Aim for the Heart. Ingrid Weaver

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the call ended, Sarah frowned. Had she been infected by Hawk’s paranoia, or had Major Redinger sounded more distant than usual?

      She returned her phone to the table, propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head into her hands. She wasn’t going to let doubts infect her mind. Hawk didn’t seem to trust anyone, but Sarah had always been able to trust the army. It was her family, the one constant in her life.

      Do your duty like a good little soldier.

      Her father’s voice played in her memory. Even now, she felt her spine straighten in response. She pushed to her feet and did a circuit of the room, then opened her suitcase, took out a copy of the conference schedule, a floor plan of the hotel and a high-scale map of Stockholm. She carried them back to the sofa and sat down to study them.

      The bedroom door clicked open. “The bathroom’s all yours if you want it, Sarah.”

      “Thank you, Dr. Lemay,” she said without turning around. “I’ll order dinner from room service. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

      “That won’t be necessary. How’s your shoulder?”

      She rotated it briefly, realizing the increased blood flow from her exercises had dimmed the ache. “It’s much better. Thank you for your concern.”

      “Is that the conference schedule?” he asked, his voice growing closer.

      She picked up the paper and twisted to hold it out to him. “Yes. Now that you’re here, I’d like to go over tomorrow’s and Saturday’s events with…” Her words trailed off. She tried not to stare.

      He was no longer wearing the wrinkled denim shirt and casual pants he’d arrived in. He was wearing a tuxedo. And judging by the superb fit, the suit wasn’t any rental. Then again, he didn’t need help from a tailor to make his shoulders look that wide or his chest that broad. The narrow satin stripe down the side of his trousers gleamed as he walked, emphasizing his long legs and the runner’s muscles of his thighs.

      “Are you sure you want to do that now?” he asked. He flipped up the collar of his shirt so he could loop his tie around his neck. The ends of the black tie dangled against his shirtfront as he reached over the back of the sofa to take the schedule from her hand. “The opening reception starts in half an hour.”

      She caught a whiff of soap. His jaw gleamed from a fresh shave. His hair was damp and combed straight back from his face, but he hadn’t been able to tame it completely. Wayward curls brushed the back of his collar.

      “Sarah? Is there a problem?”

      She stood. “I’m not anticipating one, sir. The conference events that take place within the hotel are low risk. I’ve been in contact with the hotel security staff. They have experience overseeing international conferences like this one and are accustomed to working in cooperation with personal bodyguards. They will be monitoring the perimeter at all times and won’t allow anyone into the venue without the proper ID.”

      He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “You appear to be very competent at your job.”

      “I do my best, sir.”

      “Have you changed your mind about being my shadow? If you’d prefer to remain here because of your shoulder—”

      “No, I came prepared to accompany you to every event.” She brushed the wrinkles from her pants, suddenly conscious of her appearance. She had removed her shoes and loosened her belt. Her sweater was rumpled and her hair was in tangles around her face. “I simply wasn’t aware that you wanted to attend the reception.”

      He held her gaze for a long minute, then returned the schedule to her and walked to the mirror that hung on the wall beside the desk. He appeared to focus his attention on fastening his tie. “My mistake, Sarah. From now on I’ll try to make you more aware of my wants.”

      It wasn’t what he said so much as the way he said it that got to her. Or maybe anything he said when he was looking so damn sexy would make any normal, healthy woman imagine he was talking about more than business.

      Hawkins Lemay in a tuxedo. The impact of that sure hadn’t been in his file, either. Sarah allowed herself no more than a moment to absorb the view before she grabbed her shoes, picked up her suitcase and headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll need twenty minutes to change into something more appropriate. Please don’t open the door of the suite or go near any of the windows until I return.”

      The hotel ballroom had mirrored walls, making it appear larger than it was, multiplying the sparkle of the three enormous crystal chandeliers that hung suspended from the two-story ceiling and turning the crowd that milled on the marble floor into a series of endlessly repeating fragments of motion. White-gloved waiters wove among the guests to offer platters of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. A string quartet played on a dais in one corner, providing a refined background to conversations that hummed in several languages.

      The reception was an elegant affair, an international gathering of the rich and powerful. Money, brains, political clout—everyone here was a player in the high-stakes world of energy production. Some supplied it, some came to bargain for it and some were willing to wage war for it. Some, like Hawk, were here to speak of alternatives to the status quo.

      The Stockholm Energy Conference was supposed to be a forum for discussion, although Hawk knew the most significant discussions wouldn’t be taking place at any of the public functions.

      “Champagne, Sarah?” Hawk asked as he scooped a flute from a passing waiter.

      “No, thank you, Dr. Lemay.” She didn’t look at him as she answered. She kept her gaze moving in the same slow, methodical sweep she’d been using since they had arrived. A miniature radio receiver was nestled in her left ear, her link to the frequency that was being used by hotel security.

      He put his free hand on the small of her back as they strolled along the edge of the room, but she didn’t need to be guided. Although she seldom looked at him, she seemed aware of his every move and anticipated each shift of direction he made. He suspected he wouldn’t be able to guide her, anyway. She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who could be pushed into doing anything she didn’t want. He placed his hand on her, simply because he liked touching her.

      True to her word, she had taken exactly twenty minutes to get ready for this black-tie evening. Any other woman likely would have protested the short notice, but not Sarah. She had risen to the challenge and the result was drawing the attention of every male they encountered.

      Her dress was ice blue and glittered as she moved, giving a liquid sheen to her breasts and hips. Her arms and shoulders were covered, but she’d gathered her hair on top of her head, baring her neck and emphasizing the graceful curve of her throat. Her skirt was a wrap style, overlapping at her right hip. The panels parted with each step, displaying a teasing flash of her bare calf.

      But Hawk didn’t think she had dressed to entice anyone. The gown was a practical choice since the long sleeves would conceal her bruises. The slinky knit fabric would resist creasing, so it would travel well. It also would allow her ease of movement, as would the wrap skirt. The beaded evening bag that hung by a glittering chain from her good shoulder left her hands free. It wouldn’t hold much more than her cell phone, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she was unarmed. His gaze lingered on her leg. She probably had strapped her gun to her thigh.

      He СКАЧАТЬ