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Jordan was going to be pissed, he thought as he felt determination well inside him. He wasn’t letting her go a second time. And she wouldn’t sit back and let him fight those battles on his own, she would be at his side. She would be a part of the unit, one way or the other, or John would have to break a promise that could very well put both their lives in danger.
“And if you could have the man you loved?” he asked her then. “Would you want children?”
He felt her smile against his shoulder and had a feeling it wasn’t a gentle smile. He could almost sense what lay behind it.
“That option isn’t open to me,” she said softly. “Until it is, that’s not a question I can answer.”
He tucked his head against hers and reined in the sigh that would have slipped from him. This mission was getting to him, the
entire situation was fucking getting to him. He needed to give her reassurance, he needed to promise her that he was never going to leave her life again, but until he made the necessary arrangements, he couldn’t promise her anything. He didn’t have the promises to give her.
“Excuse me. I’d like to claim this dance.” They drew to a stop as John stared back at Wagner Grace.
Bailey turned and stared at the other man. John could feel the tension building in her body, working through her system.
“Just for a moment,” he requested as he stared at Bailey. “I promise I won’t keep you long.”
The man looked haunted, but he also looked spoiled and put out, John thought. He admitted, though, that the off-spring of the four icons who were here this weekend hadn’t impressed him much. They were spoiled little children parading as adults. They were smart as hell, but their intelligence was invariably put to use in less-than-intelligent areas. Wagner for instance, according to the unit’s report, had spent most of his life trying to get out of work rather than showing any interest in the various business interests his father had accumulated.
“Of course.” Polite society would have frowned on him for refusing, he guessed. Besides, this was one for Bailey to handle.
Moving from the dance floor, he bit back a grimace and joined the four men he was certain should be committed for the safety of the public at large. Not to mention their own safety.
“That boy has some growing up to do,” Samuel commented as John turned and directed his attention back to the ballroom.
“They all do.” Stephen sighed. “We didn’t raise our kids right, Sam. That’s our problem.”
“Ben raised his right,” Ford interjected. John turned to stare back at the other man. Ford’s eyes met John’s and in them, John glimpsed a bit of calculation mixed with the respect. “Ben raised his girl right,” he stated again. “He was smarter than the rest of us.”
With that he turned and moved from the gathering. Watching, John saw him join Raymond, speak for a moment, then leave the ballroom.
John turned around again to watch Bailey, his gaze narrowed on her cool expression and the stiffness of her body. Wagner looked sincere, intent, convincing as he talked quickly.
BAILEY PLACED ONE HAND in Wagner’s, her other hand on his shoulder, and stared up at him curiously as he led her around the ballroom floor.
She could feel the tension radiating from Wagner. A watchful cold tightness to his body that she had never associated with him before. She hadn’t seen him much during the house party. He and several of his friends, such as Grant Waterstone, had found other pursuits to entertain them.
“I’m worried about you, Bailey,” he finally stated as he stared down at her in concern. “One of Raymond’s security personnel mentioned that you were attacked the other day by another guest. One of the more unsavory individuals that Raymond likes to invite.”
Bailey stared back at him in surprise. She had assumed Raymond would cover up the event.
“It was nothing to worry about,” she waved the event off. “A minor inconvenience.”
“I see.” He frowned back at her. “As I understand it, you were seconds from having your throat slit.”
“And as you can see, I’m doing fine,” she assured him. “Really, Wagner, don’t worry.”
“I do worry,” he stated. “As does Grant. Vincent isn’t a safe bet for you, dear. He’ll only add to the danger of your own past.”
Grant Waterstone was a bastard and everyone knew it. Even worse, he was a stupid bastard. He ran with the wrong crowd, did too many drugs, and paid too high a price for them.
She ignored his jab at John, instead keeping her expression carefully composed and simply letting him rail.
“Father doesn’t even care what I uncovered investigating that bastard Vincent.” He glared down at her suddenly. “Do you know he’s suspected of brokering deals with terrorists? For God’s sake, Bailey. You’re with the CIA.”
“I was fired,” she pointed out with a lack of heat. “I’m a free agent now, Wagner.”
“You were with the CIA,” he amended. “Where’s your patriotism?”
