Angel in the Shadows

by Amy Deason

  Despite the rewards this job would bring, a small part of her hoped the switch would be an inconvenience. While there was no doubt that Vance was charming and polite, she couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed by his excessiveness. Perhaps this was how he greeted everyone, Madison reasoned. I am, after all, out of my league here.

  “A problem? Nonsense. Having an attractive young woman hovering around is never a problem. I would be in sad shape if it were. And please, Madison, call me Vance. Mr. Goldston is my grandfather.”

  Although it didn’t bother her to be addressed by her first name, it struck her as uncouth to regard him with the same familiarity. But tonight he was the boss so she would do as he asked. Taking a moment to retrieve her camera bag, she turned back to the handsome billionaire, flashing him a small smile.

  “Okay. Vance. Where would you like me to start?”

  His laughter was deep and warm, his smile, megawatt bright. “Wonderful. A beautiful woman who gets right to the point. If I didn’t know better Madison, I would think you were after my heart.”

  Laughing lightly, Madison shook her head, playing along as best she could. “Oh no, Vance, I’m not after your heart, only your picture.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” he replied, casually placing his hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the door. The heat from his palm seeped through the thin material of her dress, sending an uncomfortable jolt through her, though she’d never be so rude as to move away.

  “My guests should be arriving soon and we will be in the dining room. I have some things to attend to in the meantime so I’ll leave you in the highly capable hands of my assistant.”

  “Seth,” he called softly.

  Miraculously, Seth appeared, almost as if he had been waiting just outside the open doorway. His cool, colorless eyes slid over her, eliciting another wave of unease.

  “Don’t mind Seth,” Vance replied absently, as if his assistant were not even in the room. “He’s a bit of a cold fish, somewhat lacking in personality. Especially where the ladies are concerned. But he’s extremely efficient and very dependable. Been with me what? A year now?” Vance asked, turning his attention to Seth momentarily.

  “Eleven months, sir.”

  “See what I mean, he stays on top of things. Pays attention to details. Excellent! Seth, would you please show Madison to the dining room?”

  “As you wish, Mr. Goldston. If you’ll follow me.” Turning quickly, Seth led her from the library.

  For a split second, Madison almost longed for the sickly smooth company of Vance and his attractive girlfriend rather than that of his remote assistant.

  She trailed Seth to the dining room and saw with some surprise that while his hair was stylishly cut, it was longer than she realized, brushing the top of his broad shoulders. And he was taller, more solid too. Odd that she would notice something like that.

  The dining room had been carefully arranged with numerous tables scattered throughout the room, each one covered with a pristine white tablecloth and boasting a centerpiece of vibrant flowers, designed to catch the eye.

  Seth turned to her with an emotionless smile.

  “Perhaps the best spot to begin would be at the back of room. As I’m sure you can see, the lighting is better and it would allow you to capture the entire space.” His accommodating manner was completely out of place with the hollow, detached tone in his voice and he seemed to be having trouble maintaining a balance between rudeness and civility.

  Her uneasiness swelled as he stared down at her, his pale eyes disconcerting and intense. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Determined not to reveal her discomfort, she instead offered him her politest smile.

  “Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. I appreciate your advice but I’m sure that I’ll be fine on my own. I can handle myself if you have more important duties to attend to.” She hoped he was smart enough to recognize the dismissal. The last thing she wanted was someone, especially him, hovering, watching every move she made.

  Something dark and violent flared in his pale eyes but just as quickly, it was extinguished. The flat, bland expression returned, making her question if she had seen anything at all.

  “Very well, Ms. Sinclair, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. Gazing at her another long moment, he turned, leaving her alone.

  Thankful to be released from that penetrating stare, the uneasiness ebbed away and she could at last concentrate on what she did best. Removing the camera from its case, she walked slowly through the empty room, taking a few beginning shots from various angles. Damn, Seth had been right. The best place to set up would be at the back of the room. Funny how his clever insight annoyed her.

  Seth moved through the house with a speed and a silence that was absolute. He was not a happy man. So much for no surprises. He opened the door and quickly slipped inside the darkened room. Ms. Sinclair was a surprise he had not expected. Young and blond, with long legs, she was a definite improvement over Robert Sutton. And also more observant, he decided, recalling her close scrutiny of everything around her. He briefly wondered what had happened to the other photographer. Probably dead in an alley somewhere. Their Intel team was one of the best. They had scrutinized every aspect of Robert Sutton’s life assuring Seth that the photographer would not be a problem. And that he would be expendable if needed. The intended photographer exited Seth’s mind almost as soon as he had entered. He was of no concern to him now. But Ms. Sinclair, ah now, she was a different matter altogether. Who the hell was she and why was she here?

  The possibilities raced through his head with rapid speed. Her story was feasible. She could really be a replacement for the original photographer. On the other hand, it could all be the act of a well-trained professional. But if that were the case, what was her purpose? The assignment was almost over and everything was going accordingly. At this stage in the mission, it was a little late to send in any reinforcements and besides, Charlie would never send someone else in without informing him first. But then, who was he kidding? Secrecy, deception, and lies were the foundation of the Perfect Order. Even those on the inside were subject to its scrutiny. There was always the possibility that she had been sent from his own organization to check up on him.

  He had been in this game a long time and was starting to grow weary of it, not even bothering to pretend otherwise. The constant lies and deceptions, the blurred lines between good and evil. Recently, he had begun to question which side he was on. And once the questions set in, loyalty began to wane. In his line of work, there could be no questions, only obedience. Everyone had a limit to what they could do before they either quit or went over the edge completely. He was not one to give up but he had no desire to become completely lost either. Though, at times, he had the feeling that he was dangerously close.

  He harbored no illusions that he was entirely on his own on this mission. Operatives worked every angle of this assignment so no base was left uncovered. Other than himself, Ryan Brennen was the closest to the operation. The young British operative posing as Vance’s chauffeur had been brought in only recently, replacing the previous driver. In fact, over the last eleven months, many of Vance’s employees had been effectively persuaded to look for work elsewhere leaving him unknowingly surrounded by several members of The Perfect Order. Some left by persuasive suggestions, others by force. Force was not his preferred method of action but he did whatever was needed to ensure that he had complete control over the situation. He had no problems carrying out an order and was ruthless enough to follow whatever steps necessary to accomplish his mission.

  Their technical magician was hidden but never far away. Intel extraordinaire Ricki Havens was an absolute genius when it came to computers. There was no system she couldn’t hack into, no file she couldn’t implant. Not to mention, she could get the most intimate informat
ion on anyone within the blink of an eye. Phoenix Jordon was the last of their little party. A dangerous mix of determination and mystique, she was absolutely lethal. It didn’t hurt that she was also hot as hell. Posing as Vance’s “personal” masseuse, she had no equal.

  Ms. Sinclair was a risk. Not only to him and the other operatives but to the entire mission. He had to figure out what she was doing here and take care of the situation quickly. Decisively, he opened the encrypted cell phone, typed out a short message, expecting to have an answer within the hour. Until then, he was working in the dark, a circumstance he was not totally comfortable with. Time was running out and there was too much at stake to sit around and play guessing games.

  Chapter 3

  Three hours and several hundred pictures later, Madison was ready to call it a night. She had pictures of everyone from brokers and investors to Vance’s friends and coworkers. Anyone that might have any relevance, significant or otherwise, to him what so ever. The only person she had not managed to get a picture of was Vance’s assistant. Which, in her opinion, was just as well. Seth Reynolds had a very unsettling presence about him that made her supremely nervous. Perhaps it was the intense way he stared at her whenever he was in the room. Or perhaps it was the way he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. One minute he was there, the next he wasn’t. Almost as if he melted into the walls of the mansion, lurking around in hallways like a ghost, and observing everyone with those unusually pale eyes of his.

  All things aside, Robert had been right. The party was amazing and unlike anything she had ever been to before. Soft, beautiful music played as well dressed partygoers dined on rich, delicious food. Laughter and small talk swirled through the crowds as she shot picture after picture. It seemed that the party was not even close to winding down but it had been a long night and the only thing she wanted to do was go home, kick off the high heels, and relax with a soothing glass of wine and Milo purring on her stomach. But first things first. She had to finish with the formalities of the evening.

  Scanning the room for any sign of Vance, she was unable to find the enigmatic millionaire among the crowd. She did, however, spot his business partner in the far corner of the room talking with his fiancée. Having met him earlier in the evening, she felt decidedly more comfortable approaching him than anyone else here.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Harrison,” Madison said, stepping up to him. “I hate to bother you but I’m Madison, the photographer?”

  Tall with broad shoulders, sandy-brown hair, and gentle, brown eyes, Jonathan Harrison had struck her as being a very polite and friendly man. Highly intelligent and easygoing, it was no stretch to see what Vance saw in him as a partner. His fiancée, on the other hand, portrayed the perfect image of a very jealous, very spoiled young woman. Tall and slender with raven hair and luminous skin, she rivaled Stacy’s beauty. The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Chelsea’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously and she stepped nearer to Jonathan, possessively intertwining her arm through his.

  Ignoring Chelsea’s behavior, Jonathan’s smile was quick and warm. “Of course, how are you Madison? Are you having a good time?”

  Returning his smile with one of her own, she nodded. “Well, I am here to work but yes, the party is wonderful. I was wondering if you had seen Vance. I think I have enough pictures for the night and I was hoping to find him before I leave.”

  Craning his head around, Jonathan searched the crowd. “He was here a few minutes ago but that is just like Vance to disappear without warning,” he muttered, a hint of disapproval in his voice. “I can help you look for him if you like.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Chelsea inserted herself between Madison and Jonathan, locking eyes with him.

  “Darling,” Chelsea purred, “I’m sure that Ms. Sinclair can find Vance on her own. It’s not like she hasn’t been in places like this before, am I right?” Chelsea turned to Madison with a small, contemptuous smile.

  Anger reared up but rather than give in to that side of herself, she simply returned the haughty smile with one of her own. “Yes, of course and I don’t want to interrupt your evening. It was nice meeting both of you,” Madison said stiffly. Oh, how she hated people like that. Just because they were rich and beautiful didn’t give them the right to treat others like they were nothing. Jonathan was certainly going to have his hands full with that one.

  Leaving the dining room, she was left to find Vance on her own but the mansion seemed to have doubled in size during the party. There were so many more rooms and hallways than she remembered. Within a few minutes, she found herself completely turned around and lost. Well that’s just great. With a huff, she blew a stray hair from her face and looked down the hallway. Dead end. Shaking her head and trying to decide which way to go now, she heard voices behind one of the closed doors. Drawing closer, she recognized Vance’s voice.

  Pausing a moment, she debated about interrupting him. As much as she hated to, she could wait around for a while. But it was nearing one a.m. and her feet were killing her. If she never saw a pair of three-inch heels again, it would be too soon. Robert thought these types of shoes were sexy but he should try wearing them sometime. He could see how sexy they were after walking in them for several hours. The image of Robert striding around in her heels nearly made her laugh in spite of her aching feet.

  A slight interruption was probably nothing new to Vance so she started forward, intending to rap on the closed door. She raised her fist to knock when another sound from behind the door stopped her.

  “You can’t tell me what to do, Vance. I don’t belong to you,” the feminine voice said, husky and ragged with emotion.

  Madison stood, indecisive. Clearly there was an argument going on and now was not the time to interrupt. The voices continued to grow louder and more heated the longer she stood there.

  “I beg to differ, my dear,” Vance’s steady, controlled voice said. “You are bought and paid for. I own you.”

  “You’re fucking crazy,” the unknown woman retorted, her voice laced with anger.

  A sharp crack resounded from the room and Madison gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Quiet sobbing echoed out into the hallway where she stood. Thanks to movies and television, she knew the sound of a hand striking someone’s face when she heard it.

  “Don’t you ever call me crazy.” The flat, disembodied voice drifted through the door, chilling her to the bone. There was absolutely no emotion in that voice. It sounded almost robotic, inhuman.

  Forget it, I can wait. Madison spun around. And collided with a very solid body, effectively halting her quick retreat. Looking up in surprise, she found herself staring into the colorless eyes of Seth Reynolds. In the narrow hallway, he seemed to fill up the entire space, leaving her no room to move, no room to breathe.

  “Ms. Sinclair. This part of the house is closed off to guests,” he said, his voice subdued and distant.

  Her reaction to him was instant. There was no reason for her to lie but she felt it bubbling up and it left her lips before she even had time to think.

  “I’m sorry, I was looking for the bathroom and I . . .”

  “Got lost?” His voice turned icy as he finished her sentence for her. Mocking her. His lips twitched slightly at her blatant lie, drawing her attention to his mouth. Uncomfortably, she noticed the fullness of his lips, not quite as ordinary as they had first appeared.

  Raising an eyebrow slightly, he cut a look at the closed door where sobbing could still be heard, then returned his gaze back to her.

  In a cool, sardonic way that she was beginning to believe was his trademark, he informed her, “You’ve gone the wrong way.”

  God, this guy was such an ass. Steeling herself against the biting retort on the tip of her tongue, she smiled tightly, her teeth pressing against the back of her lips.

  “Yes, thank you for your astute observation,
Mr. Reynolds. Vance’s home is bigger than I had realized. I didn’t want to bother anyone so I tried to find it myself.”

  “Would you like me to show you the right way?”

  His manner was so polite that it bordered on rudeness and it took everything she had not to bite his head off. Desperate to be away from the woman’s sobbing and Seth himself, Madison quickly replied through clenched teeth, “If you could just point me in the right direction, I’m sure that I can find it.”

  “Of course. Take this hallway back the way you came. A left, two rights, and another left.”

  Seth remained unmoving, forcing her to go around him. Edging past, she tried not to touch him but she breathed in his scent, a stirring mix of something rich, dark, and masculine, instantly bringing her senses to full attention. The heat radiating from his skin pressed upon hers and she caught her breath as her breasts brushed his arm, the friction sending a momentary tingle throughout her body. Trying to breathe normally, she resisted the urge to look up at him for fear he would see her reaction to the barest of touches. She walked away, swearing she could feel those pale eyes penetrating her back and a random, troublesome thought entered her mind. So, he wasn’t a ghost, after all.

  Finding the bathroom was easy enough. As soon as she got safely inside its walls, she let out a pent up breath. With dismay, she saw her hands were trembling. How had she let him get to her so badly? Embarrassed by her reaction, she clenched her hands into fists to stop the treacherous shaking, placing them to her sides. After a moment, she relaxed them, pleased to see that there was no sign of the treacherous movement.

  From behind her, the door whispered open and she found herself face to face with Stacy. She no longer was the goddess she appeared to be earlier in the library. It would have been impossible not to see the blood seeping through the soft, white linen she held against her bottom lip. Her perfect hair was now a tumbled mess and her blue eyes were red from crying. The mascara ran down her pale face in winding black streaks. There was no longer any doubt who had been behind that door with Vance.