Embraced by Love (23 page)
Jules was hanging in. “Ms. Chadwick. With all due respect, yesterday this was a joke. But today the Freedom Network’s involved. There have been several e-mails that have raised a red flag. I don’t have the details yet, but my boss, Max Bhagat, is concerned. And believe me, when he becomes concerned, you should take it seriously.”
Mercedes looked again at the computer documents Jules had given her—pages upon pages, printed directly from the Freedom Network’s website. They included a sheet with a printed picture of her face in the center of a bullseye target.
She laughed, but to Cosmo’s ears it sounded a little forced. “This is priceless, you know. I couldn’t buy this kind of publicity.”
Her brother spoke, his voice sharp. “I think we’ve all agreed this has gone too far, Jane.”
Mercedes—or Jane, as her brother called her—looked from Jules to Decker to Tom and finally to Cosmo, as if she’d somehow decided that she trusted him above everyone else in the room. “Am I really in danger?” she asked.
Not from him. Nothing moved him less than a woman like J. Mercedes Chadwick. Yes, she was beautiful, with a perfect oval of a face that hinted of a Middle Eastern ancestry. And her body . . . He let himself look at her, because obviously, the way she dressed, she wanted him and everyone else in the universe to do just that. And why not—she had one hell of a body.
And okay, yeah, he was a freaking liar. She moved him. He’d have to be dead for at least a year for cleavage like the kind she packed to not make him sit up and take notice. But she moved him the way catching a glimpse of one of Silverman’s favorite porno flicks moved him. He was embarrassed and vaguely disgusted with his reaction. Because there was nothing real about it.
Sex with women like J. Mercedes Chadwick was just a step up from getting it on with an imaginary girlfriend.
Cos was glad that this woman was a client—which would make her off-limits. Even if she threw herself at him, he’d have a solid reason to resist the temptation, thus avoiding all morning-after regrets.
But right now, she and the rest of the people in the room were looking at him, waiting for him to speak.
He cleared his throat. “Lotta crazy people out there,” he told her. She seemed to want more, so he kept going. “Seems like a no-brainer to me—letting us come in and provide security, letting HeartSong pay for it.”
She looked down at that picture again, frowning slightly. And Cosmo suspected that it scared her more than she was willing to admit.
But she kept up her act. “They spelled my name wrong,” she said.
“Yeah, but they got our address right,” her brother pointed out. “Down to the zip code, for anyone who might want to send a package bomb.”
There was silence then, as that bit of info sank in.
J. Mercedes finally sighed, swearing under her breath. Then she looked up again, directly at Cosmo. “How do we do this?” she asked him. “How exactly is this going to work?”
LOVE IN THE ’90S
Meet Josie and Cooper. They’re deeply in love and are trying to cope with the demands of full time jobs and a full time marriage. Tonight’s their anniversary, and it’s time to celebrate . . .
“Wait a minute,” Cooper said. “You look like Josie. You
sound
like Josie.” He kissed her again. “You even taste like Josie, but Josie never once in the past five years
ever
agreed to take an extra day off without major hand-wringing.”
Josie laughed as he scrambled to his feet, hauling her up next to him.
“But only the real Josie loves to dance . . .” he lowered his voice dramatically, “. . . the forbidden dance.”
He turned on the CD player and music with an unmistakably Latin beat came pounding out of the stereo speakers. He turned the volume down and held out his arms to his wife.
Josie crossed her arms. “The real Josie couldn’t possibly lambada in this skirt,” she said. “Besides, this song has a mambo beat.”
Cooper grabbed her and began to mambo with her across the living room and into the kitchen. “It was a trick question, and you answered correctly! You
are
the real Josie,” he cried. “Champagne for everyone!”
He kissed her before he released her and pulled a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. As he took two long-stemmed glasses from the cabinet, he pointed at Josie. “While I pour,” he said, “
you
have to change out of your scary clothes. Champagne and scary clothes don’t mix.”
Josie leaned back against the kitchen counter and smiled. “But Cooper, it’s so unlike you not to want to unwrap your anniversary present.”
He looked at her sharply, pushing his long hair back from his face. Then he smiled, laughing softly. He moved toward her, the champagne forgotten . . .
ALSO BY SUZANNE BROCKMANN
Heartthrob
Bodyguard
The Unsung Hero
The Defiant Hero
Over the Edge
Out of Control
Into the Night
Gone Too Far
Flashpoint
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 1995 by Suzanne Brockmann
Excerpt from Hot Target copyright © 2005 by Suzanne Brockmann
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published by Pinnacle Books in paperback, in 1995.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-48047-7
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