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“There have been some questions,” he finally admitted. “He was fingerprinted, DNA’d. We managed to get our own results into each test easily enough, but we thought a verification by you would go farther.”
She nodded at that. “The people you’re dealing with aren’t the most trustworthy. And arranging a meeting with Warbucks isn’t going to be as easy as you think. I’ve been working for more than a year to prove my discontent with the agency and my country in general. He’s only now beginning to test me.”
Returning amid a scandal had done some damage to her social life, but not to the certainty that she would turn against the CIA if given the
chance. John knew for a fact that rumors were already circulating that Bailey Serborne was now a disenchanted agent and possibly available to the highest bidder.
It was information that the CIA couldn’t afford to act on, though, simply because of the power that backed her. They hadn’t even placed a watch on her, which was a testament to the financial and political clout that existed within the world she had been born into.
So how did a society princess, an heiress unlike any other he’d heard of, end up risking her life and fortune in a career that could end any day with her death?
What sense of honor, injustice, or vengeance had led her here?
There were so many secrets, so much of her that he was only now realizing that he didn’t know or understand. Parts of her that she hid, that she refused to share with anyone, man or woman. An intimacy she was determined to keep to herself.
“What proof do you have that Warbucks was involved in the death of your friend or your parents?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “I don’t have time to sit and tell you my life story.” She used a small flip of her hand to indicate the dress she was wearing. “We’re going to be fashionably late as it is. Get in your best evening suit and we’ll head out.”
“To where?” he asked curiously. She was obviously attempting to assert herself and her dominance in this. For the moment, he was allowing it.
“Samuel Waterstone’s get-together. He and his wife are celebrating their anniversary tonight. Forty-five years of marital bliss.”
There was a regret disguised in the bitterness of her voice that made something in his chest ache. Made him regret choices himself. Could he and Bailey have been celebrating an anniversary this year? he wondered. If he hadn’t “died.” If Trent Daylen hadn’t managed to get on the wrong side of Warbucks in Australia?
“The families we’re watching will be in attendance at this party?” he asked her.
“Every one of them plus several dozen more. Add to that list a few box-office stars, a couple of very dull television personalities and even some of Aspen’s finest political figures and you have a gallery of the rich and boring.”
She had little respect for the world she had been born within. But John had realized in Australia that Bailey never simply gave her respect or trust. Male or female, people had to work to prove themselves to her.
As Trent Daylen, he’d done that somehow. Through the months that they had worked together, he’d found some way to earn that respect and trust. A respect and trust that John Vincent wasn’t earning quite so easily.
“I’ll make certain I don my finest threads, then.” He quirked a smile in her direction and yet still received that strangely somber look in return.
He wondered if she knew what that look did to him. If she knew that he wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world when she looked so sad.
“That would definitely be a good idea.” She nodded. “Tomorrow you’ll come out to the cabin. I’ll have my father’s tailor there fit you with some new suits. You’ve done very well as a successful broker, but now you need to show your intent to rise higher in the world. You’ll have one of a very few of the richest heiresses in the world that you’re courting. You need to show your intent as well as your seriousness in the matter.”
His brow arched. “Should I be looking for engagement rings then?”
She tilted her head and stared back at him coolly. “Call Cartier’s in England, make an appointment with the manager to see his finest diamonds in, say, six weeks’ time. That will prove your intent as well as give you ample opportunity to complete your job here before you have to actually buy the diamond.”
He snorted at that. “I have my own diamond sources, my dear, I think I can take care of this on my own.”
She shrugged. “However you wish to deal it, as long as word leaks out. Now, we’d better be leaving soon or we’ll be more than fashionably late and end up insulting our host and hostess. That’s something we really don’t want to do at this point.”
Insulting the Waterstones wasn’t one of the things that was high on his own list of problems to avoid, but he would take her word for it.
“And once we arrive?” He moved from the bar, stepping over to her slowly, letting her feel the heat of his body as it mixed with hers. “Are we lovers, Bailey, or still tiptoeing around each other like a couple of teenagers?”
She inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring with a hint of nervous excitement as a glitter of hunger lit her eyes. She wanted it just as damned bad as he did. The need that had erupted between them five years ago hadn’t abated. If anything, it had only grown hotter.
As she stood still and silent, he let his hand caress her hip, feeling the heated flesh beneath the silk of her gown. Then looping his arm around her waist, he jerked her to his chest.
Soft, silken hands flattened against the bare muscle as her gaze widened and flew to his.
“This isn’t necessary,” she retorted breathlessly.
