Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) (37 page)

“You clean up nice,” Trace joked.

“I’d say the same for you, but I think
you’re missin’ somethin’.”

RT nodded toward him, his eyes going to
Trace’s
throat.

Damn it. So he did have to wear the stupid
bow tie.

“Z’s drivin’ us,” RT informed him when he
made his way back to the living room after putting on the noose.

Trace was pulling at the tie when he heard
the sound of the guest room door open. He turned to see Courtney stepping out,
looking very nice in her black dress and matching heels. But then, the moment
his sister moved out the way, Trace got a glimpse of Marissa, and he was pretty
damn sure he swallowed his own fucking tongue.

RT whistled. “Y’all look nice.”

Nice? Seriously? That was all RT had.
Nice?
No. Not
nice
. Marissa looked… Holy fuck.

Realizing he was still staring, Trace
lifted his gaze to Marissa’s face, finding her staring back at him. He took
three steps, closing the gap between them. He placed one hand on her hip, the
other cupping her cheek as he smiled back at her. “You don’t look nice. You
look fucking amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her cheeks
turning a pretty shade of pink.

Trace couldn’t help himself, he leaned in
closer to her ear and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “And when
we get back here tonight, I look forward to taking this dress off of you. With
my teeth.”

Marissa’s sharp intake of breath made his
dick harden more than it was already.

Down,
boy.

There was no time for that. He needed to
get his mind on the mission, not on the sexy woman in the red dress. He wasn’t
sure how he was going to pull this off tonight, especially when he’d have the
hottest date in the place, but he knew he had no other choice.

“Weapons?” RT asked.

Courtney patted her thigh. “Locked and
loaded.”

RT turned to
Trace
.
“You?”

Trace nodded. He had his Glock in the
shoulder holster, a .38 on his ankle, and his trusty KA-BAR on him, as well.

“What about you?” RT asked Marissa.

Marissa smiled back at her brother.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have anywhere to hide one.”

“She won’t be leavin’ my side,” Trace
assured her brother.

“Agree. All right. If y’all are ready, I
am,” RT said with a grin.

Everyone moved toward the door, and Trace
mentally ran through his weapons once more, all while staring at Marissa’s
incredibly fine ass.

Lord, it was going to be a long night.

“Courtney,” Max Adorite greeted as the
four of them approached the intimidating man standing in an oversized room that
resembled a banquet hall. A very lavish, expensively decorated banquet hall.

Not quite what Marissa had expected to
find at someone’s residence, certainly not this one, but to each his own.

However, despite the fact that she was a
little distracted by the décor, Marissa found it interesting that Max chose to
speak to Courtney first, instead of greeting Ryan or Trace. Then again, based
on what Courtney had told her earlier, they had history together. If the way Max
looked at Courtney was anything to go by, Marissa had to believe it was some
serious history.

“Max,” Courtney replied, her voice cold,
emotionless. “You’ve met Ryan Trexler. This is Trace Kogan and this is Ryan’s
sister, Marissa.”

“Very nice to see you again,” Max said,
smiling as he took Marissa’s hand.

She instantly noticed Trace’s glare, the
way his eyes narrowed on Max.

“Likewise,” Marissa replied in kind.

“Thank you again for the invitation,” Ryan
said, his eyes scanning the room.

Max looked directly at Ryan. “Well, I’d
say that I’m happy to see you again, but I’d be lying. However, I do hope you
manage to enjoy yourselves tonight,” Max said dismissively, his eyes traveling
over Courtney once again before stopping on her face. “As for you, I hope
you’ll save at least one dance for me tonight.”

Courtney didn’t respond, but Marissa
noticed the pink flush that seared her friend’s cheeks. She wasn’t unaffected
by Max, clearly.

“What was that about?” Trace growled when
Max was out of earshot.

“None of your business,” Courtney snapped.
“I’d like a drink.”

With that, Courtney walked away, Ryan
following close behind. Beside Marissa, Trace stood stone still, watching as
his sister disappeared into a crowd of people.

“She knows what she’s doing,” Marissa said
softly, drawing Trace’s attention toward her.

Trace didn’t respond, but she hadn’t
expected him to. He looked fit to be tied, probably plotting how to beat the
hell out of Max for dating his sister at some point.

Men.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

“We mingle. And we wait for Dan Duchein to
make his appearance.”

Marissa nodded, accepting Trace’s hand
when he reached for her. As she figured he would, Trace led her in the same
direction Courtney had gone. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but she
hoped, for all their sakes, he could leave it be for the night. They had a job
to do, one that they couldn’t screw up. No matter what.

□«»□

An hour in and nothing had happened,
making Marissa believe the night was going to be a bust. They’d mingled with
the rich and some of the famous, pretending to drink champagne and laugh along
with the various stories being told, all while Trace scanned the room looking
for Duchein. Marissa started to believe the man was a no-show.

Maybe Max had just extended the invite to
see Courtney. The interest she’d seen in Max’s gaze when he’d looked at
Courtney was potent enough to set off the smoke alarms, so she wouldn’t put it
past him. Then again, how could he have known she’d be there? Either way,
Marissa’s hopes were beginning to plummet.

“Dance with me.”

Marissa’s head snapped to the side to see
Trace staring at her intently. “Me?”

A smirk tilted the corner of his lips and
she sighed. It did it to her every time. “
Only
you.”

When his big, warm hand enveloped hers as
he led her to the dance floor, Marissa stayed close to him. And when he pulled
her into his arms, she sighed once again.

So, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if the
night was uneventful. At least she had this. Dancing with Trace… It was
something she’d imagined but never truly thought would come to fruition. Not
necessarily because she didn’t think she’d ever get this close to the man, but
she knew Trace. He wasn’t much of a dancer.

Or so she’d thought.

For the next two slow songs, Marissa lost
herself in Trace, impressed by his masculine grace, intoxicated by his scent,
the headiness of being so close to him. Wrapped in his powerful arms, she never
wanted him to let her go. And perhaps he wouldn’t have, but when his body
tensed, Marissa instantly knew the night was about to take a drastic turn.

“Button on the left of my watch. Press
it.”

Because Marissa was holding his hand, she
deftly hit the first one she saw, hoping it was the right one.

“I’ve got eyes on Duchein. Nine o’clock.”

Marissa peered up at Trace, wondering if
Ryan was responding, but unable to hear thanks to the tiny transmitter she’d
seen him insert into his ear during the drive over.

“Roger that,” Trace finally answered.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, still
holding tightly to him, forcing herself not to squeeze too tightly. The last
thing she wanted was for Trace to know how scared she really was.

She couldn’t deny the fact that she was
freaked out. Knowing that the man who was out to kill her was in the very same
room was making her incredibly nervous. She’d watched horror movies and read
plenty of thrillers to know that a well-formulated plan generally went awry
when the bad guy saw it coming. Since this guy always seemed to be one step
ahead of them, she figured he was on to them.

According to what they’d told her, Duchein
had met with her father, as well as Casper, Trace, and Ryan, which meant he
would know they were on to him merely from their presence at Max’s party.

Seriously, it wasn’t as though they ran in
the same circles.

And now, Marissa feared she was merely biding
her time.

□«»□«»□«»□

Trace felt Marissa shiver in his arms as
he continued to hold her close, gracefully moving her around the dance floor,
flowing with the oblivious couples around them.

Glancing down at her, he tucked one hand
beneath her chin and forced her to look at him.

“You’re safe with me, Marissa. I swear to
you, on my life, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He could tell she didn’t believe him, but
he respected her ability to placate him with a subtle nod. He continued to
watch her, doing his best not to look over at Duchein. RT was heading in the
man’s direction, intending to head him off. Not wanting to spook the guy, Trace
opted to focus all his attention on Marissa.

With his fingers still stroking the smooth
skin of her neck, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Savoring the sweet
taste of her, the warmth of her body against his. Part of him wished they were
back at his place, where he could strip her out of that sexy red dress and make
love to her appropriately. Lord knew it had been the only thing on his mind up
until the moment he’d seen Duchein.

“We’ve got a guy at the front door makin’
a ruckus,” Z said, his voice sounding in Trace’s ear.

Pulling back from Marissa, he held her
close, shielding her with his body.

“What’s he sayin’?” RT asked.

“Somethin’ about needin’ to talk to Max
Adorite. He’s got some information or something.”

“The Adorites’ll handle it,” RT said
softly.

“Only one problem with that, boss,” Z
replied. “This guy pulled up in a blue Malibu.”

Trace stood up straight, glancing around
the room once again. No way was that a coincidence.

“He just used Marissa’s name,” Colby
confirmed. “Told security that he needed to speak directly with Max regarding
Marissa Trexler.”

Fuck.

Scanning the room, Trace tried to locate
Max, but the man was nowhere to be found. Nor were any of his kin.

Had they been set up? Had they walked
right into a trap?

“We need to get her outta here,” Trace
said quietly. “I don’t like this.”

Courtney’s voice sounded in his ear, but
she didn’t sound as though she was talking to any of them. When she said Max’s
name, that
was confirmation that she was having a side
conversation but allowing them to listen in. She’d activated her microphone,
which happened to be in the diamond pendant she was wearing. Trace wasn’t sure
whether that was an accident or not, but he searched the room to see if he
could get eyes on her.

“Hey, Max. Sounds like there’s someone
tryin’ to crash your party,” Courtney said.

“
It’s
bein’
handled,” Max confirmed. “Tell your boys to stand down.”

“As long as you can promise he won’t get
anywhere near Marissa.”

“You’ve got my word on that,” Max assured
her.

Trace had no idea where Courtney and Max
were, and he’d lost sight of Duchein and RT, as well, so he merely moved with
Marissa to the far side of the dance floor near one of the exits.

“What’s goin’ on?” Marissa asked again,
her fingers gripping his arm. “What are we doing?”

“RT, give me a location.”

“Duchein’s on the move. He’s making his
way around the room, keeping to the wall. I’ve got… Shit. I lost him. Copy
that? I’ve lost Duchein.”

Trace swallowed hard, wondering whether
Duchein had planted that distraction so that he could get closer to Marissa.

“Moving in,” Z announced. “Coming to the
back door, Trace. I see you.”

“Roger that.”

Thankfully, Marissa didn’t ask any more
questions as Trace ushered her past the groups of people toward the back door,
his eyes probing the room, trying to find Duchein. He didn’t see the guy anywhere,
nor did he see RT.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Courtney’s voice
sounded in his ear. Clearly she was talking to Max.

“Hold up!”

The booming voice pulled Trace up short,
and he turned, widening his stance and keeping Marissa safely behind him as he
came face-to-face with…

“Well, look there. It’s none other than
Special Agent Dan Duchein. Didn’t know you had an invite to this party,” Trace
said roughly.

“We need to get her out of here,” Duchein
insisted excitedly, his gaze never settling on one thing as he spoke. He tried
to peer around Trace, but Trace merely shifted.

“Her?” Trace asked dumbly.

“Marissa Trexler,” he snarled. “The woman
behind you? I’m here on official business. We got some
intel
that this is a setup. You’ve walked her right into a trap. The Adorites won’t
let her leave here alive.”

Trace didn’t say a word, merely cocked his
head and watched the man who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes still. He was
nervous, fidgety. And that made the hair on the back of Trace’s neck stand on
end.

“Ask him where his backup is?” RT asked in
his ear.

“Where’s your backup?” Trace relayed.

“Two stationed at the front, two at the
back,” Duchein offered, not missing a beat.

“If they are, they’re invisible,” Conner
confirmed in his earpiece.

Duchein took a step closer. “I’m taking
her into protective custody, Kogan. Nothing you can do to stop me.”

Trace squeezed Marissa’s hand, which he
was still holding behind his back, and met the man’s stare, offering him a
feral grin. “Over my dead fucking body,” he growled.

Duchein had the common sense to take a
step back, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t your call. She’s in danger, and
you’re putting her there.”

“You’re the only danger to her, Duchein,”
Trace stated, tired of fucking around.

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” he
retorted, trying to sidestep Trace to get to Marissa.

Trace noticed the man’s professional
demeanor was slipping quickly.

“I’m on your six,” Courtney’s soft voice
whispered in his ear. “I’m escorting Marissa to Z.”

“Confirmed,” Z said.

Trace didn’t move, hoping Marissa was
still hidden behind him enough that Duchein wouldn’t see her slip away. He
needed a distraction, something to keep Duchein from going after Marissa. He
silently willed RT to show up.

“And if you’re not cooperative, I’ll take you
in for hindering a federal investigation,” Duchein declared.

“That so?” Trace asked, lifting his
eyebrows as though he might believe him. He didn’t. Not for a fucking second.

“She’s not safe here, Kogan. Even you
should know that. The Adorites conveniently invited you to this party knowing
she’d come with you. How stupid can you be?”

“Not stupid enough to believe you,” Trace
said when he felt a light tap on his back.

“Courtney’s bringin’ her my way,” Z
confirmed.

“And what? You think I’ve got somethin’ to
do with this?” Duchein barked, laughing. He attempted to peer around Trace, but
Trace moved with him, keeping him from seeing past him.

“You said it, not me,” Trace replied.