Page 6 of Damien’s Mate

But this was something different. What was it exactly she’d gotten? Besides the obvious.

Reflexively, he patted himself down. His main weapon was still in his shoulder holster, and the backup at his ankle.

Knife—check.

Phone—check.

Security earbud—check.

Security keycard—fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was gone.

Leaving the whiskey for the next lucky occupant of the powder room, he opened the door and started down the hall. He had to get that thing back. The keycards each had a unique identifier. Wherever Rostov or Lila went with it, whatever they stole or destroyed, whoever they hurt, the security system would show that Damien had been there.

He was the one who would get burned.

And whatever else Lila had done, she’d made Damien want to live. Which meant that he really didn’t want to give Salzano any additional reasons to want him dead.

If him taking back the card wrecked her con game and put her in danger from Rostov, well… maybe he’d take care of that little job Salzano wanted him to do after all.

He was almost back to the ballroom when Marco came out, a worried expression on his face. “There you are,” he said, his face lighting up when he saw Damien. “That musta been some bonzo crap you were taking. I was beginning to think you’d done a bunk, and I was gonna have to hunt you down.”

“Not yet,” Damien said. “How much time do we have before the meeting starts?”

Marco glanced at his phone. “Five minutes. Maybe we can take a fucking break while they’re all upstairs. I could use some food.”

He turned back towards the ballroom and said, “Come on. We gotta get back inside before Rizzio finds out we’re both gone.” Louie Rizzio was one of Salzano’s top lieutenants. He’d never liked Damien.

Damien stopped as soon as he got inside, scanning the ballroom for Lila. He saw her on the other side of the room, on an interception course with Marco.

Just as she reached him, she stumbled, falling into him. Marco caught her and set her on her feet. She smiled up at him and said something, and his eyes glazed over, fastened on her cleavage.

Marco was a boob man.

He stammered something, and Lila patted his arm and walked away—in the opposite direction from Damien.

Damien stared, disbelieving. She’d just lifted Marco’s keycard too. If he hadn’t been watching for it, he’d never have seen it.

What the hell was she up to?

He was about to go after her when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Damien whirled, hand on his weapon, but it was only the damn waiter again. This time he was holding out Damien’s keycard.

“This was returned to me by a guest,” he said. “She found it on the floor?”

Slowly, Damien took it. He started to tell himself that maybe he really had dropped it, until he turned it over.

Imprinted on the back of it was a red lipstick kiss.

Lila surreptitiously checked her cell phone clock for the fourth time. Three more minutes before the summit started. She did her deep breathing and muscle relaxation—she was revved up with mission adrenaline and starting to get antsy.

She told herself it was the tension in the air that was getting to her. She was picking it up with her shifter senses—all the bosses were on edge, wondering if this meeting was some kind of trap.

That edginess snaked through the room, overloading her senses.