by Lexy Timms
Dani’s head jerked around. She studied her father uncertainly. “I do?”
“You do,” her father echoed, in no uncertain terms. “Look at it this way: it directly affects you. That is your priority, is it not? You, then David, and the rest of the world be damned? Well, this is about you both. Stick around and keep out of the way.”
Definitely not a request. Dani swallowed hard and nodded. Despising him. Despising that he could still make her feel this way after all these years, after everything she’d been through, after everything she’d done…
Marcus came up behind him and whispered in her father’s ear. Dani watched his expression change from frustration to one of surprise. For a moment her father looked at David, and then glared at her. Surprise turned to anger, and he nodded at Marcus.
“Come with me!” Her father grabbed David’s arm and pulled him from the ballroom into a hallway. Just like that, gone. Like she was nothing to him after all.
I should’ve expected that.
The hell with this.
Dani looked around for the man she’d noticed earlier, wanting an escape. A flirtation. Something. Anything to take the bad taste out of her mouth. But he was gone. Like Katie, he’d simply…disappeared.
Dandy. The only interesting people in the place and her father had scared them away.
She strode behind the bar, ignoring the protestations of the bartender, and grabbed an unopened bottle of scotch and stormed out. Behind her from the stage, she heard Marcus calling out, “LADIES AND GENTELMEN!”
Fucking announcement. Who gave a damn? She escaped into the hallway. Looked for a doorway, some way out.
A conference room. Perfect.
She stormed into the room, slamming the door shut behind her hard enough to cause the chandelier overhead to start swaying.
It was a long moment before she realized the music had stopped playing.
Chapter Two
Luke slammed his phone shut, though whether it was from a fear of being caught or a fear of being seen with a cheap burner phone was hard to say. It did give him an odd pleasure to slam the phone down, as it were, on his boss.
Then the girl walked in, which was as badly put as saying the sun was up. The girl, the one and only one he had even seen at this mind-numbing collection of sycophants, slammed into the room, leaving a whirlwind to mark her passage. She smashed a bottle down on a table so hard it was a wonder it didn’t shatter on the spot. With a wild animal cry, she turned gracefully and punched the air. It was a good punch. He stared at the door, half expecting to see her intended target coming into the room, but it remained closed. Nothing stirred.
She stood a long moment, shoulders heaving as though she’d run a race. One hand came up to tangle in the glorious flow of blond hair that cascaded nearly to her waist. Turning, she fell into a chair. With a shaky breath she opened the bottle and stared into it. She had a haunted look in her eyes, some deep pain that seemed so much a part of her that it was etched into every line of her face.
He caught his breath, the urge to step forward, to ease that sorrow, so strong that it took great willpower to stay where he was in the shadows.
I can’t be caught here.
He’d have to wait her out.
Her hands lay flat on either side of the bottle; thin with long, tapered fingers, no polish, and trimmed short. It looked as though she was trying to prevent the table from floating off into the air, she pressed down so hard. After a moment of staring deeply into the amber bottle, breathing the vapors of the whiskey, she stood, her body in a tight, controlled stance.
Then, in a burst of motion, she picked up the bottle, and with a grunt flung it against the back wall. It flew straight and true. It didn’t even spin, a glass missile. It hit the wall flat and solid, and shattered in a brilliant explosion of glass and alcohol. It was like watching fireworks sideways.
And had come dangerously close to his position.
Maybe it’s better to make my escape now, rather than be discovered later.
“Excuse me,” he said, stepping out from behind the stacked chairs and tables. She’d already turned away, and at his voice she spun around to face him. Luke had seen a lot of people in his line of work who had been startled, scared, surprised. Some screamed, some jumped. She cocked her fists and took a fighting stance.
She was beautiful.
And obviously trained in martial arts.
“Who the hell are you? Do I know you?”
“I doubt it,” Luke said and found a hint of regret in that admission. He found himself wishing she did know him and that he knew her. And if knowing was in the biblical sense, well, so much the better.
“I saw you earlier,” she said, relaxing her stance. “You were at the party.”
“Luke,” he said, and held out his hand.
She hesitated, staring at the proffered hand. He held it steady, refusing to be the one to break off first in this odd battle of wills. She finally relented and took his hand in hers. Her grip was relaxed, but under the pressure of her palm he could feel the muscle of her forearms, and knew that she could give him a run for his money in arm wrestling.
“Dani.”
No clues as to where she fit into this little gathering. No way to categorize her. His gaze dropped to her jeans. “Do you… work here?”
She dropped his hand like it caught fire. “NO!” She took a shaky breath and looked at him, though her gaze had lost any pretense at friendliness. “No, I don’t work here.”
“Well, you have to admit you’re a little casual for this crowd…”
“I’m not a part of this crowd. That’s the point.”
Luke nodded, feeling a little like he’d tumbled into a rabbit hole and wasn’t sure if he was talking to Alice or the Queen of Hearts. This is nuts. You’re wasting time. This is a distraction, and you cannot afford a distraction right now. You’ve worked too hard for this.
Despite the warning bells going off in his head, all his mouth could do was smile and blather. “Can I get you anything? Ice? Water? Mop and a bucket?” He nodded to the far wall that had rivulets of scotch running down the wallpaper.
She turned to glance at the mess and smiled. For as long as that smile stayed on her lips, the little voice in his head subsided in reverie. Golden hair, slightly triangular face, full lips, and bright teeth gave her a beauty that her passion and fierceness turned feral.
Oh shit, I am in so much trouble.
“Yeah, well… I don’t drink. Anymore.” She had the grace to look a little awkward. Ashamed? “But I still use it to relax me.”
This time it was his turn to laugh.
“I guess I walked in on you, didn’t I?”
“I was trying to find a quiet place to make a call,” he said, nodding to the stacked tables he’d been behind. It seemed suspicious now that he thought about it. A man would have used the room openly to make any kind of call that was legit. Who parked behind tables and chairs? He’d been acting overly paranoid.
He prayed she didn’t make that connection.
“Sorry,” Dani said, turning toward the door. “I’ll go and let you have your privacy.”
“No need,” he said quickly, and mentally stepped on himself for speaking a little too quickly. “I mean, I already made the call.” He shrugged. “I hung up as you came in.”
She hesitated, as though debating the merits of returning to the party versus staying and talking to him. He found himself hoping she’d stay. “So, what is it that you do, Luke?” The question was one of cautious interest.
Why did that feel so much like victory? “I’m a financial analyst.” The lie came smoothly, well-practiced.
“Nice to meet you.” One side of her mouth curled up in wry amusement. “And I’m a ballerina with the circus.”
“You don’t think I’m an analyst?”
“I think you probably need one,” Dani replied with a shrug that spoke volumes. “But then, most of the people around here are in desperate need of head-shrinking.�
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“Why do you suppose that is?” Luke grabbed a chair and motioned for her to resume the seat she’d had before. She looked at him a moment, weighing her options, then sat, not getting too comfortable, he noted. She perched on the edge of the chair, ready to fly the instant he said the wrong thing.
He found himself desperate to say the right thing.
“You’ve heard the saying ‘power corrupts’?” she asked suddenly, her eyes meeting his.
He found himself trapped in the ocean of her gaze. Challenged. Daring him to follow her down this path. “…and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The words came automatically.
“And these… people… those… whatever…” she waved dismissively at the door and all the party-goers beyond the portal. “They’re all here to get power, to find it, to increase it. The people out there, they’re selling their souls in order to be corrupted. That’s insane. Thus, they need a shrink.” She leaned back, her right leg stuck out, her left tucked behind her. She could leap to her feet in a moment’s notice. “So what’s your story, analyst?” she asked, her arms crossing under her breasts. “Why does an analyst need an analyst? Are you power-hungry?”
“No.” He smiled. “I don’t need power. I just like being in charge.”
“I’ll bet.” Dani laughed. “All right, analyst,” she sighed, and stood. Retreating. Luke stood with her. Loath to let her go. “I’ve taken enough of your phone call space, and since I seem to be more relaxed after my drink, I’ll get out of your hair and leave you to your room.”
“As I said, I’m done with my call.”
“And I’m done with my drink,” Dani reminded him. “I’ll see you on the financial analysis couch.”
Luke nodded. “I can’t wait for Swan Lake under the big top.”
They walked in companionable silence to the door. Luke was reaching for the knob, when the door exploded inward, showing a man in dark suit carrying a gun the size of a Howitzer, overkill even for this crowd.
He pointed at them. It would have been less unsettling if he hadn’t been using the gun to point. “SHELTER IN PLACE!” he snapped. “Active shooter.”
Luke had closed the door before he realized it. He stood at the side of the door, his back against the wall, his right hand reaching into his jacket for the gun he didn’t have with him. In that moment his mind informed him that this girl might have seen him react, that he might have just blown his cover. He glanced at her, but she had her back against the wall on the other side of the door, her hand at the small of her back, reaching for something she couldn’t find.
They looked at each other and then turned as one to the single window. They were three flights up. Flashing blue and red lights were strobing through the glass.
“I’ve got to find my brother,” she whispered.
“They’ll take you out that way.” Luke nodded the window.
“Do you have a better idea?” She moved in a short circle, a caged lioness denied her prey.
“Staying put is the best idea.”
“But…”
“No buts. If your brother stays still, he’s okay. There are armed guards everywhere at this party. If you run around, especially dressed like that, you’re going to get shot.”
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“You don’t blend in.”
Her chin came up, eyes flashing fire. “Why should I?”
“Well, right now it would help keep you from getting shot.”
The set of her jaw and the glare at least showed him that she was listening.
“No one is going to get shot unless they’re obviously out of place. Searching for something. Your brother needs to lay low for a few minutes, and so do you.”
Dani re-crossed her arms and leaned heavily on the wall. “I can’t just stand here.”
“Then we’ll sit down,” Luke said, reasonably and indicated the chairs they’d just left.
Dani looked at him for a long moment. “You do like being in charge, don’t you? You’re enjoying this.”
“I happen to like not being shot,” Luke replied. “And some of those rent-a-cops seem awfully pleased to wear a weapon.”
“Children,” Dani said. “Every last one of them.”
“Infants.”
“Idiots.”
“Morons.”
“Morons? Really? That’s the best you can do?”
“How about ‘an embossed carbunkle’?”
Dani smiled. “I think I rather like you, analyst.”
“I’m honored, tiny dancer.”
“Don’t ever say that again.” Dani’s face grew serious, but there was a wicked gleam in her eye.
Chapter Three
He tried to draw. No damn financial analyst tries to draw a weapon when confronted with a shooter.
He was cute, he was funny, he was even charming. But he was also a liar. Introducing himself as some bookkeeper was a lie as bald as her Aunt Maureen. So, yeah. Right. When confronted by an active shooter, he’d reached for what, a calculator? A fountain pen?
I’m wasting time with this. If someone is trying to break in with a gun, I need to get to David.
Dani found herself pacing the conference room. The high heels were annoying, and if she had to move quickly they’d just be in the way. She kicked them off and went barefoot.
She bent down to pick them up and glanced between her legs. He was watching her, checking her out. She stood and thought for a moment and spun, flinging a shoe at him, the way she’d flung the bottle at the far wall. It was a risky move; the shoes were overpriced and if he damaged it, she’d have to go home barefoot through the streets of Atlanta. But it was the best test she could think of.
He caught it.
“Financial analyst, my ass!”
He motioned her to silence.
Okay, fine she’d give him that. She moderated her volume, but increased the tone to compensate. “You’re no pencil-pusher!” she snapped at him in a breathy whisper as she came back alongside him. “You’re one of those stupid frat-boy bodyguards!”
He handed her the shoe. At least she didn’t have to walk through the hotel barefoot after all.
“No. I’m not one of them.”
“Right, like I should believe that?” Freakin’ A! She hated whispering like this. “Admit it, you’re more used to a gun than a pen. Your amazing reflexes just proved it!”
“Thank you.”
That he’d managed to snap the two words at her with that level of sarcasm and do it all in a whisper was impressive, to say the least.
She wasn’t about to be impressed. “You’re welcome!”
“You’ve got a good arm,” he said, and made a show of rubbing the palm that caught her shoe. A peace offering. Interesting.
She gave him a look. “Lots of practice.”
“I’m not in the security group.” He sounded raspy. His voice was suffering the strain of screaming in whispers, same as her.
“No.” Dani took a step back, crossing her arms and giving him a slow assessing look, raking her eyes over his body in a way that took the time to catalogue the broad shoulders and speculate as to just how firm a six-pack he carried under his shirt. “I can see that. You’re competent. Those guys are idiots. So who the hell are you?”
He gave her a look, all insulted innocence. “Me? This from the prettiest girl in the room who dresses to prove she’s not a part of this crowd? How dare you?”
“Pretty?” The word slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Yes!”
“What the hell do my looks have to do with anything?” Dani’s voice was starting to give under the pressure of whispering so loud. She balled her fists and fairly jumped in place with the effort of keeping her voice down. “And…thank you.”
“Nothing, except that someone who stands out like you do doesn’t need to dress for attention. I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. Every male eye in the place is already on you. Yet here you are, parading around just about s
creaming ‘Look at me.’” He waved his hands around, coming very close to hitting the door. “And you’re welcome!”
“And you? What about you? Huh? You with your… thick, wavy hair, your barrel chest and muscular arms? You move like a cat, and you think I’m stupid enough to think you add numbers all day?”
“Well, thank you for noticing!”
“You’re welcome!” She reached over and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She shouldn’t have been able to pull him off balance, but she’d surprised him. It took every trick she was ever taught, it was like pulling down a tree, but she was able to get him in close. He reached behind her head and grabbed a fistful of her hair, drawing her head back, forcing her to look up at him.
Her lips crushed his, but his tongue broke free and penetrated her mouth. His hand moved behind her head to pull her in further, but she used the leverage she had on his suit coat and pulled him to the side so that she could retaliate with her tongue on his. It was crazy, a fight to the finish, though she had no idea who was winning. She made a soft sound as his lips plundered hers… no, her lips plundered his… did it matter? They broke free, gasping for breath. Not looking at each other. No…studiously avoiding looking at each other.
The roughness of his cheek felt surprisingly good against hers, and she moved her hand from his lapel to his waist. He shifted his grip to her lower back and she raised her leg to wrap around him. He’d regained his balance, and she started to climb him like a maypole as his hand cupped her buttocks in helpful assistance. Her fingers dug into his flesh, she couldn’t get close enough. Damn, those lips…
The door opened and they broke off, springing apart, landing facing the door, each one with fists raised and poised to kick or strike or bite. No way in hell was she going down without a fight.
It had to be the most junior member of the security staff. He looked all of twelve, all acne and panic. He backed away, holding up his hands. The expression on his face, already stupid with surprise, if anything became a little more vacant, mouth dropping open without the benefit of any words falling out.
