Page 2 of Hidden With You

“That and Quincy’s recommendation,” Ryan retorted. Quincy Radcliffe, a former colleague from MI6, had left the service years ago. Jasper had heard rumors that he’d been involved in a vigilante group founded by billionaire playboy Dallas Sykes, but that seemed so unlike Quincy that Jasper had discounted the intel. Then again, the world was full of strange things—Jasper himself was proof of that— so maybe it was true. All he knew for sure was that Quincy was one of the first agents recruited to Stark Security by its founder, billionaire Damien Stark.

So when the possible trails to his family’s killer petered down to one narrow path leading to the States, Jasper had made a call. Quincy had introduced him to Damien and Ryan, and just like that, Jasper had a solid base in the States from where he could run his own operation. While doing the job they paid him for, too, of course.

“We don’t have sunsets like that in London,” Jasper said, gesturing at the pyrotechnics that were wrapping up in front of them, seemingly lighting the ocean on fire. Soon, darkness would fall completely, and the only illumination would come from the upper patio where the party was starting to ramp up as more and more guests arrived.

“We ordered it especially for you,” Ryan said. “Wanted you to feel good about accepting this job.”

“You certainly know how to roll out the red carpet.” He turned to face his boss. “Seriously, thank you. It was time to leave London. Time for a change.” That had been his excuse. The well-rehearsed explanation that after so many years, he needed to leave the memories behind. He could hardly tell his new boss that not only would his attention be split, but that he also intended to covertly utilize his new employer’s tech to follow that precious, single lead.

Ryan nodded, his expression compassionate. “Come on. You already met Jamie, but Zelda’s just arrived. And this party’s just as much about her.”

“Sounds good.” He stood at the same time Ryan did, then shrugged into his jacket before bending down for his shoes. He slipped them on, then glanced once more at the infinite ocean. The light was gone, and the world hung in shades of gray. The same gray that had enveloped him since Sandra’s and Bonnie’s light had been stolen from him. His wife had been thirty. Their daughter only five. Two entire lives gone, and he’d never get them back.

But somehow, someday, he would avenge them.

He turned his back to the gray, then followed Ryan up the wood and stone staircase that led toward the twinkling fairy-style lights that illuminated the upper levels of the huge back patio, and with each step he told himself he was getting closer to his goal.

“We’re so glad you could make it,” Jamie Archer Hunter said as she squeezed his hand and flashed a very camera-ready smile. She was the kind of woman the camera loved, with her sculptured face, wide mouth, and thick, dark hair. He knew she’d worked as an entertainment reporter and part-time actress before finally landing solid roles, including the lead in the upcoming Intercontinental, a thriller based on a book written by the other guest of honor, Zelda Clayton.

They were on the top level of decking by the infinity pool. The house was designed with four levels of decks, the top one partially covered with huge glass doors that could be fully opened. During the day, the view must be incredible. At night, the stars twinkled above, the house far enough away from its neighbors to welcome the darkness and invite starlight, making this outdoor living space warm and inviting and beautiful. Jasper could only assume the interior of the home was equally remarkable.

“I hope you didn’t feel obligated to come,” Jamie added, “what with being the new guy and all. This really wasn’t intended to be a command performance.”

Jasper laughed, immediately liking this woman. He’d heard that she said what was on her mind—most often unfiltered—and he appreciated the honesty. “Truth? I heard the house was completely remodeled by Jackson Steele, so I wanted to see it. And, of course, I wanted to congratulate you on your movie.”

“Liar,” she said with a laugh. “About the movie. I believe you about Jackson.”

He grinned. Jasper was a long-time fan of the renowned architect’s work. A man who also happened to be Stark’s half-brother.

“We completely lucked into this house,” Jamie said. “The former owner ended up moving away. A family thing. And then Damien mentioned to Ryan that it was going on the market, and we had Jackson come over to suss out the potential.” She shrugged. “So now we live next door to our best friends. It’s pretty awesome.” Her smile rivaled the sky’s brightest stars.

“At any rate,” she continued, “I’ll give you the tour later, or feel free to wander inside. Jackson did a freaking amazing job.” Her mouth twisted, and she rolled her eyes. “Did you hear that? I really just said freaking. That’s me censoring my language even when there are absolutely zero kids around. Yo, Nicholas,” she shouted to a lovely blond woman he recognized from various photos as Nikki Stark. “You and your brood have ruined me.”

“I’ve got news for you, James,” Nikki called back. “You were already ruined.”

She shifted as she spoke, the movement just enough for Jasper to catch a glimpse of a woman passing behind her. The vision wore a dangerously short metallic-gold dress, her brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, the flickering lights catching some strands and making them glow red.

Inexplicably, he took a step forward, pausing when she disappeared behind a cluster of guests. Who was she?

“—totally right.”

Jamie’s words startled him, and he shook himself, mortified at his almost physical reaction to the woman in gold. He tried to think why—she hadn’t reminded him of Sandra. She was pretty enough, but not breathtakingly beautiful. She didn’t look the slightest bit familiar.

And yet damned if there hadn’t been a tug.

“I lost you,” Jamie said with a laugh. “Oh, god, I’ve turned into a boring hostess. I never would have believed it.”

“You? Never. I just saw—”

She waited for him to finish his thought.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “Possibly someone I knew.” That wasn’t it, but it was the only thing that sounded plausible. “Lost her in the darkness and the crowd.”

“Well, we’ll have to find her, won’t we?”

He could practically see the gleam of matchmaking in her eyes, and since that was absolutely not on his agenda, he scrambled to change the subject. “Did I hear you call Nikki Stark Nicholas? And she called you James?”

“Oh, totally. Childhood nicknames.”