his arm…
She scrubbed her face and turned weary eyes on the detective. ‘They took a picture of us in the receiving line, but I didn’t get a copy.’
Yet. He’d promised to send one to her.
‘That would help, if I could get my hands on it.’ Morgan tapped his pen against the pad. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me about him?’
‘He was complicated,’ she admitted. That was part of what had intrigued her. He’d hidden as much as she had, but both of them had pulled back layers as the night had worn on. ‘Secretive, now that I think about it.’
‘How?’
‘He evaded the paparazzi – and he hid me, too.’
Damn him. She hated how every little good thing was being contorted.
‘He’s quick on his feet.’ He’d answered every question she’d fired at him, including the ones about accounting.
But, through it all, she hadn’t truly bought any of it, had she? She’d questioned everything about him.
Everything but that kiss.
It had stopped the questions that had been whirling in her head dead in their tracks.
‘And observant.’ Her chin snapped up. ‘He was watching people – a brunette in particular.’
The detective’s eyes narrowed, and he flipped to a new page in his notepad. ‘Can you describe her to me?’
‘Red dress. Long black hair. Olive skin. Exotic-looking, but stern. Pretty, but she didn’t look like a happy person.’
Rielle remembered the woman getting into the car ahead of them. ‘She attended the event alone.’
‘What was the theme of the evening?’ the detective asked. ‘I can find out, but –’
‘Sweden.’ Rielle swallowed hard. ‘The Prince and Princess of Sweden are visiting.’
The detective’s expression darkened. ‘I’ll find out who she was, too.’
His dark gaze pinned Rielle. This was the hard-boiled detective she knew. The relentless pursuer. ‘Is there anything else you can remember? Anything that struck you as odd?’
The whole evening had been out of the ordinary, but she shook her head.
The detective’s stare was steady. ‘Did he hurt you in any way?’
Nina flinched, but Rielle’s lips tightened. ‘No.’
Whoever the stranger had been, he’d done his best to put her at ease. He hadn’t hurt her or forced himself on her in any way.
He’d given her the best night of her life.
‘Good.’ The detective put his notepad back in his pocket. He nodded towards the door. ‘Nina? Want to make sure you lock up after me?’
To Rielle’s surprise, her boss followed. She heard the murmur of their voices as they headed to the lobby together.
‘Oh, God,’ she groaned. She raked a hand through her hair and wandered over to the panoramic windows of Nina’s office. She hated people worrying about her, trying to protect her. She’d been so close to making her way back from that.
She stared through the window at the Washington Monument. The white pillar glowed against the dark night sky. It was a postcard-perfect evening outside. Too bad she was only feeling the chill. She caught Nina’s reflection in the pane of glass.
‘You called your arch enemy?’
Her boss shrugged and swept her hand across the back of a chair. ‘I didn’t think it all the way through.’
So she’d been scared, and he was the person she’d called?
‘He’s a good man, Nina.’
Their gazes connected in the window. ‘He’s a bull in a china shop. Aggressive, persistent, male.’
‘And you like all of that about him.’
Silence greeted her in return, but for once Nina didn’t deny it.
‘I’m not the only one attracted to a man I shouldn’t be.’ Her boss toyed with her earring. ‘I saw that kiss.’
Rielle closed her eyes.
‘If I hadn’t been so afraid for you, I’d be happy for you.’ Nina’s voice was low and empathetic.
Rielle turned. The swish of the dress sounded out of place in the large office.
‘Did you tell Morgan the truth?’ Nina asked. ‘Are you really OK?’
‘I’m upset, and I’m angry. He lied to me.’
‘True, but you made some good points. Maybe some of it was real.’
Her attraction to him had been real.
Rielle shook her head. ‘He lied.’
He’d wined her and dined her. He’d kissed her goodnight. She didn’t know what his endgame was, but she should have trusted her gut from the very beginning. Instead she’d gotten caught up in the fantasy, and he’d told her it had been the best night of his life too.
‘That’s the truth,’ he’d said.
Maybe, but, if so, it was the only true thing he’d said all evening.
She’d probably learned by now that his name wasn’t Mel.
And she was probably pissed as hell.
He could picture the way her lashes would flutter in surprise, and how her doe eyes would fill with disappointment, betrayal and fear.
He’d seen the goddamn fear in her eyes too many times tonight, and he hadn’t liked it. He hadn’t liked it one bit. He hated that he was the one putting it there again.
Yet it couldn’t be helped.
His fingers drummed along the steering wheel as he sat half a block down from Luxxor Limited in a spot between streetlights. The Jeep was his own. The address he’d given the car service was nearby, but random. Neither they nor his escort could trace him back to his home or his vehicle. He knew he should just keep going, but something inside him had called him back. He’d used her, and he’d done it intentionally for his own benefit.
He just wanted to make sure it didn’t have lasting repercussions for her.
The tapping of his fingers slowed. He hadn’t thought that part through. He’d been honest with her about some things, and having to improvise on a date for tonight’s reception had been one of them. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time – from her vantage point anyway.
He didn’t want
