Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) (11 page)

Read Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) Online

Authors: Misty Evans,Adrienne Giordano

Another disgruntled noise erupted from his ex-partner’s throat. “Someone has to cover your damn ass.”

The president and vice-president were due to arrive in half an hour. There was probably no safer place in Washington tonight. Didn’t matter. Sweat beaded along Grey’s hairline. His temples pounded from clenching his teeth. The night was just getting started and he had his best asset on her way, but he wouldn’t relax until this was over. Until she was safe and sound again.

“Smoking Gun limo, three o’clock,” Monroe said.

Grey shifted the Burris and caught sight of the slick, black limo that blended in perfectly with all the other official cars arriving at the Panthera. The only difference between the escort service’s car and the government cars was the discreet Smoking Gun logo in the lower left corner of the back window.

The limo stopped at the designated spot. A protection agent, dressed like a bellman, held out a gloved hand and helped the women out of the car. One by one, beautiful young girls stepped out. Sydney would argue they were women, but in Grey’s eyes, they were like Molly, and too young, too innocent to be anything other than girls.

Over the next several seconds, six girls emerged. The bellman held out his hand once more and a long pause ensued.

“Your girl got cold feet?” Monroe asked.

He almost told Monroe that Sydney couldn’t stand being called a girl, but instead held his breath. Touched his earbud, connecting him to her in the only way he had.

“It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.” The earbud had an advanced microphone in it so she could hear him as well as speak to him. “Go inside, wait for me. I’ll come get you.”

He was already making up a fictitious story in his head to get past the front entrance guards when a slim leg adorned in a bright red shoe popped out of the limo’s open door. In his ear, Syd’s voice spoke barely above a whisper. “Relax, Fed Boy.”

She rose from the limo, a bright explosion of color against the black car as she accepted the bellman’s hand, flashed her megawatt smile at him and strutted up the carpeted steps. Passing the guards who held the door open, she once again spoke under her breath. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

Fun. Jesus. His stomach did backflips. The grip he had on the Burris tightened. “Remember the rules, Sydney.”

Monroe swung his gaze away from the sniper’s scope and arched a pretty-boy eyebrow. “Fuck. You didn’t give her Grey’s Rules of Engagement, did you?” He shook his head, returned his attention to the Panthera without waiting for an answer. “Is it any wonder women dump your Type-A ass? You don’t have to control everything. Especially women. The more you try to control them, the faster they’ll run away.”

Grey touched his earbud again, disconnecting the line from Sydney.
She’s not most women.
“This one’s different.”

Monroe narrowed his blue, all-knowing eyes and smiled. “Different is good.”

Maybe. “You’ll like her. She’s a lot like you.”

“Crazy, you mean? I like her already. She has to be crazy if she’s putting up with your sorry ass.” He returned his focus to the scope, made an adjustment. “Question is, is she crazy beautiful or crazy nuts?”

Both
. “She should be in the foyer getting patted down.”

Grey adjusted his own scope, bringing an area to the right of the door into view through the bay window. All the escorts were put through a staging area akin to airport security. Guards patted them down, checked their purses for weapons and then passed them on to more guards who guided them to the reception area.

“Changing the subject like always,” Monroe mocked. “You should get in touch with your emotions, G. Women like that.”

No, getting in touch with his emotions wasn’t the answer. He
was
in touch with them. Too in touch with them. If he didn’t pull back from the brink, everything he was working so hard to make happen would go down in a ball of fire.

To Monroe, he said, “Sydney is a tool to bring The Lion down. Nothing more, nothing less. I have her back, just like I had yours, and I won’t let anything happen to her, but I also won’t jeopardize her future or this mission by getting emotionally involved.”
I especially will not screw her life up because of a bunch of useless emotions.

“Grey?” Sydney whispered in his ear. Urgent. Scared he’d left her?

He tapped his earbud and opened his end of their tenuous link. “You know what to do, Sydney. Go to work.”

 

Syd stepped away from the foyer where some lughead had the privilege of patting her down with his sleezeball hands that lingered a little too long in the chest area. Any other day, she’d have flattened the pervert.

You’re a whore, Sydney.
Actually, that’s
Cindy,
her undercover name. These people thought Cindy was a whore and, in their evil minds, assumed they were allowed to treat the escorts this way. Their way of thinking only fueled her desire to watch them all go down.

She glanced back to Jennifer, the woman she’d met in the limo who would be her buddy tonight. Jennifer wore her long blonde hair in an elegant knot and her ivory silk dress fit her lean body to perfection. The woman appeared downright comfortable, smiling at the guards and even mildly flirting. Clearly she’d been doing this a while.

When Jennifer had completed the security check—a.k.a., groping session—she joined Sydney by the staircase of the exquisite Colonial Revival and gestured toward the room to their right. High ceilings, wood floors and original architectural features met Syd’s eyes everywhere. Stunning.

Jennifer held her hand out and the diamond bracelet adorning her wrist sparkled. “Let’s start in here. There are three large connecting rooms. Everyone mingles throughout. Toward the back is a huge library. Occasionally we’ll go in there if one of the men invites us. When they want to be alone with us, that’s where we go.”

“And what happens in there?”

Jennifer grabbed champagne from a passing waiter and lowered her voice. “That’s up to you. If they close the door, they want you naked. If the door stays open, they’re not ready.”

Jesus
. So much for Ian telling her she wouldn’t have to have sex with the men. She’d deal with that later, but Ian might be in for a beatdown.

Syd swallowed. Where was Fed Boy when she needed him? Still, something told her she shouldn’t go near that library tonight. Fed Boy didn’t want this rushed.

“Got it. And if I’m not ready to be naked?”

Jennifer’s mouth quirked. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Guess not.”

“Take a deep breath and talk to them. You look great and you’re the new kid. Trust me, they’ll come to you. Here we go. Exhibit A.”

Sydney glanced up and spotted a middle-aged man, tall with salt-and-pepper hair approaching.

“Senator Holden.” Jennifer beamed up at the senator. “How nice to see you. Allow me to introduce Cindy. Cindy, this is Senator Holden. He’s the chair for the Foreign Relations Committee.”

Time to work. Syd threw her shoulders back, took a silent breath and held her hand to the good senator. “A pleasure to meet you, Senator.”

“And you as well, Cindy. You ladies are lovely tonight. Cindy, I’m sure Jennifer has told you about the party, but please feel free to mingle with the guests. If you need assistance of any kind, be sure to find me.”

Gotta give the senator credit for keeping his gaze focused on their faces and not other parts of their anatomy. Maybe Fed Boy was right about this crew wanting to avoid scandals. She’d have to tread lightly.

“Thank you, Senator. I will do that.”

Jennifer led her into the second room. A ballroom, huge with crown molding, French doors and lots of rich old coots. Syd glanced around, searching for The Lion, but unless the photo Fed Boy had showed her was wildly outdated, the man hadn’t appeared yet. She’d wait.

Another group of three men signaled for them and Syd followed Jennifer’s lead. Two of the men were ancient, but the other could have been mid-twenties, with dark features and a cute round face. Middle-Eastern descent, Sydney guessed.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Jennifer said. “Allow me to introduce Cindy. Cindy, this is Congressman Daniel and one of his aides, John Parker. And this is Nabil Khourey.”

The Lion’s son. Now she was getting somewhere. Syd did her practiced meet and greet with the two coots and then shook hands with Nabil. His warm hand slid into hers and he gently pumped it, held on for one, two, three seconds and gave her a squeeze.

Sydney’s instincts encouraged a full tactical assault by giving his hand a squeeze back, but Fed Boy would stroke out.

She’d refrain.

For her partner’s sake.

“Go easy here, Syd,” Fed Boy said via the earpiece hidden under her hair.
Now the man was a mind reader?

She eased her hand from Nabil’s grip but continued to smile.

“You seem to be without a drink,” Lion cub said. Syd caught the faint whiff of cigarette smoke on him. “Perhaps you’ll join me at the bar?”

Perhaps I might.

A click sounded in her ear. Fed Boy ready to yap at her again. “Syd, get the drink and go to the far window on the northwest side of the room. I’ll be able to see you there.”

“Of course,” she said to Lion cub.

At the bar, she ordered a club soda with lime. No alcohol. She watched the bartender fill the glass, making sure nothing funny—i.e. mind altering—landed in her drink. Not one person in this room could be trusted.

“Keep your glass with you at all times,” Fed Boy said in her ear.

How the hell does he do that?

Syd wandered to the middle of the room where a small crowd of men huddled, their hungry, feral gazes on her and a frigid chill wrapped around her.

What am I doing?

“Move to the window so I can see you.” Her partner again.

Somehow, just hearing his voice bolstered her suddenly waning confidence. She turned her back to the feral men and focused on Nabil. “Would you mind if we moved to the side of the room?”

He nodded. “Certainly. Where would you like to go?”

“Could we go by the window? I’m a bit claustrophobic.”

Asking permission, rather than telling him couldn’t hurt. Grey had said the men like submissive women.

“We could journey outside.” He tapped his breast pocket. “I could use a smoke.”

Think fast, Syd.
“I’m afraid I have to stay in here where the action is. My boss will get upset if I leave and go outside.”

Nabil gave her a small smile. “Of course.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the window. The wrong window.
Dammit
. She’d have to deal with it.

“It’s okay,” Fed Boy said. “I can see you.”

Nabil leaned against the frame and held his drink in toast. “To meeting a lovely woman.”

Okay, charm pants, time to play
. “Thank you. I love your name. What does it mean?”

“It means noble.”

Oh, if that wasn’t an invitation she couldn’t resist. She dragged her gaze over him. “And are you?”

He flinched.

Too aggressive, Syd
. She’d have to back off. She grinned at him and waved the question away. “I’m sorry. My playful tongue gets me in trouble.”

He inched closer. “Not to worry. I rather enjoy an outspoken woman.”

He had no idea
.

“Nabil, there you are.”

The gruff voice came from behind her and Syd angled back to see a handsome man with just a bit of softness in his cheeks, walking toward them. His thinning gray hair was combed back, and his suit, obviously tailor-made, fit his beefy body in a way that screamed
power
.

The Lion.

Her heart slammed, but she focused on the features of his face. The man had a presence. For sure. Some would even say a sexy presence.

“Hello, Baba,” Nabil said.

Baba? Must mean father in Arabic.

The Lion stopped in front of Syd and held out his arms. “Who is this lovely creature?”

“This is Cindy. Cindy, my father, Ahmed Khourey.”

“Bingo,” Fed Boy whispered in her ear. “Doing great, Syd.”

Anticipating The Lion’s next move, Syd held out her hand. Within seconds, her much smaller hand disappeared inside his. The warmth pressed in on her as he squeezed once, then a second time.

No mistaking his I-will-do-you message. No doubt about it; The Lion had roared.

 

Chapter Ten

 

Contact. Exactly what he’d been waiting for. “Play it cool, Syd. Eyes downcast, don’t ask him questions. Draw him in, one step at a time.”

Monroe huffed beside Grey. “Shut up and let her do her thing, G.”

Let her do her thing. If only ‘her thing’ wasn’t full-on assault. Grey ignored Monroe. Listened to The Lion make small talk. His deep voice and heavy accent made Grey’s skin crawl.

“The Beast has arrived.” Monroe shifted his riflescope to take in Cadillac One, the president’s official car, pulling up with his entourage of Secret Service vehicles and manpower. This was no ceremony so there was little pomp to the arrival, just a lot of agents busting their humps to escort the president inside. The VP was already inside. The Jordan delegation had yet to show. Typical, Grey thought. Whose-Dick’s-Bigger was a game played by international politicians as well as the homegrown variety.

Inside the mansion, small talk ceased as the president was ushered in and announced to the group. Through his earbud, Grey heard clapping.

As the clapping died off, Sydney made a tiny squeak and the male voice he hated spoke in his ear. “Until the delegation from Jordan arrives, we are free to entertain ourselves. Perhaps, Cindy, we could speak more privately in the library.”

What the fuck? Grey’s stomach dropped. The Lion had to be all over Sydney’s personal space if his voice was coming through that loud and clear over the room’s chatter. That sound she’d made, high pitched and full of shock, was so out of character, Grey’s hand tightened instinctively on the scope.

He touched her. He fucking put his hand on her.

And probably her ass from the sound of that squeak.

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