She wrenched out of his arms, and stalked toward the corner where Sveti entertained Rachel, heels clicking smartly over the gleaming ballroom floor. Fury radiated from her tense, slender figure.
Their dining table was momentarily deserted, all of the other couples either dancing or dealing with their children. The chance he had been waiting for. He strolled back to the table, pulled out his cell, and feigned texting a message while he detached the quarter tablet of tasteless, odorless R-55-Triplex he’d taped inside his pocket.
He let it plop into Steele’s wineglass as he reached for his own.
Done. He took a deep swallow, tempted to eat the other three-quarters of the tablet himself, just for a break from this unbearable tension. But he could not. The image of his mother on the bathroom floor was etched indelibly in his mind. Drugs could never be a refuge for him. Nor would he dare risk losing his edge, tonight of all nights.
A quarter dose was the smallest effective dose he could give her in solid form. He’d reasoned that he would have no good opportunity to administer drops unobserved in public. R-55-Triplex was formulated by PSS’s lab techs for situations just like this. In larger doses, it had been favorably compared to Ecstasy—just more subtle, with no hangover, headache or thirst. A quarter dose should render her euphoric, mellow, more receptive sexually. Alcohol intensified the effect, food reduced it. But she ate so little. If he could get some more wine into her…if she didn’t realize that she’d been altered…maybe.
He took another swallow of wine and smiled and nodded as Davy and Margot McCloud swayed by, entwined. Davy’s eyes lingered on him thoughtfully, and then something his wife said drew his attention back to her. Davy smiled and kissed her. The kiss caught fire, right on the dance floor. When they surfaced, the redhead was flushed, heavy-eyed.
Touching, he thought glumly. How nice for them. Sex with no problems, no lies, no betrayal. How pleasant.
He had tried, for a time, to find weak spots to exploit in the McClouds in the process of reseaching various ways to manipulate Steele. But when it came to McClouds, there were no weak spots, no fault lines. Nothing to exploit. The entire clan was rigidly upright in their business dealings. It was evidently a family trait. Their bank accounts, stock portfolios, and tax returns baffled him. That kind of honesty and transparency in Italy would run a business into the ground in minutes. But to all appearances, they seemed prosperous. A mystery.
He had lost sight of Steele. Panic yawned wide in his belly. He searched the crowd anxiously for that bronze fabric, the flash of her pale face and arms, the gleam of coiled mahogany hair.
Only when he spotted her could he breathe again.
Tam reached across the table and ran her hand through the soft red ringlets of little Jeannie, Davy and Margot’s baby daughter, thinking how pretty the baby was with those huge slate-blue eyes, that crazy open-mouthed grin, the four little pearls of teeth popping out, two above and two below, from her pink gums.
Margot’s mouth fell open. Tam barely stopped herself from giggling at the other woman’s expression. True, she was feeling oddly mellow—for her. She’d downed quite a bit of chianti on an empty stomach, but it was finally relaxing her, thank God. She’d felt like she was made of steel cables strained to the snapping point. Tension that severe had to find some release. It was a physical law, like gravity. If you didn’t respect it, bad things happened.
Finally, that headache was backing off, and she could appreciate how nice the McCloud Crowd looked in their wedding finery. Easy on the eyes, as Nick was fond of saying. She leaned her chin on her clasped fingers, appreciating the tender way that Seth was cupping Raine’s pregnant belly, whispering something into her ear that made her blush.
Sweet. And it was. Really. She wasn’t even being snide. She smiled her approval. Seth caught it and did a startled double take.
Maybe Janos was right about her being a secret romantic.
“I did a background check on Janos,” Davy said to her quietly.
Duh, so did I, moron, as soon as I learned of his existence. For some odd reason she refrained from saying it out loud. “And?” she asked graciously.
“He looks good,” Davy said heavily. “In fact, he looks too good. Way too good for my tastes.”
Tam swiveled to look at the man in question. He was waiting in line at the crowded buffet where he’d gone to fill her plate. She observed his broad shoulders, the elegant shape of his head, the fine cut of his jacket, the excellent shape of his ass.
“Doesn’t he, though?” she said. “Mouthwatering.”
Margot choked on a burst of laughter. Davy’s puzzlement turned to visible alarm. “Are you feeling OK, Tam?”
“I’m fine,” she said airily. “Maybe just a tiny little bit drunk.”
“You, uh, want to go lie down, or something?”
She was touched by his concern, silly though it was. “No.”
She turned away and caught Erin’s eye. Erin was discreetly nursing her son under her scarf. For the first time, the sensual intimacy of the madonna-and-child routine did not grate upon Tam’s nerves.
“Sveti told me you flew her out for the wedding,” Erin said.
Tam nodded. “Maybe she’ll come and do a year of American high school, if she can persuade her mother to agree. She’ll stay with us.”
“I’d have a hard time with that if I were her mom,” Erin said fervently. “I’d keep that girl handcuffed to a radiator.”
The women contemplated the nightmare Sveti’s mother had gone through last year, after her daughter’s abduction at Zhoglo’s hands and her husband’s murder. Months of agonizing uncertainty.
“Speaking of motherhood,” Tam said. “I…I have a favor to ask.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “Ask away.”
“It’s about Rachel.” Tam dragged in some air, and forced herself to push on. “If anything happened to me—would you and Connor—”
“Yes,” Erin broke in. “God, yes. You don’t even have to ask.”
Relief she hadn’t expected to feel made Tam sag in her chair.
“There’s money for her in my will, but I don’t have custody yet,” she admitted. “The adoption hasn’t gone through. There are some problems. If anything should happen to me before I fix them, you’d have to fight for her.”
“We would fight for her,” Erin said. “Count on it.”
The steel in Erin’s voice comforted Tam. Tears prickled in her eyes. “Thanks,” she said thickly. “That’s, ah, good, then.”
Janos appeared at her elbow, and placed a plate with several appetizing dabs of food before her. He poured her another glass of wine, flashed her a devastating smile. Amazing. The grooves that flanked his mouth carving into the hollow of his cheek, the shadow of his beard stubble, that fan of eye crinkles…add the glint of danger, the lure of the unknown, his ironclad persistence, and voilà. A marvel of nature.
Novak. Georg. She dutifully reminded herself of her enemies, but the alarm bells in her mind were distant and muffled. True, Valery Janos was a liar, a spy and a killer—but such a gorgeous one.
Everything seemed strangely beautiful tonight. The way the light from the tall white candles on the table glimmered in the curved surfaces of the wine and water glasses pleased her. So did the luscious glow of the silver buckets that held the white wine and the champagne. Mellow golden candlelight sparkled and reflected and refracted, softening everything and everyone she looked upon. What a pleasure to draw air into her lungs and feel her ribcage willingly expand to accommodate them. No iron plates clamping down, no need to struggle