WOULD-BE CHRISTMAS WEDDING (11 page)

She slid into the chair, crossed her legs and drummed her fingers against the upholstery. “Oh, no, you’re definitely bad-guy material. At least that’s what you want me to believe.”

“It’s more true than you know.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged one delicate shoulder and blew him off.

“God, you’re stubborn.”

“I am. It comes in handy.” She reached over and patted the couch. “Now, come on and show me something useful before we get interrupted again. I’m not letting you renege.”

“A bad guy would renege,” he pointed out.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

She was going into ops, and from what he’d heard through the bugs he’d planted in her house, no one close to her supported the decision.

Sure, they’d had more years with her, knew her far better than he did. Apparently that blurred their vision, or maybe they just didn’t realize how strong she had to be to do what she’d been doing all these years: waiting and praying that a loved one in harm’s way would come home safe.

From where he stood, Cecelia Manning was smart, brave and determined. Possibly too determined, he amended as she continued to stare him down. The CIA would be lucky to have her in an operations capacity.

He pulled up one of the fake files he’d given Isely and a picture he’d previously sent to use as an example. Side by side from his laptop to hers, he taught her the basics of how he manipulated the intel. She was a quick study, using the tips he showed her to embed information in photographs, to transfer files away from the home system and to leave breadcrumbs that pointed in another direction.

“Emmett?” She waited for him to glance at her screen. “How does this look?” She tucked her hands under her legs as if she feared he would see them tremble as he reviewed her first effort at concealing information in a digital photo.

He reviewed her coding, then asked her to show him the research she’d found on the Irina. “Thomas is an idiot.”

* * *

C
ECELIA
’
S
FINGERS
WENT
still on the keyboard. As a little sister perpetually in her brother’s shadow, it wasn’t that she didn’t have cause to agree, but she wanted to be sure why this man thought so. “Do I need to defend my brother?”

“I bugged your house, remember? I heard that crack he made about not recruiting you.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt,” she said lightly. She’d had a lifetime to get used to it. “It would be more accurate to say he’s averse to change. I’m the baby sister and I’ve been a predictable and known quantity in his life since I was born. He can’t help wanting to keep me in that box.”

“I have a feeling your current situation will blow the lid right off that box,” he said.

“Agreed.” She switched to another window so he could check that code, as well. “Did I do this one right?”

“Nice work.”

She wanted to celebrate but decided to save it for private. “Thanks.”

“You’ll make a good partner one day.”

“Not that you ever use them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking of last night and the possible break-in at my house. You were with me, and you appear to be working this operation alone. Or you were. Who else would have cause to search my home?”

His cool eyes went flat and she knew he shared her concern. “I’ve wanted to ask you about that and about your work. It’s possible Isely thinks you know something or can access something valuable.”

“I don’t know anything of value to a man like him. Unless he’s in the market for a human-resources lackey.”

“You’re no lackey,” he grumbled.

She appreciated the vote of confidence, especially from this unexpected source. “I’ll do a little research—”

“No. Leave that to me. I have more free time than you do today.”

She glanced at her watch. “Casey and the girls will be here soon. We have appointments with the hotel spa before it’s time to dress for the evening.”

“Tell me I don’t have to go along.”

His stricken expression made her laugh. “Relax, no one’s going to tie you down and force you to have a mani-pedi.”

“I don’t want to know what that is.”

“Such a bachelor,” she teased.

“Always.” He packed up his computer. “If you promise not to leave the hotel, there are a few things I should see to in person.”

“Isely?”

“Best to keep a volatile client calm.”

As if he read her worry before she could say a word, he traced the curve of her shoulder with his fingertip, instantly distracting her. “I’ll come back up to dress when you’ve all cleared out.”

“But you will be there tonight?” The thought of never seeing him again slashed through her, made her ache.

He nodded.

“Say the words, Emmett. Tell me you’ll be at the gala as my guest, not just because Isely wants you to be there.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part, but there it was.

“I’ll be there for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, weak with relief.

A new awareness arced between them. For her it came from having an expert field agent take her seriously as much as her growing affection for a man determined to stand apart from the world...and to keep her safe in the process.

He wasn’t the only one who knew his way around and through computer systems. At his side, she’d done almost as much digging as learning today, and discovered his past—at least those days before he went behind the technological curtain of Mission Recovery—was full of white-knight behavior.

Since June he’d systematically alienated each of his allies, but thanks to what he’d taught her, she knew he was doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons.

She understood she might very well be interpreting his actions favorably on purpose, but she didn’t care. Intuition told her that white knight had been buried deep, for a long time, as a matter of survival.

“Give me your phone.”

She found it on the table and handed it to him. He entered something and handed it back. “Keep it on and keep it with you. As long as Casey stays close, he won’t make a move. I’m speed-dial one if anything happens. Just call and leave the line open.”

“And if you need me?”

His smile sent butterflies winging through her belly. “You’ll know.”

“Emmett, whatever happens tonight, please know that I trust you.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t.”

Chapter Eleven

She had to admire his timing. Emmett had cleared the suite minutes before Casey had knocked on the door. They caught up on family and simple things, but serious talk had to wait as her friends arrived to help shuttle things downstairs.

They’d just returned from setting up the gift table when the suite phone rang and Cecelia cringed as Casey picked it up. What if it was Emmett? Would her daughter disapprove of her social life as much as she disapproved of her new career goals? Would she call Thomas and give away Emmett’s location?

“Sure, she’s right here.” Casey covered the receiver with her palm. “A detective for you.”

“Jerry?”

Casey shook her head as Cecelia took the phone and introduced herself.

“Ah, Mrs. Manning. If you could come down to the hotel café, please. We just need another moment of your time.”

“We’re terribly busy. I gave my statement to Detective Gadsden last night. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid not. We have suspects in holding, but I can’t keep them there without cause. I just need you to take a look at a few photos.”

“Of course. I’ll be right down.”

She knew there was more to it. Detective Gadsden should have been asking her these questions. The voice wasn’t quite right, either, but she refused to cower again. She’d be safe enough in the café with her daughter beside her.

“I have to go downstairs for a moment and look at a couple of pictures. Apparently they have some suspects in last night’s trouble. Will you come with me?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Cecelia gave an excuse to the other women who were taking the last load of items out of the suite, then she and Casey headed downstairs.

“It didn’t sound like Detective Gadsden,” Casey said.

“No, it wasn’t. He must have sent a colleague.” She punched the button for the lobby level as well as the floor above it. “Can you keep an eye on me—be my backup—and still let me handle whatever this is?”

“Are you expecting trouble?”

“After last night, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.” That was an understatement, for sure. “It should be a straightforward process, but if I’m wrong, do the right thing and call your uncle.”

“You know I will.”

Cecelia’s palms were damp as the elevator stopped and the doors opened at the second floor. “I mean it, honey. Don’t interfere, just make the call.”

Casey didn’t look happy about it, but she made the promise as the doors closed between them.

At the café, a man with dark hair brushed back from a face that might have passed for mid-twenties stood up from a nearby table as she paused at the hostess station.

“Mrs. Manning?” He flashed a badge, and then extended his hand. “A pleasure to meet you. I’ve ordered coffee.”

Closer now, she could see he wasn’t as young as first glance implied. “Thank you, but I’m terribly short on time.”

“A big night ahead of you.” He gestured for her to join him at his table.

“Yes.” She settled into a chair and waited for him to resume his.

“I’ve heard about the gala. The pediatric department is fortunate you’re on their side.”

He was a little too slick for Cecelia’s taste, and there was something in his eyes that warned her to tread carefully. Her phone was in her lap, turned on and ready to press the number one.

“It was my husband’s idea, and I’m pleased to carry it out.” She poured herself a cup of coffee in hopes of appearing far calmer than she was.

He pushed a folder across the table and opened it. Only two pictures were inside, and neither of them bore the slightest resemblance to last night’s assailants. She looked from a candid shot of her brother to a similarly candid shot of Emmett. Then she looked back up at the man who was certainly not a detective.

And then she knew. She’d walked right into his trap. “Mr. Isely?”

He nodded. “Forgive the deception.”

Emmett would be furious, and she’d never forgive her stupidity if she let herself get taken. She scooted her chair away from the table. “I really must get back to the preparations upstairs.”

“But I only need a moment. Which man means more to you, I wonder?”

Terror lit in her body. The air in her lungs turned to stone.

“Do give me an answer. I have a man positioned behind your daughter, ready to put a bullet in her head at my command.”

With a steady hand, Cecelia raised her coffee cup to her lips, smiling over the rim. She would not alarm the other patrons or give this monster any reason to hurt her daughter.

“I love my brother.”

“Blood over lust, then?”

She waited, her hands calm in her lap as she glanced around. “Where is Mr. Holt?”

“Not to worry, he’ll be here to dance with you again tonight. As they say, I’m banking on it.”

Who was this man? He dared to make a move like this—in the open? He had to know that her brother as well as Emmett would be watching her. The bastard seemed fearless.
Do this right, Cecelia.
She needed to play the part. Make the right moves. For all their sakes. “Will you be in attendance, as well? I might be able to arrange a seat in exchange for an appropriate donation.”

Isely stared at her. “You are remarkable.”

“Thank you.” She set the cup down, thankfully without cracking the saucer. “If you’ll excuse me?”

“Not quite yet. Where is the formula?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And that lack of knowledge sent a chill skating down her spine. This man was dangerous in a way she’d never faced before. She’d met all kinds of people through her husband’s career and living in this area, and she knew everyone had secrets. But Isely oozed lethal in an entirely different capacity.

“You are a very poor liar,” he said. “I advise you to choose discretion over valor here, Mrs. Manning. Unless your skills improve, you will need a great deal of assistance from friends in your new career. We might come to a mutually profitable arrangement if you cooperate now.”

“I believe the term is ‘asset.’ And I will never be one of yours.”

“Tell me where I can find the formula or I will take down your brother and expose his crimes for the world to judge.”

His threats and arrogance ignited something dark and deadly deep inside her. She felt the shift like an earthquake as her resolve kicked into high gear. She never considered herself capable of blood lust, but she had an overwhelming need to send Mr. Isely straight to hell. The man sold weapons to the highest bidder, invested in research for the sole purpose of profiting from atrocities. He was as low as a life form could be.

“You’ll try to do that anyway,” she countered.

“Try?” He arched a brow. “No, no. I always succeed in my endeavors. However, one detail from you could prevent much suffering.”

“No. I don’t quite trust you, sir.” She knew he would eventually try to take down Thomas anyway, for the sake of his revenge if he got nothing else from this venture. She had to pause to keep from shouting. Or leaping across the table and attempting to strangle him. Either action would surely be construed as a signal to shoot Casey. “As for Thomas, he can take care of himself.”

“I know you need to believe it.”

It was too much. He didn’t know her, would never know her. The pricey suit and cultured voice were merely a costume to hide his lack of humanity. By design or circumstance, he’d become something absolutely vile. But he would never know her or her brother.

“You know nothing about me or my needs.” She was a moment away from tossing the coffeepot at his head. “I cannot give you what I do not have. I suggest you take your own advice and discreetly crawl back under the rock where you belong.”

“Well, well.” He sat back in his chair, a reptilian smile sliding across his face. “You are a delightful surprise. I am so honored, Mrs. Manning, to be the first to see this side of you.”

“You will not succeed.” She leaned forward. “I won’t let you.”

“Oh, I look forward to our next meeting.” He stood. She did the same. “Have a lovely evening.”

She had to find Emmett... She blinked, realized she had totally forgotten to hit the speed dial for him.

Too late to worry about that now. She had to find her daughter.