frown deepened as he swore mentally. He’d had such a good thing going with Emily, and now he was going to have to run again. And this time without a rope. He let his arm drop off Emily’s shoulder and he tensed to charge the two men. He’d take the smaller one on the right first and spin him into his bigger, more dangerous-looking buddy.
Emily spoke up without warning. “Actually, we would mind. Mr. Holtz and I are trying to enjoy our New Year’s Eve here. There’s no law against walking around the water garden.”
The bigger one replied, “We’ve had a security breach tonight, and we’re looking for a man dressed in all black and matching the general height and build of your … friend.”
“I see,” she replied frostily, shrugging off Jagger’s coat and handing it back to him. “Now you can see that my friend is not wearing all black. He was merely being a gentleman and loaning me his coat.”
God bless her. He couldn’t have asked for a better cover story if he’d prepped her himself.
The smaller guard opened his mouth, but Jagger interrupted him, impatiently now. The average innocent guy with a few drinks in him and a hot chick beside him would be getting all kinds of irritated, so he let a hint of testosterone-induced posturing creep into the exchange. “The lady and I arrived together. You can ask Horace down at the front desk.”
The smaller guard glowered but murmured into his coat collar. The reply was swift. A finger to his ear and the guard nodded reluctantly at his partner. Both looked more than a little disgruntled. “Horace remembers the two of you arriving. Sorry to bother you. Have a nice night.” With that, the guards turned and left.
Emily complained, “I know this place can be a police state, but good grief.”
Jagger steered her toward the elevator. “Let’s go back inside. You’re shivering.”
“It’s not the cold. It’s those thugs. They give me the creeps.”
“You’re going to have to get used to facing down thugs if you want to live a life of adventure and mayhem, Danger Girl.”
“I don’t need mayhem. Just some naughty shoes and a little adventure with a hot guy now and then.”
His lips curved upward. Hot, was he?
They rode the elevator down to the party in silence. In a single sweeping glance of the room, he spotted no less than twelve men with earpieces carrying themselves like more of Emily’s thugs. The back of his neck started to tingle. He didn’t like how they were arrayed around the room. It looked for all the world like an ambush about to be sprung. With him as the main course. Time to blow this popsicle stand.
Smiling casually for the thugs’ benefit, he murmured, “Speaking of adventure, what say we relocate this party to someplace less thug-infested?”
She looked up at him in surprise. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about my place? We can take your car and that way you can leave whenever you want.” In his experience, the safer a woman felt about her ability to leave a place, the more she was inclined to stay. He added, “I don’t need all these security guys eyeing me like I’m some criminal for the next two hours.”
She glanced around. “Good point.”
“No pressure, Em. Just a bottle of champagne and a bite to eat. I don’t expect any more than that.”
She blinked up at him, her mouth and eyes round. Was she so innocent that it actually hadn’t occurred to her that he might be propositioning her for sex when he invited her to his place?
She nodded in sudden decision. “As my first act of daring in the almost new year, I, Danger Girl, accept your invitation. Let’s go.”
He grinned, enormously relieved. He dared not let her leave his side until he was well clear of this place, lest the security team swoop in and grab him. He picked up both of their coats, and he made a humorous production of mummifying her in her scarf, hat, parka and mittens. It culminated with her sticking her tongue out at him and yanking her scarf up over her face. Ah, sweet Emily. She had no idea what a good act she was putting on for the cameras. He could kiss her.
Hell, he could kiss her and it wouldn’t have a damned thing to do with AbaCo’s uptight security team.
The two of them took the elevator down to the parking garage and walked quickly to her car. He never once glanced in the direction of the pillar where he’d stashed his gear earlier. He hadn’t spotted a camera, but there undoubtedly was one down here. And just as undoubtedly, someone was watching for his reaction to the hiding place of the suspicious backpack the security team had found earlier.
“The roads aren’t in great shape. Would you like me to drive?” he offered. “I have a lot of experience on ice.”
“Uh, okay,” she replied. He opened her door for her and then went around to the driver’s side of her car. He eased the vehicle out of the parking space and started up the ramp.
“Where’d you learn to drive on ice?” she asked.
He couldn’t very well tell her about his numerous illegal forays into Russia. “Alaska,” he replied blandly. In point of fact, he’d done some Arctic training up there that had happened to include some offensive driving classes. Doing donuts on sheet ice was a kick for the first dozen revolutions or so. Then it just made a guy sick to his stomach.
“Cool. I’ve always wanted to go there,” she said brightly.
“So take a vacation there this year, Danger Girl.”
She looked over at him, her eyes sparkling like diamonds. “Maybe I will.”
He maneuvered confidently through the traffic, wary of drunks. But it wasn’t midnight yet, and the majority of partygoers wouldn’t hit the highways for another couple of hours. He turned the heat up full blast, and it had the desired effect. Before long, Emily had shed most of her outer layers. The view was much better now. Despite how slender she was, she had a nicely proportioned cleavage, not huge, but full and round and tempting.
“Wow. You are a good driver,” she commented.
“It’s all about being decisive and knowing what your tires can do.”
Silence fell between them and he pulled out his cell phone, dialed his hotel one-handed and asked for room service. When a female voice came on the line, he responded, “This is Mr. Holtz from room 2467. I’d like surf and turf for two in my room with all the trimmings, plus the Dom Perignon 1983. And a dark chocolate fondue for dessert. Extra strawberries, please. I’ll be arriving at the hotel in a half hour. Anytime after that will be fine.”
He disconnected the call. Emily was staring at him as if he’d grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead. “What?” he asked.
“Are you sure you’re not James Bond?”
Okay, then. That cut a little too close for comfort. He kept forgetting that beneath her playful innocence lay an intelligent and observant woman. He laughed lightly. “Thanks for the comparison. I’m afraid I’m just a regular guy.”
Emily wondered about that, though. Jagger danced like a god, handled a car like a Formula
