“That’s not a good idea.” As they moved away from the table and entered the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder, back at the ballroom.
“Why not?” Because if the way they’d danced together was any indication, they could be very, very good together.
She weaved past two women whispering on their way to the restroom, jewel-encrusted clutch purses in hand. “You’ll be bored.”
He stopped in front of the gilded elevator and jabbed the up button. “Let me make that call. I really can help you, you know.” He chose his words carefully, so she would think he meant the chefs, but so she would also realize he could get her more access overall. “If you’re with me, you will meet more people, make more connections for your entertaining business.”
She looked up at him through narrowed eyes. “Do you think everyone’s Machiavellian?”
“I know they are,” he answered without so much as blinking. “And knowing that makes life easier.”
“Troy?” She touched his silk scarf lightly, her blue eyes darkening with…sadness? “That’s no way to live your life.”
She swayed into him, and he wondered how the hell he’d gotten closer to her at the moment he’d been trying the least. Something about Hillary Wright had him off balance, as it had from the start.
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to head up to his penthouse suite and make love to her all night long. To tell her again and again how damn perfect she was. To show her she could trust he was one hundred percent into her. That he was a man who didn’t want to take anything from her. He just wanted to give.
The elevator slid open.
Colonel Salvatore stood alone inside, mirrors capturing his scowling reflection. He held Hillary’s little black clutch bag in one big fist. “I’ve been looking for the two of you.”
Four
Hillary’s high heels darn near grew roots into the plush carpet as she stared at Colonel Salvatore glowering at her from the elevator.
She couldn’t seem to make herself move forward and end this evening with Troy. An amazing evening. Unconventional, sure, but fun. He’d surprised her with an engaging mix of arrogance, humor, intelligence and perception.
Plus, he kissed like molten sin.
She forced her feet to drag forward without pitching on her face. Inside the elevator, she held out her hand for her thrift-store purse. “I must have left it at the auction. Thank you for keeping it safe.”
Silently, Troy stepped in after her, and she realized he must be curious about Salvatore even though he’d written off the man as her “uncle” just before he’d whisked her away to dance. She searched for the words to explain without saying things she shouldn’t.
“Troy, this is my friend, Colonel—”
“No need, Ms. Wright,” Salvatore interrupted. “Troy and I know each other well.”
Something dark in his voice, an undercurrent she didn’t comprehend, sent shivers down her spine. She looked from one man to the other. Troy slid in the key card to access the penthouse floor and the colonel kept his hands behind his back. She reached to press the button for her floor.
Salvatore shook his head as the doors slid closed. “We’re all going together. It’s time the three of us had a talk.”
Together?
Ding. Ding. Ding. The floors went past.
These two men more than just knew each other. Suddenly she realized that Troy was somehow tied into her reason for being here. Given his sketchy background could he be part of Barry’s mess, too? Her stomach plummeted even as the elevator rose.
Although she could swear she’d never seen him with her ex-boyfriend. So many questions and fears churned through her head, stirring up anger and a horrible out-of-control feeling. All her life, she’d tried to play by the rules. She’d worked hard to get ahead and somehow she kept screwing up.
The elevator dinged a final time, opening to a domed hallway with brass sconces and fresh flowers. A door loomed on either side, leading to two penthouses. Troy angled left, guiding them inside the three-room suite that sported a 1920s Great Gatsby opulence.
Any other time she would have enjoyed examining the tapestry upholsteries and dark polished woods—not to mention the breathtaking view from a wall of windows overlooking the Windy City. Skyscrapers and the lake blended together in a mix of modern prosperity with a layer of history. She loved cities, craved the bustle and excitement—the ultimate contrast to how she’d grown up. She rubbed the silver cow charm on her purse and turned to face the two men.
Colonel Salvatore paced with his hands behind his back, his heavy steps making fast tracks over the Persian carpets in the living area. Troy leaned lazily on the bar, flipping a crystal drink stirrer between his fingers.
The silence stretched until Hillary was ready to pull her hair out. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Fine.” Salvatore stopped abruptly. “I expected better from both of you. While you two were playing footsie on the balcony, our guy was slipping away. My sources say he left sometime this evening and is probably already on a private jet out of the country.”
Her legs folded and she sank onto the edge of a camel-backed sofa. “Our guy?”
Pivoting sharply, Salvatore pinned Troy with a laser glare. “You really didn’t tell her anything about your role here? Damn it, Donavan, why is it you chose now to follow the rules when you’ve rarely concerned yourself with keeping me happy in the past?” His sigh hissed between his teeth as he shifted his attention back to Hillary. “Troy Donavan’s in Chicago for the same reason you are. To help ID Barry Curtis’s associate.”
Of course he was.
She’d known the truth on some level, from the moment those elevator doors slid open and Colonel Salvatore said he was looking for both of them. Except, up to the last second, she’d been holding out hope—foolish hope—that she was wrong. Apparently her bad-boy radar was in full working order.
Troy knew about her reason for being here and hadn’t said a word to her. He’d made her believe he really wanted to spend time with her. She must have looked so ridiculous to him, talking about needing to see the chef. It had all been a game to him, playing along with her. Likely he’d been keeping this from her even on the airplane.
She forced her attention back to Salvatore’s words. For better or worse, she still had to get through this weekend in order to reclaim her life.
“The guy we’re after is insanely good at staying away from security cameras. It’s as if he has an inside scoop. But I would still like the two of you to review the recordings of tonight’s events, make use of Troy’s exceptional tech skills and see if you can find even a glimpse.”