Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Beth stopped as though he’d sprouted two heads. “What? No. Flowers would detract from the dress.”
He grinned. “Nothing would detract from this woman.”
“Honestly, Amelia,” Beth chided, “if he wasn’t so handsome, I’d shake him.”
Handsome indeed. The man made the suit. That was true.
And this man… larger than life. Broad and towering and absolutely irresistible.
Amelia rested her hands on his lapels. “If I freak out and don’t know what to say, I’m supposed to look at you.
” She stepped back as his eyes dropped to the slice of her leg now showing. “Okay?”
Camden did a double take on the slits at her thighs. “I’ve been read in and will handle it,” his voice rumbled. “No sweat.”
“If I freeze up—”
“I’ll handle it, Amelia.”
She nodded, nervous but trusting him with her life—and her sister’s. “We might meet someone tonight who knows where Hailey is.”
“And if you think that’s the case,” he said quietly, “keep it to yourself. We’ll debrief later.”
She nodded again. Her nerves were getting worse. “That’s what Beth explained.”
“You ready to go, beautiful?”
Sweetheart. Beautiful. The way he said those words made her feel important. A quake of tenderness skipped over her senses.
She would go anywhere with him. “Absolutely.”
The sound of her confidence was surprising, but by his side, she supposed she could believe anything was possible. Camden slipped his hand around the small of her back and turned them toward Beth. “We’re heading out.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Will do.” Calm and collected, Camden led the way out Beth’s apartment door. They were alone, and in a heartbeat, this unflappable man had spun Amelia to the wall. “Jesus fucking Christ, Amelia. We are not getting out of this building until my—”
The elevator dinged, and voices entered their floor.
They both held their breaths, not knowing if people would come their way.
The voices grew louder. Camden growled, and the intoxicated flutter in her chest flittered.
He inched back, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Beth’s hoity-toity neighbors approaching with a fluffy white dog.
“You don’t want to mess up my lipstick anyway,” she said.
“The hell I don’t.” But Camden took her hand with a deep, tested breath.
They passed the neighbors. Even the fluffy dog gave Camden and Amelia the once-over, as though they didn’t approve of the way he had her pushed against the wall and how, with her head tipped back and lips parted, she’d been ready for anything he’d wanted.
He didn’t release her hand on the elevator ride to the lobby until they reached the CIA-chauffeured car service that waited in the horseshoe driveway of Beth’s fancy building.
“Ma’am.” The driver opened the door for Amelia to slide in.
Camden joined her from the opposite side. Between them was the night’s invitation. It was midnight blue with engraved lettering on thick card stock. Delicate silver constellations were etched around the intricate silver words.
The Sapphire Accord cordially invites you to
A Night under the Stars
Share a Celestial and Sensual Evening
on the Third Saturday in November
Black Tie Attire with a Touch of Stardust
No Weapons, Cell Phones, or Recording Devices
No weapons? That wasn’t something she’d ever added to an invitation before. “Are you unarmed?”
“I don’t need a gun to keep you safe.”
She understood that and hadn’t thought he carried a knife or a gun on his person regularly. But maybe that was a foolish assumption. Their safe houses were practically decorated with weapons. Maybe Amelia was oblivious. She certainly had been with Hailey and Jonathan.
She picked up the invitation. Its beveled edges were gilded in silver. “These were handcrafted.”
“I think the Sapphire Accord has a hefty discretionary fund.”
Amelia tried to imagine Esme’s clientele or her guest list.
He took the invitation and stowed it in his inner suit pocket and took her hand again. “It will all work out tonight. Try to have fun.”
She snorted. “You and this dress are about the only fun that will come of tonight.”
“Don’t say that when the party hasn’t even started. Look at it this way: It’s gonna be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” He shrugged when she didn’t appear to buy into the excitement. “Or you can pick up party tips for events. This’ll be like corporate reconnaissance.”
She side-eyed him but couldn’t keep her worried scowl when he looked at her as though they were going to an amusement park. “All right. I’ll try. What type of work do you usually do?”
“Not this.”
“I know. But…” She squeezed his hand. “What was your last assignment?”
He glanced out the window as they pulled onto the interstate. His thumb caressed her knuckles. “An arms dealer in Syria was playing both sides of the fence. Someone found out and took his children. We brought them home.”
She bit her lip but remembered Beth’s order to leave her lipstick alone. “It doesn’t sound like he’s a good guy.”
“Not at all,” Camden agreed. “But his kids don’t have a say in their father’s work.
And they were young. One wasn’t even talking much.
” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Actually, none had much to say. They were terrified. But now, they’re home.
” He gave her a long look. “I can see the wheels turning, Amelia. What are you thinking?”
“You were probably paid with money earned in…” She paused to think over what she said next, not wanting to offend him. “Really questionable ways.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Does that mean his kids should be left to suffer?”
“No…”
“Did the guy learn a lesson?” Camden shrugged. “No idea. Not my place to play judge and jury.”
She drank in a deep breath. The world wasn’t black and white. Hers had been until recently.
“You did a good thing, then.”
“I did my job. We extracted kids that were in a bad place. Not my job to raise them or instill a moral compass. Their father’s an arms dealer. The odds aren’t great they’ll end up as UN peacekeepers—then again, they might because their dad’s facilitating death for profit.”
“Do you remember every assignment?”
“Some, I try hard to forget.” He turned her hand over in his and traced the lines and creases of her palm as though mapping out a puzzle. “What about you? Any nightmare events that you want to forget?”
She tried to remember standout headaches.
Then she tried to recall her favorite events.
Everything seemed so pointless: the stress over guest lists, menu choices, motifs, and color palettes.
She used to enjoy that part of work, even if she hated the business side of things.
Whether she liked it or not didn’t change the truth—she’d simply been good at it.
“I don’t remember when work changed from something I had to do to pay bills to…
thoughtless monotony.” She chewed the inside of her cheek instead of her lip.
“Maybe Hailey knew that and never told me about her other job so I wouldn’t feel as completely uninterested in my company as I do now.
” She shrugged, unimpressed with herself.
The driver exited the highway and said over his shoulder, “We’re five minutes out.”
Knowing she needed reassurance, Camden squeezed her hand. “You ready?”
She made a face.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She might throw up. “You’re such an optimistic guy.”
“Baby, I am the king of optimism with you on my arm. Anything can happen tonight.”
His calmness didn’t help hers. The sheer lace was suddenly too tight. The feathery eyelashes obscured her vision too much. She might’ve been teetering on the edge of a panic attack.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
The driver pulled into the warehouse lot, lined with expensive valet-parked cars and a row of idling hired vehicles. So many people were at Esme’s warehouse. Her shallow breaths quickened as a sheen of sweat surfaced at the back of her neck.
“Look at me, Amelia.”
But she couldn’t. Instead, she stared at the ugly, dilapidated industrial building. It had been transformed into a showy work of art. Blue-and-purple lights beamed artfully over the imposing imperfections of rusted and barred windows.
Her breath caught. “It’s so…” She couldn’t explain how the transformation changed everything into a sultry fairy-tale ball. Finally, she turned to Camden. “Magical.”
Their sedan paused before pulling into the line of vehicles snaking to the front entrance. The driver asked over his shoulder, “Are you ready, ma’am?”
If she were to freeze, if she forgot what to say, she was supposed to turn to Camden.
Their eyes met. Tonight was her first step to finding Hailey.
Amelia would be that much closer to answers if she walked into Esme’s party.
The queasy storm in her stomach continued to protest, but she nodded to the driver. “Yes, I am. Thank you.”
They rolled into the queue, and with the driver’s quick reminder of their exit instructions, they stepped into the chilly night.
Nothing seemed out of place as they were dropped off. Their invitation was checked as though it was any other tony Washington, DC, gala. The dark entryway that Beth had led them through days before was lit with long silver tapered candles in sconces and alive with laughter and voices.
She walked in on Camden’s arm. Just like when Amelia had first met him in person at the prison and when he melted into the kitchen crew in a back alley, Camden breezed into the party with enough chill to get them both through the evening.