by Leah Brooke
Her vision blurred when tears filled her eyes, her stomach fluttering at the surge of love for him.
Gathering her closer, he chuckled and bent to kiss her ear. “Darling, you’re touched by the most incredible things. Not even a ruby and diamond necklace got this reaction. I haven’t seen you cry like this since we realized that I could shield you from all those voices.” He hugged her again. “You’re absolutely adorable.” Straightening, he let his gaze lower to her breasts. “Adorable and sexy—a deadly combination. You’d eat DuBois alive before he even realized it.”
Running her fingers over his lapel, she snuggled closer, their bodies moving as if they’d been dancing together for years. Intrigued by his mysterious smile, she looked around to see what he found so amusing. Seeing nothing, she realized that he must have been communicating with Ian. “You’re doing a lot of smiling for no reason, or is someone giving you a reason?”
She found it ironic that she could read the mind of everyone around her, but the mental voices of the two most important people in her life remained silent—unless they wanted her to hear them.
The telepathy between them astounded her. It was so strong that they could even feel what the other felt.
Alastair grinned, leaning close and touching his lips to her ear. “Apparently, it’s hard to concentrate on breaking into a place and a safe with an erection. He also had a few choice words about DuBois, who, by the way, is making his way over here, probably to do his best to take you away from me.”
“You don’t sound too worried.”
Alastair smiled. “You would never be taken in by a man like him.” A tawny brow went up. “Do you really think I would allow anyone to take you from me?”
“You’re too cocky.”
His slow smile sent a rush of heat through her, her body still humming from their recent lovemaking. “Thank you, darling. You seem to have adjusted to it quite nicely.”
Laughter bubbled out before she could prevent it, and gulping more back, she avoided looking at his face, staring at his shirtfront instead. “Jerk. You’re not supposed to make me laugh. We’re supposed to look like we’re fighting, aren’t we?”
Alastair’s features turned to stone, his eyes taking on a hard glint, signs that Jean Paul DuBois was close. “I don’t care. You’re mine, and I sure as hell don’t want you talking to other men. When we get home, I’m burning that dress.”
A hand touched her shoulder, sending a shiver of revulsion through her. “Excuse me. May I cut in?”
Turning her in his arms, Alastair presented DuBois with his back. “No. Get lost.”
DuBois moved to her side and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Afraid that one dance with me will make her forget all about you?” Turning to her, he looked her up and down, making her skin crawl, but at least she knew she had his attention.
Alastair’s confident smile flashed. “She’ll never forget me.”
Serena smiled inwardly. Truer words had never been spoken.
Pulling out of Alastair’s arms, she lifted her chin, adopting the cool disinterest she’d used to keep others away her entire life. “I’m going to the ladies room, or do you have a problem with that as well?”
With a glare at both of them, she turned and walked away, enjoying herself immensely.
* * * *
Jean Paul DuBois watched the exquisite creature walk away, turning to see that Wyn followed her with hungry eyes until she disappeared from sight. “She’s special to you, isn’t she? Interesting. I’ve seen you with dozens of women before, and none seemed to hold your attention.”
Realizing that he had the perfect opportunity to even the score with the man who’d made him look like a fool for years, Jean Paul started making his plans.
Not only would he steal the stunning beauty away from Wyn, he’d break into that fortress his rival called home and take the necklace that Wyn had given her.
Wyn had probably bought it to show off, but he’d end up looking like a fool in Serena’s beautiful eyes when it was taken right out from under his nose—the same plan he had for Serena.
Wyn smiled in that arrogant way Jean Paul despised so much, a smile Jean Paul had spent hours practicing in the mirror but could never get right. “Which is why it was so easy for you to swoop in and seduce them. If I’d wanted them, DuBois, you wouldn’t have taken them from me. Serena’s special. I want her. You’ll never take her away. Stay away from her.”
“Or…” Jean Paul wanted her and meant to have her. He wanted what Wyn valued so much, including the necklace Serena wore.
He’d steal her a better one.
Wyn glanced at him, a dismissive look that made Jean Paul’s blood boil. “Or you’ll just end up looking like a fool. As usual.”
* * * *
Aware of Alastair’s sharp attention, Serena tried to put some distance between her and Jean Paul, finding it difficult to concentrate on dancing with him while trying to read his thoughts, especially when dancing with him took a lot more effort than dancing with Alastair.
Delighted that her plan had worked and Jean Paul had cornered her for a dance as soon as she’d reappeared, she gave him a polite smile while trying to mentally communicate with Alastair. “I understand that you and Wyn have known each other a long time.”
You’re blocking too much.
You’re dancing too close.
DuBois sneered. “Years. Although we’ve never been friends, we seem to run in the same circles.”
He really hates you. He’s jealous.
I know. Use that.
Serena ran her fingertips over DuBois’s shoulder. “Hmm. You must be very rich. Wyn seems to appreciate the finer things in life, but I think your home is even larger than his.”
Jean Paul gave her a smile that didn’t appear as practiced. “And mine is professionally decorated.”
Serena appeared to look impressed. “That’s obvious.” Although it was beautiful, it had no personality whatsoever.
When Jean Paul turned her, she spared a glance at Alastair, who stood by the bar, watching them. You’re still blocking too much!
And you’re still dancing too close.
Jean Paul’s hands moved over her back, his eyes dark with sexual intent. “Wyn always has to have the best. I’ll have to show you around my house. I’m sure that it drives him crazy that I have the bigger house and the only reason he came here tonight was to see it.”
This guy’s a moron.
Yeah. Ian wants to punch him in his face.
Serena hid a smile at that. I want to be there when he does.
Jean Paul ran his fingertips down her arm in the way Alastair often did, but instead of sending shivers of delight through her, DuBois’s touch made her shiver in revulsion.
Apparently, he couldn’t tell the difference.
Smiling, he slid his fingertips just inside the edge of her dress, caressing her waist. “I have to say that he’s really outdone himself with you. He collects women. I, on the other hand, adore women and have spent most of my life looking for a woman like you.”
I’m going to break every one of his damned fingers.
Amused at Alastair’s jealousy, she flicked him another glance before frowning up at DuBois. “Like me? You don’t even know me.”
I’m going to cut off his cock and feed it to him.
Serena nearly choked at that but managed to keep a straight face when DuBois attempted to pull her closer, stumbling again when he moved in an apparent effort to show off and ended up kicking her ankle.
He didn’t appear to notice her sharp gasp or that she’d stumbled.
He really didn’t seem to notice anything except his reflection in the mirror behind her, and Alastair.
Apparently unaware of what he’d done, he took her hand in his and pressed it against his chest, a chest that didn’t feel nearly as solid as Alastair’s. “I know that you’re beautiful, smart, and talented. I know that you move like a dream in my arms, and you don’t giggle like a sch
oolgirl for attention. You carry yourself like royalty, and you have the most beautiful, captivating eyes I’ve ever seen. I could get lost in them.”
Serena bit back the urge to tell him that he should just get lost, smiling instead and trying to ignore Alastair’s voice in her head. “Thank you.”
Did I sound so corny when I said that to you?
Of course not, darling.
I love when you call me darling, but I’d rather hear it from your lips.
Later. I can’t hear him. Back off.
Grateful that Ian and Alastair could somehow put up a barrier that shielded her from the thoughts of others, she sometimes resented the fact that they had the ability to do it so completely, and in a way she couldn’t control.
Fighting to lift the barrier enough to read DuBois’s mind proved exhausting. Feeling as if she was beating her head against a wall, she redoubled her efforts, frustrated that Alastair could block so much with such apparent ease.
His ability to do so alarmed her.
His jealousy, the only reason he had for doing it, had her searching his features.
I love you, you know.
His smile warmed her. I know. I love you, too, darling.
Jean Paul danced her closer toward the edge of the dance floor, away from Alastair, who merely moved to lean against a column at the edge of the dance floor to keep them in view. “Wyn seems very possessive of you.”
“Does he?”
Serena swallowed heavily at the claustrophobic sensation of being boxed in, struggling to breathe. Talking to you in my head distracts me, and you’re still blocking too damned much.
Okay. I’ll ease up. I don’t like the way he’s looking at you. What’s he thinking?
Serena mentally leapt at the opening he allowed, promising herself a long talk with him later.
About how much he’s looking forward to your reaction when you find out he’s stolen my necklace and taken me to bed. Arrogant asshole.
Agreed.
DuBois danced her into a corner but only because she’d been distracted. Lowering his voice to a more intimate level, he leaned closer, his heavy cologne making it harder to breathe. “Yes, he does. He collects women, Serena. Don’t let him make you one of his groupies.”
“Groupies?”
Groupies?
Jolting at Ian’s deep bark of outrage in her head, and fighting what she suspected to be a panic attack caused by the closed-in feeling, Serena missed her step, stumbling just enough to unbalance Jean Paul, who stepped solidly on her toes.
With a yelp, she stumbled back, automatically reaching out a hand to the wall to keep from falling and encountering solid, tuxedo-clad muscle instead.
Alastair caught her and, lifting her high against his chest, glared at DuBois as he cuddled her close. “Darling, are you okay?”
Nodding, she forced a smile through the pain, loving the secure feeling of being in Alastair’s arms. “Yes. I just need to sit down for a minute.”
She also needed to talk to him away from DuBois.
DuBois’s eyes lifted to Alastair’s, gleaming with hatred. “I could have taken care of her, Wyn.”
Alastair turned away dismissing him with a snarl. “So I see. Christ, DuBois, you’re a menace.”
DuBois followed, his lips thinned, his eyes gleaming with hatred. “You’re a bastard.” He rushed to keep up with Alastair’s long strides, his hurried steps making him appear decidedly undignified. Snapping his fingers at a passing waiter, he barked out an order to bring him some ice wrapped in a napkin and reached out to touch Serena’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Serena. Let me take you upstairs so you can lie down.”
Alastair snorted. “Not a chance. You’d probably drop her.” Even though he was playing a part, the concern in his eyes was very real. “Darling, are you all right?”
Serena smiled to reassure him, frustrated that she hadn’t gotten the information she needed. Her foot throbbed, the pain making it difficult to think. Pressing her face against Alastair’s neck, she whispered into his ear. “You’re blocking too much. You’re smothering me. You’ve never done that before. When he hurt my foot, it was like you’d put a blanket over my face.”
“Christ, I’m sorry, baby. So sorry. I didn’t realize…You okay now?” Alastair reached the doors near the exit and, at her nod, lowered himself into one of the padded bench seats there, cradling her on his lap. “You’re an inept clod, DuBois.” His big hands looked even larger as he deftly worked the tiny buckle free and eased her shoe off.
DuBois smiled through gritted teeth as he yanked the ice-filled napkin from the waiter’s hand and placed it on her toes, jerking it back when Serena hissed at the pain. “And you’re an asshole. Money doesn’t buy class, Wyn.”
With a cold smile, Alastair pulled Serena closer and took the napkin from DuBois’s hands. “On that we agree.” He turned to Serena, his eyes sharp. Nodding once, he ran his hand up and down her back in support. Okay, we’ll do it your way.
It was if a shutter had been thrown open, but instead of light pouring in, she found herself surrounded by the thoughts of the people around them.
Jean Paul’s proximity and anger made it possible to zero in on his thoughts, and after only a second or two, she had the information she wanted.
And more. More than she wanted. More than she could handle.
Used to Ian and Alastair shielding her, she wasn’t prepared for the tidal wave of thoughts and emotions from everyone around her. She froze, her mind going numb.
The wave beat at her, the onslaught drowning her.
Her head started to pound, the pain becoming more unbearable with every beat of her heart. The voices of the other partygoers hammered at her from all sides, the rush of them making her dizzy and, with the pain, sick to her stomach. Shock made her stiffen, and she gripped Alastair, burying her face against his throat again. “Please.”
Suddenly, everything quieted until she heard only the music and conversation again—and Alastair’s angry curse.
“Hell, baby. I’m sorry. We’re going to have to practice some more. Come on, Serena. Let’s get you home.”
* * * *
Driving through the night, Alastair glanced at Serena again, not fooled by her reassuring smile. Furious at himself for letting his guard down so completely, he tightened his hands on the wheel and drove as fast as he could toward his home. “That smile isn’t fooling me, Serena. I can see you’re in pain. I feel it, too, remember? I still don’t know why, but you know damned well that I can feel it. Don’t try to hide it from me.”
Knowing that what he felt was only a small glimmer of what she would be feeling, he reached behind his seat and produced a bottle of water and handed it to her, along with a tin of aspirin from his inside jacket pocket. “Take a couple of aspirin for that headache. We’ll be home soon.”
What the hell happened? Christ, her head must be killing her.
She needed the shield down, Ian. Don’t bitch at me now. I fucked up royally tonight. I’ve got to focus on her.
Serena swallowed the aspirin and eased her head back against the headrest. “I’m fine. I got it all. He’s getting information from a woman named Rita Savon. Classified information. He’s selling it to someone in the Russian mafia. He and Rita are having an affair, and she’s also sleeping with Tom Garner. That’s where she’s getting the information he’s selling.”
Stunned at the can of worms Serena had just opened, Alastair whipped his head around. “Tom Garner, the assistant director of the CIA?”
Serena shrugged, rubbing her forehead, a sign that her headache was even worse than he’d suspected. “That sounds right. Tom’s not getting any of the money, though. He’s telling Rita things to impress her.” Smiling, she turned her head gingerly and touched Alastair’s arm. “Wait until you hear this. Rita’s a dominatrix, and Tom Garner’s addicted to being her boy toy.”
“Holy shit.” Alastair knew he’d have to get the information to Jonathan as soon as possible. “So he’s
giving her the information to keep her tied to him.”
Serena nodded, grimacing as she eased her head back against the headrest again. “Yes. He’s meeting with her tomorrow night to get the files she got and the tapes. She tapes her sessions with Garner. She’s trying to impress Jean Paul by getting information from Tom when he’s in the throes of passion and will do anything for her. She also hopes the tapes arouse Jean Paul. Jean Paul’s intrigued, but after seeing what she does to Garner, he doesn’t trust her and has no intention of allowing her to get him into a vulnerable position.”
Alastair grimaced. “Well, DuBois might be smarter than I thought.”
She smiled when Alastair took her hand in his. “He plans to use the tapes to blackmail Tom Garner in the future, but in the meantime, he uses them to get even more information to add to his files.” Frowning, she turned her head to face him. “Jean Paul is broke. He’s spent all of the money he inherited on his lavish lifestyle. Vacations. Expensive wines and showing off. He always has to be where the action is because he wants to be the center of attention. He steals the jewelry because he has a buyer for it that’s very discreet and pays him well but also because he gets a thrill out of it.”
Alastair nodded. “Jonathan said that DuBois started by stealing jewelry because he needed the money. Somewhere along the line, he got into selling information that threatens national security. He’s got to be stopped.”
Taking her hand from his, she lifted her injured foot, resting it on her thigh, hoping that elevating it would relieve the throbbing. “He hates you. He’s very jealous of how things seem to come easy to you. Oh, and by the way, he’s going to try to steal my necklace just to make you look like a fool. Not for the money, but to make you look stupid. He really hates you.”
“Does he?” Alastair smiled at that, his smile falling when he saw that Serena’s big toe had swelled. “Put the ice back on your foot.”