by Lora Leigh
Emily nodded jerkily.
"Remember to stay close to me. I want you covered at all times. If you have to go to the ladies' room, Kira will go with you. Ian and I will stay close to the doors in that event. Reno and the others are close by and will stay in close proximity to us."
Emily gripped her small purse as she stared back at him, drawing strength from him. "We're just going to enjoy the party." He kept his voice calm, the steady timbre easing her nerves. "Ready?"
She nodded quickly.
Below her dress, low on her back, was a small circular piece of skin-toned tape that he called a skin tag. Just in case they were separated, he told her. He had taken every precaution to protect her, yet an awareness of the danger enfolding her did nothing to comfort her.
Emily inhaled deeply as the limo door opened. Kell stepped out first, then extended his hand inside to her.
Emily moved from the limo, keeping her head up as heads turned and she recognized more of the faces than not. She knew these people. She had gone over the guest list with Kell and Ian, and realized that most of the names listed, she had known most of her life. She couldn't believe that one of them could be a killer or a spy, or God forbid, an international terrorist. No, the elusive Mr. White and his terrorist counterpart Sorrell had to be crashing the party. Which would be too easy to do with this crowd.
Gripping Kell's arm, she followed him up the wide steps to the landing and entered the spacious marble foyer. Chandeliers glowed with brilliant light overhead, crystal prisms storing and reflecting the glow back tenfold, increasing her feeling of vulnerability. Anyone, everyone could see her.
"Miss Emily Stanton and Mr. Kellian Kreiger," the doorman announced loudly as they entered and Kell handed him their invitation.
Great. No way to sneak in here.
"Emily. Kell." Their host and hostess, Markwell and Catherine Andover, were in their forties. Markwell was nearly six feet, with calm brown eyes and thinning brown hair. His wife, Catherine, stood a few inches shorter in her heels and had short red hair and cool light blue eyes. Emily had never cared much for Catherine, but the Andovers had contributed heavily to her father's election fund and they were influential within the political and financial circles her father frequented.
"Markwell." Emily accepted his kiss on her cheek as she held back an instinctive dislike of him. He was a shark, and took every opportunity to touch where he shouldn't.
This time, though, he kept his hands at her shoulders before moving back and shaking Kell's hand.
"Catherine." No problems here. The other woman air-kissed her cheek with enough distance to assure Emily that the other woman thought as much of her as she thought of Catherine.
"It's so nice to see you, Emily," Catherine drawled. "You missed our last few parties. We worried the kidnapping had adversely affected you."
And how the hell was it supposed to affect her?
Emily smiled coolly. "I've just been busy, Catherine," she assured her.
"Ah yes, school is out and you dabble in writing, don't you, dear?"
Emily kept her smile pasted on her face. "Or something," she agreed.
"And Kellian Kreiger." Catherine turned to Kell, her catlike smile grating on Emily's nerves then as her gaze flickered over Kell's chest and thighs. The witch. She was coming on to him and Emily didn't like it in the least.
"Mrs. Andover." Kell accepted her hand before lifting it and brushing a gentlemanly kiss across her knuckles. "It's a pleasure."
"It's been too long since we've seen you, Kell." She sighed. "You don't attend enough of the little events we're invited to."
"I've been busy." Kell's voice was cool.
"Ah yes." Catherine's smile curled with a hint of maliciousness. "The Kreiger heir risking his neck as a SEAL. It's a shame."
"If you'll excuse us, Catherine." Emily curled her fingers around Kell's arm. "I see some friends I'd like to talk to."
She drew Kell away from their host and hostess, aware of the tension in his body.
"You know them?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
"Friends of the Beaulaines and Kreigers." His voice was cold, scathing. She had a feeling that wasn't a compliment where he was concerned.
"So you come to the parties often?" she asked as they moved into the large ballroom.
"Sometimes." He was in SEAL mode. Tense, prepared.
"Are you this relaxed at all of them?"
He dipped his head closer to hers. "No, I'm usually holding up the wall and cussing Reno for making me accept the invitation."
"Hmm, yes, I should have made a point to attend more parties." She nodded as she let a smile pull at her lips. "I would have shown you how it's done."
"And how's it done?" There was no accent now, but his voice still had the power to make her stomach clench in warning arousal.
"You don't hold up the walls, you hold up the trees in the gardens." She snickered. "They're easier to hide within."
His hand tightened at her hip, but as she glanced up, she saw the smile that tugged at his lips.
"I could have helped you hold up the trees," he murmured as they began to make their way through the crowd. "Though, to be honest, had we been caught, we could have been arrested."
"I doubt it," Emily whispered in reply. "I watched a lot of shadowy freak shows in those gardens, Kell. No one ever got caught."
He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck as he stared at her in surprise. "God, you terrify me. You're not supposed to watch."
At that, Emily stopped and stared up at him with an expression of such false innocence that he only shook his head.
"Remind me to spank you."
Emily sighed. "I keep being bad and you never take the hint. Do I need to take out an advertisement?"
She loved the way his eyes darkened at that, the way they roved over her face, her breasts, then moved back to meet hers with wicked intent.
"I won't forget again."
"Kell Kreiger!" Disbelief filled the feminine squeal that came from Kell's right. Emily felt him stiffen again, watched his gaze turned cold just before he turned to greet one of the few people Emily actually detested.
Tabby Deaton.
"Kell. Oh, my God, it's been too long."
Emily stared at the designer original evening gown slit nearly to the top of Tabby's thighs and riding low on her obviously fake breasts. Emily heard Tabby had gotten a boob job, she just hadn't believed it.
Tabby's dark hair flowed around her shoulders and framed her pale face and glistening red lips. Plump red lips. Damn. Tabby had had her lips done too.
"Tabby." Kell nodded coolly.
Tabby glanced at Emily. "Why, Emily, I didn't see you there." She gazed down her perfectly straight, aristocratic nose at Emily. "How cute that Kell brought you. He does so enjoy doing your father these little favors."
Emily felt one of her molars threaten to crack as she gritted her teeth. "Tabby, you're as sweetly endearing and charmingly polite as ever," she stated.
Tabby's eyes narrowed. "Of course I am, dear. It's the mark of a lady." She sniffed, causing her boobs to wiggle alarmingly, as she turned back to Kell and extended her hands to him. "No greetings for a friend, Kell?"
He inclined his head politely. "Hello, Tabby."
No love was lost here, Emily thought with pleased satisfaction.
Tabby affected an attempt at a pout; the pouched look appeared a little ridiculous on her though. Tabby, despite the boob job and lip enhancement, was amazingly well put together, so much so that Emily felt out of place every time she stood next to her. The strapless dress should have been lying around the other woman's ankles, but it stayed in place. The slit up the thigh never moved farther than it should, and her artfully arranged dark hair framed her face gracefully.
And she was staring at Kell as though she knew more about his body than she should.
Tabby sighed morosely. "You just disappeared from Atlanta last year as though you had never been there. I went by your apartme
nt several times, you know."
"I was out of town."
Emily felt Kell's fingers at her hip, the tips rubbing against the silk of her gown restlessly.
Tabby pouted again before flashing Emily a look of dislike from beneath her lashes.
"I heard you had moved from your place to Emily's," she drawled then. "We were all terribly surprised by that, you know."
Ah, D.C. gossip, one had to love it. Or in Emily's case, hate it.
"Why?" Kell's question was sharp, intent.
Whew, Emily could feel the tension rising now. Not in Kell—he was calm, alert, dangerous—but in Tabby. Her fingers tightened on the little black purse she carried as her scarlet lips thinned marginally.
"We were just surprised," Tabby murmured then. "Emily's always so quiet." It was obvious quiet wasn't exactly the word she wanted to use.
"She's refreshing," Kell said softly. "Unlike other people. Now, if you'll excuse us."
"Don't run off, Kell," Tabby pleaded softly then, her hand landing on his arm, her fingers curling against the silk of the material. "I believe several of Emily's friends are here tonight as well. We could all visit."
Emily knew she should have expected this. Tabby was a regular at these parties, and she wasn't the only one.
"I believe I might actually know most everyone who is here," Emily stated with a smile. "Considering the crowd, that's not surprising, Tabby."
Satisfaction gleamed in Tabby's eyes.
"Deuter Meyers seemed quite surprised that you and Kell were living together," Tabby said with a self-satisfied smile. "He flew out from D.C. this morning just for the party after nearly deciding not to come. But when I mentioned you would be here, why he felt he just had to show up."
Emily's arms ached. She could feel the chill racing over them, the echo of the deep bruises that had marred them for weeks after she had left another party that Deuter Meyers had attended.
"Deuter Meyers?" There was an edge of suspicion as Kell glanced down at her.
"I knew him in college." Emily shrugged, careful to control her reactions now.
"Quite well, from what I understand." Tabby's smile was pure spite. "Very well."
At this point, Emily wanted to roll her eyes. She leaned forward instead. "Unlike some of us, when Kell came to my bed he knew exactly who he'd shared me with and who he hadn't. You're barking up the wrong tree." Bitch.
Tabby's eyes narrowed as she glanced at Kell. "Oh please, tell me you didn't fall for the virgin ploy."
"I think Kell's smarter than that, Tabby," Emily pointed out. "He rarely falls for anything, as we both know."
Just as he evidently hadn't fallen for the other woman or her carefully practiced sexuality.
Tabby flashed her a hostile look then slid her hand over Kell's opposite arm. "You should dance with me. It's been a very long time since we've danced."
Oh geez, give her a break.
"Tabby, I think you know that's not going to happen." Kell's voice was a hell of a lot nicer than the other woman deserved. Of course, Emily knew the enmity between her and Tabby might have something to do with her feelings on the matter.
Fury flashed in the other woman's eyes then. "Poor Kell." She sighed. "It's obvious you're still drawn to the poor little creatures outside your own social class. My parents were so certain you would grow out of that habit."
The little bitch.
"Excuse us, Tabby." Kell's voice was ice now. "But I think Emily needs some fresh air. Good night."
Kell drew her quickly away from the other woman, but not before Emily turned back, her gaze connecting with Tabby's in a look of promised retaliation. She may not attend the parties often, but she had her own friends. Friends who could make certain portions of Tabby's life uncomfortable.
"Bet me that Drage Masters rescinds her membership in his clubs for the rest of the year," she muttered, remembering the times she had seen the other woman at the clubs when she had gone to them for research into the BDSM fringe societies.
Kell drew her quickly along the wall, glancing down at her in shock. "How do you know Drage?"
"Drage likes me." She shrugged. "When I wanted to use his clubs for research I made an appointment with him and Jayne Doe first thing rather than just barging in. He thought I was very polite. He even offered to let me downstairs if I was willing to pretend to be his sub."
He muttered something. Something along the lines of death, dismemberment, and Drage in the same sentence.
"He's charming." She shrugged.
"He's an alleycat," he argued back.
"They are the most charming of all," she assured him with a smile. "They appreciate the attention."
And the byplay was doing nothing to help her forget the fact that Tabby and Deuter were here. Together.
Damn Tabby and Deuter Meyers. She didn't need this. She still hadn't gotten over the nightmares that little event had produced before Fuentes had kidnapped her. She didn't need to meet that bastard again, especially not while Kell was anywhere around.
"Want to tell me about Meyers?" he asked as they once again began to move and headed through the open French doors into the candlelit gardens beyond.
"There's nothing to tell," she assured him before sipping at her wine again and wishing she had thought to get a refill.
"You know, Em, I've known you a long time," he drawled. "I could tell when you were lying even as a kid. That hasn't changed."
"Then maybe it's just none of your business." She had managed to keep that little event quiet for the most part. Few people knew about it, and even her father hadn't so much as heard a muttered rumor.
"I might have accepted that if it weren't for the fact that I could almost smell the hatred and anger rising off you," he growled. "You hid it damned well while Tabby was there, but I know you a hell of a lot better than she does. Should I ask Deuter about it?"
God forbid.
"You know, Kell, I don't go around questioning your ex-lovers," she pointed out. "Why should you question men that you should have enough sense to know aren't my ex-lovers?"
He was silent for long moments, drawing her through the crowds as she stared at faces and tried to place names to them.
"Because they frighten you," he finally said. "I want to know why."
"Maybe he was just weird."
"And maybe I know weird doesn't frighten you," he snapped. "It takes a hell of a lot more than weird to even faze you and I know it. So what the fuck happened?"
Emily flinched. He was working himself into a seriously pissed mood. Not that she really cared if Kell got pissed: there wasn't a chance he would hurt her. But if they came face-to-face with Deuter, she couldn't exactly predict what he might do.
"Nothing happened," she snapped back. "He wanted it, I said no, end of story. And you shouldn't worry so damned much about a past that is none of your business."
Before she could predict movement, Kell pulled her between the tall flowering shrubs that bordered the walkway, then pushed her against the stone column that hid there.
His body flattened against hers, his hands grabbing both wrists and anchoring them over her head with one broad hand.
"Now. I would like to ask you again. What happened with Deuter Meyers?"
Chapter Twenty-five
“Has it ever been pointed out to you that you are just a shade arrogant?" Emily asked conversationally as she melted against his body.
He was hard. Her body noticed that the instant he pressed against her. His cock pressed against her stomach insistently, reminding her that she hadn't had her daily dose of Kell yet.
"You've mentioned it often," he bit out. "Now tell me about Deuter."
"Look, it was nothing. He was at a party and he freaked me out a little bit. Deuter likes to think he's a ladies' man, end of story."
"How did he freak you out?"
He wasn't buying it and he wasn't bothering to hide it. Dammit, why did Tabby have to be such an interfering bitch? She had managed to keep Deuter alive
by the simple fact that she had never allowed her father to know what had happened. His life would be extinguished even faster if Kell found out.
In one single, stupid moment, the other woman had ignored all Emily's careful discretion. Not that she cared if Deuter died; she just cared if her father or Kell spent time in orison for his death.
Emily licked her lips nervously. She really didn't want to lie to Kell. Besides, he always seemed to know when she was lying.
"He was a little rough." She shrugged it away. "That's all. He'd had a little too much to drink and—"
