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Her role also involved monitoring the event, but her attire was strikingly different from his own. She was dressed in a seductive costume, designed to catch the eyes of the guests below and add to the spice of the engagement. His uniform was meant to keep him in the shadows.
Frustration rose within him, both at her presence and his own inability to stay focused. He couldn’t deny the hold she had on him, as he watched her turn back. Her dusky nipples were just barely visible through the sheer fabric of her bra.
In his mind, Ryder imagined a scenario where he isolated his microphone, allowing him to whisper naughty things to her. Daring her to touch herself in ways only he could see. Of course, he’d have to focus Gunner’s attention on another camera.
God dammit, he thought as he minimized her camera. What was he, a fucking teenager? Next, he’d be fantasizing about riding back to Chicago with her behind him on his bike.
“Guest of honor arriving,” Gunner announced, jerking Ryder out of his thoughts. Their phones echoed the same thing, and he refocused his attention on the monitors.
Like the supermodel she was, Mags made her grand entrance.
Black hair flowed curly and loose behind her, almost to her calves. On her head perched a sparkling, diamond-encrusted tiara from which flowed a sparkling silver veil. A microscopic, crystal bra top pushed her breasts into tantalising globes. A matching g-string barely hid her mound, and every inch of her skin shone like polished silver.
“If that g-string goes all the way around—” Gunner murmured with a grimace. “Ouch is all I can say.”
Mags—codenamed, fittingly, Glitter—glided on bare feet through the front door. The inside camera picked up the intricate swirls of a sparkling, charcoal-colored henna tattoo down her arms. The shimmering jewels that dotted her exposed stomach caught the light through it sharply into the camera.
Her presence commanded attention, and Ryder and Gunner carefully monitored her movements, ensuring the male consultants earmarked to accompany her were the only ones nearby.
Glitter was the last one scheduled to arrive. Ryder looked at the front gate cameras, noting no other vehicles waiting on the street.
“Clear at the gate?” he checked with Phoenix.
“All clear,” came the reply. One by one, every team member confirmed that all was quiet.
With renewed determination, he set aside his earlier imaginings and stepped into his role of protector. No fucking way would anything go wrong with this engagement.
Gunner fell silent, picking up his cue from Ryder. Their motions as they moved from camera to camera were deliberate, calm.
“I’ll take the ballroom cameras,” Ryder said. “Can you monitor the wide angle and outside ones?”
“You get all the fun,” Gunner murmured, before agreeing.
Ryder huffed a small laugh. If only Gunner knew that the fun he’d have chosen involved watching the woman in the wide-angle camera. He couldn’t afford that kind of distraction. She was already interfering in his professionalism through no fault of her own. Just by breathing.
Breathing in a flimsy, see-through bathing suit, that is, he told himself. He minimized the camera’s window, hoping that out of sight would really mean out of mind.
He didn’t know that fifteen minutes later, she’d go missing.
30
Nita tried to ignore the camera on the wall opposite the mezzanine. Obviously, the dude, Taurus, had been reminded he was on the job. And who else would do that but Ryder? And how else would he know Taurus was chatting with her unless he’d been watching them? From that camera with the steady red light?
Thoughts of Ryder reminded her of her apology, and that made her scowl. But Lindsey’s notification that the guest of honor was arriving forced her to push those thoughts aside and focus on the palm trees clustered around the entrance of the ballroom below.
Despite the draping of the diaphanous chiffon over the space, she watched the mingling clients and consultants go still as the glowing figure of Mags entered.
Not Mags,she reminded herself.
“Glitter,” Nita whispered, leaning over the railing. The room burst with an anticipation so intense, it felt like a physical mist wafting up to envelop her body.
Glitter wasn’t a concubine as much as she was a silver goddess. She couldn’t help grabbing everyone’s attention. She was the only one in silver and diamonds, while everyone else’s costumes blended into the cream and sandy hues of the desert-themed ballroom.
The air hung heavy with a dizzy mix of exotic scents and buzzing excitement. The shimmering tapestries and golden candlelight fluttered with the extra scents and breeze that the hidden fans forced into the room. As the main lighting dimmed, casting even more seductive shadows, the chattering of the guests dropped to a murmur. Bodies moved into their places in the mystical setting.
Slow and sultry notes from stringed instruments, underscored by soft drums and lilting flutes, swirled through the room from hidden speakers. The enchanting melodies wove a spell on the gathering, and she noticed even herself swaying in time.
The murmured conversations hushed, giving way to lingering gazes and subtle gestures of intrigue by the consultants. The guests, carried away by the allure of the moment, moved with grace and fluidity, their costumes glinting and rustling with their every move.
