The others looked at him oddly.
“We’ve been over this,” Steele said impatiently.
“Yeah, well, I just want to make sure.”
P.J. shrugged. “He may want to leave with me. Either way the result is the same. No one can predict what he’ll want or if he’ll even rise to the bait. But adapting to a changing situation is what we do and we’re damn good at it.”
“Hooyah,” Dolphin crowed. “I say we make her an honorary SEAL.”
Yeah, Cole knew he was being a total wuss about the whole thing. He just couldn’t get rid of the knot in his gut. He just wanted the night to be over with and for P.J. to be back where she belonged. Safe. With her team. Preferably where he could see her at all times.
“And that’s precisely why we have to stay on our guard,” Steele said. “We don’t know how it’s going to go down.”
He turned to P.J. “If you need out at any time, you know the word. Don’t hesitate to use it. At the party, Cole, Dolphin, Baker, Renshaw and I will be outside spread out over the perimeter. Once you leave, we’ll tag you and follow you back to the hotel. If anything changes, just make sure you’re talking about it so we know what’s going on.”
Donovan touched her arm. “I’ll be inside the entire time until you leave. Any problems, I’ll be watching.”
Then he turned to the others. “There’s a lot riding on this. Aside from the obvious need to rid the world of this scumbag and get those girls back to their homes, there are three governments offering a huge bounty if we deliver this asshole. Dead or alive, they don’t care. Resnick wants him alive because he wants information on his network. As much as our resident CIA contact has annoyed the shit out of me in recent times, I’m inclined to agree with him on this one. Brumley is just the supplier. There are a lot of sick sons of bitches who are buying these girls out there, and I want their asses too.”
Everyone nodded their agreement, their expressions grim.
“Then let’s go nail his ass to the wall,” P.J. said. “I can flirt with the devil himself if it helps us save those babies.”
Cole blew out his breath because she was right. If it were any other woman except P.J. he wouldn’t be so pissed over her going into this kind of situation. This is what they did. Whatever it took to accomplish the mission.
He had to stop thinking of her as the woman he’d slept with, the woman he’d laid claim to, even if she had no idea that in his mind she was his.
She was just a teammate tonight. One he had to back up and make sure they got out safe and unhurt. It was nothing they hadn’t done a hundred times before.
“Okay then, if there are no questions or concerns, let’s move out,” Steele said.
CHAPTER 8
THE residence wasn’t what P.J. had been expecting. It was right in the heart of the city with off-street parking. Four men were performing valet duties and quickly moving along the line of cars waiting.
Donovan had opted to park a block away so he’d have access to a vehicle if necessary, and he and P.J. walked toward the gate, where two burly looking security men had been posted to check invitations.
Interestingly enough, there were several women, all decked out like Christmas trees scattered along the sidewalk. A stunning blonde was approached by one of the men getting out of his car. They conversed a moment and then the woman smiled and looped her arm through the man’s and they walked to the gate where he flashed his invitation.
“Is that the European equivalent of a blind date?” P.J. murmured.
Donovan chuckled. “Working girls. Just more high-class. And a hell of a lot more expensive. They get wind of a party like tonight’s and they know they can score a sugar daddy for the evening.
“Is that what you are tonight?” she asked mischievously. “My sugar daddy?”
“Hell no, I’m dumping your ass as soon as we get inside, remember?”
They both fell silent when they approached the gate. Donovan extended the ornately inscribed invitation and they were motioned inside where another man directed Donovan to hold his hands above his head while he patted Donovan down.
He glanced a moment at P.J. but then motioned her on after deciding there weren’t a lot of options for her to be hiding a weapon.
It would make her feel a whole hell of a lot better if she had a handgun at least. Her rifle was an extension of herself. It was odd not to feel her hands around it when she was on a mission. But a pistol would do nicely for this occasion. Then maybe she wouldn’t be so nervous.
Some women packed purses. P.J. packed heat.
The stairway of stone steps leading up to the front door was long, and P.J. prayed she wouldn’t trip in her heels and break her neck before they ever got inside.
When they finally reached the top, she sighed in relief and then took a deep breath as they entered the house. They were directed through the foyer and then to where double doors were open wide.
Music and the din of conversation could be heard from within. Donovan didn’t hesitate, but walked in as if he owned the place, arrogant and confident. Surprisingly, he fit right in among the glitz and the glam of all the attendees.
P.J. stopped in her tracks when she took in the glittering ballroom. Donovan’s grip tightened on her hand as he tucked it underneath his arm.
“Don’t slow now,” he murmured. “Smile and look confident. Like you belong.”
Easy for him to say. Places like this struck terror in her heart. It was filled with beautiful people. Beautiful rich people.
There was a sea of them.
She nearly laughed as Donovan expertly maneuvered them through the crowd toward the bar. She was here to garner the attention of one specific man. Gorgeous women were stacked wall to wall in this place. And she was supposed to stand out?
Donovan took two flutes of champagne and handed one to P.J. As he lifted one to his lips, he murmured to her.
“Okay, see the man on your far left? No, don’t look. Gradually scan. He’s in a group. Can’t miss him. Tall blond. Laughs really loud. Likes to be the center of attention. Women surround him because they know he has money and power. They have no idea of his perversions or they’d run like hell.”
A shiver raced down her spine.
Great.
She casually scanned the room until she found the man Donovan was referring to. Definitely couldn’t miss him. The boom of his laughter was loud even over the rest of the two hundred plus people gathered.
“That’s Brumley, and he’s a man to avoid. Under no circumstances do you want to gain his notice. Nelson is across the room and is currently alone. He’s surveying the crowd and, if I had to guess, looking to score. See him standing by the window? Shorter, stocky guy. Muscled, but he’s not one of Brumley’s bodyguards or he’d be hanging a hell of a lot closer to Brumley. He’s Brumley’s damage control. He’s the guy Brumley sends to clean up his messes. Dark hair. Mustache. Fake tan.”
“Yeah, I see him,” she murmured, her lips barely moving.
“Now would be a very good time for you to make a pass by him. The ladies’ room is beyond him so it’s the perfect opportunity for you to walk by and it’s likely why he’s taken position there, because he knows he’ll see the majority of the women at some point on their way to the powder room. Go reapply some lipstick and make eye contact on your way by. Give him a once-over, just enough to make him think you might be interested, but be subtle and don’t tip your hand too early.”
“Why Van, you sound like such an expert,” she said mockingly. “However are you still single?”
“Smart-ass,” he muttered.
She took a deep breath. “Okay, here I go.”
“You’ll be fine,” he reassured. “We’ve all got your back.”
She clutched the beaded handbag, wishing desperately it was the stock of a loaded pistol, and walked as gracefully as she was capable across the room.
As soon as she approached she could feel Nelson’s gaze on her, all but peeling off her dress. She felt violated before she got within ten feet, just from the intensity of that lustful stare.
Even though Donovan had told her to make eye contact and to make that first move, her gut told her that obliviousness would serve her better. This was a guy who didn’t like not to be noticed. He was someone used to garnering attention. He probably had any number of women clinging to him at any given time if for nothing else than his connection to Brumley.
She unzipped her bag and pretended to focus her concentration on finding the lipstick as she drew even with Nelson. As soon as she passed, she relaxed but could still feel the weight of his stare boring into her back. He’d definitely noticed her.
It appeared as though Donovan’s intel was correct, because along with P.J. there had been two blondes and a stunning redhead walking in the direction of the ladies’ room, but Nelson had zeroed in on her.
She positioned herself in front of the mirror and forced herself to calm the jitters. She was a professional, with a hand as steady under pressure as they came. She always made her shot. No sweating. No panicking.
This girl stuff was more terrifying than an entire company of gun-wielding terrorists, though.
She made a show of touching up her lipstick, made sure it was nice and shiny, and then after she rubbed her lips together, she slid the tube back into her clutch and squared her shoulders, ready to exit.
To her utter surprise, she nearly ran headlong into Nelson as she left the ladies’ room. She stumbled back and her hand flew to the wall to regain her balance.
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