by Misty Evans
No, getting in touch with his emotions wasn’t the answer. He was in touch with them. Too in touch with them. If he didn’t pull back from the brink, everything he was working so hard to make happen would go down in a ball of fire.
To Monroe, he said, “Sydney is a tool to bring The Lion down. Nothing more, nothing less. I have her back, just like I had yours, and I won’t let anything happen to her, but I also won’t jeopardize her future or this mission by getting emotionally involved.” I especially will not screw her life up because of a bunch of useless emotions.
“Grey?” Sydney whispered in his ear. Urgent. Scared he’d left her?
He tapped his earbud and opened his end of their tenuous link. “You know what to do, Sydney. Go to work.”
Syd stepped away from the foyer where some lughead had the privilege of patting her down with his sleezeball hands that lingered a little too long in the chest area. Any other day, she’d have flattened the pervert.
You’re a whore, Sydney. Actually, that’s Cindy, her undercover name. These people thought Cindy was a whore and, in their evil minds, assumed they were allowed to treat the escorts this way. Their way of thinking only fueled her desire to watch them all go down.
She glanced back to Jennifer, the woman she’d met in the limo who would be her buddy tonight. Jennifer wore her long blonde hair in an elegant knot and her ivory silk dress fit her lean body to perfection. The woman appeared downright comfortable, smiling at the guards and even mildly flirting. Clearly she’d been doing this a while.
When Jennifer had completed the security check—a.k.a., groping session—she joined Sydney by the staircase of the exquisite Colonial Revival and gestured toward the room to their right. High ceilings, wood floors and original architectural features met Syd’s eyes everywhere. Stunning.
Jennifer held her hand out and the diamond bracelet adorning her wrist sparkled. “Let’s start in here. There are three large connecting rooms. Everyone mingles throughout. Toward the back is a huge library. Occasionally we’ll go in there if one of the men invites us. When they want to be alone with us, that’s where we go.”
“And what happens in there?”
Jennifer grabbed champagne from a passing waiter and lowered her voice. “That’s up to you. If they close the door, they want you naked. If the door stays open, they’re not ready.”
Jesus. So much for Ian telling her she wouldn’t have to have sex with the men. She’d deal with that later, but Ian might be in for a beatdown.
Syd swallowed. Where was Fed Boy when she needed him? Still, something told her she shouldn’t go near that library tonight. Fed Boy didn’t want this rushed.
“Got it. And if I’m not ready to be naked?”
Jennifer’s mouth quirked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Guess not.”
“Take a deep breath and talk to them. You look great and you’re the new kid. Trust me, they’ll come to you. Here we go. Exhibit A.”
Sydney glanced up and spotted a middle-aged man, tall with salt-and-pepper hair approaching.
“Senator Holden.” Jennifer beamed up at the senator. “How nice to see you. Allow me to introduce Cindy. Cindy, this is Senator Holden. He’s the chair for the Foreign Relations Committee.”
Time to work. Syd threw her shoulders back, took a silent breath and held her hand to the good senator. “A pleasure to meet you, Senator.”
“And you as well, Cindy. You ladies are lovely tonight. Cindy, I’m sure Jennifer has told you about the party, but please feel free to mingle with the guests. If you need assistance of any kind, be sure to find me.”
Gotta give the senator credit for keeping his gaze focused on their faces and not other parts of their anatomy. Maybe Fed Boy was right about this crew wanting to avoid scandals. She’d have to tread lightly.
“Thank you, Senator. I will do that.”
Jennifer led her into the second room. A ballroom, huge with crown molding, French doors and lots of rich old coots. Syd glanced around, searching for The Lion, but unless the photo Fed Boy had showed her was wildly outdated, the man hadn’t appeared yet. She’d wait.
Another group of three men signaled for them and Syd followed Jennifer’s lead. Two of the men were ancient, but the other could have been mid-twenties, with dark features and a cute round face. Middle-Eastern descent, Sydney guessed.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Jennifer said. “Allow me to introduce Cindy. Cindy, this is Congressman Daniel and one of his aides, John Parker. And this is Nabil Khourey.”
The Lion’s son. Now she was getting somewhere. Syd did her practiced meet and greet with the two coots and then shook hands with Nabil. His warm hand slid into hers and he gently pumped it, held on for one, two, three seconds and gave her a squeeze.
Sydney’s instincts encouraged a full tactical assault by giving his hand a squeeze back, but Fed Boy would stroke out.
She’d refrain.
For her partner’s sake.
“Go easy here, Syd,” Fed Boy said via the earpiece hidden under her hair. Now the man was a mind reader?
She eased her hand from Nabil’s grip but continued to smile.
“You seem to be without a drink,” Lion cub said. Syd caught the faint whiff of cigarette smoke on him. “Perhaps you’ll join me at the bar?”
Perhaps I might.
A click sounded in her ear. Fed Boy ready to yap at her again. “Syd, get the drink and go to the far window on the northwest side of the room. I’ll be able to see you there.”
“Of course,” she said to Lion cub.
At the bar, she ordered a club soda with lime. No alcohol. She watched the bartender fill the glass, making sure nothing funny—i.e. mind altering—landed in her drink. Not one person in this room could be trusted.
“Keep your glass with you at all times,” Fed Boy said in her ear.
How the hell does he do that?
Syd wandered to the middle of the room where a small crowd of men huddled, their hungry, feral gazes on her and a frigid chill wrapped around her.
What am I doing?
“Move to the window so I can see you.” Her partner again.
Somehow, just hearing his voice bolstered her suddenly waning confidence. She turned her back to the feral men and focused on Nabil. “Would you mind if we moved to the side of the room?”
He nodded. “Certainly. Where would you like to go?”
“Could we go by the window? I’m a bit claustrophobic.”
Asking permission, rather than telling him couldn’t hurt. Grey had said the men like submissive women.
“We could journey outside.” He tapped his breast pocket. “I could use a smoke.”
Think fast, Syd. “I’m afraid I have to stay in here where the action is. My boss will get upset if I leave and go outside.”
Nabil gave her a small smile. “Of course.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the window. The wrong window. Dammit. She’d have to deal with it.
“It’s okay,” Fed Boy said. “I can see you.”
Nabil leaned against the frame and held his drink in toast. “To meeting a lovely woman.”
Okay, charm pants, time to play. “Thank you. I love your name. What does it mean?”
“It means noble.”
Oh, if that wasn’t an invitation she couldn’t resist. She dragged her gaze over him. “And are you?”
He flinched.
Too aggressive, Syd. She’d have to back off. She grinned at him and waved the question away. “I’m sorry. My playful tongue gets me in trouble.”
He inched closer. “Not to worry. I rather enjoy an outspoken woman.”
He had no idea.
“Nabil, there you are.”
The gruff voice came from behind her and Syd angled back to see a handsome man with just a bit of softness in his cheeks, walking toward them. His thinning gray hair was combed back, and his suit, obviously tailor-made, fit his beefy body in a way that screamed power.
The Lion.
Her heart slammed, but she focused on the features of his face. The man had a presence. For sure. Some would even say a sexy presence.
“Hello, Baba,” Nabil said.
Baba? Must mean father in Arabic.
The Lion stopped in front of Syd and held out his arms. “Who is this lovely creature?”
“This is Cindy. Cindy, my father, Ahmed Khourey.”
“Bingo,” Fed Boy whispered in her ear. “Doing great, Syd.”
Anticipating The Lion’s next move, Syd held out her hand. Within seconds, her much smaller hand disappeared inside his. The warmth pressed in on her as he squeezed once, then a second time.
No mistaking his I-will-do-you message. No doubt about it; The Lion had roared.
Chapter Ten
Contact. Exactly what he’d been waiting for. “Play it cool, Syd. Eyes downcast, don’t ask him questions. Draw him in, one step at a time.”
Monroe huffed beside Grey. “Shut up and let her do her thing, G.”
Let her do her thing. If only ‘her thing’ wasn’t full-on assault. Grey ignored Monroe. Listened to The Lion make small talk. His deep voice and heavy accent made Grey’s skin crawl.
“The Beast has arrived.” Monroe shifted his riflescope to take in Cadillac One, the president’s official car, pulling up with his entourage of Secret Service vehicles and manpower. This was no ceremony so there was little pomp to the arrival, just a lot of agents busting their humps to escort the president inside. The VP was already inside. The Jordan delegation had yet to show. Typical, Grey thought. Whose-Dick’s-Bigger was a game played by international politicians as well as the homegrown variety.
Inside the mansion, small talk ceased as the president was ushered in and announced to the group. Through his earbud, Grey heard clapping.
As the clapping died off, Sydney made a tiny squeak and the male voice he hated spoke in his ear. “Until the delegation from Jordan arrives, we are free to entertain ourselves. Perhaps, Cindy, we could speak more privately in the library.”
What the fuck? Grey’s stomach dropped. The Lion had to be all over Sydney’s personal space if his voice was coming through that loud and clear over the room’s chatter. That sound she’d made, high pitched and full of shock, was so out of character, Grey’s hand tightened instinctively on the scope.
He touched her. He fucking put his hand on her.
And probably her ass from the sound of that squeak.
Adjusting the Burris, he tried to get a better look, but a large group of people moved and jostled for floor space when the president entered. He couldn’t see Sydney or Ahmed.
Dammit. His first instinct was to tell Sydney to get away, make an excuse, go to the ladies room, whatever. As he lowered the scope and started to bark out instructions, Monroe snapped his fingers and glared him down. Made a throat-cutting motion.
Kill the emotions. Don’t blow it.
Monroe was right. He didn’t dare say a word. If Ahmed was that close to Sydney, he just might be able to hear Grey’s voice.
No choice. He had to sit tight and let Sydney handle this. Alone.
Shutting down the emotions that made him want to drop-kick the Burris through the window, he drew a steadying breath and sent Sydney an equal amount of mental strength. He also tapped his communicator and shut down his end of the mic just in case.
Her voice was firm in his ear as she responded to The Lion’s request. “I’d love to talk to you in the library, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take a raincheck. My instructions are to stay in the main reception hall until Prince Muhana arrives.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m new, you see, and my handler told me Muhana should be my main focus tonight. He likes women with long brown hair and a sassy attitude. This being my first assignment—to make sure the prince has first dibs if he’s interested—I don’t want to blow it. You understand, of course?”
Grey could have kissed her. Maybe later he’d do just that. He sat back and cracked a smile, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Increasing her value by playing The Lion against another Middle Eastern diplomat? Pure brilliance.
Monroe shifted and grinned. “I think I’m in love.”
Me, too.
“Of course,” Ahmed said. “If nothing else, my dear, I understand the ebb and flow of political chess. I will see you again later.”
Through the scope, Grey watched The Lion move away, slapping backs as he went. Hard to do with the packed crowd and him topping out at five-nine, but he was built like a linebacker and his wide shoulders did a good job of inserting him into the fray.
A second later, Sydney slid into view at the window. She didn’t know where Grey was exactly and she scanned the outside area, now growing dark as the sun set off to the west. Landscape lights blinked to life around the house and down the drive, throwing long shadows on the mansion. “How’d I do?” she murmured softly.
Her voice shook slightly, but a measure of pure steel lay under the slight tremor. Grey tapped his earpiece, opening his mic. “Excellent. A-plus.”
In the window, she smiled and sipped her drink. “Just an aside, but have you looked into The Lion’s son?”
She was so beautiful standing there spotlighted in the window, that red dress reminding him of their previous night on her couch when she’d thrown out that leg bomb and made him stumble over his words. Had any woman ever left him speechless? Not that he could remember. “He’s clean, but I’ll keep an eye on him just for you.”
Another smile lifted her cheeks and she glanced over her shoulder. Her body stiffened slightly and Grey sat straighter, refocused the Burris. “What is it?”
She faced the window again, a look of amusement on her face. “The president just winked at me.” She started giggling. “My God, I think the President of the United States wants to do me.”
Grey took his eye from the scope and dropped his chin to his chest. God help him, he was never going to make it through this night.
Syd wandered through her front door, tossed her keys on the entry table and flipped on the light.
Then she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Fed Boy sat on one of the kitchen chairs he’d dragged into the corner between two windows.
“Jesus! Are you insane? What if I had someone with me?”
“I knew you didn’t. I saw you get into the limo with Jennifer and the others and I kept my earbud mic open so I could hear if there was any gossip among the women. I also checked when I heard the car pull up.”
“And that gives you the right to give me a heart attack? How the hell did you get in here?”
He snorted. “Please. For the record, you need better locks.”
“Ass.”
“Just saying.”
She slid out of the killer stilettos and swept them aside with one foot. “These shoes? The government should use them as torture implements.”
Grey abandoned the crappy kitchen chair and moved to the sofa. He patted the spot next to him. “Have a seat. Bring those babies over here and I’ll rub them.”
Fed Boy was working it. “Do they teach that at Quantico?”
As snarky as she wanted to be, a foot massage after the night she’d had would be heaven. She plopped next to him and swiveled so her feet landed on his lap. Wasting no time, he dug his knuckles into the bottom of her foot and pain shot up her calf. Holy hell, maybe they did teach this at Quantico. “Ow. Ooh. Ow. That hurts. I thought this would be a pleasant experience. Ow!”
“Relax. It gets better in a minute.”
“It’s gonna be a long minute.”
Grey laughed and something inside her sparked. “You’re very handsome when you laugh.”
His knuckles continued to work her over. His stare did the same as he trailed his gaze over her exposed skin up to the hem of her dress. It had inched its way up her thighs, giving him quite a show. She didn’t adjust it—why bother? They both knew what they were doing and the fact that he didn’t look away for a long, heated momen
t proved it.
“Tell me about The Lion.” He finally raised his attention to her face. “Great work tonight, by the way.”
Syd relaxed into the cushions because yes, indeed, the foot massage had gotten better. “Are you sure you’ve got the right guy? I mean, other than him getting a little handsy around my ass, which, frankly, could have been the guy standing behind me, he was a perfect gentleman all night.”
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s a predator.”
“The predator brought me club sodas all night. And no, I didn’t drink them. The poor plants are well carbonated. His son wasn’t around too much. I lost track of him after the president gave me the “do-me” look.” Syd laughed at herself. Why not? How many women could say they’d been ogled by the President of the United States?
Grey wrapped his hand around her foot and ran his thumb along the bottom. A girl could learn to love this.
“We need The Lion to get in touch with Ian about you. What do you think? Will he make contact?”
She lifted her head and met his stare. “I’d bet on it. He has a look about him. Sort of ferocious in a sexy way. I get why you call him The Lion.”
“He’s dangerous, Syd.”
“Maybe. But I have you. That makes us equal.”
The muscles in Grey’s jaw flexed. “You still need to be careful.”
Syd raised her hand and made puppet movements. “Nag. Nag.” When her cell phone rang she raised her arms. “Saved by the bell. Sit tight and let me grab this.” She scooped the phone off the coffee table. “It’s Ian.”
Grey sat forward, grabbed a notepad from his jacket pocket. “Answer it.”
“Yes, boss.” She pressed the speaker button. “Hi, Ian.”
“Good evening to you, my newest star.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve gotten three calls about you already. Apparently, the mysterious Cindy was a hit tonight.”
She shot Grey a look and he raised his eyebrows. “Really? I only met a few people.”
“That’s how this works, Syd. They like what they see and they call me.”