Marissa watched as Courtney retrieved two boxes from the bag. She set them beside one another on the bed and then turned to Marissa.
“You’ll thank me for this later. I promise.”
Uh-oh. Marissa wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
Courtney opened one of the boxes and pulled out a pair of… “Oh, my God. Are those Jimmy Choos?”
“They are. And you’re gonna look stunning in them.”
“If I don’t break my neck.” Courtney gave her a get real look, but Marissa shrugged it off. “What? I haven’t exactly had any reason to dress up in quite a long time. I’m not sure I even remember how to walk in those things.”
“It’s like ridin’ a bike. You never forget.”
Honestly, Marissa liked the red, strappy heels. They were both feminine and sexy. But that made her wonder what the dress looked like.
Courtney obviously read her expression because she walked to the closet and took down one of the two dress bags, unzipping it as she moved back to where Marissa was still standing.
“Please don’t tell me that’s a re—”
“Red it is,” Courtney exclaimed merrily. “And you’re gonna look so freakin’ hot in it.”
Lord.
Marissa stared at the red number, not sure whether or not it qualified as an actual dress since there wasn’t much to it. But she had to admit it was sexy as hell. Now as for if it would look sexy on her, that was yet to be seen.
“Let me guess, yours is black,” Marissa said, glaring at her friend.
“Of course. Wanna see?”
Marissa nodded, glancing back at the red dress. She wondered what Trace would think when he saw her in that.
“He’s gonna think you’re hot as hell,” Courtney said as she moved toward her with the other clothing bag.
“I know I didn’t say that out loud,” Marissa declared.
“Didn’t have to. I can read your mind.”
Marissa laughed. Sometimes it seemed as though Courtney could read her mind, but more than likely, she was just basing her assumptions off the way Marissa blushed every time Trace’s name was mentioned.
“What do you think?” Courtney asked.
Marissa turned to see the exquisite yet barely there black dress that Courtney held up.
“If the plan is to use you as a distraction, I’d say it’s gonna work like a charm.”
Courtney’s face lit up. “You know us so well.”
“Considering you’re my brother’s date, and it’s no secret that you’re not equipped with the right parts to please him, I figured that was the plan.”
“My goal is to get close to Duchein.”
Marissa swallowed hard. “Court, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s the only option we have.”
“Why not Max? Why don’t you get close to him? Maybe work that angle.”
Surprisingly, it was Courtney’s turn to blush. Then she shook her head adamantly. “Max and I … we… That won’t work.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Marissa questioned, all joking aside.
Courtney’s white-gray eyes penetrated Marissa. “Max and I kinda have a history together.”
“Oh, my God. Why didn’t I know this?”
“No one knows,” Courtney admitted. “And don’t you dare go runnin’ your mouth.”
Marissa harrumphed. Too many secrets had been kept thus far; she wasn’t sure this was a good idea. If Trace and Ryan knew Courtney had been involved with… “What do you mean by history exactly?”
Courtney waved her off, peering down at the sparkling black dress. “Nothin’ serious. But that’s old news. Tonight, I’ve got my sights set on Duchein.”
The seriousness of the situation hit Marissa like a ton of bricks. “Will you be armed?”
“Of course,” Courtney admitted. “I’m always armed. That’s what these are for.” Courtney held up a pair of thigh-high stockings and a lace thigh holster.
“Where’s mine?” Marissa asked.
“With that dress,” Courtney said, glancing at the red silk, “you won’t have room to hide anything, let alone a gun. But don’t worry. You’ll be with Trace the entire time.”
Marissa dropped to the edge of the bed, her shoulders drooping. “I don’t think this is a good idea. What if someone gets hurt?”
“No one’s gonna get hurt. We’re gonna go in, do our jobs, nail this shithead, and be on our way.”
Right. Like that plan hadn’t backfired for them before.
□«»□«»□«»□
Trace had taken the opportunity to check in with RT after Courtney had arrived at the warehouse to keep Marissa company. During that brief conversation, they had agreed to meet at the Sniper 1 office and from that moment forward had spent nearly two hours going over the plans for the evening once Colby, Conner, and Z had joined them.
Using a set of building plans Austin had managed to locate, they had successfully pinpointed all the exits that they could find. At least the ones that were on the pages they had in front of them. As RT had mentioned, there were likely other exits, secret tunnels, and ultimately a bolt hole that the Adorites could use if necessary, although they didn’t believe that detail was printed on any builder drawings. If nothing else, the Adorites were smart and prepared for anything.
“Any word on Rhames?” Colby asked after they’d hashed out the details for the fourth time.
RT instantly glanced at Z and the hair on the back of Trace’s neck stood on end.
When neither man said anything, Trace asked, “Where is he?”
“In a secure location,” Z confirmed.
Trace stared down his roommate, pissed that he’d been kept in the dark on this mission. “Where?”
“Where no one will find him until this is over. Not the good guys or the bad guys,” RT explained. “He’s not talkin’, and that’s a whole other issue we’ll have to deal with. When the time is right.”
Trace made sure RT saw his anger at being kept out of the loop. He wanted a shot at this asshole, five minutes alone with him to show him what he thought about traitors. Fact was, he would make damn sure the guy didn’t walk without a limp for the rest of his miserable fucking life.
There was a knock on the door, and then it opened, Dom and Austin joining them in the conference room. Dom stepped up to the table, gave the papers a brief once-over, and then looked up with a shit-eating grin. “We came bearing gifts.”
Austin tossed a small box to each of them, and only when they were opening them did he start to explain what they were. “Our newest invention. Two-way, inner-ear radios. No one will be able to see them, and they’re not detectable by any electronic device. Best of all, they’re all controlled by these.”
Another box came flying toward Trace. He caught it in midair, flipping open the lid and glimpsing the impressive Luminox watch inside.
“Nice,” Z said. “Must’ve made a nice slice in the budget to get approval for these.”
“Only the best for the best,” Dom said. “And we’ve modified them to work with the transmitters. There’s a button on the side that’ll activate them.”
“Very double-oh-seven of you,” Colby stated with a chuckle.
“Don’t lose ’em.”
“I assume they’ve been thoroughly tested?” RT asked.
“Of course,” Austin confirmed. “We damn sure wouldn’t send you out on a mission—especially this one—without knowing for sure they won’t fail you.”
Everyone seemed content with that knowledge, their agreement in the various grunts that followed. Trace removed the watch from the box and secured it around his wrist. As for the earpiece … he wasn’t sure what the hell he would do with that. Chances were, he was going to lose the damn thing.
“On the band, you’ll find a place to store the transmitter,” Dom said, obviously reading Trace’s mind. “But remember, if it ain’t in your ear, it won’t make a damn bit of difference.”
Trace smiled
but then placed the transmitter in the compartment Dom was referring to.
“Well, I’m out. I’ve gotta get ready,” Trace stated. Looking at RT, he followed with, “Meet you at my place at eight?”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“And you three’ll be in place?” Trace asked the others.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
By the time Trace made it back to the warehouse, it was going on seven thirty. He only had half an hour before go time, but he only needed ten minutes to get ready. That included putting on the monkey suit that Courtney had informed him he’d be wearing.
Once inside his place, Trace was greeted with silence, both the living room and the kitchen empty, but as he traipsed toward his bedroom, he heard giggling coming from the other side of the guest room door, so he figured Marissa and Courtney were finishing with their preparations. He’d never understood why it took women so damn long to get ready, and he certainly wasn’t about to question it now.
Without hesitating, he quickly shaved and showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed, returning to the living room in… Trace glanced down at the military-grade watch he still had on his wrist. Well, look at that. It’d taken him fifteen minutes, so he’d been wrong.
The next thing he knew, there was a knock at the door. He pulled it open to allow RT in.
“You clean up nice,” Trace joked.
“I’d say the same for you, but I think you’re missin’ somethin’.”
RT nodded toward him, his eyes going to Trace’s throat.
Damn it. So he did have to wear the stupid bow tie.
“Z’s drivin’ us,” RT informed him when he made his way back to the living room after putting on the noose.
Trace was pulling at the tie when he heard the sound of the guest room door open. He turned to see Courtney stepping out, looking very nice in her black dress and matching heels. But then, the moment his sister moved out the way, Trace got a glimpse of Marissa, and he was pretty damn sure he swallowed his own fucking tongue.
RT whistled. “Y’all look nice.”
Nice? Seriously? That was all RT had. Nice? No. Not nice. Marissa looked… Holy fuck.
Realizing he was still staring, Trace lifted his gaze to Marissa’s face, finding her staring back at him. He took three steps, closing the gap between them. He placed one hand on her hip, the other cupping her cheek as he smiled back at her. “You don’t look nice. You look fucking amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.
Trace couldn’t help himself, he leaned in closer to her ear and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “And when we get back here tonight, I look forward to taking this dress off of you. With my teeth.”
Marissa’s sharp intake of breath made his dick harden more than it was already.
Down, boy.
There was no time for that. He needed to get his mind on the mission, not on the sexy woman in the red dress. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pull this off tonight, especially when he’d have the hottest date in the place, but he knew he had no other choice.
“Weapons?” RT asked.
Courtney patted her thigh. “Locked and loaded.”
RT turned to Trace. “You?”
Trace nodded. He had his Glock in the shoulder holster, a .38 on his ankle, and his trusty KA-BAR on him, as well.
“What about you?” RT asked Marissa.
Marissa smiled back at her brother. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anywhere to hide one.”
“She won’t be leavin’ my side,” Trace assured her brother.
“Agree. All right. If y’all are ready, I am,” RT said with a grin.
Everyone moved toward the door, and Trace mentally ran through his weapons once more, all while staring at Marissa’s incredibly fine ass.
Lord, it was going to be a long night.
Thirty-Nine
“Courtney,” Max Adorite greeted as the four of them approached the intimidating man standing in an oversized room that resembled a banquet hall. A very lavish, expensively decorated banquet hall.
Not quite what Marissa had expected to find at someone’s residence, certainly not this one, but to each his own.
However, despite the fact that she was a little distracted by the décor, Marissa found it interesting that Max chose to speak to Courtney first, instead of greeting Ryan or Trace. Then again, based on what Courtney had told her earlier, they had history together. If the way Max looked at Courtney was anything to go by, Marissa had to believe it was some serious history.
“Max,” Courtney replied, her voice cold, emotionless. “You’ve met Ryan Trexler. This is Trace Kogan and this is Ryan’s sister, Marissa.”
“Very nice to see you again,” Max said, smiling as he took Marissa’s hand.
She instantly noticed Trace’s glare, the way his eyes narrowed on Max.
“Likewise,” Marissa replied in kind.
“Thank you again for the invitation,” Ryan said, his eyes scanning the room.
Max looked directly at Ryan. “Well, I’d say that I’m happy to see you again, but I’d be lying. However, I do hope you manage to enjoy yourselves tonight,” Max said dismissively, his eyes traveling over Courtney once again before stopping on her face. “As for you, I hope you’ll save at least one dance for me tonight.”
Courtney didn’t respond, but Marissa noticed the pink flush that seared her friend’s cheeks. She wasn’t unaffected by Max, clearly.
“What was that about?” Trace growled when Max was out of earshot.
“None of your business,” Courtney snapped. “I’d like a drink.”
With that, Courtney walked away, Ryan following close behind. Beside Marissa, Trace stood stone still, watching as his sister disappeared into a crowd of people.
“She knows what she’s doing,” Marissa said softly, drawing Trace’s attention toward her.
Trace didn’t respond, but she hadn’t expected him to. He looked fit to be tied, probably plotting how to beat the hell out of Max for dating his sister at some point.
Men.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“We mingle. And we wait for Dan Duchein to make his appearance.”
Marissa nodded, accepting Trace’s hand when he reached for her. As she figured he would, Trace led her in the same direction Courtney had gone. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but she hoped, for all their sakes, he could leave it be for the night. They had a job to do, one that they couldn’t screw up. No matter what.
□«»□
An hour in and nothing had happened, making Marissa believe the night was going to be a bust. They’d mingled with the rich and some of the famous, pretending to drink champagne and laugh along with the various stories being told, all while Trace scanned the room looking for Duchein. Marissa started to believe the man was a no-show.
Maybe Max had just extended the invite to see Courtney. The interest she’d seen in Max’s gaze when he’d looked at Courtney was potent enough to set off the smoke alarms, so she wouldn’t put it past him. Then again, how could he have known she’d be there? Either way, Marissa’s hopes were beginning to plummet.
“Dance with me.”
Marissa’s head snapped to the side to see Trace staring at her intently. “Me?”
A smirk tilted the corner of his lips and she sighed. It did it to her every time. “Only you.”
When his big, warm hand enveloped hers as he led her to the dance floor, Marissa stayed close to him. And when he pulled her into his arms, she sighed once again.
So, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if the night was uneventful. At least she had this. Dancing with Trace… It was something she’d imagined but never truly thought would come to fruition. Not necessarily because she didn’t think she’d ever get this close to the man, but she knew Trace. He wasn’t much of a dancer.
Or so she’d thought.
For the next two slow songs, Mariss
a lost herself in Trace, impressed by his masculine grace, intoxicated by his scent, the headiness of being so close to him. Wrapped in his powerful arms, she never wanted him to let her go. And perhaps he wouldn’t have, but when his body tensed, Marissa instantly knew the night was about to take a drastic turn.
“Button on the left of my watch. Press it.”
Because Marissa was holding his hand, she deftly hit the first one she saw, hoping it was the right one.
“I’ve got eyes on Duchein. Nine o’clock.”
Marissa peered up at Trace, wondering if Ryan was responding, but unable to hear thanks to the tiny transmitter she’d seen him insert into his ear during the drive over.
“Roger that,” Trace finally answered.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, still holding tightly to him, forcing herself not to squeeze too tightly. The last thing she wanted was for Trace to know how scared she really was.
She couldn’t deny the fact that she was freaked out. Knowing that the man who was out to kill her was in the very same room was making her incredibly nervous. She’d watched horror movies and read plenty of thrillers to know that a well-formulated plan generally went awry when the bad guy saw it coming. Since this guy always seemed to be one step ahead of them, she figured he was on to them.
According to what they’d told her, Duchein had met with her father, as well as Casper, Trace, and Ryan, which meant he would know they were on to him merely from their presence at Max’s party.
Seriously, it wasn’t as though they ran in the same circles.
And now, Marissa feared she was merely biding her time.
□«»□«»□«»□
Trace felt Marissa shiver in his arms as he continued to hold her close, gracefully moving her around the dance floor, flowing with the oblivious couples around them.
Glancing down at her, he tucked one hand beneath her chin and forced her to look at him.
“You’re safe with me, Marissa. I swear to you, on my life, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He could tell she didn’t believe him, but he respected her ability to placate him with a subtle nod. He continued to watch her, doing his best not to look over at Duchein. RT was heading in the man’s direction, intending to head him off. Not wanting to spook the guy, Trace opted to focus all his attention on Marissa.
Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) Page 33
