Once inside, I sat on the toilet, balanced carefully, and tried the network, wearing Robert’s skin. Again, I popped effortlessly into the void and quickly backed out. This time I couldn’t suppress a grunt when agony knifed through my head, and I hastily flushed the toilet to cover the sound while I held my skull and hissed quiet but sincere invective.
When the worst of the pain subsided, I moved to the sink, washing my hands and checking my makeup. Nichele hadn’t lied about its quality. It was actually staying put, and I looked the same as when she’d finished with me hours before. Amazing. And I hadn’t even wrecked the dress yet.
Kane was waiting for me in the foyer. I glided over the slippery marble tiles, concentrating fiercely on looking lithe and relaxed while keeping my footing in the high heels. Apparently I succeeded, because he eyed me appreciatively as I joined him. Or maybe he was just a really good actor. I decided to call it a success regardless.
I took his proffered arm and we paused at the entrance of the enormous dining room. The two large men were in evidence again, but they had split up, hovering on opposite sides of the room. Their hard eyes searched the crowd. Kane’s gaze drifted over them without a change of expression, and I knew he was noting every detail of the room and the crowd as well, but far less obtrusively than Harchman’s minions.
“Nothing like a nice, intimate dinner for a hundred or so of your closest friends,” I whispered. “I wonder if the Harchmans actually live here, or if they secretly go to their real house when the party’s over.”
Kane chuckled, looking and sounding completely at ease. “This is their real house.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
We took seats at a table near the edge of the room, our backs to the wall, and I resisted the urge to kick the shoes off my sore feet. I almost never wear high heels, but I’m smart enough to know that if you ever take them off, it’s really damn hard to put them back on again for the rest of the night.
I focused on keeping my back straight and my knees together. The acrylic nails felt thick and foreign, and I folded my hands casually in my lap, trying to abstain from picking at them.
“Talk to me,” I whispered to Kane. “I’m losing it. If I don’t concentrate on conversation, I’m going to get sucked into the network. And I’ll create a simulation of me in my coveralls drinking beer and tinkering with one of my cars.” The image was so inviting that I smiled, relaxing unconsciously.
I nearly leaped out of my skin at the bite on my earlobe. “Aydan!” Kane’s baritone growled in my ear. “Stay focused!”
I jerked up straight again, my heart pounding with the realization that I’d almost blown my cover.
Well, the heart rate might also be related to the fact that a very sexy man had just nibbled my ear. I met his eyes, looking deeply and letting him see some of my reaction.
“You’ve got my attention,” I murmured.
His eyes dilated, but he gave his head a quick shake as he leaned back in his chair. “Are you still renovating your house?” he asked casually. “Did you ever finish that bathroom?”
I switched gears to polite conversation. “I finished the ensuite I was working on in March. Now my main one is starting to have little problems here and there. I’m not sure whether I’ll tackle it this summer or not. I’m pretty busy with my garden and outdoor work.”
We made innocuous small talk until three other couples joined us at our round table. I concentrated on the introductions and the impersonal conversation that followed until the first course was served.
As Kane had promised, the food was truly superb. A rich lobster bisque was followed by a light, crisp salad with hints of tropical fruit. A small portion of delicate roasted butternut squash ravioli followed in a sumptuous cream sauce. Our empty plates were whisked away, and a tomato and sage sorbet arrived, cleansing our palates for the next course.
I felt Kane’s gaze on me, and glanced up to catch him observing me with amusement. I grinned back. “I’m beginning to feel compensated for my suffering,” I joked softly.
I turned back to my plate to give the roast lamb and vegetable mousse the attention it deserved, and made a valiant effort to stay engaged in the conversation, privately wishing everybody would just shut up and let me enjoy the meal. A delectable cheese course came and went, and while the hazelnut crème brulée and coffee were being served, Harchman began the software presentation.
I listened with half an ear. Most of the technology and jargon went over my head, so I occupied myself instead by surreptitiously people-watching. Harchman was an uninspired speaker, but his presentation was mercifully short. After a question period, the tables were cleared off, and we were invited to the salon for after-dinner drinks.
The salon proved to be a slightly smaller version of the cavernous dining room, and guests circulated comfortably around yet another bar. After a while, I manoeuvred Kane into a corner and leaned close, slipping my arm around him. It seemed the network was being broadcast throughout the entire house, because once again I ducked in and then quickly out.
Grateful for the string quartet sawing away next to us, I didn’t even try to suppress my involuntary cry of distress when I re-entered the real world. When the punishing pain receded, I realized Kane held me crushed against him with one arm. His other hand supported my head while he trailed hungry kisses over my throat. I regained my balance with difficulty, slipping my arms around his neck. His grip loosened and we gazed into each other’s eyes from close range.
“You sure give a girl mixed messages,” I joked.
I felt the strain leave his shoulders as he smiled down at me. “You went down like a ton of bricks that time,” he muttered against my neck. “Took me by surprise. Are you all right?”
“Just the usual,” I whispered back. “It hurts a little more each time, when I go in and out frequently like this.”
He drew back to look into my eyes. “You need to stop, then. I won’t be able to cover if it gets any worse.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a break.”
He released me and I stepped back. As I did, the two black-clad men interposed themselves between us and greeted Kane pleasantly. Kane caught my eye and I turned to stroll away, responding to his almost imperceptible signal.
I jerked back when I came chest to face with Harchman. Judging by his fixed stare, he had no complaint.
“Lawrence,” I gushed. “Your presentation was fascinating. You’re such a masterful speaker.” I suffered a momentary pang of apprehension that a bolt of lightning would strike me dead, but nothing happened. Maybe the gods thought it was all for a good cause.
His puny chest puffed up. God save me from man boobs.
He moistly clutched my hand. “Thank you, my dear. And now I’d like to give you that tour I promised.”
I gave him my best dazzling smile. “That would be wonderful. I’ll get John.” I turned and beckoned to Kane, who was still involved in conversation. He made a move toward me, but one of the men grasped his arm. He frowned and the man let go, but as Kane stepped forward, both men blocked his path again.
Harchman watched the interchange with a smirk. “I took the liberty of making sure your husband would be occupied. I’m sure we’ll enjoy our tour much more without him.”
A cold, slow trickle of apprehension oozed down my spine. “Oh, but he’ll be so disappointed if he doesn’t get to see your beautiful home,” I argued lightly. “Architecture is one of his greatest hobbies.”
Harchman shrugged. “Beautiful women are one of my greatest hobbies. And I find husbands hamper my enjoyment of that hobby.” He took my elbow, sliding his hand intimately up my arm and grazing my breast. “Come, my dear.”
Trying to hide my fear, I glanced over at Kane again. Both men were blocking his path, and it was clear that short of a physical altercation, he wouldn’t be able to break free. I couldn’t even make eye contact with him anymore.
Not knowing what else to do, I let Harchman draw me away. I didn’t dare make a scene a
nd blow our cover, if it wasn’t already blown. I swallowed hard and concentrated on keeping my posture relaxed, drawing a deep breath in an attempt to slow my racing pulse.
Please let him be just a garden-variety pervert. God, please don’t let him be like the soulless animals who’d captured me before…
I pasted on a smile and nodded with as much interest as I could fake while he talked, guiding me further away from the crowd, down an empty hallway and into the private area of the house. While we made our way deeper into the labyrinth, I did my best to pay attention to the details Kane had mentioned in our strategy session.
At least I was getting to see the house. If I managed to escape… no, dammit, calm down. I was fine. Everything was going to be fine. When I saw Kane again, I could pass on information about the layout.
Fortunately, Harchman didn’t seem to require any actual conversational input from me. As long as I nodded and exclaimed and looked worshipful, he kept babbling and showing me through the house.
Kane’s earlier mention of Harchman’s roving eyes proved to be incomplete. He also had roving hands. Icky, sweaty, roving hands. I avoided them when I could and tolerated the rest, pretending fascination with his self-important monologue. I began to relax as time passed. So far, it seemed Harchman was just a harmless asshole.
He turned suddenly and I backed away a step, fetching up against the wall behind me. He leaned close, his moist hand sliding down from my waist to my thigh.
“Would you like to see something really exciting?” he asked fervently.
I clutched his wayward hand in both of my own, feigning eagerness. “Oh, yes, Lawrence!”
He gave me an oily smile as he placed his thumb on a scanner beside the door next to us. When the latch released, he swung the door open, gesturing me inside and copping a feel when I stepped in front of him.
“The nerve centre of the house,” he exclaimed proudly.
I scanned the banks of servers and monitors, my heart pounding. Could the server for the brainwave-driven network be in here? I turned back to Harchman, fiddling with his bow tie and trailing my fingertips down his pathetic chest.
“Oh, Lawrence! This looks so complicated! What does it all do?” I breathed.
I was punished for my enthusiasm when he locked both hands on my ass and ground his crotch against me. He was so much shorter than I that my thigh was all he could reach, but the sensation was revolting nevertheless.
I pulled away, clutching his hand and dragging him toward the nearest terminal. “What does this one do?”
“Everything in the house is controlled from here,” he said with a grand flourish of his pudgy hand. “All the security cameras, networks, internet, climate control, everything.”
I read between the lines. He didn’t have a clue.
A large man rose from behind one of the banks of servers. “Mr. Harchman,” he said deferentially.
“This is the security station,” Harchman burbled, pulling me forward. I eagerly surveyed the screens, doing a quick count of displays and trying to identify the camera locations from their point of view. “Everything is monitored twenty-four hours a day,” he continued, puffed up with his own importance.
I plastered on what I hoped was an ingenuous expression of wide-eyed awe. “This is so impressive. But how do you stay comfortable knowing that you’re surrounded by forest, so far away from the city? What if you needed the police?”
Harchman patted my hand. “I employ my own security detail. The entire perimeter is patrolled by guards and dogs. I can afford whatever protection I need.” He slid his hand over my ass again as he guided me back toward the door.
A dumpy black-haired woman in a baggy grey sweatsuit popped into the doorway.
“Larry!” she barked, her black brows snapping together in an unflattering scowl. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Maria, darling,” Harchman responded smoothly, mercifully removing his hand. “You know I prefer you to call me Lawrence.”
“How about if I just call you a lying, cheating pig?” she snarled. “Get your disgusting floozy out of here!”
“Now, darling,” Harchman replied, apparently unfazed. “I was just offering one of our guests a tour. She’s very interested in interior decorating.”
“Well, she can go and be interested somewhere else. You have ten seconds to get her out of here, or I’ll call one of your precious security guards and have them drag her out. Your choice.”
Harchman took my arm. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to cut our tour short. My wife suffers from migraine headaches, and she’s not at her best right now.” He ushered me past the glowering woman.
“And keep your hands off her ass!” Maria screeched as we turned the corner. “You disgusting pig!”
For a woman with a migraine, she had remarkably good vocal projection.
Chapter 11
We took a direct route back through the immense house, and Harchman kept his hands more or less to himself. Soon I heard the murmur of conversation, and we arrived at the salon by another door. Stepping gratefully into the crowded room again, I turned to offer an insincere thank you to Harchman for the tour but he had already lost interest. He vanished into the crowd without a backward glance, shaking hands and greeting people.
I let out a heartfelt sigh and scanned the crush of guests for Kane. Standing head and shoulders taller than most of the people there, he should have been easy to spot, but he was nowhere to be seen. My relief vanished and worry flooded in to take its place. What if the two men had taken him? What if he was being tortured, or if he was lying dead even now?
I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and moved nonchalantly through the crowd, heading for the front door. As I walked, I scoured the room with my eyes, hoping against hope.
I controlled my panic with an effort as I stepped outside and strained my eyes in the twilight. The grounds were illuminated by a fairyland of tiny white lights, and the effect would have been enchanting if I hadn’t been desperately searching for one tall, broad-shouldered figure. I could make out small knots and couples of party guests here and there on the grounds, but it was too dim to identify anyone.
Heading for the walkway, I peered into the dusk, trying to stay calm and formulate a plan. Logic. Okay. Two possibilities. One, Kane was captured. Or two, we’d simply gotten separated, and he was looking for me just as I was looking for him.
I dealt with the most horrifying possibility first. If he’d been captured, the best thing I could do would be to notify his team immediately. I wasn’t about to attempt a daring rescue by myself. I shuddered, my mind shying away from all the dire possibilities. My own experiences earlier in the year had left me with no illusions about what Kane would be suffering. If he was still alive.
I yanked my mind away to the better of the two possibilities. Maybe he was looking for me. Think like Kane. What would he do if he saw me being ushered away helplessly? He didn’t have any reason to believe we had been compromised. I doubted he would make a scene if he thought our cover was still intact.
I blew out a breath through my teeth, still scanning the grounds. A movement caught my eye from the vicinity of the guest house, the second-largest building. A tall figure strode hurriedly up the path toward the house, and my heart gave a painful contraction when I recognized Kane’s broad shoulders and athletic gait. I trotted up the path and called his name softly.
At the sound of my voice, his head jerked around. In a few long strides, he closed the distance between us and swept me into his arms. “Aydan,” he said urgently. “Are you all right?”
I held him tightly, trembling with relief. “I’m fine,” I assured him. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he echoed. He rested his forehead briefly against my hair, then released me and took my hand, turning toward the house.
“I got the house tour,” I told him quietly. “I did the best I could to watch for the things you mentioned. And I think I know where the server room is.”
H
e squeezed my hand. “Good work. I got the rest of the buildings. Lucky we found each other. I was just about to make a major scene. I didn’t know what was happening to you, and I was afraid to wait any longer.”
“Same here,” I replied. “I thought you’d been captured.” As we approached the buildings, I glanced up at him. “Do you want me to check the guest house for the network?”
Kane paused, surveying me in the dusk. “Are you up to it?”
“Can we get into it inconspicuously?”
He shrugged. “It’s a guest house. We’re guests.” We walked arm in arm up to the entrance of the building and stepped into the foyer as if we belonged there. The opulent decor stunned me. Wood, glass, and stone made a warm background for blocky, sophisticated soft seating in earth tones.
Kane led me to one of the chairs. “Sit this time.”
I sank into the chair and he perched on the arm, holding me close against his chest. Just a tired couple taking a break from the party. I summoned up Robert again, stepping in and then out of the network one last time. Red-hot pokers jabbed into my brain, and my body jerked as it strained to curl up. I ground my teeth to hold back the profanity that fought to escape, and tasted blood. I breathed deeply against Kane’s shirt for a few moments, waiting for the pain to subside enough that I could trust my voice.
“Ow,” I whimpered softly. “Fuck.” I touched the painful spot in my mouth and surveyed the smear of blood on my fingertip.
Kane tilted my face up, scanning it anxiously. “Aydan? Are you all right?”
I grimaced. “Fine. I just bit myself.”
He gazed down at me for a few seconds more. “That’s the last time. You don’t need to do this again. Can you stand up yet?”
I nodded, and he helped me to my feet, tucking my arm into his once again. We left the building, and he led me up the path toward the house. Music poured out as the door opened, and the two guards hurried past us in the direction of the guest house. I suppressed a twitch.
The Spy Is Cast Page 7
