of command, Higgens could easily control the situation. I'll bet he's in charge of finding them and he's branded them dangerous..."
"Lily, they are dangerous. Do you have contact with these men?" His voice was gruff, demanding an answer. "I forbid you to put yourself in danger. Delia would be devastated if anything happened to you. I won't have it, Lily. I'll put you under house arrest at my residence and have you guarded day and night."
"How do you know for certain whom you can trust? I was afraid to talk to you about this because you didn't answer my father's calls or emails."
"I never received your father's messages or his letters, Lily. You do believe me, don't you? I can't believe he's really gone." She could hear the sorrow in his voice, read it in his mind. He couldn't fake such sadness.
"They threw him into the ocean. I knew when he died."
General Ranier hugged her. She could feel his deep sorrow, the anger in him beginning to stir. The outrage that he might know the men responsible. "I'm sorry, Lily, he was a great man and my friend."
"Don't worry about me, General. Arly sees to it that I'm perfectly safe. No one's going to bother me in my home," she assured him. "We've been together too long. They'll be afraid of what we might say to one. another. You're going to have to act natural in front of them until we find proof."
"Not we, Lily, me. And I mean that, consider it an order. You stay out of this. And if you know anything about those men and their disappearance, you'd better tell me now."
Lily remained stubbornly silent.
General Ranier sighed. "I'm afraid poor Delia is going to have a terrible headache after these next couple of dances. You check in with me, Lily, every day. Call and speak with Delia and let her know you're all right."
"I will, General." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for just being you. You have no idea how relieved I am."
Lily watched him stalk through the crowd before turning back to survey the dancers. Lily began walking the perimeter of the dance floor. A slow, leisurely circuit. Excitement was blossoming. Hope. Fear. So many emotions, intense and difficult to control. Her pulse leapt, her heart raced.
Come to me, Lily. Ryland's voice brushed seductively in her mind. She could hear his raw hunger. There in the midst of danger and intrigue she knew what he was thinking and it had nothing to do with generals and colonels and conspiracies.
He was here in the same room with her. Ryland Miller. Somewhere in the shadows, a part of the throbbing music. A part of her. She moved through the crowd, her body alive. Needy. Seductive. Her breasts ached and her skin felt hot. Her blood thickened and heated, pooling low to pulse in time to the music.
Lily knew he was watching her, she could feel the weight of his stare. Everything feminine in her rose up to answer his call, reveled in his stare. She moved as only a lover could move, her body saying without words what her heart could not. Men stopped her briefly, murmuring invitations. She barely noticed, shaking her head, knowing he was watching her effect on other men as she moved with complete confidence through the crush of bodies. Knowing he watched her with hot, hungry eyes. For Lily, there was only her phantom lover, bold enough, arrogant enough, crazy enough to dare follow her here when he was in far more danger than she could ever be.
Lily knew she should leave, not give in to temptation. Ryland was in danger even coming near her. But the risk of discovery only added to her heightened awareness, her sizzling senses. Her body came alive. Her heart lifted and she found herself smiling. Her hips swayed, a sultry invitation as she wound in and out of the crowd on the edges of the dance floor. She was grateful she had dressed with such care earlier, sliding the shimmering dress over her scented skin, pretending it was for him. Ryland. Pretending she was meeting him on the dance floor.
Of course he had read her fantasy in her mind while she stood in front of the mirror showing him the dress lovingly caressing her breasts, hugging the curve of her hips. She had wanted him to crave her while she was gone. To think about her back so daringly bare all the way to the curve