by Paula Graves
“Sir Henry!” Darcy shook the ambassador’s hand. “Eleanor, you look smashing.” He bent and kissed the woman’s cheek. “I’m delighted to introduce my dear friends Evelyn Martin and her employer, Jesse Cooper.” He bent closer to Henry, lowering his voice. “You may have heard of Cooper Security? I believe you met his brother Richard some years ago when you were stationed in Burma.”
Jesse’s fingers flattened against Evie’s back. She glanced up at him and saw him staring at Darcy, his eyes narrowed.
“Rick Cooper? Yes, yes! I remember him quite well. Handsome chap and excellent to have on your side in a tight spot.” Ambassador Henry Steed shook Jesse’s hand with enthusiasm. “I believe he was employed with Jackson Melville at MacLear at the time, was he not?”
“I believe so,” Jesse answered carefully.
“Dreadful what happened to that company.” The ambassador shook his head. “I hope your brother suffered no permanent ill effects from his association with MacLear.”
“He works for me now,” Jesse answered. “I’ll be certain to give him your regards.”
“Do! I would love to hear from him again. You must have him tell you about our adventure in Mandalay.” The ambassador turned to Evie. “And it is a great delight to meet you, Ms. Martin. You look stunning.”
Evie smiled. “Thank you, sir. What a beautiful home!”
“I wish I could claim credit for it, but it was here, as you see it, long before I arrived. Come, meet my wife, Eleanor.”
After Jesse and Evie greeted the ambassador’s wife, Darcy pulled the ambassador aside briefly while Eleanor Steed answered some of Evie’s questions about the architecture. A moment later, Darcy rejoined them, directing them down a long hallway with a harlequin-patterned marble-and-slate floor and into an enormous, ornate ballroom lined with faux Siena marble columns.
Evie had never attended a party at the British Embassy, but she’d been to enough tony Washington parties to be able to walk around the splendid ballroom without gaping at the massive chandeliers, the ornate carved plaster frieze lining the top of the walls or the striking Andy Warhol portrait of Queen Elizabeth hanging over the large mantel.
“I didn’t know what to expect,” she admitted, “but this is very—”
“Excessive?” Jesse drawled.
She cut her eyes at him. “Overwhelming.”
“Well, get over that feeling, and quickly,” Darcy said. “I was able to procure a tour of the house for both of you, and an invitation to visit the drawing room.”
“Both of us?” Jesse looked surprised.
“Yes, both. I assume you know how to behave in good company.”
The look Jesse gave Darcy would have killed a lesser man. Darcy merely answered with a placid smile.
“I hope you didn’t mind my earlier name-dropping. I thought the ambassador’s fortuitous prior connection to your brother, however tenuous, might help bring you into his inner circle more quickly.”
“How did you know about it?” Jesse asked. “I didn’t know my brother and the ambassador had ever met.”
“After you contacted me and dropped Maddox Heller’s name, I did my homework. In case Heller’s time away from the Marines had dulled his normal instincts for trouble.”
Evie slipped her hand into the crook of Jesse’s arm, hoping to steer both men away from trouble before things got any tenser between them. “I don’t see anyone here who’d recognize me,” she said with relief.
Her days of attending parties with her father had ended almost a decade earlier, when she’d been skinny and shy, a gangly teenager still trying to get comfortable in her own skin. She’d eschewed makeup and worn her dark hair in a long braid down her back.
Even if someone she recognized had been here at the party, it was unlikely that person would look at the redhead in the blue chiffon dress and connect her to the awkward child she’d been ten years ago.
“What happens next?” Jesse placed his hand over Evie’s where it lay in the crook of his arm.
Darcy’s dark eyes scanned the ballroom. “I’ll introduce the two of you to some people who will probably be in the drawing room later, after dinner. That way, you won’t be so isolated when you go there.”
“Won’t you be there?” Evie asked.
“I have somewhere else to be,” he said cryptically. “I’ll try to join you there before the party ends.” He nodded toward a group of men standing in the corner of the ballroom near one of the tall mirrors. “Come, let me introduce you to someone.”
Evie and Jesse exchanged glances as they followed Darcy across the room. So the DSS agent had his own reason for being at the party. Maybe the secretary of energy wasn’t the only potential bad guy who’d be at the ambassador’s dinner that evening.
In short order, Darcy introduced them to a half-dozen fellow guests, including a brigadier general in the Air Force who recognized Jesse’s name from the recent news about General Harlowe’s kidnapping and subsequent release. He seemed inclined to ask Jesse questions about the case, but Jesse handled the inquiries with polite nonanswers that the general soon read—correctly—as well-mannered versions of “no comment.”
They also met a talkative guest named Talbot Dreier, a pretty blonde in her mid-thirties whose husband, Robert, worked at the Department of Energy. “He’s pretty low down the totem pole,” she told Evie with a smile, edging away from the men, who had entered a discussion of college football.
Evie followed. “Everyone starts somewhere.”
Talbot took a canapé from one of the white-suited butlers carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres. Evie selected a prosciutto-wrapped date and nibbled at it as she and Talbot went with the flow of partygoers out of the ballroom and across the corridor to the terrace overlooking the gardens.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Talbot asked, waving her half-eaten canapé at the symmetrical garden spreading out before them. “I wish you could have visited a few months ago when the roses were at their best.”
“So you’ve visited here before?”
“A few times. Robert has become a particular favorite of Secretary Gamble, so when he has a chance to bring someone along to one of these events, Richard is often his choice.”
“You’ve met the secretary yourself, then?”
“Of course. A charming man.”
Evie heard an odd note in Talbot’s otherwise cheerful voice. “He comes across very polished and urbane on television.”
“Polished and urbane. Yes, that fits him well.” Talbot snagged a champagne flute from a passing butler and lifted the glass in a brief salute. “To Secretary Gamble and his saint of a wife.”
Now Evie knew there was more behind Talbot’s words than their surface meanings. Clearly, she didn’t have a completely positive opinion of Morris Gamble.
Evie dug a little deeper. “I didn’t realize the secretary was married, although I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? Behind every powerful man lurks at least one woman who made him what he is.”
“At least one,” Talbot agreed. “Or more than one.”
“Theirs is a second marriage?”
Talbot’s cherry-red lips curved in a wry smile. “Oh, no. Phyllis is his only wife. High school sweethearts.” She took a sip of the champagne. When she spoke again, her voice was as dry as the wine. “Married nearly thirty years now.”
Evie spotted Jesse watching her from the other side of the terrace. Even from that distance, she felt his gaze as surely as if he’d reached out and touched her. Dragging her gaze away from his, she smiled at Talbot, pretending to take her comments at face value. “What a romantic story.”
“I’m not sure romantic is the right word.” Talbot emptied her glass of champagne as a butler approached. She set the empty flute on the tray, snagging another. After another long sip of the sparkling wine, she leaned a little closer to Evie. “Men his age feel they still have a lot to prove. Don’t you find that to be so?”
Evie widened her eyes. “He hasn’t tried anything with you, has
he?”
Talbot gave a little huff of surprised laughter. “No, no, definitely not me. I’m nowhere near important enough for the secretary to notice.”
“So I suppose he’s not bothering the clerical help, then.” Evie darted another quick glance across the terrace. Jesse had moved out of sight.
She swallowed a sigh.
“Oh, no. Unless you’re already occupying the Oval Office, if you’re serious about furthering your career, you never cheat down. You only cheat up.” Talbot laughed at her own joke, her cheeks flushed from the champagne. “This town makes you cynical quickly.”
Evie saw Talbot’s gaze wander across the terrace to a spot near the door where a handsome man in his late thirties was talking to a well-dressed woman in her mid-forties. “Your husband?” she asked Talbot.
Talbot smiled, but Evie wasn’t sure there was any pleasure behind the expression. “Yes, that’s Robert.”
“The woman he’s talking to looks familiar.”
“That’s Senator Dalloway from West Virginia. She’s probably lobbying him for fewer coal-industry regulations or something.”
“Shouldn’t she be talking to Secretary Gamble instead?”
“Good luck finding him.” Talbot drained her second glass of champagne. “He came without Phyllis tonight, so he won’t be sticking around long.”
“Can’t stand to stay away from her very long?”
Talbot laughed. “More like, it’s his chance to disappear for a few hours without his wife wondering where he is.” She started to trade her empty glass for another full one but held herself in check. She shot Evie an apologetic look. “I’ve been rambling, haven’t I? I should know better than to drink on an empty stomach.” She waved at one of the butlers carrying hors d’oeuvres. He detoured to her side and she selected a couple of tiny puff pastries from his tray, thanking him.
“I’ve enjoyed talking to you,” Evie said, meaning it. And not just because the woman had provided a whole new element to Morris Gamble’s connection to the Espera Group.
Talbot changed the topic to fashion, a subject that left Evie floundering for something intelligent to say. As soon as she could do so politely, she excused herself and went looking for Jesse. The look of relief in his eyes when he spotted her made her insides go liquid and warm.
“Don’t wander off without letting me know,” he said in a raspy growl.
“Sorry. Talbot was in the mood to talk, so I didn’t want to interrupt.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and edged him away from the crowd, looking for someplace relatively quiet. She found an unoccupied corner of the ballroom and drew him with her into its cozy confines.
He looked at her, curious. “You learned something?”
“Maybe.” She lowered her voice. “I think Secretary Gamble is having an affair.”
Chapter Nine
Dinner, followed by a visit to the drawing room, interrupted Evie’s account of her conversation with Talbot Dreier, forcing Jesse to chafe through an hour of polite conversation before he could even think about getting her alone again.
He saw his chance about thirty minutes into their visit to the drawing room, when the ambassador mentioned there would be dancing in the ballroom beginning at nine-thirty. Most of the ambassador’s contemporaries, who made up the bulk of the drawing room crowd, chuckled at the announcement, but a few minutes later, the ambassador himself approached Jesse and Evie, smiling indulgently.
“We old grumps may prefer to stay here, smoke cigars and drink brandy, but you, my dear, are entirely too lovely to rub elbows with old men when the opportunity to dance with your companion presents itself.” He looked at Jesse with an indulgent smile. “Go enjoy yourselves. You’ll be staid and boring in due time.”
Since the secretary of energy had already left for the evening, Jesse saw no reason not to do as the ambassador asked. The idea of dancing cheek to cheek with Evie posed a temptation he was in no mood to ignore tonight.
They made their way back to the ballroom, where a group of musicians had assembled in one corner of the room and was playing a slow, bluesy version of “I Only Have Eyes for You.”
Evie looked up at Jesse. “The terrace?”
He nodded agreement, stifling an unexpected twinge of disappointment at being denied the chance to take her in his arms and dance her around the ballroom floor. But when they reached the terrace, he saw that most of the couples braving the cool night air were dancing as well, as the music from the ballroom carried all the way across the corridor to the outdoors.
Jesse held out his hand. “No avoiding it now.”
She smiled and took his hand, letting him pull her into his arms. “I hope you’re better at this than I am.”
“I’ve been to a Marine Ball or two.” He guided her slowly around the terrace, looking for a place where they could continue their conversation without being overheard. They headed down a set of steps into the garden itself before they found a spot secluded enough to risk speaking freely, and even then, they were in view of several other couples strolling through the gardens under the watchful eyes of embassy staff.
Jesse pulled her back into his arms and started to dance again, even though the music was barely audible from where they stood. “Loosen up, Evie. We have to look as if we’re enjoying ourselves. Now, tell me what Talbot Dreier told you.” Jesse bent his head closer, his cheek brushing hers. He closed his eyes for a second, fighting a fierce rush of desire that threatened to overwhelm his usual sense of control.
“It was all innuendo,” Evie admitted, “but I don’t think I’m wrong about what she meant.” She repeated the conversation in detail. “Do you see why I think he’s having an affair?”
He did. “Secretary Gamble was here for a few minutes early in the evening, gave his regrets to the ambassador and left.”
“Did anyone else leave at the same time?” she asked, sounding curious.
“If so, nobody commented on it.”
“Surely someone knows who he’s seeing on the side, don’t you think?” As a couple of guests moved near them, she stepped closer, lifting her face toward his. “Just pretend we’re any young couple, dancing together in the British ambassador’s rose garden.” He heard a hint of dry humor in her voice.
If she knew what her touch did to him, would she find the situation so amusing? He could barely breathe, his heart racing like a rabbit chased by a coyote. Desire coiled low in his belly, a wily serpent preparing to strike.
He wanted her. Time to deal with reality.
He had never thought of her as anything but Rita’s sister before now. Never considered what it would be like to touch her, kiss her or make love to her. He’d been Rita’s fiancé and she’d been Rita’s sister. The relationship had begun and ended there.
But he wasn’t Rita’s now. Rita had found someone else, someone she loved. And the way he felt these days when Evie was around—what if that meant something important? What if there could be more than simple animal attraction between them? Was that even possible?
She smelled good. Felt good, her curvy body soft against his.
She lifted her face, gazing at him. He saw a question there, deep in the smoldering blue depths of her eyes. His body quickening in answer, he tightened his arm around her waist, drawing her closer still. Her hands flattened against his back, her hips sliding against his thighs. He flexed his leg, and her body shifted, her legs parting, tangling with his.
He exhaled in a rush, pressing his forehead against hers. “Evie—”
She cradled his face between her palms. “Yes?”
He gazed at her, drowning in arousal.
Sliding upward, her breasts flattening against his chest, she kissed him.
A low groan rumbled through him as he responded, his mouth hard and hungry over hers. She parted her lips, inviting him in, her tongue dancing against his, sending shudders rippling down his spine. The sound of murmured conversation around them faded away, leaving only the thunderous cadence of his pulse in h
is ears and the ragged whisper of their mingled breaths.
You broke her heart.
General Marsh’s voice rang in Jesse’s head, a memory and an indictment. Another memory flashed through his desire-addled brain, breaking through the heat. Rita’s face, stained by tears and misery. She’d asked so little of him, hadn’t she? Just to find another career, away from the Marine Corps and the constant threat of danger. He could have done it. Hell, he had done it, when leaving the Marine Corps had suited his own needs.
He closed his hands over Evie’s arms and set her away from him.
“No.” He released his grip on her, feeling ill.
She stared at him, trying to breathe without gasping. “No?”
“We can’t do this.”
A look of dismay flitted across her face before her expression went neutral. “Oh.”
He lifted his hand to touch her again but let it drop back to his side. “It’s a bad idea on every level. I never should have let it happen. You’re Rita’s sister.”
“Right.” Her jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“Nobody’s fault. And no harm done.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I got caught up in the romance of this place, I guess.” She laughed lightly. “We’re lucky it wasn’t poor Agent Darcy who was out here dancing with me! What would he have thought when I planted one on him?”
Jesse felt a stab of jealousy at the thought, but he fought to cover it. “Right. Caught up in the moment.”
“We should probably be mingling with the crowd, shouldn’t we?” Around them, the other couples had started moving inside as the October night deepened, bringing with it an uncomfortable chill. He slowly followed Evie to the terrace doors.
* * *
EVIE WAS RELIEVED to run into Darcy back in the ballroom, glad for a buffer between her and Jesse after the fiasco in the garden. Darcy stood near the entrance, talking to a man Evie recognized as the State Department spokesman. She’d seen him on television a few times, although she couldn’t remember his name.
