Chapter Fifty-Three Audrey
Chapter Fifty-Three
Audrey
After walking through metal detectors to confirm we weren’t armed, I stepped through the arched double doors alongside the man who had just made love to me like he was, in fact, my husband. My body was still pulsing, overheated, and on fire.
It’d been far more than sex. A deep connection. A promise of something real in a world full of lies.
Maybe I should have felt guilty, given what was at stake. But it was hard to regret what had happened between us when it felt like it was meant to.
“You okay?” Alejandro whispered in my ear as we began weaving through the guests in the ballroom.
I peeked up at him. “I need to do what I heard you mumble to yourself upstairs while buckling your belt.”
He gently squeezed my hand. “Did I say that out loud?”
I nodded. “‘Focus up.’”
We both had to switch gears, from our stolen moment to what was to come. Saving Eden. Taking down the men who’d turned our lives inside out. I was ready to hit fast-forward and for it to be over now.
“So,” I began as he turned me toward him, “are you focused up now?”
The full orchestra played nearby, and I didn’t miss the painful irony of being so close to a woman at the piano.
He brushed his free hand over my cheek. “I’m focused on you at the moment.”
Those dark eyes held me captive, turning the music into background noise.
We were in a room full of high-rolling criminals dressed in couture, sipping champagne and preparing to bid on stolen, smuggled, or traded artifacts—according to Hollis.
And here we were . . . pretending we belonged.
Pretending we weren’t bait, the most valuable “item” there. To Rhett and Helix, at least.
Alejandro threaded his fingers through mine and lifted our hands, brushing a kiss across my knuckles.
Good thing our cover was as newlyweds. No acting required for us.
“There you two are.” Hollis popped our moment. She had a habit of doing that. “Nice night, yeah?”
That was his cue. Alejandro hesitated, then subtly brought his hand near his head, activating the motion-sensitive comm in his ear.
“Why don’t you get a drink?” Hollis tipped her head toward the bar, eyes on Alejandro.
Also planned. Reed was there waiting for him.
Alejandro leaned in and kissed my cheek. When he stepped back, my heart stuttered at the sight of him in the dark-navy suit. A crisp white shirt, collar open, two buttons undone. Tan skin I wanted to touch again.
Then my gaze caught the reason why we were there on his finger. Mitch’s ring.
“You better go,” I reminded him when he lingered, clearly reluctant to leave me.
If he was struggling now, how would he handle what we were anticipating would come next?
Hollis gave him a look that said Move, and while I doubted he liked taking orders from my best friend, he did it anyway.
The second he was out of earshot, she asked me, blunt as always, “You had sex, didn’t you?”
Her words jolted me.
I lifted my chin. Unlike me, she had a comm in her ear.
“Not on yet.” She fixed the skirt of her glamorous gown, then snatched a champagne flute from a passing server.
“Not one for me?”
“It’s not to drink.” She winked. No clue what that meant. “Now, tell me all about what happened upstairs. You look properly . . . you know.”
I scanned the room for my brother and confirmed he wasn’t nearby to overhear. “I look what?”
She sipped the champagne anyway. “You rarely swear, so I’m trying to be polite.”
Ohhh. My cheeks flushed. Properly effed? Yeah, well, Alejandro had properly effed me, all right. I exhaled and smiled, feeling too many eyes on us. “Why’s everyone looking at us?” I asked instead.
“Two beautiful women in a room full of men,” she said casually, then glanced at the bar. “One of them, though, is glaring at me like he wants to murder me.”
I followed her gaze to Reed. Yeah, if looks could kill.
They remained engaged in a silent standoff. One that could burn the room down.
“So,” she said, finishing the champagne she wasn’t supposed to drink, “how was it? Exceed expectations? Ten out of ten?”
I almost laughed. We were chatting about sex in a ballroom full of black market bidders, and I wasn’t panicking or puking.
Maybe Alejandro had quieted my overthinking brain when he made love to me.
I rested my hand lightly on my stomach, remembering what I’d said about getting pregnant.
“It was . . .” I let my voice float, mingling with the sound of the saxophone.
“Wow,” Hollis whispered, bumping her shoulder against mine. “That good?”
“That good,” I confirmed as the orchestra transitioned to another haunting piece.
We’d been chasing ghosts—it only made sense to play that kind of music, I supposed.
“I’m glad you didn’t let Mitch being dead for real get in your head and not be with the man who clearly makes you happy.
” Only Hollis could be so upfront like that.
No-holds-barred. She really was the woman I’d gotten to know over all this time.
“You deserve to be happy. I just still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were getting a divorce.
Guess we’re even now, since I lied to you? ”
I gave her a pointed look. “Not quite even.” I lifted the skirt of my dress so I wouldn’t trip, anxious to get closer to the stage for a better look.
“I have to turn on my comm. The auction is about to start. Stay in sight.” She patted my forearm, then left.
I drifted toward the stage, the satin of my dress whispering against the marble. The jazz pulled me in. My fingers moved at my side like they were playing the keys again.
I lost track of time, lost in the music, to the memories of when I used to perform.
A shiver trailed up my spine.
I turned, and there he was. Alejandro. Watching me from across the room.
Our eyes locked. And just like that, I was back upstairs.
Our skin flushed.
Our breaths tangled.
The rhythm of our bodies.
After a few quiet moments, I forced myself to look away, nerves rising like smoke.
The music ended soon after, which meant the auction would begin.
I moved back into position, slipping into place beside my husband as he discarded his bourbon. His arm came around me, firm and protective.
A tall woman in silver stepped onto the stage, speaking in a sultry French accent. “The first item tonight,” she said while gesturing to a holographic display beside her, “is a rare disputed manuscript linked to a fifteenth-century Italian monastery. Opening bid: 1.5 million.”
“That’s probably code for buying Vatican secrets for blackmail purposes,” Alejandro translated in my ear.
Well, that sounded horrible for so many reasons.
Slender remotes lifted around the room. Glasses clinked. A mix of laughter and seriousness filled the air.
“Tangos on-site,” were the next whispered words from my husband. I really could get used to associating that word with this man. Not a fan of the words he’d just said, though, because that meant it was almost time for shit to hit the fan.
I followed his gaze to see Reed slipping out of the ballroom through the service entrance to move into his position.
Hollis was now alone, watching the auction, her expression bored, her body language suggesting she didn’t care.
The next item: an ancient knife rumored to have belonged to a pharaoh.
“Lot 113. Opening bid: 13 million,” the woman said.
Right.
Definitely a front for something else.
Before any remotes were raised, the hologram began to glitch. It flickered once, then again.
I brought my hand to my chest.
Something was coming.
The auctioneer frowned. “Apologies. Technical diff—” Her mic cut out. A burst of static snapped through the sound system, and then darkness.
The ballroom was plunged into black. Screams erupted.
Then a single spotlight snapped on. It hit us. Alejandro and me.
A voice filtered through the room’s speakers—cold, calm, and cruel.
Also, distinct.
A voice I remembered.
“Next item up for bid,” Rhett said as Alejandro stiffened beside me. “Instead of ancient artifacts, how about something a little more contemporary?”
Gasps. Confusion. Movement.
“Tonight’s prize: survival.”
My pulse thundered.
“Who’d like to purchase everyone’s freedom here?” Rhett asked, his voice low and steady. Not villain-like. Just cold and dead.
“The price? Step one: All you have to do is let that woman walk out with the ring on that man’s finger without following her,” Rhett continued as the spotlight burned above us.
“You do that, and remain in the ballroom until you have my go-ahead to leave, and the charges beneath the room won’t detonate and bring this whole hotel down. ”
“And—and what’s step two?” a shaky male voice called out.
Two more lights flickered overhead, now spotlighting Ryder and Hollis, too. “You stop these three people from following that woman out. And then after . . . you kill them.”