Page 31 of Velvet Vaughn

He let a slow breath out through his nose. “I haven’t introduced you to a single person at my firm.”

“I’m aware.”

“You realize the first one who sees you on my arm is going to send out a group text within ninety seconds.”

“Then we’ll give them something useful to talk about.” She tilted her head. “Are you comfortable being a couple for an evening, De Luca, or do you want a different cover?”

His lips did the crooked tug she’d been trying not to notice. “I say we couple it.”

“Good. The cover holds for the room and the cameras. Inside our own heads we are a principal and his protection, and one of us is wearing a sidearm under her dress.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“You should see what the holster does to a chiffon line.”

The sound that escaped him was tired and a little stunned, but it was a laugh, and she was choosing to keep counting them tonight.

He turned his fork over and went back to his eggs. “What should I ask Devonte?”

“The short version is: Has anything strange happened in the last six months? Is there anyone new in the family’s orbit? Have there been phone calls, packages, letters, conversations, or coincidences that didn’t feel right? He’s going to want to give you a clean answer. Don’t let him.”

“Devonte won’t lie to me.”

“He loves you. People lie to people they love all the time, especially when they’re scared, or when somebody’s told them not to.”

He absorbed that and then nodded once.

“Read his face. You know him. I don’t.”

“Copy that.”

She picked her fork back up and took another bite. The toast was cooling, but the eggs were warm, and the part of her brain that ran threat scenarios was laying out the floor plan of a hotel ballroom she’d never been inside.

Halfway through the next bite, a problem caught up with her.

She lowered the fork.

“De Luca?”

“Yeah.”

“I drove four hours in yoga pants and a field jacket.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a Sig in my go-bag and spare tees. I do not have a black-tie gown in the trunk of my Escalade.”

He grinned, broader this time. “I was wondering when you were going to get there.”

“Don’t enjoy this.”

“I am a little.”

“Well, enjoy it quietly.” She picked up her phone. “What’s the dress code on a Curtis Lennox guest list?”

“Expensive. Pinnacle wives go big.”

“Of course they do.”