Читать книгу Captain's Call of Duty - Cindy Dees - Страница 10

After three solid hours of shopping with Carla, Alex was beginning to have deep reservations about her friend. The woman was a slave driver. Who knew this business of girly primping was so darned much work?

At least she had a moment to catch her breath while two nice ladies administered her first ever mani-pedi. So this was what it was like to be a girl, huh? She had to admit it was nice. But she would never tell that to Carla, of course. Although, how she was going to type with French-tipped fingernails was anybody’s guess.

Carla pulled out an actual checklist and glanced through it again. “Hair’s in twenty minutes. You can eat while your highlights go in. I can’t believe you only gave me one day to work a miracle, Alex. What were you thinking?”

Alex winced. “He asked me last night. I didn’t get any more warning than you.”

“Well, at least the dress is a knock-out. Jim Kelley’s not going to know what hit him.”

And neither would her bank account when that credit card came due. But the dress really was stunning. It was red, of course. With her honey-hued skin and dark hair, that was a no-brainer. How the gown managed to be slinky and classy at the same time was a mystery to her, though. Carla declared it the result of a great designer. Alex just knew she’d never felt so pretty … or feminine.

She was abjectly grateful when Carla took over the conversation with the hairdresser. They got going about highlights and lowlights and she was dead lost by the time they got to layers and weight around her face. Who knew hair had weight?

Carla was fretting by the time they got back to the love nest at four o’clock, fussing that they barely had time to dress her before Jim came at seven to pick her up.

“Wow. Nice place,” Carla commented as Alex let her into the flat. She’d mentioned to Jim that she was inviting an old girlfriend over as part of establishing the cover of living there and he hadn’t objected. And Carla couldn’t tell the business end of a computer any more than Alex could tell the business end of a mascara brush, as it turned out.

The next hour was spent in the bathroom with abundant laughter from Carla and abundant cursing from Alex.

“Okay, Alex. Watch carefully. You roll the mascara brush like this. It separates your lashes and gives them more volume.”

She got the hang of putting on makeup eventually, and she had to admit that when it was all said and done, she didn’t look like a slutty raccoon as she’d feared she would. In fact, her brown eyes looked huge and dramatic, and her smile looked, well, amazing.

“I can’t believe that’s me,” she breathed into the mirror. Her dark hair draped around her face and over her shoulders in lush waves that made her look exotic and sexy. Totally un-Alex.

“Oh, it’s you, all right,” Carla declared. “I’ve been saying all along you’d clean up great if you’d just give it a try. Let’s go zip you into your dress. Can I leave it to you to put on your own shoes before Jim gets here?”

Alex stuck her tongue out at her friend. Putting the shoes on wasn’t what worried her. Walking in them was. The strappy stilettos had at least three-inch heels, and she was going to be within a hundred yards of Jim Kelley—a deadly combination.

In a few minutes, she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet, simply staring.

“Don’t you cry on me, Alex Mendez. I worked too hard getting that makeup just right on you. And don’t kid yourself. It may be waterproof mascara, but it’ll still run down your chin and give you a fake beard if you boo-hoo enough.”

Alex blinked away the tears in her eyes and hugged her friend. “You’re the best, Carla.”

“Of course I am. That’s why I’m your friend. I’m going to skedaddle before Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous gets here. But you have to swear to tell me how he reacts when he sees you. That boy’s going to have a cow. Although, as I recall, goats are more his style,” Carla laughed.

Alex grinned. “I mentioned that last night. May I recommend you not bring it up in his presence? Apparently, he’s still a little touchy on the subject of dating ba-a-a-ah-d girls.”

Laughing, Carla fetched her purse. “Call me tomorrow. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alex had barely enough time after letting out Carla to go back to the bedroom, check her lipstick, which was supposedly some sort of long-lasting stain, and smooth her gown down her body before she heard a key in the front door.

“Ready to go, Mendez?” Jim called from the living room.

She picked up the red, crystal-covered clutch with her emergency makeup in it and stepped out of the bedroom.

Jim Kelley was a hard man to shock speechless, but when Alex Mendez appeared wearing the sexiest red dress he’d ever seen, damned if speech didn’t desert him entirely. His gaze slid all the way down to her painted toenails and back up past the sexy skirt slit with a slender, tanned leg peeking out of it, past the low-cut top—and hitching for a moment on the provocative cleavage—to the lush waves of hair, and finally her face. With makeup. Cripes, she looked like a movie star.

“Mendez?” he finally choked out. “What happened to you?”

She blinked, alarmed. “Why? Is something wrong? You said it was formal.” She ran a panicked hand down the clingy fabric of her dress.

“Hell, no. Nothing’s wrong. You look …” He struggled for a word and finally settled on “… magnificent. Incredible. Are you sure I can’t take a picture? The guys will never believe me—”

“No pictures!” she blurted.

He supposed he could understand her not wanting the Neanderthals at the office harassing her for impersonating a girl. Although, as impersonations went, this one was pretty damned spectacular. Gussied up, Alex Mendez was beautiful.

A slow smile spread across his face as he formally offered her his arm. He asked politely, “Are you ready to go, Alex? We wouldn’t want to be late.”

Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his forearm, and he waited for her to fall over. But shockingly, she remained upright. She took a cautious step. Another. Normally, he’d make a sarcastic comment about her walking upright for a change, but suddenly, picking on her felt weird. Not nearly as weird as the idea that Mendez was a hot chick, though.

Her dad would be so proud of her. And Arturo—He broke off that train of thought sharply, but it insisted on completing itself. Arturo should’ve been alive to see this day. To see his little sister grow up into a beautiful woman. Jim shook his head. She looked so much like him it hurt. She shared some of Arturo’s demons, too, apparently. His gut twisted. He might not have been able to save her brother from himself, but he would damn well save her.

Bedeviled by grim thoughts, he only belatedly noticed that they made it all the way down to his BMW, which was double-parked out front, without mishap. He hovered protectively as he tucked her into his car and made sure her gown wouldn’t get caught in the door. During the short drive to the swanky hotel hosting the event, he glanced over at her every minute or two.

Finally, Alex demanded, “What’s wrong? You’re acting like I’ve sprouted a second head.”

He jerked his gaze back to the road. “Not at all. I just can’t get over how great you look. I’m trying to figure out how I missed it all these years.”

He supposed that would’ve involved him really looking at her. But how did you look someone in the eye when you’d killed their brother? Sure, the police had ruled it all an unfortunate accident. And yeah, he’d told Arturo to quit screwing around and sit down and buckle his seat belt. And no one could’ve known those deer would jump out in front of the truck, or that the road would be a touch icy in that spot. Or that the truck would careen off an embankment and plunge nearly fifty feet into a ravine—

She mumbled, sounding disgruntled, “I’m not a blonde.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Alex shrugged, “You always go for blondes. Even that poor goat was a blonde. I’m not your type. That’s why you don’t notice me.”

Guilt kicked him in the solar plexus. Hell, now he was giving her a complex on top of killing her brother. “Alex, you’re any man’s type. Women don’t come too much more beautiful or sexy than you. You’re going to turn every head at the ball.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but he meant it. She was a knockout.

He pulled up in front of the hotel and flipped his keys and a hefty tip to the valet, who also seemed to be having trouble tearing his gaze away from Alex.

As the Beemer pulled away, Jim held his arm out to her once more. “Shall we?” he murmured, smiling warmly.

A slow, answering smile unfolded on her face and Jim caught his breath. The woman just kept getting more gorgeous the longer he looked at her.

He hadn’t overstated the reaction other men would have to her. Indeed, heads turned as the two of them stepped into the ballroom. A gray-haired man Jim didn’t recognize closed in on them immediately. “Welcome, Mr. Kelley. Glad to have you join us tonight.”

Slick operators, these McNaught people, to be able to identify him on sight with less than one day’s notice. “Call me Jim,” he replied smoothly. “Thanks for having me on such short notice. I’m excited to contribute to getting Senator Chandler back in Congress for another term. Chet and I see eye-to-eye on so many things. It’s nice to know my interests are being looked out for on Capitol Hill.”

“You’re Hank Kelley’s boy, aren’t you? How’s he doing?”

Jim answered grimly, “He’s still in a coma. No sign of a recovery.” And if these bastards were the ones who’d shot him, Jim would personally see to it they regretted it for the rest of their unnaturally short lives.

The guy actually slapped Jim’s back. “So, Jim. Tell me more about you. What business are you in?”

“Businesses, plural,” Jim replied, shrugging. “A little of this and that. Ranching, oil, gold, precious commodities. Whatever makes me money and a lot of it.”

“Not risk-averse, are you?” their escort asked.

Jim laughed. “Caution is for the weak or uninformed.”

Another man joined them and the first one commented, “We were just talking about investments.”

The second man asked, “So why this particular fundraiser, Mr. Kelley? I understand you pulled a lot of strings to buy last-minute tickets.”

“I’m interested in McNaught. Tonight’s party gave me an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Support the Chandler campaign and finally meet the McNaught powers-that-be.”

“For what purpose, Mr. Kelley?” the second man asked a little too casually.

He chose to misunderstand the fellow. “Why, to get Chet Chandler reelected, of course. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

“Of course,” both men replied, flashing him plastic smiles in unison. Not long after that, the men drifted away. Jim repeated the same conversation with only small variations, no less than a half dozen more times before dinner was served.

As the crowd abandoned its cocktails to be seated and eat undercooked scallops and overcooked filet mignon, he glanced down at Alex. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

“Observing.”

He asked through his smile, “See anything interesting?”

“Definitely. We’ll talk later.”

He leaned down and all but put his mouth on her ear. “That sounds perfect.”

She tilted her head toward him and murmured back without moving her lips, “Hidden cameras. Microphones or lip readers or both. Watch what you say.”

He replied, “Guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of the evening telling you how beautiful and sexy you are.” Her eyes widened in something approaching shock, and he added, “You’ve got to get over acting surprised. People will think something’s wrong with you if you don’t take the compliments as your due. Try to act at home in your skin, darling.”

“Easier said than done, snookums.”

He laughed. “I like this look on you. You should stick with it.”

“Have you seen who I work with?” she retorted.

He grinned ruefully at her. “For the record, they’d all love you like this.”

“For the record, I’d never hear the end of it if I showed up at the office looking like this.”

“Would that be so bad?” he asked half-seriously.

She caught the change of mood and considered. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.”

Dinner was innocent enough. They were seated with various high-power business people and just plain rich folks, and the McNaught representative at their table didn’t ply Jim with any probing questions. Chet Chandler gave a predictable and thoroughly boring speech. No wonder he needed McNaught’s money to get himself reelected. The guy was as inspiring as dirty dishwater.

After dessert, waiters rapidly disassembled the tables and hauled them out while a swing band set up on the stage, transforming the venue into a dance.

And that was when the sharks closed in on Alex. There were plenty of harrumphing wives keeping husbands anchored firmly to their sides, but a solid third of the crowd was single, or at least unattached tonight, males. And they had no compunction about moving in on the stunning brunette and flirting her up. It was enough to make a guy a little defensive and a lot territorial.

The first time a slick lawyer from a major international law firm tried to get her phone number, Jim was surprised when Alex flashed him a faintly alarmed look and leaned in closer to him. His arm just naturally went around her shoulder to hug her to his side. Belatedly, he told himself it was what he would have done had she been Lana and some creep moved in on her. But Lana had Deacon now, and the guy was a professional mercenary. He doubted anyone would be moving in on his little sister any time soon.

Meanwhile, Alex seemed genuinely rattled by the aggressive male attention coming her way. After a drunk CEO blatantly tried to proposition her, Alex fled to the restroom and hid there until Jim called in through the door, “He’s gone, Alex. You can come out now.”

She emerged sheepishly, her face a perfect match for her scarlet dress.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’ll live.”

“There’s one sure way to get rid of these jokers, you know,” he said.

“Do tell.”

“Dance with me.”

She smiled ruefully. “They’ll take one look at what a klutz I am and run screaming, huh?”

He placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the large dance floor. “No. They’ll figure out the lady’s taken.”

“But I’m not—”

He cut her off gently. “They only have to think you are.”

“And how do I accomplish that?” she demanded.

“Follow my lead.” He swept her into his arms and spun her around once. And then he pulled her against him, plastering her body against his and—

Whoa. The woman was screaming hot. Her curves fit against his in all the right places, and in her nervous tension, she all but vibrated against him. The sexual energy thrumming through her roared through him.

His mind was completely blown. This was Alex Mendez. Suddenly and completely without warning, she’d gone from one of the guys, kid sister and tomboy to all woman. He had no idea what to think about that, but he knew one thing for sure. She felt pretty damned good in his arms.

As if he deserved to derive one single ounce of happiness from being with her. He was a royal jerk. The Mendez family owed him nothing.

His arm must’ve tightened more than he’d intended, crushing her against him, because she gasped in surprise.

Startled, he glanced down at her.

Her lush lips had parted and her eyes widened. As he watched, mesmerized, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, moistening them to kiss-me-now-you-fool status.

Stop thinking like that! he shouted at himself inside his head.

“That’s better,” he ground out. “Now you look like a woman in love.”