grazed Kenley’s, “is her sister, Korinne. Kori will be keeping you company this week.”
I blinked, confused, and glanced from Kenley Daniels to her sister, whose coloring matched Kenley’s exactly—same platinum hair, pale skin, and deep brown eyes. Korinne was only an inch or so taller. She was a virtual match to the description I’d given Tower when he asked what I’d desire most in a liaison—the description of her sister.
“A pleasure,” I said on autopilot, as I released Kenley’s hand in favor of Kori’s, still reeling from the bait-and-switch. Only it couldn’t be a bait-and-switch, because Tower didn’t know I’d had anyone specific in mind as my liaison.
And I hadn’t known his mistake was possible, because Kori Daniels wasn’t possible. She was dead. Every single one of Aaron’s sources had said the same thing. She’d been a fixture at Tower’s side for years—a strategically visible threat—then she’d disappeared several weeks ago. Gone, with no trace and no explanation.
In the syndicate, that can only mean one thing.
Yet there she stood, clearly alive and breathing, and waiting for me to shake the hand she held out. So I did.
She let go of my hand almost the instant we touched.
“Kori will be your tour guide,” Tower continued. “She will also be your assistant, your chauffeur and your personal security while you are here. Anything you want, Kori will provide.”
But Kori looked like she’d rather perform CPR on a leper than ever touch me again, even if only to hand me a cup of coffee.
My thoughts raced while I struggled to recover from surprise and frustration, without showing either. “You have security experience?” I said as if I didn’t already know the answer, grasping at the only reasonable excuse I might have to reject her services. There had to be a reason she was no longer guarding the boss, and if he didn’t trust her, why should I?
“Six years on my personal security detail,” Tower said, and I was starting to wonder if my new liaison even had a tongue. “I assure you, Kori is everything you requested, and more.”
Something silent and angry passed between Tower and the taller, older Daniels sister as her jaw clenched visibly and his gaze went hard. Kenley Daniels stared at her feet in the awkward silence, and Jonah Tower smirked when Kori flinched first, and looked away from her boss.
“Well, then, Mr. Holt, I believe we’re scheduled to discuss business later, but tonight is for drinking, and dancing, and mingling. I have some other guests to greet, so I’m going to leave you in Korinne’s capable hands for the moment. Please make yourself at home in my home.”
With that, Tower guided his wife toward a couple I vaguely recognized from the cover of some financial magazine, and the rest of his entourage followed. Leaving me alone with Korinne Daniels, who held an untouched flute of champagne but showed no sign of sipping from it. Or of acknowledging my presence.
How could she be alive? Where the hell had she been for the past few weeks? I’d made sure that none of the other women photographed with Tower recently had pale blond hair, specifically to avoid this kind of mistake.
Weeks of research and study, down the drain.
“So …” I said, watching Kori watch the rest of the room, trying not to let frustration leak into my voice. “You’re one of Tower’s bodyguards?”
“Was,” she said, and her posture tensed almost imperceptibly as she stared at something over my shoulder. I twisted to see Jonah Tower guiding her sister through the crowd with one hand at her lower back, and when I turned back to Kori, I found her eyes narrowed, one fist clenched at her side.
Were Jonah and Kenley involved? If so, Kori clearly didn’t approve. Neither did I. Jonah Tower didn’t like me, which could make it very hard for me to get close to Kenley if they were together. Unless her sister trusted me …
I studied Kori as she watched them wind their way through the crowd, trying to assess her more clearly now that I was over my initial surprise at being saddled with the wrong Daniels sister.
Korinne was slightly taller than her sister, but much thinner. Too thin, really. Her hip bones showed through the material of her dress and the points of her collarbone looked like they might pierce her skin at the slightest pressure. Her makeup was expertly applied, but couldn’t quite cover the dark circles under her eyes or skin that looked sickly pale, in contrast to her sister’s naturally fair complexion.
Still, she was pretty, in a hard-edged, angry kind of way.
Kori glanced up and caught me staring, and I held her gaze. “What do you do now?” I asked, trying to pick up the thread of a conversation that already seemed destined to unravel.
“Now I babysit you,” she snapped, and I blinked in the face of such candor. Then almost laughed out loud. I’d expected Tower’s people to be overaccommodating and ingratiatingly polite. Perhaps even sycophantic. Unvarnished honesty was a surprise.
“I meant, what do you do for Tower? What’s your role in his organization?” When my question produced only a blank, half-puzzled look, like she wasn’t sure she even knew the answer, I tried again from another angle. “Would it be impolite of me to ask about your Skill, considering you already know mine?”
“Hell yes.” She flinched and rubbed her temple with one hand. Then she rolled her eyes at nothing. “I’m a Traveler.”
A shadow-walker, just like Aaron.
“I assume you’re good with a gun, since you used to be a bodyguard. Any other special skills?” But I could tell with one look at her closed-off expression that I’d picked the wrong approach.
Kori Daniels didn’t want to talk about herself. She didn’t want to talk to me. And she certainly didn’t want to relax. She looked a little like she wanted to rip my head off and spit down my throat. “A special skill?”
I nodded, and too late I realized she’d found innuendo where I hadn’t intended it.
I shook my head and tried to rephrase the question, but then she stepped closer, until she was in my personal space, not quite touching me, but so close air couldn’t have flowed between us. She went up on her toes, like she might nibble on my ear, or share some dirty little secret. Then she whispered, so softly no one else could have heard.
“I do have a special skill,” she murmured, her breath warm on my neck, her voice soft and low-pitched, with that hot, gravelly quality some women get when they’re really turned on, and my pulse raced a little in spite of my very clear objective. “I’m pretty good with knives. I’m so good, in fact, that I could sever your testicles with one hand and slice open your throat with the other, and you’d go into shock so fast you’d die without ever knowing you’d spilled a fucking drop of blood.”
Korinne settled back onto her heels and smiled up at me like she’d just promised to fulfill my dirtiest, most secret desire, and I felt the blood drain from my face.
This was not the woman I’d ordered.
Three
Kori
I sipped from my glass and enjoyed
