Chapter Fifteen

Andrea averted her eyes, pretending not to have seen the overtly sexual look tossed her way by one of the men who’d arrived early and alone at the benefit. Geez, how she hated this kind of affair.

Being there was even more loathsome when you were stuck with the job of hostess. As a guest, she could stay in the background, lurk in the shadows, and pretend she was somewhere else. If an annoying man leered at her, she could freeze him out with an angry stare. The hostess at this kind of function had no freedom of movement and no choice but to overlook rudeness. Having to stay in the spotlight and politely receive guests was worse than a night in a dungeon with your body stretched on a rack.

She shook hands with couple after couple, smiling politely, making small talk, thanking them for coming and supporting a good cause. All the while, her stomach did a series of somersaults. She told herself she was doing fine; she wouldn’t make a social gaffe and embarrass Karli or Dillon. But her internal pep talk didn’t make her task more enjoyable or the clock tick any faster. The night had just begun. Would it ever end?

The room was soon crowded. Candlelight reflected off the pounds of diamonds, rubies, and other precious gems adorning the women’s earlobes and necks. Silk whispered as the women moved. The crystal stemware glittered in the hands of men wearing rings and watches that, taken together, could probably finance a medium-sized African nation for a minimum of two or three years.

During the first lull in her receiving line duties, Andrea recalled the underlying reason for her attendance and stole a glance around, looking for Mitch. She found him off to the side of the room, looking fabulous in his tux and doing anything but blending into the background. He was easily the most attractive man in the room. A man who looked as handsome as he did was always the subject of covert glances from all the women at an event. Wherever he moved, eyes would be following and the owners would be wishing they could catch his attention. He looked strong, reliable, and trustworthy. She smiled at a strange thought. He had the look movie actors strived for when they were lucky enough to land a role playing a true hero. Only in his case, the look came naturally.

She hoped the feminine attention wasn’t interfering with his attention to his job and wished he’d allowed her to wear an earbud and mic like him, Kenyon, and Gregory. Were they exchanging warnings or analyzing the guests? Had they spotted anyone suspicious?

A tall black man with a full beard and gleaming white teeth came through the door with an air of royalty. Dillon turned to her and whispered that the new arrival was the heir to a rum fortune but reputed to be involved in the illegal drug trade.

The man walked to Dillon, greeted him like an old friend, shaking his hand vigorously, and then turned to Andrea. “And this must be the little sister I’ve heard so much about. I’m dazzled, Ms. Stone.”

She smiled and offered her hand. “Thank you, Mr.…”

Dillon started to make the introductions, but the man spoke over him. “Reginald Watson. Please call me Reg, all my friends do. And I’ll call you Karli.”

He didn’t release her hand as quickly as she would have liked, but she resisted the urge to tug it away and kept the smile plastered on her face. “Thank you for coming, Reg. The Virgin Islands Children’s Charity is a worthy cause, and we hope to raise enough money tonight to finance the construction of a new computer annex at the home. I hope you’ll be generous, and I hope you’ll enjoy your evening.”

He shifted his weight, slipped an arm around her waist, and pulled, intent on taking her with him as he stepped away from the door. “I will enjoy my evening, if you’ll stay by my side.”

For a nanosecond she wondered how to get rid of him gracefully. But then his hand slipped slightly higher on her rib cage, and her reflexes overcame the caution of her good manners. She dug in her feet and countered the pressure of his arm, refusing to move.

Between clenched teeth and a tight smile, she hissed, “If you have anything resembling a brain in your repulsive head, you’ll remove your arm before I break it off.”

He froze. Recovering quickly, he chuckled.

Andrea ignored the false response and watched his body language as he drew back and narrowed his eyes to angry black slits. His expression was thunderous and said he usually got whatever woman he wanted.

“I adore a woman with spirit. Perhaps we can connect when your hostess duties conclude.”

She let her tone emphatically convey that he might get other women, but he was not getting her. “I don’t adore pushy men.”

Mitch appeared at Andrea’s side. Shouldering his way between them, he stabbed Reg with a threatening look and suggested in a tone that brooked no argument, “Why don’t you order yourself a cocktail, sir. The bar is open.”

The man looked from Andrea to Mitch and back again. A half snarl curled his lips. Several people in the area stilled and fell silent, then quickly shuffled a few steps farther away. The air was suddenly fraught with tension.

Reg glared at Mitch for a second. Mitch didn’t move or blink.

Reg still had storm clouds sparking in his eyes, but he drew himself up dagger straight, turned, and swaggered down the hallway toward the main banquet room.

Mitch and Dillon asked at the same time, “Are you okay?”

“A little pissed. But he was lucky. He might have thought I was joking, but if he hadn’t let go of me in another five seconds, I seriously would have snapped that creep’s arm.”

Mitch pitched his voice low. “I’m your partner, and I’ve got your back. You’re not supposed to go rogue and try to handle things yourself.” He gave her an oblique look. “Patience, remember? You have to give the team time to get a situation under control before you rush in with a gun drawn or fists flying.”

She nodded. “Patience, right, got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another couple came through the door, putting an abrupt halt to the conversation. Andrea turned to greet them. As she pasted on an appropriate smile, she resolved to try to practice some degree of patience in the future. Mitch was right. She did have a tendency to be impulsive, and acting before she thought things through usually landed her in trouble.

…

Mitch faded back into the room, but stayed within a couple yards of Andrea and super aware of his surroundings. He wanted to simply stand and stare at her, watch the way her lips turned up in an impish smile when she thought no one was looking, watch the grace with which she extended her gloved hand to greet new arrivals, watch her bare shoulders glow in the golden light of the chandeliers. She’d explained she wanted to wear gloves because she didn’t believe her hands were as soft as Karli’s. But her skin looked silky and warm, and he doubted that it would feel anything but smooth under his fingers. His fingertips twitched. Touching her was what he’d been trying not to think about.

When he’d gone to her aid, he’d breathed in the waft of her perfume. The scent still clung to his clothing, filling his lungs and keeping him distracted.

But distraction was dangerous. He had to remain sharp if he was going to keep her safe. His alertness was vital to her survival.

He shifted his focus to the people in the room, studying faces and body language. He’d watched every arrival for the telltale bulge of a shoulder holster or the slight pulling of a jacket at the waist that would hint at a weapon in a waistband. None of the men appeared to be carrying. Not even Reg Watson.

Mitch pictured Reg touching Andrea, and a slow burn started in his stomach. If that lowlife hadn’t taken his filthy hands off her…

He realized his hands were balled into fists and forced himself to cool off. Anger was an unprofessional emotion. It blinded people to their surroundings. And he had to stay vigilant. Even though he hadn’t seen any overt weapons, appearances were often deceiving, and he had no illusions. If someone wanted to bring in a gun, it would be well concealed. A knife would be even harder to detect.

He couldn’t let sexual thoughts or the desire to ogle Andrea keep him from doing his job.

He saw a man focus on her intently. But a moment later, a middle-aged woman walked up next to him, slipped her arm through his, then stood on tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. The man gave the woman a guilty smile, and Mitch guessed he’d been caught in the midst of a fantasy.

Poor guy, he wasn’t the only man here tonight who was wishing Andrea, in the persona of Karli, were his and his alone.

…

As soon as her greeter’s duties were concluded, Andrea accepted a flute of champagne from a waiter, wandered away from the main crowd, and tried to blend into the woodwork. She wished she could just hang out with Mitch, a man who seemed to be a gentleman and with whom she felt comfortable. Her cheeks already ached from the effort to keep smiling, and the night was still young.

She nodded and made hollow, but polite, conversation with several people as she made her way to the buffet. The food looked fabulous, especially the Angus beef. She glanced at it longingly. When this mission was over, she was heading for the best steak house on the island and ordering a huge prime rib, rare.

She took a small plate, surveyed her choices, and made a few selections. She eyed the off-limits items while nibbling on a cheese cube and a couple fancy crackers. Her hunger still unsatisfied, she sampled some fresh pineapple and a perfect ball of melon. The mushrooms to her right looked luscious, but they had crabmeat stuffing and she’d had to give them, the tuna tartare, and the coconut shrimp a pass. Karli’s vegetarianism might apply to seafood as well as meat, and she could blow her cover if the wrong person saw her eating something taboo. Unfortunately, the forbidden items were the most tempting, and she felt like a kid with no money salivating outside a candy store window.

The waiters circulated with flutes of bubbling champagne held high on polished silver trays. The bar was ringed with hearty drinkers, and groups of Saint Thomas’s and Saint John’s most elite residents and seasonal guests wandered to and fro near the buffet. Occasional laughter punctuated the steady ring and rumble of chattering voices. Andrea imagined the topics: bragging, complaining, gossip, false compliments, and outright lies. Most of the people attending were probably here to see and be seen by the right people. Most were intent on networking or trying to appear important. Fortunately, big donations were often made to impress as well as to support a good cause. The tally of donations climbed steadily, meaning the party was a success. She imagined Karli’s pride would have been injured if the party had fallen flat.

She hoped the success meant that if she disappeared for a while, no one would notice. Except maybe Mitch, but at the moment, he was nowhere in sight.

Andrea worked her way through the throng of people and moved unobtrusively toward a side corridor. After glancing over her shoulder to be sure no one was looking, she slipped up the spiral staircase to the second-floor balcony. The balcony was dark. Keeping the black side of her dress angled toward the room below, she faded into the shadows and relaxed. Wide windows looked out over the island and the harbor below. The twinkling lights in the harbor and the moonlight sparkling on the ocean to the south made the view look magical. She took a deep breath, leaned against the back wall, and sipped her champagne. So far, so good.

A few minutes later, footfalls sounded on the steps. A frisson of fear swept down her spine. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the best time to be standing in the dark alone.