them.
And now she was pushing it by going to a party the entire family was attending. A party where everyone would be speculating about the landscaping company owner and what she was doing with one of D.C.’s favorite sons, Jordan Malone.
“You’re not calling your family begging for help,” he pointed out. “You’re meeting them as someone totally unrelated to the great-niece Stephen Taite has no idea how to locate.”
And rumor was that he had searched for her for several years after her grandparents’ and mother’s deaths. She’d never understood why though.
Turning back to the mirror, she fluffed the curls that fell nearly to her hips and checked the smoky shadow that accented her eyes. She needed to break away from the sapphire blue of his gaze, from the unspoken questions that seemed to lurk there.
“Do you expect Ira Arthur and Mark Tenneyson to be there?” she asked after several moments’ silence.
“They actually have invitations.”
Tehya turned back to him in shock. “How did they manage that one?”
“Through the French Embassy.” Jordan’s lips tightened. “We’re still trying to track down the particulars of that invitation. Until we do, stay close. See if anything is mentioned about the attack on your house.”
“They know about that? So much for a life of fucking anonymity, Jordan. What the hell is going on here?”
“We’ve managed to contain most of it,” he assured her. “But you know how rumors work, Tehya. Someone will have heard about it.”
“No doubt.” She breathed out roughly. “What’s the story then?”
“Your cousin, Denver Roberts, was staying at the house when someone tried to break in. Things got out of hand and shots were fired. That simple.”
“That simple,” she breathed out roughly.
She didn’t want to think about her home. She didn’t want to think about the damage, and she didn’t want to discuss it.
“Fine.” She lifted her hand in a denial of the conversation going further. “Maybe I’ll get really lucky and no one has heard about it.”
“Tey, you’re worrying too much,” he told her somberly. “The meeting will be short, an introduction, no more. Just enough to give the men watching the Taites, as well as you, something to report back to their employers. I want to know who is pulling the junkyard dogs’ chains; and how the hell they managed to get an official invitation to a Senator’s party.”
“It’s D.C.,” she reminded him. “Invitations are traded like baseball cards.”
His head inclined in agreement. “I guess we have to find the collectors then,” he told her.
“Do we have any idea who the dogs are working for yet?” She rather liked the analogy in regards to Arthur and Tenneyson.
Jordan’s lips quirked “Not even a clue. As I said, I’m hoping they’ll lead us to them after the party. If nothing else, put us a few steps closer.”
A few steps closer.
“Well-funded, well-hidden, and well-connected,” she murmured. “We won’t know who it is unless they manage to actually take me.”
He moved quickly behind her, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror.
“Let that happen, and once you’re safe, I promise you, I’ll make damned sure you regret it.”
She heard the anger in his tone and grimaced as Jordan dared her.
“I haven’t been running for all but the first five years of my life just to let them take me, Jordan.”
“Make damned sure of it,” he growled. “The last thing I need is to lose you, Tehya.”
His choice of words had her glancing in the mirror to catch his reflection. He turned away though before she could see anything, and she had the feeling it was deliberate.
“And those words coming from the man who allowed me to walk away nine months ago,” she said calmly. “Tell me, Jordan, did you even think about me before you learned my identity had been compromised?”
She couldn’t leave well enough alone, no matter how she tried.
“I didn’t lose you,” he stated coolly as he turned back to her. “I knew how to find you, Tehya.”
Her lips tightened. “Yes, all you had to do was contact Killian.”
Another thought had her turning around to face him.
“How convenient that my phone had been tampered with just before this happened,” she stated mockingly. “Perhaps we should launch our own investigation, Jordan. Into Killian Reece and whether or not he betrayed me.”
Killian hated her because Sorrel was her father. He would have no problem turning her over to Sorrel’s enemies. As far as he was concerned, blood would tell, and he had no compunction saying it to her face.
“It’s already begun,” he promised. “But that doesn’t