Secure Desire Page 6

  Wilds added, “Asshole.”

  Quinn continued, “Monique Lillie, married to Chase’s brother, Kieran. Fashion model.” The couples introduced themselves all around.

  Robert Bynum reached for Cassie’s hand. “What a pretty little thing you are, Miss Ellis. Good to see you again.”

  Betty, the senator’s wife, whispered under her breath, “You better hope she missed that. You met her once. Do you want her to remember that?”

  Betty smiled. “Robby will be so sorry he missed you, Cassiopeia. It is lovely to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Senator and Mrs. Bynum. I haven’t seen Robby since the party at your house after he graduated. Give him my best.”

  Senator Bynum retained her hand in a firm grip. “You were at the house with your fiancé. Now I remember. You were engaged to …” He stopped himself, looking at Adrienne Whitman’s scowling face. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Sebastian, tonight is a second chance to impress your memory on Ms. Ellis. She is one mighty fine woman.”

  Sebastian acknowledged his boss. “Yes, sir, she is, Senator.” When he placed his arm across the back of her chair, goosebumps broke out across her back and down her arms.

  Bradford smiled at her. “Well, sugar, you look as radiant as ever. Adrienne, look at Cassiopeia. She’s still so beautiful,” the older man gushed.

  The nauseating older woman grasped Cassie’s hand, hatred filling her beady winter-gray eyes. Her fingers felt like a dead fish’s scales in Cassie’s palm. Cassie firmed her jaw. She never liked Adrienne Whitman, and anyone in their sightline knew Adrienne Whitman did not like her.

  “Well, well. Still single, I see.” She lifted Cassie’s left hand for all at the table.

  “Sometimes things happen for the best,” Cassie said.

  “Well, well, Modine. Are we gonna have a WWF event?” Wilds taunted. She chewed her cheek, unable to respond.

  Garret stood, unmoving, and gazed at her with undisguised longing. “Good to see you, Cass. It’s been a while, huh?”

  “Six years.” Her tone was formal.

  When he reached to caress her cheek, she tossed her head back to avoid his touch. The redheaded vixen next to him shoved him. “Uh, Cass, this is Cheyenne, my wife. Cheyenne, this is Cassie. She is a dear old friend.”

  Cassie extended her hand, but Cheyenne did not budge. If her expression were a weapon, Cassie would be lifeless on the floor. She broke eye contact, refusing to let anyone be a distraction. “Pleased to meet you, Cheyenne.”

  “Oh my. Tag team?” Wilds asked.

  “Knock it off, Greg,” Preston said.

  Ian nodded. “Pleasure to see you again.” Cassie felt support in his eyes.

  Sebastian growled under his breath, “Bet she remembers meeting him,” loud enough for her to hear.

  The voice in Cassie’s ear buzzed. “Damn it. If Chase blows this… or more like…—did you blow him? Though I have to give you credit, this cover is deep as hell. We can figure how deep later, Princess.” Wilds sounded like he was enjoying himself. A spark of fear danced across her eyes.

  Judge Marshall looked at Cassie. “Where did you meet Cassiopeia, Mr. Chase?” She maintained her poise, waiting for Ian to speak. Here it comes. The night will be over before it starts.

  “I had the lovely fortune of touring the Mellon Collection at the National Gallery. She was able to grant me a behind-the-scenes view of Titian’s Venus with a Mirror.”

  Judge Marshall grinned. “Glorious painting. You work at the Gallery, my dear?”

  “I was there as a fellow while I worked on my Ph.D.” Relief tickled her eyes. Sebastian glowered.

  “She was a delightful guide. I’m fond of Titian's works. I am still angry about missing out on the purchase of the Madonna and Child with Saints Luke and Catherine of Alexandria in 2011.” Ian took neutral ground.

  Judge Marshall said, “Hmm, that went in a private sale before the auction. I heard Christie’s was angry about the lost commission. It was all cutthroat.”

  She exhaled, unaware of how long she had held her breath. Ian rescued her again. Thank you, Ian.

  Sebastian leered at her. “Where do you work now?”

  “I’m a private art appraisal consultant.”

  “Well, young lady, please leave me your card. I’m always interested in a new piece for my collection,” Judge Marshall said. Claudia Marshall kicked her husband’s shin.

  “Alex, you remember Cassiopeia found us the beautiful Goldthwaite, Young Woman in Pink,” Bradford said. The senior Whitman couldn’t help stoking the fire.

  Ian watched as the tension around the table increased. Though she appeared composed, Cassie’s pupillary reactions showed how much the presence of the Whitmans blindsided her. A quick scan of the room answered any further questions as to why. Greg Wilds stood with another tuxedo-clad man by the bar, a huge smirk on his face.

  Ian frowned. You bastard. You set her up.

  She retained her implacable expression.

  Chapter Seven

  The ballroom was decorated lavishly. Candles in ornate floral-covered candelabras reflected off the ceiling. Purple and white orchids floating in crystal bowls of colored water adorned almost every free surface, their delicate fragrance infusing the room. Complementing the gilded chairs were the crisp white linen tablecloths and cut Waterford wine glasses with silver Tiffany place settings adorning every table. A fifteen-piece band played softly in the background. In the iridescent shadows of light, the dance floor glittered like black diamonds.

  With most of the guests seated, Cassie did a mental repeat survey of the gold, yellow, and taupe Corcoran Ballroom and the adjacent Corcoran Foyer. Each exit appeared to be covered by in-house security. Couples in too expensive and some very tacky ballgowns and tuxedos were seated at seventy tables of twelve each.

  If these people just donated the cost of the tickets plus the price of their ballgowns, we wouldn't need this whole dog and pony show. In addition to house security, Cassie sorted through the other agencies in attendance: FBI, Secret Service for the four declared candidates, and various contract security. The room was filled with money and power.

  She wondered if all the intelligence was accurate. Would an attempt be made on the senator's life tonight in such a well-staffed room?

  As if Wilds could read her mind, his voice suddenly sounded in her ear. "Stay alert, Cassie. Remember, two rooms, lots of staff." Unfortunately, he did not finish there. "Wouldn't want to miss the action at your table either. Watching a bitch fight gets me hot and bothered."

  Cassie stifled her frown. She turned her head like a fairytale princess in his direction and batted her eyes at him. "Have fun, Princess." He blew her a kiss. "With all that panting, wonder if you're thawing out with all the attention. You'll be all relaxed for me when the night is over."

  Cassie coughed. "Excuse me, please."

  "Covering the table." She saw Cruz moving a bit closer.

  "Settle down, eyes alert," Galloway warned.

  Cassie walked with purpose to the ladies' room. Managing to avoid anyone she knew, she imagined cracking a bottle of red wine over Wilds' head. A silly grin broke out across her face. "Mr. Wilds, are you aware this channel is recorded? Let this be a formal request to you and all others on this feed to cease and desist any commentary not related to the operation."

  The restroom anteroom was decorated with gilded mirrors. She was greeted by the smells of foul perfume and Aqua Net. Women jockeyed for mirror space, repairing their perfect makeup. Leaning on the gold faucets, she peered at her reflection. Sebastian's touch set off the same reaction she had in the bookstore. The Whitmans and Ian. Wilds. Four more hours. In one, two, three, out. She set her chin and ground her teeth.

  When Cassie washed her hands, the attendant handed her an engraved towel. "Too pretty a lady to be so sad." The older woman cocked her head.

  "Thank you." She left a generous tip.

  Agent Brice Walton was standing at the restroom door upon her exit. "We
lost your signal. The room is a dead spot. What were you saying to Wilds? We lost you, mid-transmission?"

  "Nothing. I'll make sure I have coverage if I head in," Cassie said. Damn.

  "Brice, give me one more moment." She stepped back into the restroom and dialed Sophie." Leaving a message, she said, "Alright, you win. Instead of the email, I'm reporting him tonight." Then she squared her shoulders and exited.

  Brice walked with her to the ballroom doorway. Before she entered, he placed a confining hand on her elbow and cupped her earbud with his palm. "Cassie don't let him distract you. It's clear to me there is more going on than his bad behavior during Tuesday's brief. When this is done, I'll go with you to report him. Don't let him get away with this."

  Cassie formed a fake smile. "Thank you for caring. I promise."

  Brice watched her walk away. "Ladies' bathroom and corridor outside the Sequoia Room is a dead zone. Will make the same assumption for men's restroom. Coverage required."

  "Roger that," Wilds responded.

  Ian tried to relax. The adrenaline rush of the triumphant return of Susie to her parents and the impending safe return of his brother and the team was ebbing. The unexpected presence of Cassie thrilled and worried him. His training warned him there was a substantial operational flaw: the Whitmans, Monique, and he were not expected. He caught her deer-in-the-headlights look when she greeted her tablemates. The Whitman women oozed with hatred, and Garett was still in love with her. Leaning back in his chair, he sipped a glass of single-malt Macallan, gazing about the room, awaiting her return.

  "See, darling? There are lots of sights to enjoy." Monique patted his thigh.

  His eyes fixed on the regal beauty, walking across the room to rejoin the table. His pulse picked up when he caught the full effect of the powder pink dress against her creamy skin. He imagined what was hidden underneath and what it would feel like to run his fingers across Cassie's soft skin. His daydream dissipated as he watched her remove Sebastian's hand from her knee.

  She hissed, "Don't."

  Sebastian brimmed with anticipation. When the other couples rose to dance, Cassie accepted his invitation. As he and Cassie moved to the music, Ian saw him slip his hand to the crest of her bottom. He bit his lip when Cassie slid her hand to just between his legs in return. Sebastian stepped back.

  Ian read Cassie's lips and chuckled.

  I don't know what you think you're doing, but I have no interest in you. Take your hand off my behind, or I will make you a unicorn by planting your dick on your forehead.

  Cassie maintained a sweet expression the entire time.

  "Behave, Modine. He just wants to cop of a feel of your hot ass," Greg Wilds barked at her over his com. Cassie gritted her teeth, moving mechanically.

  Sebastian edged his hand to her hip. "Tell me, Cassiopeia, are you always this uncivilized? Such uncouth words for a cultured young lady."

  Senator and Betty were heading back to the table. "I think this dance is over."

  The feisty behavior did not deter Sebastian. Rather than release her, he pulled her hips toward his groin. When Cassie felt his hardness press against her, she placed her hand on top of his. With a slight adjustment of her grip, she bent back his thumb. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead.

  "Walk me to my seat now with a smile on your face," Cassie said with clear command.

  Chapter Eight

  The charity portion of the evening proceeded with brave testimonials from survivors and honors for large donors. Candidates gave modified versions of their stump speeches. Congress members spoke of new initiatives for the prevention of violence against women in the military and civilian populations. Ian wanted to ask his dad about that. The Navy recently implemented a sexual assault prevention and response policy, and his dad was heading the Victim's Legal Counsel Office in DC.

  The pleasant anchorwoman from WJLA-TV—with blonde hair dyed one too many times and tinted white teeth—emceed the evening. "We need to keep our focus on the survivors. Until the fear of reporting these crimes and the stigma that maintains sexual assault is a woman's fault are eliminated, sexual assault and domestic violence will remain severely underreported crimes."

  Her words struck him like a bullet. Fear and stigma. The dinner with Cassie. Is this what she is hiding?

  Cassie sat hypervigilant when Betty Bynum rose to introduce her husband. "My husband is an imperfect man in an imperfect world, but he never stops caring and learning from his mistakes. That's how we grow. Those new insights make him poised to be your next President."

  Senator Bynum rose and took to the podium. "I spent my career trying to make very few mistakes, but I am ashamed to admit I had many misconceptions about tonight's topic. I am here to tell you there are no reasons to justify any violence against women. No woman asks for any of this. No more. Domestic violence is unacceptable. Rape is unacceptable. We need to stand up together."

  Cassie bit the insides of her cheeks. Liar. Everything he said contradicted his record.

  "I promise you when I become your President, the elimination of violence against women will be an administration priority. No more," he repeated.

  Cassie dug her nails into her palm. Those two words from the senator triggered an avalanche of ice wrapping around her. She couldn't understand what was triggering her panic.

  In between pauses in the program, she listened to the table repartee. The Bynums, Marshalls, and Whitmans were longtime friends. Their conversation about a recent trip to Las Vegas and the state of increasing undress of showgirls turned on a dime. Seven pairs of eyes locked on her.

  "Cassiopeia, are you still working for your daddy's company?" Adrienne asked, looking down her nose at her.

  Cassie wondered if she used a spackle knife to apply her makeup. "My father is dead twelve years now, Adrienne." Cassie knew she would loathe the use of her first name. To her, it was a sign of disrespect. "It's my company." Shit, I shouldn't have said that. Cassie paled, knowing this would give Wilds more ammunition, but he remained quiet.

  Claudia's face appeared to be Botox-frozen when she asked, "And what does your young man say about you being such a career woman? You're a CEO."

  "Well, Claudia, so are you. Aren't you?" Cassie resented these questions. She wondered if their son Burt was still single. Was she being vetted? "I'm not seeing anyone."

  That was just the opening Greg Wilds needed. "What? Your SEAL won't come clean and stand in the open?"

  Garett leaned on his palm, staring at her.

  "Son, close your mouth. You look like a beached guppy." Bradford tapped his son's arm.

  Judge Marshall interrupted, "Are you one of those lip-gloss lesbians?"

  Cassie choked. The judge's wife slapped him.

  "Is that your problem, Modine?" Wilds asked, amused.

  "Keep the channel clear," Hector said, annoyance in his tone.

  "That's 'lipstick lesbian,' and no, sir, I am not a lesbian." Cassie glanced at Ian, who winked at her. Her heart jumped. "I don't do relationships. I work too many hours. I don't even have a goldfish."

  Adrienne Whitman said, "That's such a shame, Cassiopeia. It is clear you haven't learned a thing in six years. You never would make a man your priority then, and I see you aren't interested now. You always were selfish. Some people deserve to be alone."

  "I feel it's better to be alone than with someone who is hurtful." The anger she was feeling offset some of the panic.

  "Cass, do you need a break?" Quinn asked in her ear.

  Ian leaned toward Monique, who fluttered her full eyelashes in his direction. "Cassie, I have a wardrobe malfunction. Could you give me a hand?"

  Brice and Vincent both said, "Covering the table."

  Bradford cocked his head toward his son. "You're better off without her. She would never follow the rules."

  The group returned to the table from the dance floor. Unaware of the earlier words Sebastian had with Cassie, Bynum added, "Sebastian, you get your hooks into her. Talk to Robby about her o
r Garett. They must know what makes her tick."

  Bradford's lips twisted into an ironic smile. "I don't think anything makes that girl tick. She needs a lot of loosening up." Garett looked at his father and Sebastian with unbridled contempt.

  Cheyenne patted her rotund belly. "Cassie doesn't know what she's missing. I think being married and having babies is the most wonderful thing in the world. Isn't it, pudding?" She rubbed up against her husband like a purring tigress.

  "I think we need to respect the young lady's choices about dating, marriage, and motherhood," Monique said.

  Ian's cell phone vibrated. "Please excuse me. I need to make a call." He was never happier to receive a text in his life.

  Ian headed toward the lobby to return Kieran's call. The team had touched down from Louisiana. Leaving the room, his eyes followed Cassie. Just a bit of behavior he witnessed made him furious, so he could only imagine what the relationship was like. Potential rescue scenarios were running through his head when Greg Wilds caught his eye.

  "Well, if it isn't, Mr. Wonderful."

  "Greg, is there something I can do for you?"

  "Having fun tonight? I guess you were one and done with Cassie."

  "Have a good evening, Greg." Ian continued on his way.

  At the table, Cassie was enjoying Monique's company. Questions about her experiences helped keep the conversation away from Cassie being the perfect date and potential wife. She decided to reach out to Monique after the assignment was put to bed.

  White-tuxedoed waitstaff began serving a delicious multi-course gourmet meal, starting with grilled polenta with a pesto sauce. The band interspersed each course with beautiful music and, to Cassie's chagrin, urged more dancing.

  In between courses, Garett asked his ex-fiancée to dance. She wanted to refuse, but there wasn't a viable excuse since the senator was on the dance floor with Betty. She tapped the audio in her ear to push to talk. This ensured a bit of privacy.