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Captain's Call of Duty
The guy actually slapped Jim’s back. “So, Jim. Tell me more about you. What business are you in?”
“Businesses, plural,” Jim replied, shrugging. “A little of this and that. Ranching, oil, gold, precious commodities. Whatever makes me money and a lot of it.”
“Not risk-averse, are you?” their escort asked.
Jim laughed. “Caution is for the weak or uninformed.”
Another man joined them and the first one commented, “We were just talking about investments.”
The second man asked, “So why this particular fundraiser, Mr. Kelley? I understand you pulled a lot of strings to buy last-minute tickets.”
“I’m interested in McNaught. Tonight’s party gave me an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Support the Chandler campaign and finally meet the McNaught powers-that-be.”
“For what purpose, Mr. Kelley?” the second man asked a little too casually.
He chose to misunderstand the fellow. “Why, to get Chet Chandler reelected, of course. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”
“Of course,” both men replied, flashing him plastic smiles in unison. Not long after that, the men drifted away. Jim repeated the same conversation with only small variations, no less than a half dozen more times before dinner was served.
As the crowd abandoned its cocktails to be seated and eat undercooked scallops and overcooked filet mignon, he glanced down at Alex. “You’re being awfully quiet.”
“Observing.”
He asked through his smile, “See anything interesting?”
“Definitely. We’ll talk later.”
He leaned down and all but put his mouth on her ear. “That sounds perfect.”
She tilted her head toward him and murmured back without moving her lips, “Hidden cameras. Microphones or lip readers or both. Watch what you say.”
He replied, “Guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of the evening telling you how beautiful and sexy you are.” Her eyes widened in something approaching shock, and he added, “You’ve got to get over acting surprised. People will think something’s wrong with you if you don’t take the compliments as your due. Try to act at home in your skin, darling.”
“Easier said than done, snookums.”
He laughed. “I like this look on you. You should stick with it.”
“Have you seen who I work with?” she retorted.
He grinned ruefully at her. “For the record, they’d all love you like this.”
“For the record, I’d never hear the end of it if I showed up at the office looking like this.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asked half-seriously.
She caught the change of mood and considered. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.”
Dinner was innocent enough. They were seated with various high-power business people and just plain rich folks, and the McNaught representative at their table didn’t ply Jim with any probing questions. Chet Chandler gave a predictable and thoroughly boring speech. No wonder he needed McNaught’s money to get himself reelected. The guy was as inspiring as dirty dishwater.
After dessert, waiters rapidly disassembled the tables and hauled them out while a swing band set up on the stage, transforming the venue into a dance.
And that was when the sharks closed in on Alex. There were plenty of harrumphing wives keeping husbands anchored firmly to their sides, but a solid third of the crowd was single, or at least unattached tonight, males. And they had no compunction about moving in on the stunning brunette and flirting her up. It was enough to make a guy a little defensive and a lot territorial.
The first time a slick lawyer from a major international law firm tried to get her phone number, Jim was surprised when Alex flashed him a faintly alarmed look and leaned in closer to him. His arm just naturally went around her shoulder to hug her to his side. Belatedly, he told himself it was what he would have done had she been Lana and some creep moved in on her. But Lana had Deacon now, and the guy was a professional mercenary. He doubted anyone would be moving in on his little sister any time soon.
Meanwhile, Alex seemed genuinely rattled by the aggressive male attention coming her way. After a drunk CEO blatantly tried to proposition her, Alex fled to the restroom and hid there until Jim called in through the door, “He’s gone, Alex. You can come out now.”
She emerged sheepishly, her face a perfect match for her scarlet dress.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’ll live.”
“There’s one sure way to get rid of these jokers, you know,” he said.
“Do tell.”
“Dance with me.”
She smiled ruefully. “They’ll take one look at what a klutz I am and run screaming, huh?”
He placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the large dance floor. “No. They’ll figure out the lady’s taken.”
“But I’m not—”
He cut her off gently. “They only have to think you are.”
“And how do I accomplish that?” she demanded.
“Follow my lead.” He swept her into his arms and spun her around once. And then he pulled her against him, plastering her body against his and—
Whoa. The woman was screaming hot. Her curves fit against his in all the right places, and in her nervous tension, she all but vibrated against him. The sexual energy thrumming through her roared through him.
His mind was completely blown. This was Alex Mendez. Suddenly and completely without warning, she’d gone from one of the guys, kid sister and tomboy to all woman. He had no idea what to think about that, but he knew one thing for sure. She felt pretty damned good in his arms.
As if he deserved to derive one single ounce of happiness from being with her. He was a royal jerk. The Mendez family owed him nothing.
His arm must’ve tightened more than he’d intended, crushing her against him, because she gasped in surprise.
Startled, he glanced down at her.
Her lush lips had parted and her eyes widened. As he watched, mesmerized, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, moistening them to kiss-me-now-you-fool status.
Stop thinking like that! he shouted at himself inside his head.
“That’s better,” he ground out. “Now you look like a woman in love.”
Chapter 5
Alex froze in Jim’s arms. Ho. Lee. Crap. She wasn’t supposed to look in love with him! That was her secret, never, ever to be shared or revealed to him, or anyone else for that matter. Think about something else. The weather. The stock market. Starving children in Africa! It didn’t help. She was in love with him and dancing in his arms, darn it. How was she supposed to think about anything else?
She’d fantasized about a moment exactly like this for years. Her all gussied up and ravishingly beautiful, him all gussied up and incapable of taking his eyes or hands off her. A fancy ball, dim lights and just the two of them gazing at one another and dancing the night away.
He was leading her carefully around the dance floor and holding her as if he thought she’d fall on her face if he held her any less tightly. He dragged her through her momentary fantasy-induced paralysis.
“Hey,” she finally managed to respond with fake cheer, “I’m supposed to look besotted with you. It’s my job. Act like the girlfriend, right?”
He cleared his throat. “Uhh, right. Exactly.”
She shouldn’t have done it, but this was a once-in-a-life-time opportunity. She let her hand stray from his shoulder to the back of his neck, her fingertips playing with the short hairs there. In response, his right hand strayed from her waist down toward the higher curves of her buttocks. She lifted her face to breathe gently on his neck; he tilted his head down to murmur compliments against her temple. She gazed up into his eyes, and he stared back, his sapphire eyes more turbulent and thoughtful than she’d expected. His intense expression unnerved her, sending strange tingles jangling through her body.
He’s only pretending. This was a job for him, too. She was his cover so he could approach the McNaught people. Nothing more. But her body wasn’t paying the slightest attention to her brain. Her breathing insisted on running fast and shallow, and she continued to feel hot and trembly all over.
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