Baby Battalion. Cassie Miles
if I accompany you inside, is it?”
“Well, I don’t usually travel with a bodyguard, but I’ll introduce you as a friend. You’re not going to believe the inside of their house.”
“Why is that?” He glanced toward her again. Though she wasn’t looking at him, she was grinning.
“The Zamirs have tons of stuff. All of it glitters. Their decor is incredibly ornate—gold-leaf furniture, polished brass vases and crystal chandeliers.”
“Snazzy.”
He heard her gasp, and he knew he’d used the wrong word. Whenever she described something that was over-the-top, she called it snazzy.
“You’re right.” Her voice was breathless. “Snazzy is exactly what I would say.”
He cursed himself for being careless. An apology would only make it worse. He drove in silence. The air inside the Mercedes clouded with suppressed emotion. There was so much he wanted and needed to say. Even if he tried to explain, he didn’t know where to start.
The GPS navigator in the Mercedes had directed him into an upscale, exclusive neighborhood. “We’re getting close,” he said.
She reached over and rested her arm on his shoulder. “Would you pull over? Just for a moment.”
Her touch suffused him with a warm glow. Clearly, she had no idea of the effect she had on him. Tess had always been unaware of her own beauty.
As he parked at the curb, he steeled himself. “What is it, Tess?”
“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.” When she frowned, her eyebrows crinkled. “I want to apologize.”
He knew she was trying to be polite. Though her reaction to his ugliness was natural, she didn’t want to offend. “You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”
“Let me explain, please. I’m not usually so tongue-tied and clumsy. My event-planning business is largely based on my ability to get along with people, and I’ve got to clear the air.” She stared into his sunglasses. “I know this is a cliché, but it’s not you. It’s me.”
“Okay.”
“You remind me of someone,” she said, “someone who was very dear to me. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t look like him. And your tone of voice is different. But there’s…a certain something. Being with you is bringing back a whole lot of memories that are…inappropriate.”
He couldn’t believe what she was saying. She’d recognized him. In spite of everything, she had known in her heart that he was her husband. By God, he loved this woman.
“It’s all right, Tess. I understand.”
“How could you?”
“I’ve lost someone, too.”
And he would find a way to win her back.
Chapter Five
Inside the Zamir mansion, Nolan was glad to be wearing his dark glasses. Tess’s description of the garish, snazzy decor had been accurate. She had, however, failed to mention the several mirrors and reflective surfaces. As always, Nolan avoided looking at himself. He focused instead on Tess as she approached the lady of the house and a stunning young woman who had to be her daughter. All three ladies were slim with black hair, but that was where the similarity ended. Both Zamirs were olive-skinned with dramatic makeup and strong features. Tess had a porcelain complexion with pink roses in her cheeks. Her bright blue eyes with naturally thick lashes needed very little makeup.
After Tess introduced him, they went down the hallway to a long, polished table under two sparkly chandeliers. Green chai tea that reminded him of Afghanistan was served in tiny, ornate china cups. He halfway listened as the women discussed the small dinner party that would be taking place in a few weeks.
Their meeting gave every appearance of an everyday transaction for an event planner, but Nolan sensed an undercurrent. Did the Zamirs have something to hide?
He inserted himself into the conversation. “Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Zamir. You have elegant taste.”
“Thank you.” Her full lips parted in a smile. “My daughter thinks I should scale back. She likes the plain, boring modern style.”
“Just for myself,” said the younger woman who was dressed in a snug turquoise top with silver embroidery at the plunging neckline. “Glitz suits you, Mama.”
Nolan said, “Tess mentioned that you met her when she was a caterer.”
“Her orange truffles brought us together,” Mrs. Zamir said. “My husband tasted those chocolates at a dinner he attended and asked me to try Tess. I have never been disappointed.”
Nolan’s suspicions deepened. The husband had arranged the contact with Tess. Her shift from catering to event planning was six months after Joey was born—a time that coincided with speculation that Joe Donovan might still be alive. He had to wonder if the Zamirs were using Tess because of her friendship with Bart.
A tall man entered from the kitchen. He was dressed from head to toe in black, making him look even thinner than he was. Mrs. Zamir introduced him as her husband’s nephew, Ben. When they shook hands, Nolan sized him up. A handshake could be a useful measure of character. Some men turned it into a macho test of strength. Others pumped nervously.
Nephew Ben’s handshake was like the sting of a scorpion—quick and lethal. His upper lip curled in a sneer as he asked, “What is your occupation?”
Nolan guessed that Ben already knew who he was. To lie would make him appear suspicious. “I’m in town to provide security for Governor Lockhart of Texas.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Zamir. “There are those who want the governor to run for president. Why are you with Tess?”
“I’m planning the governor’s Christmas Eve party at the Smithsonian,” Tess explained. “Nolan and I have been working out some of the details.”
Mrs. Zamir and her daughter reacted with squeals of excitement. Private events at the Smithsonian were a big deal, and they were delighted to be using an event planner who was part of such a prestigious event.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” the daughter said, “how were you selected? Are you friends with the Lockharts?”
“It was a referral,” Tess said. “Do you know Bart Bellows?”
Behind his dark glasses, Nolan kept a watchful eye on the nephew. At the mention of Bart’s name, a muscle in his jaw twitched. In the depths of his dark eyes was a glimmer of hatred. “Corps Security and Investigations,” Ben said. “That’s the company founded by Bellows.”
“Correct,” Nolan said. “He’s my boss.”
Less than two minutes later, Ben excused himself and left the room. Nolan wanted to follow him, to see who he was reporting to, but he assumed there was surveillance inside this mansion and didn’t want to behave in a manner that would draw further attention to himself. So, he settled back in his chair and stayed with the ladies.
As the women analyzed every detail of the upcoming dinner party, he tuned out. There was only so much discussion of food and cutlery that he could take. Did it really matter if the orchid table decorations were mauve or magenta? Was asparagus in season? Which vintage wine was the best?
His gaze rested on Tess. She was animated, engaging, charming. Her head tilted to the right when she listened. Tiny dimples appeared in her cheeks when she chuckled. Her laughter enchanted him, and he remembered going to great lengths to amuse her. He’d told jokes and surprised her with silly presents. In the early days of their lovemaking, he’d bought a pack of neon condoms so they could play hide-and-seek in the dark.
In the bedroom. Remembering her in his bed was a mistake, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Tess stretched out on