in the very atmosphere of her happy but fragile world.
She had every right to be ecstatic. After half a lifetime of hoping and praying, she finally had her son back, alive and growing stronger every day. Jim scarcely reflected even a hint of the Seth persona that had ravaged his life from the age of seven until just one year ago. Great strides had been made with therapy and the love of the woman who had somehow managed to touch his battered heart.
Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes when she thought of all that Tasha had done to save Jim, to bring back the man, as well as the boy, who had barely managed to survive behind the ugly mask of a killer named Seth. Victoria smiled and blinked the tears away. Jim and Tasha had set a date for their wedding. All that Victoria had hoped for was finally coming to fruition.
“My dear, this is no place for the guest of honor to be hiding out.”
Victoria turned at the sound of the familiar male voice belonging to the man she loved. He was the other long-awaited wish come true in her hard-won battle for happiness. The man she had loved and admired from afar for so very long was now her husband. Emotion tightened her throat. Though a part of her would always love James Colby, the father of her son, her heart now belonged fully to this man…to Lucas Camp.
She smiled, gloried in simply admiring his handsome, however rugged, face for a few seconds before she answered. “I just needed a moment to myself.”
The heart-stopping smile that he reserved just for her spread across her husband’s face. “This is your night, Victoria. You deserve this honor and more. Come.” He folded her arm around his. “Let’s have another toast to the Woman of the Year.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “To my lovely wife.”
Victoria allowed Lucas to lead her back into the midst of the festivities. She smiled, offered the expected gestures and comments with all the grace required of a woman in her position, but part of her could not let go of the nagging instinct that everything was about to change.
CHAPTER TWO
THOUGH DANIEL MARKS had had no aspirations about going out tonight, he was glad the rain had stopped. He watched the flow of pedestrians as they ventured from the shops and restaurants on the Magnificent Mile from his vantage point in a luxurious suite on one of the uppermost floors of the historic Allerton Crowne Plaza. He’d never been big on hotels, but he had to admit that even he was impressed by the stately European decor of this one. But what he found most appealing was the location. Close to everything that was anything in the city of Chicago, and one place in particular—the Colby Agency.
Daniel had made this journey to the Gold Coast district of the Windy City by special invitation. After leaving his military career six months ago, he had taken some time to consider what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Then he’d floated résumés to a few agencies of interest to see what sort of offers he might attract. Victoria Colby-Camp, the esteemed head of the Colby Agency, had invited him to come to her fair city and spend a week or two getting to know the area—at her expense, no less.
He was scheduled to meet with her on Friday. It was Monday night, and he’d been here two days already. Time enough to get the general lay of the land, and, with one of the city’s top real estate agents at his beck and call, to consider possible areas where he might want to live if he accepted a coveted position with the Colby Agency.
Daniel scrubbed a hand over his jaw and laughed at himself. He hadn’t been made an offer yet. Maybe he was assuming too much. He’d only been invited to meet with the venerable head of the agency. But he understood from her come-get-to-know-us offer that she was more than a little interested. He didn’t find that part surprising, since the Federal Bureau of Investigation and Homeland Security had been interested, as well.
Hell, he wasn’t oblivious to what he had to offer. He’d spent ten years in the army as a military strategist and left with the rank of major, knowing he could have been promoted to lieutenant colonel immediately if he’d opted to continue in service. Like most everything else in his life, he’d been on the fast track from the day he’d entered Officer Candidate School.
But he had grown weary of the bureaucracy. Of the political head games that only the military could play with such precision and impact. Not that he’d left the army with a bad taste in his mouth, not at all. Daniel, without question, maintained the deepest respect and admiration for those serving their country in any and all capacities. He simply felt as if he’d done all he could in that world. His momentum had hit a ceiling, and he was going nowhere fast, with more frustration than he cared to tolerate. A mere promotion in rank wasn’t enough. He needed more…something where he could reach his fullest potential without all the political runarounds.
That was the reason he was here in Chicago, rather than in D.C. talking to bigwigs at the Bureau or Homeland Security. With any government agency, he was bound to run into the same thing that had prompted him to move beyond the military. He felt certain that the only way to escape all the bureaucratic crap was to go into the private sector.
So here he was, lounging in a swanky hotel and pondering what the future might hold for a thirty-two-year-old man who’d spent every day of his life since college proudly wearing the prestigious uniform representing the American Armed Forces.
He ran his fingers through his regulation short hair. He couldn’t see that changing. It was force of habit. Every other week, he got a haircut. Nor were the physical rigors of his former career going to be left by the wayside. He intended to keep up the physical training for his general well-being, as well as to make him a better investigator—wherever he went to work. Keeping in shape served a dual purpose.
He turned away from the window and strode across to the minibar. The only thing he’d had any trouble getting used to was wearing civvies, civilian clothes. Twisting off the cap of a bottle of beer, he peered down at his stonewashed jeans and cotton cargo shirt. It wasn’t any hardship, really; it just took a little more planning. He’d worn the same assortment of uniforms for ten years; he’d never had to worry if anything matched or looked right together; army regulation had dictated his wardrobe, from the cap on his head to the shoes on his feet.
After a long draw from his beer, he dropped onto the foot of the bed and clicked on the local news. Might as well learn the bad with the good. If offered a position with the Colby Agency, he anticipated no reason why he would not be readily accepting. So far, he liked the city. Couldn’t see any problems with fitting in.
A frown nudged its way across his brow and he wondered, if he stayed here, would he finally move on to the next logical level of his life. His military career had proved too unpredictable for putting down any sort of permanent roots. He’d been involved in several short-term relationships, but nothing even remotely permanent or serious. His savings were quite adequate—he could afford to buy a home and finally put down those kinds of roots. Not that he’d actually known that sort of lifestyle even before joining the military. He was the quintessential military brat, moving from post to post his entire life, with the exception of the four years he’d spent at Columbia, studying political science with an emphasis on prelaw. Rather than going on to law school, he’d opted for the military, just like his father. He’d felt the need to do his duty. He did not regret that decision now.
His own parents had retired to Florida five years ago. Needless to say, his father was not happy about Daniel’s decision to return to civilian life, but he was man enough to restrain himself on the issue. Daniel’s mother simply wanted her one and only son—only offspring, for that matter—to be happy. She wanted grandchildren.
Daniel didn’t know if he was ready to do the whole wife-and-kids thing just yet, but he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the need to find something
