She wanted Ben. She needed Ben. But when she opened her mouth to tell Craig to go and get him, only a soft moan escaped. And somewhere in the back of her fading thoughts she knew that when Ben did find her he was going to give her hell for not staying put.

Chapter Nine

AS Ben stood off to the side and kept an eye on Christine up at the podium during her presentation, he instinctively knew that something was wrong. She'd explained how nervous she was about public speaking, but she wasn't showing the typical signs of anxiety. Rather, she seemed increasingly out of sorts and confused, as if she couldn't think clearly even though she had an outline right in front of her.

He watched her take another drink of her water, emptying the glass of the clear liquid, and then to finish her spiel on the silent auction. Her breathing grew labored, and a frown furrowed her brow as she stared out at the crowd with a dazed look on her face. Abruptly, she finished her speech and headed down the platform away from him.

He called out her name, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Son of a bitch," Ben bit out furiously and moved fast, but as the thick crowd around him started to separate and head in different directions, men and women inadvertently cut him off in his attempt to get to Christine. It was like swimming upstream through a sea of mud, and it was all he could do not to push and shove his way through the mass of people getting in his way.

Ben's gaze never left Christine as a man he realized was Craig ushered her toward the exit. He swore again, and once they disappeared through the double doors and Ben could no longer see them, a swift kick of adrenaline surged through his entire body. As he ran out of the ballroom, he resisted the urge to grab the semiautomatic he'd holstered beneath his jacket, because he knew that would cause a huge scene and chaos, and until he saw an actual threat he had to keep his weapon secured.

He burst through the main doors of the hotel that led outside, and he immediately caught sight of Craig guiding a wobbling-on-her-high-heels Christine along a path leading around to the far side of the building-where it was dark and very secluded.

Ben reached Craig before the other man had a chance to realize he was even nearby. He stepped in front of him and Christine, bringing them both to a stop. Craig looked startled by his sudden appearance, while Christine appeared bewildered and confused.

Instantly, Ben gently took Christine's arm and pulled her away from Craig. Once he had her safely by his side, the fury that had been building within Ben exploded in a blast of outrage. "Stay the fuck away from her, Crosby!"

"What the hell, man!" Craig retorted just as angrily. "She was obviously dizzy and sick, and I was just taking her to the courtyard right over there so she could sit down and get some fresh air!" He waved toward an area sectioned off by plants and trees, with benches to sit on.

Ben clenched his jaw. While Craig's story was completely plausible and most likely true, Ben wasn't about to back down from his stance. "Stay away from her," he said, enunciating each word.

Craig narrowed his gaze. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm getting damn tired of your continual harassment."

Before Ben could respond with a scathing remark, Christine fell against his chest, and he caught her around the waist to help keep her upright. She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and a semblance of a smile on her lips.

"Ben," she sighed, drawing out his name on a slur of sound.

It was as though she was drunk, yet Ben knew for a fact that she'd only had one cocktail, and that had been before dinner. The only other explanation for her uncharacteristic behavior was that she'd been drugged somehow. Had someone put something in her food or her soda at their table? And what about the water at the podium? It could have easily been tampered with before she'd arrived to make her speech.

Ben was beginning to suspect the latter, and he automatically glared at Craig. "What did you do to her?"

Craig visibly bristled. "I didn't do a damn thing to her, and I don't appreciate your accusations!"

He didn't give a shit what Craig did or didn't like. But ultimately, Ben didn't have proof of anything, let alone that Crosby was responsible for Christine's current state. Or Leanne, who was easily Ben's second suspect.

However, with over two hundred people attending the charity event, there was no way to nail any one person. Not only were there supporters of Nathan Delacroix at the party, but undoubtedly there were others who might hold a grudge against the man for his political views. Someone angry enough to issue threats against Delacroix to drop out of the race for governor, and bold enough to slip something to Christine to let Nathan know just how serious they were about his daughter's safety.

The possibility made Ben feel physically ill.

"Ben!" a deep male voice called out.

Ben glanced toward the hotel entrance to see Matthew Carlton, the man that he and Christine had met through Scott Wilde just before her speech. The other man was striding toward the three of them, his expression speculative.

"I noticed that Christine wasn't doing so well up at the podium," Matthew said as he came up to them. "Is she okay?"

She was still leaning heavily against Ben, her face buried in the crook of his neck. "I don't know," he admitted.

Christine shivered against him and burrowed closer, her arms sliding around his waist beneath his jacket. "It's cold and you're so warm," she whispered languidly.

Matthew pushed his hands into his pants pockets, his concerned gaze still on Christine. "Would you like me to take a look at her and make sure she's all right?"

Nothing about this situation felt good, but remembering that Matthew Carlton was some kind of doctor, not to mention a friend of Scott's, Ben chose to trust the other man. "That would be great. Let's get her back inside so she can sit down."

They started back toward the hotel entrance, and when Craig followed, Ben shot him a dark look. "I'll handle this," he said, leaving no doubt in Crosby's mind that he needed to get lost. "And like I said before, stay away from her."

Craig gave him a smug glance. "We'll see what Christine says about that."

Ben's temper spiked to an all-time high. If he didn't have his hands full trying to support Christine as they entered the hotel lobby, he would have beat the shit out of the self-righteous bastard right then and there.

Being a somewhat smart man, Craig didn't push the issue any further, and while Ben and Matthew led Christine toward a vacant group of couches and chairs set up in the lobby. Crosby veered toward the ballroom to return to the charity gala.

After gently maneuvering Christine so that she was sitting in the center of the couch, Ben removed his tuxedo jacket and settled it over Christine's bare shoulders. He knelt in front of her while Matthew sat to her right on the couch and immediately grabbed her wrist to check her pulse and heart rate. Christine's head fell forward drowsily, and Ben lifted her chin to try to keep her awake.

"Open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart," he cajoled in a low, soothing voice.

He watched her struggle to lift her lashes, and when she finally managed the feat and saw him, she smiled slow and sweet. "Ben." she murmured on a wisp of breath. "I'm soooo tired and sleepy."

He cupped her face in his hands. "I know you are, honey, but I need you to stay awake, okay?"

She licked her lips and tried to nod. "Mmmm-hmmm."

While Ben proceeded to talk to Christine to keep her alert, Matthew continued his examination. He looked into her eyes and checked her pupils and vision, then went on to monitor her breathing. He even pressed his ear to her chest so he could listen to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Matthew asked how much she'd had to drink, if she was on any type of medication, or had recently taken any kind of drugs.

The last question Ben couldn't answer, and when Matthew repeated the inquiry to Christine, she responded with an indignant, but sluggish, "I don't do drugs!"

Christine's spirited reply despite her lethargic condition almost made Ben smile. Instead, he glanced back at Matthew and decided to level with him on the situation.

"Look, I've been hired by Christine's father as her bodyguard, and I'd really prefer not to have to take her to the ER and have her exposed to the public for hours there, if it can be helped."

Ben could just imagine the field day reporters would have with that kind of story. Undoubtedly, someone in Lambert's camp would turn it into some kind of drug scandal against Nathan's daughter, and ultimately, smear Delacroix's great reputation and his campaign.

"I don't have any proof, but judging by what happened up at the podium, and Christine's behavior now, I think someone slipped her something," Ben said, giving Matthew his gut feeling on what might have transpired. "I've never seen her act like this before."

Matthew checked her pulse rate again. "From what I see, she does exhibit many of the symptoms of ingesting Rohypnol," he said, referring to the street drug roofie. "Her motor skills are definitely impaired, and she's responding as if she's had a lot more to drink than she did. The good thing is, she only consumed one cocktail hours ago, so that does reduce the effects of the drug."

Ben nodded, grateful for that much, at least. "What do I need to do?"

"Take her home and watch her throughout the night to make sure there isn't any change in her breathing or any extreme drop in her pulse rate," Matthew instructed. "Her reaction is something she's just going to have to sleep off, and most likely she won't remember any of this in the morning."