The next day, Emily looked at the empty chair beside her and then around at the half-full conference table. She scowled because even if the table had beencompletelyfull, there still would have been a vacant seat next to her.
It was a conspiracy. She was convinced of it. Trouble was, she wasn’teven mad about it anymore. She’d come toexpectthe empty chair.
“So what did you and Christian get up to last night?” Samantha asked from beside Emily.
“Nothing.” She was pleased to note her voice sounded smooth and convincing.
Samantha stuck out her bottom lip. “That’s too bad. I was certain you and Christian—”
“Stop sayingyou and Christian,” Emily interrupted, feeling likea rattlesnake at a petting zoo, poised and ready to strike anyone or anything that came her way.
She’d been ill-tempered and peevish ever since England. But today she was particularly irritable because last night she’d come to the startling conclusion that Christian was right. Shedidwant him. But more than that, shelovedhim. There was no other name to give all those bright, sparkly feelings.
Unfortunately, realizing she loved him changed nothing. She was still a Scott and a bad bet when it came to romance, at least the long-lasting kind. Which meant she wouldn’t act on her feelings out of kindness to Christian—you know, in case they disappeared some day—and out of fear that if that day ever came, she’d put everything she’d worked so hard for in jeopardy.
“Thereisno me andChristian,” she added, perhaps a bit too forcefully.
“Like I said”—Samantha shrugged—“that’s too bad. And stop trying to kill me with a look. I’m not that easily intimidated. Besides, if you don’t cut it out, your face might get stuck that way.”
Emily sighed. As a fellow South Sider, Samantha was immune to Emily’s usual ’hood-girl tactics. On the one hand, a pity. On the other, it wasnice to have someone with whom to talk White Sox baseball and to share the best places to get deep dish.
Deciding her best bet at self-preservation was to change the subject completely, Emily said, “So what’s with the impromptu meeting?”
They’d had their sit-rep at 8:00 a.m. It was now 7:00 p.m. Most of the Black Knights had gone home, at least those who didn’t still live on the premises.So the only people sitting around the conference table were Ozzie and Samantha, Ace and Rusty, Angel, Becky, Boss, and…
Right on cue, Christian strolled into the conference area. It was on the second floor, which was open on one side to the bike-building shop below. Wasting no time, Christian snagged the seat beside Emily. A second later, his arm went around her chair, and his fingers begantwirling the ends of her hair.
Boom! Pow!That was the sound of all her bright, sparkly feelings, her…loveexploding all over the place. Christian turned to gift her with a smile that was so sweet it made her heart ache. When she sucked in a startled breath, his sweet smile turned positively wicked.
He was playing her as easily as a musical instrument. And worse, she waslettinghim.
Her narrowed eyes told him to go do something with himself that usually required a party of two.
He leaned over to whisper, “I’m not really into that, darling. If I were, I’d have saved myself loads of trouble in life. Still, if you fancy volunteering—”
She was about to cut him off—just the thought of what he was suggesting had goose bumps peppering her skin—but Boss beat her to it.
“So, let’s do this, shall we?” Boss spun a Ka-Bar knife atop the table. He was a blade man, so the weapon was never far from him. Emily had wondered more than a time or two if he took it to bed with him and then tried to imagine how Becky might feel about that.
Since no one had answered her initial question, she tried again. “Do what exactly? What’s with the impromptu meeting?”
“Samantha”—Bosstilted his head toward the brunette to Emily’s left—“this is your show.”
Samantha nodded and folded her hands atop the conference table. Her eager posture, paired with the oddly timed meeting, piqued Emily’s interest. “So I heard back from my contact in London,” she said. “He says it took some doing, but he found out that Christian’s name was given to the director of current affairs at theBBC, a woman named Layla Sharp.”
Emily stilled. Could it be? Was this the lead they’d been waiting for? Her heart rabbited out and started hopping around inside her chest.
She looked around the conference table. “Shouldn’t we call in the rest of the team? Everyone will want to hear this.”
“We’ll brief them in the morning,” Boss said. “I don’t want to wait one more second to figureout who Spider is.”
“Okeydokey then.” Emily nodded, turning back to Samantha. “Proceed.”
Samantha’s eyes were bright with intrigue. As an investigative reporter, she got super excited when she smelled a juicy story. “Supposedly, this source told Layla that he knew Roper Morrison’s bodyguard, Steven Surry. According to this source, before Surry died, he’d called to say that besides theagent who’d been sent in to bring Morrison down, he’d recognized another guy, Christian Watson, a fellow former SAS officer.”
“Told you Surry was to blame,” Rusty said, crossing his big arms over his even bigger chest and leaning back in his chair. His auburn hair was in need of a cut. It curled around his ears and fell over his brow, enhancing his already ridiculous good looks.
“Yes”—Acenodded—“you were right. Further proof that you’re not just a dumb jock, huh?” When Rusty shot him a scathing look, Ace added, “What? Am I annoying you?”
