Bulletproof Princess

Home > Other > Bulletproof Princess > Page 7
Bulletproof Princess Page 7

by It Girls


  Anger churned in Chloe's throat, but she swallowed it. "Then I suggest you bring your checkbook, Mother. Father, too." Her mother was a successful designer and nearly as wealthy as Chloe. Her father had done well for himself, too, in antiquities. They could afford to be extra generous, and she was just angry enough to encourage it.

  "We will be attending, of course. And we'll certainly make the Halloween Ball at the end of the month."

  "Wonderful. I'll see you— "

  "I noticed that Ryan Greene was mentioned in Rubi's column as well."

  He was Manhattan's most eligible and gorgeous bachelor, according to Rubi. She clearly had a crush on him, not that Chloe could blame her. He was charming.

  "Why can't you get involved with someone like him, Chloe? Look at the stabilizing influence he's had on Erik."

  "I'm stable enough alone, thank you." Chloe sighed, bone weary of battling her mother. "I've got to go. Busy day."

  She hung up the phone before her mother could say anything else to upset her— she had a stomach full of upset already thanks to Jack— and leaned over and pressed her forehead against the bar, then groaned. "God, I don't need this."

  The phone rang again. "Hello."

  "Chloe, it's me." Emma sounded urgent. "Duck your mother's calls. Rubi got art and her forked tongue is firmly in her cheek. Olivia called. Renee has an appointment. We're to meet her for tea at 10:30 instead of 9:00. There's been a development."

  "Too late on my mother. I've seen the art— it sucks— and what development?" God, hadn't enough crises hit them already?

  "She thinks someone in the club has betrayed us."

  "So do we. Tatiana." That was pretty much a certainty and they both knew it. "You weren't identified. That's pretty much a dead giveaway it's her."

  "No, Chloe. Directly to the enemy, on the assignment."

  "Oh, no." This was worse. The G.R.C. could be exposed.

  "Use the alley," Emma said. "The press is camped out front, determined to find out the truth about Marcus's death, your kidnapping and now this ordeal at Hollow Hill. Renee doesn't want us talking to the media until after we talk with her."

  The honchos knew it all. Damn it. "Okay." Chloe rubbed her forehead, which was now throbbing.

  She caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced over at the sofa. "Um, I need to go, Emma. Harrison's awake."

  "It's about time," she said, mirroring Chloe's thoughts. "Don't be late."

  "I won't." Chloe hung up the phone, went to the kitchen and retrieved a cup of coffee, then brought it to Harrison, who was now sitting upright and rubbing his temples. "Coffee?"

  He took the cup. "Chloe, why in hell am I on your sofa?"

  Angry. And in pain. "Can I get you a couple aspirin or something?"

  He glared at her. "You can answer my damn question."

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do with you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You fainted— "

  "I do not faint."

  "Okay, then." Frank was right, as usual. Harrison Howell was thoroughly and totally furious. "You passed out. I brought you here. You slept, and now you're awake."

  He reached for his gun.

  "It's on the mantel." The bullets were on the kitchen bar.

  He sipped at the coffee. "I bent down to get your coat inside the car, and we bumped heads."

  "Actually, we bumped mouths."

  He slanted her a sidelong look. "And that knocks men out?"

  "Um, no, not usually. Not exactly." She really didn't want to admit this, but there was no help for it. She stood out of his reach but near the sofa. "Do you know Alan Burke?"

  Harrison sipped from his cup. "The Gotham Rose Club's resident genius."

  She nodded. "It was his lip film. I had it on, and when we bumped mouths— pow— you were lights-out."

  Harrison grunted. "You should have called Renee."

  "You might have gone up on report." She shrugged. "It was totally my fault, and I didn't want you to get into trouble. After all, you were helping me, so it wouldn't have been right."

  He sent her an indecipherable look— maybe appreciation or disbelief, maybe censure. "How did we bump mouths?"

  Heat rushed up her neck to her face, and she shrugged. "It was an accidental thing."

  "I see." He stared hard at her, but didn't challenge her response. "May I use your bathroom?"

  Relieved, she let go of some of the tension. "Of course." She motioned. "Third door on the left."

  Harrison stood up and swayed, shook his head to clear it, and then disappeared down the hallway.

  Chloe slipped into a pair of black Valentino slacks and a crisp white Adelphio blouse with a stand-up collar, hastily smeared on some lip-gloss and ran a brush through her hair, then returned to the living room, glad her housekeeper was away.

  Harrison sat on the sofa, holding a hot coffee cup against his forehead. "If the offer stands, I'll take those aspirin."

  She glanced at the mantel. He'd retrieved his gun…and his bullets from the counter. "Sure." She poured him a glass of orange juice and snagged the bottle of aspirin. "Here you go."

  "Thanks." He wolfed down three of them then set the bottle on the glass-top coffee table. "So tell me something."

  He wasn't going to shoot her. Feeling certain of it now, she sat down in a chair beside the sofa. "If I can, I will."

  "You can, but I seriously doubt that you will." He forked his fingers through his hair, ruffling more than smoothing it. "Why do you take that flack from your mother?"

  That was one question she hadn't expected. Obviously, he'd been awake longer than she'd realized, and he'd overheard her and her mother arguing on the phone. Great. Chloe pasted on a smile, but answered by rote. "What would she do without me to be disappointed in?" Tossing out the canned response she'd used successfully so often should make her comfortable, but it didn't. For some reason, it sounded flat. "I'm her fodder."

  He looked at her through cool, gray eyes. "She has no idea who you are or what you do— I mean, outside of the agency."

  "None," Chloe said. "And I intend to keep it that way."

  He frowned and reached for his glasses, then seated them on the bridge of his nose. "Why?"

  Something in the timbre of his voice told her the inquiry was more than idle curiosity, so Chloe told him. "She ruins everything, Harrison. She doesn't mean to do it, she just does. I've worked really hard to build my companies, and many, like Adelphio, involve other people. I won't have her ruining them."

  "So you're not hiding from her." He softened his voice but the look in his eyes remained unyielding. "If you're hiding from her, Chloe, then she's controlling you."

  "I'm not hiding." And if she was, she couldn't admit that even to herself much less to one of the Governess's representatives. "She's going to be nose-in to someone's business. If not mine, then whose?"

  "Your service to mankind is appreciated— at least, by me. But it wouldn't hurt for her to nose-in on Erik for a while."

  "Erik?" What did Harrison know about her brother?

  "He's keeping fast company these days. Someone needs to take an honest look at what he's doing."

  "What is he doing? And what fast company?"

  "Ryan Greene, Brit Carouthers, and until he was killed, Marcus Abbot Sterling, III."

  A bit of a surprise there. "Who is Brit Carouthers?"

  "Caulfield Carouthers's brother. When Caulfield got arrested, someone took over his illegal activities. Brit may have been elected."

  Chloe frowned. She knew Caulfield Carouthers had been busted for running a drug ring. Fellow Rose agent Vanessa Dawson had been part of bringing him down. "Erik was friends with Marcus?"

  "In a way." Harrison reached for his cup and took a sip. The steam curled up into the air. "Marcus helped your brother lose a great deal of his fortune. Now Erik is in business with Greene and Carouthers."

  Chloe's jaw dropped. "I had no idea."

  "No one did, except us," H
arrison said.

  Marcus hadn't been the Duke. His death hadn't led Harrison to the Duke, either, since the Roses were still searching for him. Disappointing for all of them. "So what are you saying? That Ryan and Brit are a bad influence on Erik?"

  "I'm saying Prince Erik is just as bad as Ryan and Brit. They're all overindulged, spoiled and self-destructive."

  Harrison's opinion startled her. "Maybe Brit is corrupt. But Ryan is a darling. Everyone loves him."

  "He's a Rose slut, Chloe, doing his damnedest to sleep with every one of you."

  Blunt again. "I guess he is," she agreed, being equally honest. "But it's typical for a man in his position to date women in mine. And he's a huge champion of women's causes, Harrison. Is that what you don't like about him?"

  "Of course not." Harrison frowned, looking truly affronted.

  "What is it then?"

  "His damn veneer teeth."

  That left her reeling. "Excuse me?"

  "His teeth." Harrison bared his own and tapped them. "Veneers are okay, if there's substance under them. With Ryan, there's only blind ambition behind his porcelain-whites."

  Well, she couldn't dispute him on that. Not after some of the real estate deals she'd seen him and Madison Taylor-Pruitt compete for. Ryan consistently went for the jugular. But so did Madison, and more often than not, she won. "Is that how you see Erik, too?" Chloe asked Harrison.

  "I know you're protective of him, but your first loyalty has to be to the Governess now, and to your mission."

  "I'm well aware of my responsibilities— and that you didn't answer my damn question."

  "Erik's ambition isn't blind," he said. "He sees it very clearly, and you can keep protecting him, as you have, provided there's no collision of loyalties. If there is, the Governess wins, regardless of who gets hurt. That's not negotiable."

  The truth hit Chloe hard. "You saw Erik last night at Hollow Hill, too."

  Harrison nodded. "Do you know why he was there?"

  "No, I don't." But she'd wondered a lot since learning it.

  "And you can't ask him without revealing that you know he was there, too." Harrison grimaced. "Perfect."

  Harrison knew too much, knew her too well, and his assessments made her nervous as hell. Erik had always pushed the edge and done as much as he could get away with doing. He had a string of successes at getting away with things for which he should have been punished— her fault. Had her covering for him and making his mistakes and indiscretions disappear encouraged him to risk bigger mistakes and indiscretions? What if he was the Duke?

  Her chest went tight and she couldn't breathe. It would kill her mother. Humiliate her father— and he'd worked so hard to become a worthy man in his own right, without his crown. And if Chloe was forced to expose Erik… Oh, God.

  She thought it through. It'd be bloody awful. Her mother couldn't be any more disappointed in her than she was already. But she could alienate Chloe— and she likely would. No one damaged her baby boy.

  "I'm sorry," Harrison said. He stood and walked over to her chair. "And I'm sorry about Jack, too."

  "Who is he— really?"

  Harrison cocked his head. "A reporter, Chloe."

  "No," she said. "Harrison, he thinks you might be connected to the Duke. He knows far too much for a reporter."

  "Me?" Harrison looked shocked.

  "I know." She touched his sleeve. "He obviously doesn't know that you work for the Governess. But what I want to know is how he knows about the Duke at all?"

  "You didn't tell him?" Harrison asked without censure. "Pillow talk?"

  "Of course not. I'd never put him in jeopardy."

  "Calm down, Princess. Just asking a legitimate question."

  "He betrayed me, Harrison." She let him see her pain in her eyes. "I trusted him, and he lied to me."

  He returned her gaze with that haunted look she'd first noticed in his own. "I'm sorry."

  Her stomach clenched. She stood, looked up into his face and saw his regret shining in his eyes. He really was sorry. "Harrison, am I going to lose my family over this mission?" Her family wasn't perfect, but it was hers, and the idea of losing it was almost more than she could bear.

  "I don't know." He clasped her shoulders. "But if you do, I'll be here to help you. It's not much, Chloe, but it's the best I can do."

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She blinked hard. "Thank you." She didn't trust him, would never again trust any man, but they weren't all lying scum. "You seem like a good person, Harrison." One with a kind heart.

  "Actually, I'm a man with an agenda."

  Uneasy, Chloe tried to back away but the chair was against her calves. "What agenda?"

  The look in his eyes warmed. "I know last night was an accident— that mouth bump— but I want to see if your kiss knocks me to my knees as much today."

  "It won't," she said, with a little smile. "No lip film."

  "Unless you object." He dipped his chin and spoke against her mouth. "I think I'll judge that for myself."

  "I shouldn't. Jack broke my heart."

  "Is there a time when a woman needs tenderness more?"

  Tears filmed her eyes. "No, there isn't." On a breathy sigh, she tiptoed and pressed her mouth to his— and while his knees seemed fine, hers went a little weak.

  Chapter 6

  At 10:32 a.m., Chloe entered the Gotham Rose Club through the private parking garage. Olivia met her at the back door and sent her straight to the sunroom, where Renee and Emma sat waiting.

  Chloe held up a hand. "I know I'm two minutes off, but Frank had to circle to escape the paparazzi."

  Renee stood and pointedly checked her watch. "I have 10:30, straight up and down. Emma?"

  She didn't even look. "10:30."

  "Ah, you made it then," Renee said. "Sit down and I'll pour you a cup of tea." She was already reaching for the pot.

  Chloe dragged in a steadying breath. "So how bad is it?"

  Emma's expression was sour, which told Chloe all she really needed to know.

  "Drink your tea, and both of you listen well," Renee said. "We're going to go out and meet with the press. Do not open your mouths until I've finished with my statement. When I do and they ask questions, turn every answer into a commercial for the date auction tonight, which will benefit the women I'll be discussing." She dipped her chin. "The Governess and I have consulted and we— and Intel— are certain someone inside Gotham Rose Club betrayed you last night."

  "Tatiana is the obvious choice," Emma said baldly.

  "We have no hard evidence of that, Emma."

  "Screw hard evidence, Chloe. Sometimes you go with common sense." Emma sat up straighter. "She was replaced and angry. She goes clubbing with Rubi. Rubi used almost the exact verbiage in her column that Tatiana used in the dressing room. You were mentioned, I wasn't. It was definitely Tatiana."

  Renee took all that in, thought a moment and then added, "Yet Tatiana has been undercover on four assignments in the last year and she knows exposing Chloe could get her killed."

  "That'd be a bonus," Emma added. "Tatiana hates her."

  "She envies her, darling. There's a difference."

  Chloe was unsure there was that much difference to Tatiana.

  "It isn't that simple." Renee set down her cup, her hand trembling. "Keep your eyes open and watch your backs." Fear burned in her eyes. "I— I can't do this."

  "Do what?" Chloe asked.

  "This assignment." Renee looked from Emma to her. "As of now, this assignment no longer exists. I'm shutting it down."

  "Renee, no!" Emma insisted loudly. "We're so close."

  "I know that." Renee's face twisted. "But I can't risk the lives and reputations of the women here, and thanks to Rubi, your covers are blown. There's nothing to be done for it except cover it up. Still, the Duke will know the cover-up is just smoke and mirrors. He'll figure out why you were there, and he'll retaliate. I feel it."

  The hair on Chloe's neck stood on end. "I guess that's it then. W
e meet with the press, then close the case." She had to tell Renee. "You know what happened last night?"

  "Emma filled me in, yes."

  "You know Jack came to my apartment before dawn, too?"

  "No, that I didn't know."

  Figures. She couldn't catch a break with both hands and a net. "He's investigating this, Renee. He knew about the Duke. Actually, he's on the wrong track— he thinks Harrison Howell could be working for the Duke— but how does he know anything about the Duke at all?"

  Renee stiffened but showed no other signs of alarm. "I suppose I'll have to find out."

  A chill started at the base of her spine and swept up to the base of her neck. "You'll be asking the Governess, then?"

  "Of course, my dear." She sighed. "There's no choice." She lifted a hand. "If Jack is investigating the same thing we are, then that gives more weight to it being true."

  "By the questions we were asked last night, Renee, there's no doubt about that. I don't know where the women are being taken, but I expect Chloe and I would have found out on Friday."

  "That is not going to happen. Not now." Renee looked from one of them to the other. "There's been too much exposure to risk any more. We can't jeopardize the entire G.R.C."

  Chloe understood that rationale, and felt guilty because she was relieved.

  Emma looked rebellious. "But Renee— "

  She raised a hand. "My mind is made up. Alan has modified the design on the Rose pin to gain greater distance range."

  "We got one last night. He's updated them since then?"

  "Yes," Renee said. "I want all of the Roses to wear the new ones so your locations can be pinpointed at any time. You two are particularly vulnerable. Alan will distribute them after we meet with the press." She stood up. "Ready?"

  Chloe nodded. Emma fell into step beside her and they walked outside. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted. Renee stepped up to a podium and was nearly obscured by the number of microphones. She waited for the reporters to get quiet and then spoke. "You're all interested in the latest flutter created by columnist Rubi Cho, so I'll address that topic immediately."

 

‹ Prev