The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  “You like?” Franco asked.

  “It will do.” Even my voice sounded husky and dark.

  “I knew that dress was right. It is as if Bran designed it with you in mind.” Franco fluttered around me, smoothing here, fluffing my hair. “It will bring out the animal in him.”

  Yeah, right. So why did the words have my stomach muscles clenching even tighter.

  A knock on the door interrupted my totally unprofessional thoughts. Thank heavens.

  Franco preened while I shooed away second thoughts. “Think mission. Think mission,” I whispered, running my hands down the silk beads along the waist.

  “So how does she look?” Franco crowed in the doorway.

  I turned, slowly, my attention only on Bran, a dark silhouette behind the smaller man.

  I so could believe he was more fallen angel than warlock right then, with a share of a demon’s pull.

  Time stilled. The lap of the water beneath the bungalow measuring the beat of my pulse. The humid tropical air wrapping around me, did nothing to erase the goosebumps along my arms. Bran’s gaze lasered in on mine. Potent and intimate. Burning and consuming. The mission was forgotten. Franco was forgotten. Only the two of us existed. Nothing more.

  Until Franco cleared his throat. “Well, did I not say the blue would be best for her?”

  “Yes.” Bran’s voice sounded as strangled as my pulse.

  Franco’s gaze ricocheted between the two of us. A smug smile skittered across his lips before he cleared his throat again. “Well, then, I’d—”

  “Goodbye, Franco.” Bran still did not move, did not even look at Franco.

  “But, I’m not finished. There’s still—”

  “Goodbye, Franco.”

  I smiled—not at Franco’s indecision, nor the situation. But at Bran. Mine was a woman’s smile when the heat of a man’s look seared me.

  “Then I shall be off,” Franco’s words trailed away as neither Bran nor I moved.

  Time eased past, slow and tense.

  Bran broke the impasse. “Either we go now or we don’t leave this room for two days.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Bran’s words were plain enough, and oh so tempting. Impossible but tempting. I exhaled a slow, shallow breath of air, calming jittery nerves.

  He was a warlock; I was a witch. He was part of my mission; I was an operative.

  Yup, a definite no go.

  Dredging up the snippets of common sense and professionalism I still possessed, I shook my head, fighting through the lassitude in my limbs even as my thoughts called me a fool.

  I grabbed a beaded purse matching the dress and straightened my shoulders. “Let’s go then.”

  Bran said nothing, which was just as well. One word, one murmur, and I’d forget all my best intentions, the mission, and the million other reasons why an Idaho farm girl did not get involved with a man like him.

  He walked slightly behind me on the crushed rock path, beneath an inverted bowl of stars. The breeze whispered palm fronds as we approached the twinkling lights outlining the outdoor infinity pool, crowded now with mingling guests and heated by the hot licks of a salsa band.

  I paused. Once I stepped into the circle of light there’d be no going back.

  Bran drew even with me, slipping his arm through mine. The skin of his hands warmed my bare arms. His voice was no longer raw but still intimate. “I did not know you feared anything.”

  “I’m not afraid.” Just crowds of strangers in fancy clothes who’ve been groomed with impeccable manners since the cradle. No pig farmers in this group.

  “Yet you tremble.”

  So maybe one of his gifts was to read emotions, too.

  His words from a French rooftop came back to haunt me. I’d trembled then too when he touched me and he’d called me frightened. Tonight I couldn’t afford to be afraid, no matter how far out of my element I was.

  “It’s this dress of yours.” I fought to keep my tone light and casual. Pretend you’re Vaughn. She could do this with her eyes closed. “It exposes far too much skin.”

  His predator’s grin in the darkness alerted me to my slip. A demon angel grin.

  “I know.” He brushed his lips close to my ear, scrambling my brain cells. “We can still return to the bungalow.”

  Too easy an escape on too many levels.

  “Not an option.” I wished for more force behind my words.

  “So be it.” He leaned forward and skimmed a kiss across my bare shoulder; an intimate brand marking me all the way to my soul. “But remember, I did offer.”

  As if I’d ever forget. And the kiss. That was not fair, not fair at all.

  Mission, think mission. Hard to do when it was a challenge to think at all.

  Fortunately I didn’t have to move forward on my own volition, the arrival of Dominique did it for me.

  The elegant woman dressed in a pale apricot chiffon design of Bran’s that made her look as if she floated on air, crossed from beside the pool and stepped into the shadows, no doubt recognizing Bran even in the darkness.

  “There you are,” she said in her best hostess voice, snubbing me as if I didn’t exist. “I thought you were ignoring us this evening. And so many guests wanting to speak with you.”

  I bet. This venue was jam-packed; nothing like a murder to bring out the ghouls.

  Guests occupied over one hundred private bungalows and villas reserved for the show and more had been taken; that made a lot of people wanting a piece of him.

  Dominique stepped closer, then froze when she recognized me.

  “What are you doing here?” The hostess voice had disappeared.

  “She’s with me.” Bran’s tone gave me courage. Not that I needed it. Well, maybe just a little. Okay, a lot.

  “She’s what?” Dominique’s gaze snapped to Bran’s. “You can’t—”

  “I can and am.” He stepped around his cousin. “Don’t make a fuss, Dom. It’s unbecoming.”

  Take that serpent woman. You grumpy Grimple.

  I stepped forward on my own, holding my head high and ignoring Dominique totally. Payback would come no doubt, but later. For now I had other battles to fight.

  Most of the people around the pool were women. Maldivian waiters wove in and out of their tight groupings, offering fluted champagne glasses, sparkling golden in the subdued light.

  My ring heated. I was surprised it wasn’t searing my skin from the inside out. Who’d have thought so many of the rich and spoiled were also non-human, or enough non-human to register on Ling Mai’s device. On the other hand, combine ruthlessness with longer than average human life spans and it made sense.

  You will have no friends tonight.

  Franco’s words echoed in my awareness as I watched the guests’ expressions shift, distorted by the shimmer of the twinkling lights discreetly nestled in bushes and trees and the flicker of a dozen torches.

  Collette caught my eye and gave me a wicked wink and thumbs up. Other models were more veiled, less obvious in their responses, as if not sure who I was, or what I was doing here. The guests were not as discreet. Some women frowned, especially as Bran shifted his arm from my arm to my waist. A move that startled me. The heat of his hand along the bare skin of my back molten, screaming possession.

  “Mister Bran,” a woman purred, licking her lips as she approached. “Is this one of yours?”

  The woman’s gaze skipped over me as if I were a piece of meat.

  “The gown is mine.” Bran pressed his hand more firmly along my back. “But Alex is an original.”

  “Oh.” The woman looked confused, then shot me a pointed glance, addressing me when she spoke again. “But didn’t I see your picture in the news?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, offering no other answer. I hadn’t been identified as a suspect, just one who found a body. I caught Bran stifling a small smile while the woman glanced between the two of us.

  “But, I—” The woman paused, then took a deep drink from a near-empty glass s
he clutched in her ringed fingers. “Obviously, when Dominique told us—”

  “Told you what?” Bran asked.

  I admired the fact the woman didn’t melt away beneath his tone.

  “Nothing, I must have misunderstood.”

  Wise woman.

  When she disappeared, I leaned toward Bran. “I can’t do my job if you scare everyone away.”

  “That is not my problem.”

  What was it about perfectly reasonable, mature men that made them sulky boys at times?

  I stepped away from him, glancing over my shoulder. He’d done his part, bringing me to the party, now it was up to me to maximize the opportunity. “I’ll see you around.”

  His scowl was all for me this time, making him even more dark and intimidating. Less man and more warlock. But the night was easier to handle when I didn’t have him pulsing emotions through me.

  No friends, only enemies.

  How very astute Franco was. But I hadn’t come to make friends or find allies, nor to linger in the spell of Bran’s presence. I’d come to listen and learn and it was time to start.

  An hour later I had a whole new respect for Vaughn and Vaughn’s world. Meeting and mingling sounded far easier than it was, especially around women who saw me as either the competition or the usurper; both roles placed me beyond the pale.

  Once, when I’d moved from grade school to middle school, I’d experienced the same sensation: the pointed looks, the not-so-subtle jabs, the conversations cut short as I approached. I was not only the sister of four really hot but very choosy brothers, I was also the daughter of a man who raised pigs. So on the one hand girls wanted to use me to get closer to my brothers and on the other hand they wanted to despise me for my dad’s livelihood.

  Van offered to knock a few heads together for me. I adored him for offering, but turned him down flat, deciding to use my own strategy. Franco was right about this, too. Women didn’t fight fair, so to win with them, one had to play their games—only better.

  “You came with Bran?” a woman who looked like a stick insect asked. Her tone implied the concept was inconceivable.

  “Yes.” Then before the woman could turn the knife of her comment, I said. “And he mentioned you.”

  “Me?” Her brows slanted in a dramatic V.

  “Yes. He indicated how well you wore your clothes.”

  “He did?” Gone was the sharp edge of the woman’s tone, replaced by intrigue. “Did he say anything else?”

  “He mentioned your coloring.”

  “Oh, my.” The woman nervously patted lacquer-red helmet hair. “Was that a problem?”

  “Not at all.” I stepped closer. “In fact he was impressed with how dramatic your coloring is, and how well the green sheath you are wearing looks on you.”

  The woman beamed, and I had a new friend for life. The fact this woman was non-human, according to my ring, probably a vampire, didn’t matter. She no longer viewed me as prey, of any kind, but as a useful tool, and one rarely attacked their tools.

  Within twenty minutes I’d learned more than I ever thought possible about the lives, lovers, spouses, and businesses of a dozen women. One was an Italian parliament member; a shifter, another married to an oil tycoon. She was human. Two were daughters of a Saudi Arabian royal family and were some species I couldn’t identify but certainly not human, and a French film star who appeared to have slept with most of the Council of the European Union. She was clearly a succubus.

  I was closer to understanding how easy it was to find potential marks to steal from, and growing more and more surprised by the minute that there hadn’t been more thefts or attempts at blackmail.

  I shamelessly used Bran’s name, reassuring myself that it was only right as he’d win too in increased sales from his adoring fans.

  Every once in a while I’d catch him staring at me as I made sure I remained as far from his immediate orbit as possible. His scowl remained firmly in place, deepening only if I gave him a small hand wave or smile.

  After one such smile on my part Dominique slithered up beside me, her scent of cinnamon and sandalwood strong.

  “I think you’d better leave now,” she said, her voice pitched for my ears only, her smile looking charming to anyone at a distance.

  “But I’m enjoying myself and the night is young.” I realized it was too dark to clearly see Dominique’s eyes turning green-rimmed, but I had no doubt they were. The woman oozed anger.

  “Too bad. All little girls belong safe in their beds before. . .” Dominique let the words slip way.

  “Before?” I didn’t do veiled threats well. Maybe, as long as I remained within the circle of others, now was a good time to punch the buttons and see how far a Grimple, if that’s what Dominique was, would go. “Are you warning me?”

  “Stay away from Bran.”

  “He’s a grown man. I’m sure he’s capable of making his own decisions.”

  “Don’t play with me, hairdresser. I could squash you in a heartbeat.”

  Do or die moment. “Is that what you did to Sasha?”

  Dominique’s features tightened before she looked away and took a deep breath. Her skin shifted but only a smidge before she wrestled her emotions under control.

  “You’re a fool. You may be of interest to Bran tonight, but you won’t be the first pretty face or the last. You mean nothing to him. Do not confuse lust with anything else.”

  Good advice—too bad I had already come to the same conclusion.

  But Dominique wasn’t finished. “I know him much, much better than you ever will.”

  No denying that either.

  “He likes his toys. Lots of toys. But toys can be broken when they are tossed away.” Dominique gave me a full, false smile before sipping her champagne. “Sasha was a pretty play thing once, too.”

  Dominique walked away smiling as I grappled with the parting shot.

  I’d brushed the Bran and Sasha link under the rug. He hadn’t clarified what their relationship had been, but that didn’t mean I could ignore what I’d seen with my own eyes. My job wasn’t to protect him, it was to find a thief and killer. Bran and Sasha? Was that why he’d gone to the spa area that night? A tryst?

  The implications slammed like a full body tackle. If Sasha was Interpol, could she have been investigating Bran directly and not his staff? Is that what had bumped up Interpol’s interest in the thefts? Bran’s involvement? Why was it I kept circling back to the idea he was involved?

  “Did she snub you?” Bran’s voice washed against me.

  I whirled, surprised to be looking straight into those deep blue eyes of his. How had he sneaked up on me?

  “Alex?” he repeated, his voice taking on that warm intimacy that undid me. “Alex, are you all right?”

  “Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I be?” I held the hand with my glass especially still so it wouldn’t shake.

  “You looked suddenly pale. I wanted to make sure you were feeling all right.”

  “I’m fine.” Shattered. Disillusioned. Out of my depth. So very disappointed and totally blindsided. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  So my voice sounded a little sharp and my posture stood a little too brittle. So what?

  The tightening of his eyes told me he wasn’t buying my reassurances. He stepped forward, placing one hand on my shoulder.

  I shrugged his hand off, my smile frozen as I stepped back. Time to regroup. Besides, I had a mini-mission to complete tonight—searching rooms. “Look, maybe I’m a little tired. I’d better be going.”

  “I’ll walk you back.”

  “No.” He looked like he wanted to say something but I cut him off before he could. “I mean, I’ll be all right. You have guests to see to here.”

  He nodded, the movement jerky for him, his gaze still watching mine intently. “I’ll check on you later then.”

  “No.” How many times did I have to say it to him? Given his looks, his position, his power, he probably didn’t hear the word “no” ofte
n and thus didn’t recognize it. Is that what happened to Sasha? She thwarted him and he retaliated and it got out of hand?

  “Alex?”

  “I plan to go straight to bed when I get to the villa. And sleep.” Liar. Liar. “So there’s no point in stopping by later. I won’t be awake.”

  “So be it.” His words said he would give me space, his expression indicated he wasn’t happy with my reasons and didn’t believe them for a moment. But that wasn’t my problem. My problem was in walking away as if there were nothing more pressing than a headache or fatigue bothering me.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “I will be.” As soon as I got away from him and focused on doing my job.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No doubt.” Unless I contacted Kelly and my teammate was able to dig up any history between Bran and Sasha. Any whiff of involvement. My stomach knotted. If anything turned up, then he jumped to the top of the suspect list—again. “Good night.”

  I didn’t wait for his reply but fled into the night.

  Not a coward, I told myself, walking as fast as the skin-tight dress allowed along the deserted path, nearing my quiet bungalow. A wise strategic retreat especially in light of my need to search as many rooms as possible before the party broke up.

  Lost in my plan for the best place to start my hunt, I didn’t see the dark shadow step from behind a bush.

  CHAPTER 38

  Heart pounding a rumba, I shifted on the crushed stone path, flowed into fight mode, legs braced and at an angle, shoulder forward, hands raised, before I even registered who stepped around the heavily scented bush.

  “Cripes, Suzette, you scared me to death.” My breath escaped with a whoosh, even as adrenaline spiked through me. I hadn’t seen much of Suzette since the night of the shifter attack, but then I hadn’t expected to. The girl was smart and it didn’t take a brainiac to figure out hanging around me could be dangerous to one’s health.

  The owlish assistant raised her hands in mock surrender. “Were you going to hurt me?”

  “Of course I wasn’t.” I dropped my hands and willed adrenaline-psyched muscles to relax. “You just scared me that’s all.”