Heat Seeker (32 page)

“You’re making quite an impression,” she murmured to John as he returned to her several nights later in the ballroom after meeting the four men for drinks.

“There’s no way those four men work together,” he growled. “Do you realize that in the past six years they have argued over the simplest vote, and almost come to blows over each idea that has been broached to making your companies more efficient and employee-friendly?” He looked outraged. “Do you know one of those bastards nearly hit
me
?”

“Really?” She hadn’t known that. She had been too busy trying to pin the name Warbucks to one of them.

“Bailey, those four are psychopaths posing as businessmen.” He was in her face, his expression bordering furiously amazed. “They need to be locked away for the safety of everyone they know.”

Bailey stared back at him in surprise. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

She turned back to the shrimp bowl on the buffet table and debated a few more when he caught her arm and pulled her around to face him once again.

“Bailey, it is that bad,” he growled, horror obviously reflecting in his gaze. “If you ever, and I mean ever, decide to actually take responsibility for the inheritance your parents left you, then you have a fucking mess on your hands.”

“That boy likes to overexaggerate!” Bailey turned around, reeling from the obvious criticism that she neglected her inheritance, to meet Ronald Claymore’s furious, brows-lowered, forehead-drawn expression. He looked just as pissed as John. “If you end up marrying this brazen little upstart, then we’re going to have words.”

“Ronald, you never could tolerate anyone who could out-yell you,” Samuel Waterstone expressed in precise, cold tones from behind him. “Don’t punish her because he’s louder than you are.” He then glowered at John. “He’s louder than all of us.”

When exactly had the Twilight Zone decided to visit Aspen, Colorado?

“Ignore them, Bailey.” Ford was the only one who
showed a reasonable amount of goodwill. A smile quirked at his lips and his gray eyes reflected something she hadn’t seen since she was a child. A sense of fun. “They’ve gotten too old to enjoy a good fight.”

Stephen Menton-Squire was glaring at all of them. “The boy is a damned bastard,” he muttered, drawing disapproving glances from the other three men.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” John gripped Bailey’s arm at the elbow, his expression filled with irritation. “I don’t think you need to be a part of this conversation.”

“Wait, this conversation involves us.” Stephen turned on John with a fierce frown as he jerked his evening jacket into place and straightened his thick shoulders. “We should obviously be present.”

“In a padded room,” John bit out with a frown just as dangerously dark as the other man’s. “And only if you show some respect when a lady is present.”

He drew her quickly away. Looking over her shoulder, she caught Ford’s obvious chuckle as the other three men began to argue among themselves, again.

It was normal. For the first time since returning home, Bailey remembered something good about the times she and her parents had spent with the four men and their families. When Ben Serborne engaged in a war of words with these men, it made an all-out brawl look gentle.

“They’re like children,” she murmured with a sense of nostalgia.

“I’d rather deal with terrorists armed with nuclear capabilities,” John muttered as he drew her to the dance floor and took her in his arms before glaring back at them. “You need to do something about them where your companies are concerned.”

She looked back at him in surprise. “Not my area. The business was Father’s love affair, not mine.”

“It’s your children’s inheritance,” he informed her, anger still vibrating in his voice as his hand pressed her closer to him and she felt the warmth of his larger body surrounding her.

“I don’t have children,” she pointed out. “And I don’t intend to have any.”

He almost stopped in the middle of the floor, surprise drawing his expression tight once again. “You will eventually,” he finally stated carefully.

Bailey met his gaze with one of determination. “No, John, I won’t. The father of my children died. Remember?” She kept her voice carefully low, kept her lips hidden so they couldn’t be read. But she didn’t hide the truth from him.

She’d rather be alone than to be with a man simply because she wanted a family or children. It wouldn’t be fair to the man, but it especially wouldn’t be fair to the children.

He didn’t say anything. Hell, what could he say? It was the truth. He was going to disappear from her life just as he had the first time, except this time she would know he was out there, without her.

“The business is your legacy,” he finally stated as he tucked her closer to him. “It will go to someone, Bailey. Leaving it to charity is unconscionable.”

“And taking care of it myself is outside my range of abilities,” she told him. “I’m not a businesswoman, John. I don’t want to be one.”

Once this was over, she would take enough of her inheritance to retire. A nice little house someplace quiet, a peaceful little neighborhood where she could retreat from the battles she had faced over the years.

She deserved it, she told herself. She was looking at losing the man she loved twice in one lifetime. There would be no children, no family, and the white picket fence would be for looks only.

How was he supposed to answer that one? John wondered then. She had been an agent from the age of eighteen until she had been fired the year before. She had lived to destroy the person or persons responsible for killing those she had loved. The only time that love had overwhelmed that desire, it had been taken from her.

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?”

“With my 401(k), my pension, and my service record,” she replied with obvious boredom. “Shot to hell when I was fired.”

He stared back at her curiously. “I never believed you’d back Father over anything.” He shook his head. “He’s not the man he’s obviously convinced you of, Bailey. We both know that.”

She remained silent. She could understand why he was questioning her. To him, the change he saw in her would be confusing.

“You know he isn’t,” he said,

“None of us are.” She shrugged. “As you said, I was an agent. I’ve been one since I was eighteen, Wagner. In all those years I was never able to put a crime to your father’s name, and trust me, I’ve tried. Perhaps I’m the one who has been wrong all these years. And even if I wasn’t, then it doesn’t matter. I won’t turn on the only family I have left.”

“Maybe there is proof,” he suggested carefully. “Proof that would prove he’s not what he seems to be.”

She narrowed her gaze and watched him carefully. “Be careful, Wagner,” she began.

“Listen, meet me later.” His voice lowered as his hand tightened at her hip. “Give me just a few minutes, Bailey. Let me show you that he doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”

Her lips pressed together as she appeared to consider the request.

“For Anna, Bailey. Do this for Anna,” he whispered.

She breathed out heavily. “Tonight, after the ball,” she told him. “Whatever you have, bring it to the room.”

“Come to mine,” he urged her. “Alone. Vincent can’t be there. He’s too tight with the fathers to suit me. And what one is doing, you can bet the others are involved in.”

And what the hell did that mean? Could Wagner actually have proof that any of them were Warbucks? Or were involved with that traitor?

“I’ll be there.” She nodded. “I can’t promise when.”

“That’s good enough,” he nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

The music drew to an end. Wagner took her hand and led her back to John.

“Thank you for the dance.” He nodded graciously. “Good night.”

Bailey watched him leave as she felt John’s hand move to the center of her back, where his fingertips massaged her spine subtly.

“I have to meet with him later,” she said quietly. “He says he has some kind of evidence against Ford. Something that proves he doesn’t deserve my loyalty.”

“Did he mention what?” John nuzzled her ear slowly, sending a wave of pleasure rushing down her back. She felt like arching like a cat beneath his touch.

“He didn’t say.” She shrugged. “He’ll be waiting on me tonight after the festivities down here are over.”