Chapter 9
Jason swallowed twice. And tried to force a nonchalant exterior. But he was far from uninterested in Tayla’s entrance. She looked amazing. And he realized, if he wasn’t careful, she would distract him tonight.
She walked across the living room, and Knox gave a low, appreciative whistle.
Ignoring the whistle, she looked at Jason and Knox standing over Rowan, and a collection of listening devices on the dining table. “You gentlemen look very handsome this evening.”
“Thank you,” Rowan said, who was the only one not wearing a tux. Sporting his faded Batman t-shirt and jeans, he was staring at Tayla. Almost drooling.
Jason smacked the back of his head. “Are all the GPS trackers operational?”
Rowan rolled his eyes and rubbed his head. “Yes, you’re good to go.”
Jason finally met Tayla’s gaze. “You look beautiful.”
He may have imagined it, but he thought she blushed.
“Thank you.” She set her purse on the dining table. “Where’s Leland?”
“He’s almost ready.”
She grabbed her earlobe, and her eyes grew wide. “I forgot my earrings. One second. Be right back.”
He watched her walk back to her room.
Knox elbowed him.
“What?” asked Jason
“Your date is stunning this evening.”
“Yes. She is.”
“You know you’re insane, right?”
He dropped two listening devices in his jacket pocket. “What are you talking about?”
Knox rolled his eyes. “Of all the women in all the world, why choose the niece—and the only living relative—of a man who could kill you seven different ways with a paperclip? Seriously?”
“Lower your voice.” He glanced at Leland’s door, then Tayla’s.
Both still closed. Thank goodness. Knox was a good friend, which was probably how he picked up on .
. . whatever it was between him and Tayla.
It was also the reason he was tolerating Knox’s comments.
“Nothing has happened. Leland doesn’t have any reason to kill me. ”
With a Cheshire Cat-worthy grin, Knox raised an eyebrow. “Yet.”
“Here.” Jason handed him five GPS tracking devices. “Stick one on Frederick’s car. We may not need the others, but I want to be prepared.”
“Got it.” He slipped them into his pockets. “I was just pointing out the irony. I’ve introduced you to several lovely women in the past few years. With any one of them, you could have had a nice, simple relationship.”
“There’s no such thing as a simple relationship.”
Knox gave an overly-serious, thoughtful nod. “True. So very true. But,” He clamped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m there for ya, pal.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you want to find out if you have a chance with her, I’ve gotcha covered. I’ll run interference on Leland. He won’t be in the way.”
Oh, good grief.
“Interference on Leland? He won’t be in the way? What are you two talking about!?” And just like that, the man who could effortlessly make Jason’s death look like an indisputable accident was staring him down, neck vein bulging, looking like a lion ready to pounce.
Leland stalked up to Jason and stabbed his finger into Jason’s chest. “This may be your mission, per Eric, but no one is sidelining me! I may be old enough to be this child’s grandfather,” he threw a hand toward Rowan, who groaned like the adolescent he was, “but I have more experience than all of you—”
“Hold on, Leland.” Jason held up a hand and pushed Leland’s finger off his chest. “No one is sidelining you. Are you kidding me? We need you. I know that.”
Leland steeled his eyes at Knox. “Then what was all that about? That ‘I’ll run interference for Leland. He won’t be in the way,’ huh? What was that?”
Knox took a deep breath. And Jason knew that look. He knew what Knox was about to say before he opened his mouth. Jason covered his eyes with his hand as if he could keep the inevitable from happening.
“Leland,” Knox said. “I was just assuring Jason that if he wanted to make a pass at your niece, that I would do my best to keep you from killing him. That’s all.”
Jason slid his hand down just past his eyes to meet Leland’s pointed gaze. He was half-afraid Leland wouldn’t believe Knox. And half-afraid he would.
“Boys,” they all turned to Tayla’s voice, “shouldn’t we be going? It’s eight o’clock.”
She heard the conversation. No doubt about it. Jason could see it all over her face. But she didn’t seem mortified. Or angry. Should he say something? Like what?
She directed a brief look of warning to Leland, smiled at Knox, and finally looked at Jason. “Are you ready?”
“Of course.” He turned to Rowan. “Keep a sharp eye on those cameras.” He pointed to the computer screens.
“I know. I got it.”
They headed out without another word. Jason tried to convince himself the silence wasn’t awkward. Walking to the elevators, all he could think about was that this was his most surreal mission to date. And that was saying something.
“Tayla!”
Of course. The very first person she saw as they entered the ballroom would be Chance Chesson. Two-time Oscar winner and two-time Tony winner. And one of the kindest people she knew. He was also the loudest person she knew.
“Tayla! Tayla! Tayla!” He rushed over and gave her a surprisingly graceful hug—considering he carried a full glass of champagne in each hand. Didn’t spill a drop. The man had all kinds of talent.
“Oh Chance, what a wonderful surprise. How are you?”
“Good, good. Oh! Sylvie is just over there. She would love to see you.”
Sylvie Hanes was an extraordinary actress, director, and producer.
And frequently in the company of Chance Chesson.
The Hollywood rumor mill debated whether or not the relationship was platonic.
Tayla was curious too, but it wasn’t anyone’s business.
Perhaps that’s why they chose to vacation on the enchanting and private Isadora Island.
Paparazzi never stepped foot on Isadora Island—that was one of Alec Drakos’ guarantees to his guests.
She wasn’t sure how he could promise that, but she probably didn’t want to know.
“Of course, I would love to see Sylvie.” She turned to Jason. If she didn’t introduce him to Chance right now, it would be noticeably rude. But she wasn’t sure exactly how . . . No time to think.
“Chance, this is Jason.” She linked her arm through his, praying he was okay with how she was handling this. “We met yesterday. Isn’t this island divine?”
Chance’s eyes lit up. “Hello, Jason.” He transferred the drink in his right hand to his left. And, defying the laws of physics, he held two brimming flutes of champagne in his left hand while shaking Jason’s hand with his right—without losing a drop. Talent.
The men exchanged pleasantries. Then Sylvie appeared, and they repeated the whole exchange. Tayla didn’t want to get pulled into a long conversation, so she was relieved when the band started playing a song Chance insisted he and Sylvie “simply must dance to.”
The couple dashed away and Tayla wondered if Chance would dance holding the champagne flutes. She almost wanted to watch that. But she needed to focus. She needed to talk to Jason. Privately.
“Let’s check out the view on the veranda,” she said.
“After you.” He stepped to the side.
The veranda stretched the length of the ballroom with several sets of glass doors welcoming guests to flow between the outdoor moonlit vista and the indoor festivities.
Tayla walked to the edge of the veranda, out of earshot of a few guests enjoying the nighttime view of the ocean.
She faced Jason to spill out her concerns. And her heart skipped a beat.
The full moon illuminated his face. And his entire six feet and two inches of muscle in that perfectly tailored tux. Sweet mercy, he was handsome. And he was staring at her. She needed to say something. Now.
“Um.” Good start, Tayla. Okay, don’t concentrate on his brown eyes. Or his broad shoulders. Just start talking. “I hope that was okay. Inside, I mean. Introducing you the way I did. If I didn’t say anything, Chance would’ve wondered why. And I thought—”
His smile—which was also doing things to her heart rate—assured her everything was fine.
“You did great, Tayla. I’m not undercover.
If I was, I’d be wearing a disguise and we would have a different plan for tonight.
We don’t need to share any details about the last forty-eight hours with anyone, of course. ”
“Yes, I wouldn’t . . . but . . .”
“What?”
“I noticed three or four other people in there that I know, well, at least as an acquaintance. What do I say if they ask about you? I mean, I implied to Chance that we were here together. I mean, I know that was the idea, that coming to the party together would look more natural, but I didn’t realize people would know me. ”
He looked amused. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”
Not one bit. Actually, the only thing that felt odd was how incredibly comfortable she felt as Jason Bridger’s pseudo date. She hadn’t been on a real date in . . . oh, this was not time to dwell on that. “Of course not. I just didn’t want it to get awkward if they got nosey and—”
“Don’t worry about it. You did great a minute ago. Tell them exactly what you told Mr. Chesson. We met yesterday. If they ask, tell them I work in security. No reason to lie. We’re just not sharing everything.”
“Of course. Okay, I can do that.” She glanced through the windows at the well-dressed crowd mingling and laughing. A few couples were dancing. “You know, if they really quiz me about you, I could honestly say I don’t know much. Though Knox did tell me you worked for the CIA.”
His eyebrows shot up. “He did?”
She wasn’t sure how to interpret his reaction. “Yes. Was he messing with me? Is it true?”
A half-laugh escaped his lips. “Yes, it’s true. I don’t advertise it, but it’s not a secret.” He shook his head. “Knox got pretty chatty with you.”
“I think he was trying to reassure me that you’re capable of handling yourself. I already knew that, though.”