feeling the same crackle of arousal too.
Aric swallowed on a dry throat as he fought to keep his hands fisted and still at his sides.
He couldn’t think of a worse idea than letting his attraction to Kaya overshadow his attention to their assignment. Regardless, he was on the verge of losing that argument with himself when a cheer suddenly went up from the gathered crowd.
Kaya sucked in a shallow gasp, though whether in reaction to the abrupt clamor of excitement from all around them or from relief over the timeliness of the interruption, Aric couldn’t be sure.
He swiveled away from her, adding his wooden applause to the enthusiastic greeting the newlyweds were receiving as they emerged at the top of the marble steps. Their golden-haired target, Stephan Mercier, kissed his bride to the delighted shouts of the onlookers. The groom earned an even greater cheer when he bent his beautiful bride over his arm and swept her into a smooth, swoon-worthy dip.
Aric groaned, hardly able to stifle his disdain for the suspected Opus sympathizer. Kaya, too, wore an expression of cold business as she watched the happy couple descend the stairs hand-in-hand while the orchestra segued from garden music to a jaunty rendition of the “Wedding March”.
>
Aric slid a glance at his partner. “Game on. You ready?”
She nodded, her smile as dazzling as it was determined. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 6
Unfortunately, Lucan’s advice that it wasn’t going to be easy getting close to their target had been correct. A security detail of ten grim-faced men in dark suits and sunglasses kept a close eye on both the bride and groom as they greeted some of their guests on the way to the wedding party’s table inside the pavilion.
The guards remained posted nearby through all of the endless toasts and the lavish luncheon that followed. There was no quick path for getting Mercier alone for even a few seconds, never mind the minute-plus that Kaya needed.
Which left Aric and her with one good chance to make their move.
As the orchestra conductor announced the formal introduction of Mr. and Mrs. Stephan Mercier with their first dance as husband and wife, Aric’s hand closed around Kaya’s under the table. She was sure the chaste kiss he pressed to her temple was only part of his act--just as his unexpected claiming of her mouth back in the car had been--yet that didn’t stop her pulse from skittering in her veins at the brief contact.
He smiled at their tablemates as he began to rise from his seat. “Will you all excuse us, please? The first dance is always Elizabeth’s favorite part of a wedding.”
“Yes, it is,” Kaya agreed, allowing him to assist her out of her chair while the other couples seated with them nodded absently or offered indulgent smiles.
Kaya kept her expression schooled as she and Aric crossed the garden at a deliberately casual pace. They weren’t alone. Other guests had a similar idea, no less than twenty couples converging on the covered structure where the bride and groom were slowly swaying and twirling to a romantic ballad.
Aric still held on to her hand as they approached the pavilion with its fairy tale decorations. For one disorienting moment, Kaya found it difficult to separate herself from the comfort of his touch in such a beautiful setting and the sobering gravity of what they had come here to do. She’d never dreamed of rainbows and roses, so why the sight of so much romance and fantasy made her heart flutter now, she had no idea. Nor did she want to know. Not when the rest of her was focused on her mission.
Aric led her to a spot as close as they could get to the dance floor. Then they waited and watched. Applauding and smiling as the mother of the groom and the father of the bride took their turns dancing with their children.
Finally, it was time for the guests to join the celebration on the dance floor. Smoothly, with as much stealth as a skilled assassin, Aric took her in his arms and glided with her into the crowd. Although he managed to make their pursuit look accidental, in no time at all Kaya found herself dancing directly behind Stephan Mercier and his bride.
Aric lowered his head in a nearly imperceptible nod, the only warning she had before he backed her right into the groom.
“Oh, my goodness!” Kaya exclaimed. She staggered awkwardly, pivoting around to apologize. “I’m so sorry. Pardon us, please.”
Mercier merely grinned, still swaying with his arms around his bride. “No problem at all. I’m sure it was my fault.”
“Not so fast,” Aric interjected with a chuckle when it appeared Mercier would have carried on without further conversation. “We’ve been watching the two of you dance. From what I’ve seen, the only one here with two left feet is me. Stasi, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
Her brow pinched as she tilted a quizzical look on him. “Thank you... ah...”
“Will.” Aric gave her a charming smile. “Will Bouchard. From UBC. It’s all right if you don’t remember. We only had a few classes together.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, politely taking his bait even though her warm eyes held no recognition whatsoever. “Of course, I remember you, Will. How nice that you came.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He grinned, flicking a warm glance at Kaya. “This is my wife, Elizabeth.”
Mercier’s new bride nodded. “Very nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Kaya said. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“Thank you. I hope you and Will are enjoying yourselves so far?”
Kaya glanced adoringly at Aric, resting her palm lightly against his cheek for added effect. “We certainly are.”
He went still as her touch lingered, his face taking on a dangerous edge. Faint embers crackled to life in the green depths of his eyes as he stared at her, but then he blinked once and they were gone. He tore his gaze away from Kaya to look at Mercier.
When he spoke, his voice sounded thick and rusty. “Would you mind terribly if I cut in for the rest of this song? I was telling Stasi’s father as we came in that I hoped we’d have a quick chance to catch up.”
Kaya saw their target’s hesitation and she hurried to set the hook. “Oh, Will. They just got married. Let them enjoy their time together.”
“No, no. It’s okay,” Anastasia said. “I’d love to dance with you, Will. And I’m sure Stephan will enjoy dancing with Elizabeth too.”
“Of course.” Mercier’s lips stretched in a tight semblance of a smile, but his eyes remained shrewd and untrusting as his wife stepped into the arms of another man.
Little did he know, at the moment it was Kaya who posed the bigger threat to his happiness. If the Order’s suspicions proved true about Mercier’s support for Opus Nostrum, his glittering world would soon come crashing down around him.
With Aric whisking Anastasia into the growing crowd on the floor, Kaya slipped her hand into Mercier’s and placed her other on his shoulder. He steered her into a mechanical series of steps as the orchestra played and the pavilion swelled with even more people.
Where Aric had been strong and assured as he’d held her, Mercier’s palm was moist against her fingers, his lean body stiff and distracted as he pushed her around the dance floor. Kaya didn’t need the psychic confirmation of her Breedmate ability to tell her that Stephan Mercier was a nervous, agitated man.
Although he’d appeared poised and confident with his bride at a distance, up close it was clear that his mind was a thousand miles away. Kaya only needed to touch him for a few more seconds before she could follow his thoughts to wherever they led. Until then, her main goal was to put him at ease with her long enough for the connection to take root.
She smiled up at him as they waltzed past the small orchestra. “Thank you for indulging my husband’s request to dance with your wife. I promise I’m trying very hard not to embarrass myself by stepping on your toes again.”
Mercier’s rigid face relaxed just a bit at her self-deprecation. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re doing just fine. Would you like me to tell you a secret, Elizabeth?”
“Yes.” Kaya hoped her reply didn’t sound too eager. She intended to know all of the man’s secrets before she was finished with him.
“Dancing’s not really my thing,” he confided. “Anastasia put me through eight weeks of lessons in the hopes I’d come to enjoy it, but I can still think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing.”
Did that explain some of his distraction? Kaya couldn’t say for sure. Not until she managed to get inside his head, that is.
She laughed in response to his harmless little admission. “Well, have no fear. Your secret is safe with me.”
At least, that one was.
“Hopefully there won’t be any formal dancing required on your honeymoon in Seychelles,” she added, then immediately wondered if she’d gone a step too far when Mercier’s blond brows lowered over questioning eyes.
“You know where Stasi and I planned to honeymoon?”
Shit. Maybe she’d studied the operation intel a bit too closely.
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t think I’m being rude.” Kaya used her momentary awkwardness to full advantage while she formulated her answer. “It’s just that many of the big social sites and magazines have been talking about this wedding in detail for
weeks. It was kind of hard to miss all of the gossip.”
“Ah.” He grunted in acceptance. Thank God.
“Actually, the honeymoon has been postponed,” he volunteered. “Some business has come up that requires my attention here at home. Seychelles will have to wait, much to my bride’s dismay.”
And so what if Anastasia is barely speaking to me since she found out? Does she really think I’m going to walk away from a deal worth a hundred million dollars? The privileged little bitch will certainly be eager to help me spend it.
Kaya swallowed. She had anticipated the moment her mind would infiltrate his, but it still came as a shock to feel the jolt of Stephan Mercier’s thoughts speaking in her head as clearly as his voice.
It took some effort to pretend otherwise while she was trapped in his gaze.
“Oh. What a shame,” she murmured casually. “But I’m sure whatever you have to do is quite important.”
He gave her a mild nod. “Yes, it is.”
Important? You have no idea. No one does, not even Stasi. She wouldn’t understand. Probably not even a hundred million dollars would be enough to make her understand.
In time, she will. I’ll make sure of that.
In time, the whole world will understand.
Then they’ll all recognize me as a hero. But better than that, I’ll be as rich as a goddamned king.
Kaya kept her expression mild, even as a chill swept over her. Although he hadn’t yet incriminated himself in anything other than the prospect a lucrative, if ill-timed, business deal, Stephan Mercier was obviously not the golden, charming man he appeared to be on the outside. That alone didn’t mean he was linked with Opus Nostrum.
The prickling in her marrow nearly had Kaya convinced, but that wouldn’t be enough for Lucan Thorne or the Order. She needed to dig deeper for solid confirmation, and that meant she was going to have to push Mercier harder.
And fast.
Their dance would be ending soon. When it did, there would be no second chance to get this close to him again. Not without his new bride or any one of dozens of the estate’s security personnel standing in her way. Even now, she was well aware of the team of men in dark suits lurking in various points of the pavilion, keeping a careful watch on the Rousseaus’ cherished daughter and the man who’d just married into their politically powerful family.
