by Mia Dymond
“Liv, Sophie and Kat attended the party too, each well-known in her own right,” Chaos pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s break this down.” Chaos sat back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Sophie is the daughter of a U.S. Senator. Both Edward and Alana Graystone were there as well. Kat’s father, Judge William Abbott attended and we know for a fact he has enemies. Liv’s parents own the hotel – Richard and Elizabeth Blackwell donated the use of the venue.”
Thunder unfolded his arms. “What was the purpose of this party?”
“The City of Everglade Springs hosts it every year to introduce new council members, community projects, etc.” Ace gave a mental snort – or so they claimed.
“Anybody want anything?”
“Everyone wants something.” He grinned, more than willing to give his opinion. “The whole purpose is to rub elbows with someone who may have something to offer.”
“All the guests were associated with the City?”
“In a roundabout way. There were also members of big business present. Apparently, it’s the place to be if you’re looking for a handout.”
“Not much to go on.”
“Not yet.” He released a hard breath. “Our only option is to watch and learn.”
“Agreed. What’s your plan?”
He paused, careful not to reveal the spontaneous response on the tip of his tongue. His plan? He had a perfect excuse to invade her space – moving in to protect her sexy body made absolute sense in his mind anyway. In reality, there was no immediate danger and there was no sense making himself look like the sap he pretty much knew he was.
“We have no proof our perp is focused on Carley. No need to jump to conclusions yet - I can keep a close enough eye on her with a discreet tail.”
“Discreet, huh?” Chaos chuckled.
He frowned. “Yeah.”
“Good luck with that.”
“She’s at the spa with Sophie, Kat and Liv.” Rebel glanced at the watch on his wrist. “My Intel says they’re almost finished.”
His frown deepened. “How the hell do you have Intel we don’t?”
“Pillow talk.”
Ace groaned as he stood, silently envious but smart enough not to let it show. “I’ll see if I can catch her before she leaves.”
“How is that discreet?”
He grinned while he walked toward the doorway leading out of the room. “It isn’t.”
***
Bright sunlight bounced off the lenses of her sunglasses as Carley stepped out of the spa and headed for her car. She grinned. If Kat’s cucumber mask had done its job, her skin was probably equally as radiant. It had been nice to spend the morning pampering herself in the relaxing comfort of Kat’s spa, melting away the tension of last night’s unfortunate ending. In fact, only one other activity might possibly have the same effect, but only if a certain soldier participated.
Her grin widened into a full-fledged smile and she released a tiny giggle. Something about Ace’s take-charge attitude told her he knew several methods of relaxation. And his carefree nature – well, that would only add spontaneity.
“That’s an awfully big smile.”
Her nerves jumped at the sound of a male voice behind her and she spun to discover the identity.
“Ace!” She grasped the rock hard muscle of his forearm and squeezed. “You scared me to death!”
He simply snickered. “You were caught up in your thoughts.”
Oh, yes she was. Thoughts she didn’t intend to share with him.
Yet.
“Not really.”
“Really,” he insisted with a sexy grin. “Care to share?”
Oh, man. She bit her tongue to keep her confession quiet.
“No.” She folded her arms under her breasts. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting on you.”
“Why?”
He gave a lazy shrug. “I wanted to see you.”
“Okay, for what reason?”
“Do you need an explanation for everything?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you might like to get a cup of coffee.”
“Where?”
“The coffee shop down the block.”
“The Perfect Brew?”
He nodded.
“Well, let me see.” She dug through her bag, pulled out her itinerary, and then spread it out on the hood of her car.
The sexy chuckle behind her told her he looked over her shoulder.
“You have a color-coded map of your schedule?”
“Of course. It’s a much better use of my time not to back track or wander aimlessly around the city.”
“Uh-huh. And the places in red are the most important?”
“Yes. Those are the stores I order from frequently. I usually have quite a few items to pick up.”
He tapped the numbers next to a red square. “You time yourself?”
She crammed her itinerary into her bag and turned to face him as she glanced at her watch. “Yes, and I’m behind.”
“Then it won’t hurt to have a cup of coffee with me.”
She tilted her head to one side, weighing the pros and cons of the possibility. Pros crowded her brain in seconds; cons failed to congregate. Maybe she’d give spontaneous a shot.
“Sure,” she said finally, “under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You shop with me afterwards.”
“For what?”
“Party supplies for the Mayor’s Reception.”
“Okay.”
Both surprised and suspicious about his quick response, she extended a hand. “Shake on it so I know you’re serious.”
“I can do better than that.”
He stepped close to her, rested a hand on her hip, and slowly lowered his head. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat a jungle rhythm. Her knees weakened as his face came impossibly closer and just when she felt the urge to faint, his lips grazed the surface of her right cheek. One small peck that packed a severe wallop.
He stepped back and gave her another of those knee-weakening smirks. “Still doubt my sincerity?”
“No,” she answered breathlessly. “C’mon, let’s get that coffee.”
Ace walked beside Carley, practicing great discipline not to tuck her hand inside his and squeeze tight. No, if he gave in to the urge, he’d take ahold and show her just what a rush it was to operate without an itinerary – color-coded or otherwise – right in the middle of the cream and sugar.
It wasn’t that he was opposed to structure and discipline – he was a career soldier, for Pete’s sake – but being a sniper taught him that things didn’t always follow a plan. In fact, there was no such thing as a plan when he zeroed in on a target; it was all up to circumstance at that point.
He was eternally thankful to finally reach the coffee shop and grab the door handle.
He gestured inside with one hand. “After you.”
It wasn’t until he wrapped his hands around a steaming cup of joe that he felt relatively sure he wouldn’t pounce on her.
“So, you said we’re shopping for a party.”
“Yes, the Mayor’s Reception. I’m putting the finishing touches on it since it’s tomorrow night.”
“I’m assuming you have a theme.”
She nodded. “The Roaring Twenties, casino-style.”
“Sounds interesting. Do you have a date?”
“Depends.”
She lifted her cup, swallowed and then returned it to the table. He recognized the stall tactic as one to allow herself to mull over the opportunity that just presented itself. He hoped upon hope she’d take the bait.
“Do you have a costume?”
Relief punched him in the gut. “No, but I’ll find one.”
“We can pick up one while we’re out.”
“Think you can work that into the schedule?”
“I think we can manage.”
&nbs
p; Her smile rendered him speechless for a few seconds, the gesture only making her more beautiful. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but he’d spent enough to know that she wore her emotions on her pretty, porcelain face. If she was happy, her face lit up like a bonfire. If she was angry, her eyes crackled with thunder and flashed jagged lightning bolts. If she was unhappy, his heart broke in two and his body went on full alert, ready to obliterate the cause of her pain.
She tapped the side of her cup, dragging his attention back to the present. “Do you have any more news on last night’s party?”
“No, but it’s early.”
“Whose finger is it?”
“The prints couldn’t be identified.”
“Geez, someone knew what they were doing,” she mumbled.
“Looks that way on the surface,” he agreed, “but sometimes it’s luck. The lab’s not done with it yet.”
“I can’t figure out the reasoning behind leaving it.”
“Unfortunately, there’s not always a clear-cut reason. Do you know if any of the guests are involved in underground activity?”
“The majority of them are politically-connected.” She raised an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do what that means, solid proof or not.”
He nodded. “Did you hear any business talk?”
“The biggest development is the shipping port at the marina, but that’s all over the news. EF Chemicals is lobbying for money and support.”
“Any protests?”
“None so far. Everyone seems to be supportive.”
“Why does the company want a new port?”
“Volume. The current operation isn’t large enough to support the business they intend to bring.”
“Who attended from the company?”
“The president, Christopher Remington.”
“Do you know him?”
“Quite well, actually. We grew up next door to each other.”
“He’s a close friend?”
“Fairly so.”
“Was he there when you discovered the finger?”
“No, he left early. In fact, not too many people were still there, thank goodness.”
“Did your family offer support to the project?”
“Not yet. My grandfather insists the decision be presented to the Board of Directors before offering assistance.” She shrugged. “It’s really just a technicality.”
He tipped his cup, swallowed the remaining contents, and abruptly closed the discussion. “How far is the costume shop?”
“Three doors down.” She smirked. “Are you ready to play dress-up?”
He didn’t even bother stopping the smile that split his lips. “I’d play dress-up with you any day.”
***
He paced the hardwood floor of his office, impatiently waiting for information that would put him much more at ease. He had a plan, one that required the cooperation of several people, which made it difficult to assure a successful outcome.
When he originally set out to achieve his objective, his intent had been to take matters into his own hands. He knew that the more he depended upon others, the odds were greater against success. Yet, he had no choice; he simply needed someone with a direct connection to his target and he was forced into an unlikely partnership. Luckily, or not, his associate seemed to take extreme interest in the same pawns as he and honestly, he was very curious about his associate’s interest. The other man appeared obsessed, almost. So much so that it made him a little wary himself.
A wave of relief passed over his shoulder blades when his cell phone finally rang. He quickly connected the call and lifted the device to his ear.
“The shipment has arrived,” the other man told him. “You can retrieve it at the port.”
His momentary relief disappeared into thin air. “Me? I thought you had a courier.”
“He has been detained. If you still want the package, you’ll have to retrieve it.”
He fought the urge to bang the phone against the desk in frustration. His original thought that depending upon others was a bad idea had just been confirmed. Suddenly, throwing in the towel crossed his mind but unfortunately, he was in too deep. And, he needed this package to wrap up the operation.
“I’ll go now,” he said finally.
“Excellent. This should seal the deal.”
“Yes. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know for sure.”
CHAPTER THREE
Carley shifted the spaghetti strap of her sapphire blue flapper’s dress to the center of her shoulder as she watched her staff buzz around the crowd of guests with trays of hor d’oeuvres and glasses of wine. The atmosphere boasted one of fun and festivity as groups of people gathered around the tables loaded with casino games, ready to take on Lady Luck. Although the proceeds were pre-determined to be paid to a variety of charitable organizations, guests couldn’t pass up the opportunity to earn the title of high roller.
The theme had been well accepted. Women dressed in flapper’s costumes with fringe that bounced whey they moved hung on arms of men attired in pin-striped suits with Panama or derby hats resting on top of their heads. The female wait staff wore bright red or black showgirl costumes, complete with an enormous matching feather headdress and sequins sparkling in the bright light of the room. Male waiters sported sleek black and white pinstriped suits with a red, silk dress shirt, black tie, and a black fedora hat, complete with a red feather tucked in the brim. Much to her satisfaction, the Roaring Twenties were in full swing.
She moved her gaze off of the crowd and onto the long bar in one corner, where her date for the evening stood while he rested his elbow on the counter. The crisply creased points of his grey, pinstriped suit emphasized the bulging muscles beneath and caused her mouth to water. He’d replaced the usual dress shirt with a black t-shirt, which only showcased even more the ever-present, chiseled pectorals. He wore a black fedora on his head, tipped slightly to one side – an era-appropriate but oh-so-sexy touch. She released a long, slow breath in an attempt to quiet her raging hormones. As badly as she wanted to, it simply wouldn’t do to try him on for size on top of the bar.
She cleared her throat, smoothed her dress with both hands, and then practically floated toward him. His trademark sexy smirk caused a warm, electrical sensation to climb her spine when she stood next to him. Much to her delight, he reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips, and then placed a kiss against the backside.
“You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Warmth invaded her cheeks. “You look great yourself.”
He lowered her hand but didn’t release it, instead braiding their fingers. “The party is a success. Looks like everyone is enjoying themselves.”
“I think so.”
“Have you tried your hand at the poker table?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea of how to play.”
He tilted his head to one side, casting a shadow over his handsome face and making him even more mysteriously sexy. “Maybe I can teach you.”
She held her breath in the heated moment between them. He could probably teach her lots of things – things she was most willing to learn. She fought the urge to groan in delightful agony. He had no idea of the proposition he’d just made.
She opened her mouth to answer, interrupted by pressure on her lower back and a familiar male voice behind her.
“You’ve done an amazing job, Carley, as usual.”
Ace’s eyes darkened just before she released his hand and turned to address the uninvited guest. She painted on a smile in mid-turn, fighting the urge to swear.
“Christopher!” She accepted the hug he offered. “Thank you. Have you had any luck at the tables?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Ace couldn’t stop the frown that tugged at his lips when the other man put his arms around Carley.
Guy Code 101, dude - Don’t hug another man’s woman until you at least introduce yourself.
He quickly reeled himself in – Carley wasn’t
exactly his woman, yet, but still he couldn’t help but feel possessive. And even though she called him Christopher, whom he assumed to be Christopher Remington and her childhood friend, the code was still the same.
As soon as Carley stepped back, Ace cleared his throat and extended a hand.
“Ace.”
The other man accepted his offer. “Christopher Remington.”
“Carley tells me your company is the powerhouse behind the new shipping port at the marina.”
“We are and thanks to many of the people here tonight, it looks like our venture will be a success.”
“Sounds like quite a project.”
“It is,” Remington agreed. ‘We’ve had the support of a few very important people to ensure success. In fact, I gave Senator Graystone a personal tour earlier this week.”
“You’ve already begun construction?”
“We’re utilizing the current site.” Remington’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The man obviously loved to talk about his success. “The framing for the new addition is in progress.”
“From what I’ve heard, the operation seems to be a large one.”
Remington nodded. “We ship a massive amount of chemicals by water.”
“Really? I assumed air transport would be the preferred method.”
“Air transport places a few more restrictions than we’d like. With a larger more efficient port, we can ship more product at one time.”
He folded his arms across his chest, intrigued by Remington’s explanation. He had to admit, the guy seemed to have a valid point. “I don’t know much about EF Chemicals. What does the company keep in inventory?”
“If it’s liquid, we stock it.” Remington laughed. “Our main product, however, is liquid fertilizer high in nitrogen and phosphorus.”
“And the product is in high demand?”
“Absolutely. After all, we are in The Sunshine State and the oranges love it.” Remington raised a hand and waved at someone over Ace’s head. “Excuse me, would you? Give me a call and I’ll be glad to show you around. Carley knows where to find me.”
