Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,23

looking between the two, wondering. He changed the subject. She didn't need to know about Guthrie's recent woes, either.

He asked Brandon, "So, where's your date?"

"You know how I said we have a love/hate relationship? Right now, she's not feeling the love. In fact, I think it's fair to say the curtain has dropped on that particular union."

Taryn's shoulders fell. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Gaze on the filling dance floor, Brandon sipped his beer, swallowed. Exhaled. "Yeah, well, she's missing out. Marissa loves to dance."

"You do, too?" Taryn asked.

"With the right girl," Brandon said.

"You never know." Taryn's smile was encouraging. "Maybe you'll find someone nice to dance with tonight."

Brandon cocked his head then shifted his focus to Cole, arching a brow as if asking permission.

Setting both his and Taryn's flutes on a passing waiter's tray, Cole gave Brandon a "she's mine" look and led Taryn away for a dance of their own.

When they reached the floor, Cole half expected Taryn to kick up a fuss, maybe tell him that coming here was one thing, but dancing cheek to cheek was definitely another. Instead, in her glittering gown, which threw occasional sparks off beneath a slow spinning light, she stood calmly before him. Gaze fixed on his, she waited for his arm to wind around and tug her close.

He was happy to oblige.

Her dress rustled as his hand grazed over her waist then slid down until his palm rested on the bare small of her back. When he pressed enough to let her know she should come closer, she stepped into his space. He took her slim warm hand in his and her head tilted back as she drew in a long breath. Then her hand found his shoulder and, with other couples weaving around, they began to move.

"I like your friend," she said as her fingers on his shoulder scrunched a little then splayed.

"He's one of a kind."

"Good at his work, I assume."

"The best."

"A private investigator."

"That's right."

She looked down then back into his eyes. "Cole, you don't have him investigating me, do you?"

"No." He rotated her around. "I've decided I don't need to rattle your skeletons."

A smile touched her eyes but then she blinked. "He is working for you, though."

He exhaled. "There's been a couple of incidents."

"Concerning you?"

"My father."

Her expression fell and dancing stopped. "Is Guthrie in trouble?"

Peering down into those beautiful concerned eyes, Cole set his jaw. Why the media hadn't got ahold of the story was beyond him, but he didn't expect that to last. Someone somewhere only needed to slip a scrap of information and, next thing, this attempted-murder business would be all over the news. He'd already decided that he wouldn't share any of this with Taryn. Hell, he rarely shared anything personal with anyone.

But, for whatever reason, he wanted to tonight.

Cole retold the story surrounding the attempts on Guthrie's life, how Jeremy Judge had practically sewn up the case in a twenty-four-hour window and, finally, how he wasn't satisfied this was over.

Taryn shook her head in disbelief. "No wonder you're irritable."

Suppressing a grin, he moved her around in a tight circle. "I'm always irritable."

"I'm serious. I'd be frantic if Vi's life was in danger."

"Vi?"

"My aunt. She brought me up after..."

Her eyes glistened before her gaze skirted away. Obviously too personal. Cole got that.

He was about to say, "You don't have to talk about it," when she found his gaze again and explained.

"I didn't know either of my parents. I was too young to have any memories of that time, but I still wish things had been different. Normal."

The best he could offer was a supportive smile. She'd said so much with so few words. Now he couldn't find a one.

"I grew up with my aunt," Taryn went on. "Vi's the best there is. She's crazy about cats. She was over today when you phoned. She likes to drop in, you know, but she doesn't smother me like I've heard some parents do." Her brow pinched and he felt her pull back an inch. "I'm boring you."

His gaze brushed her cheek, her lips. "I don't think that's possible."

Beneath the soft lights it was difficult to say, but he thought she might have blushed. Then he felt her draw away a little again. Put that wall back up between them.

"Do you miss the sea?" she asked, looking around at the other grown cadets.

"I'd mentioned there was a time I wanted to serve on a ship. I also thought I might buy a boat-building company and make my own.