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Her phone vibrated with a text from Jared right as she opened her camera app.
Meet me up front.
The hair on the back of Lachlan’s neck quivered. He glanced to his right. Had that been a flash of dark red hair next to one of the display walls?
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, pulling his attention back to Lucas. The other man’s concerned expression set Lachlan’s teeth on edge. “I’ll do some digging, see what I find out. But you need to stay out of it. You’ve got a good job here in the States, a fresh start. Don’t let the past drag you under.” Lucas drained his glass and left, moving into the exhibit space, and disappearing.
Lachlan finished his drink, the ice clinking against the empty glass. He’d love nothing more than to have another, but he needed to be clearheaded enough to drive home. That and experience had taught him that too much whisky opened the door for his nightmares to slip through. He spied one of the roving servers hovering on the edge of the exhibition and went to hand off his glass.
She’d have to snap off a quick shot. Sophia peered around the wall again, camera app open and ready.
Lachlan and the other man were gone.
Darn it.She’d lost her opportunity. And she would pretend she wasn’t a tiny bit relieved that she hadn’t snapped that photo and sent it to the admiral. Her brain kept shying away from the notion that Admiral Dane might be right about Lachlan. It didn’t square with what she knew of him, which, admittedly, wasn’t much. She was going off feelings, not proof.
Her shoulders drooped. She’d better not keep her boss waiting.
Jared stood near the front entrance, scanning the crowd with an impatient expression. When their gazes locked, he waved her over. “Congressman Mitchell has asked me to meet up with him. Would it be too much for you to get an Uber? I’ll reimburse you for the trip.”
“Don’t you think I should go with you?” She was the director of legislative affairs, after all. Building relationships with members of Congress and their key staff was part of her job.
Jared gave her a bland smile. “The venue isn’t one where I think you’d be comfortable and not one where the congressman would like to be seen.”
Eeeww. Translation: the married congressman was at what was euphemistically called a “gentlemen’s club” or something equally as tawdry. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she chose discretion. “I’m happy to stay and enjoy the art, and I can get myself home.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Jared leaned in and kissed her cheek. The unexpected gesture caught her off guard, and she stiffened. Before she could recover, he was striding through the glass doors.
“Miss, would you care for another?” A black-clad server stared pointedly at her empty glass.
“Why not.” A refill wouldn’t hurt—she wasn’t driving after all. She carefully placed her empty on the waiter’s small round tray and picked a fresh one. She strolled around, her gaze frequently leaving the art to canvas the crowd, looking for a tall man with black hair. Lachlan was probably gone by now.
Or not.
There he stood, conversing with the Scottish artist in the tweed jacket.
Should she go over or pretend she didn’t see him? Indecision kept her immobile.
This is ridiculous. She’d come tonight hoping he’d be here so she could get to know him better and gain his trust.Remember the Afghan women and children.
Taking another swig of wine for courage, she bobbed and weaved through the crowd, never taking her eyes off her prize. Lachlan’s back was to her so she could catch him unawares. He wouldn’t have time to school his expression. Would he look guilty, like someone who’d just had a clandestine meeting with his accomplice?
The Scottish artist conversing with Lachlan noticed her approach and sent her a warm smile before saying something to Lachlan. Suddenly, she found herself staring into a pair of emerald eyes that didn’t look the slightest bit welcoming.
Lachlan was replying to MacLeod’s question about living in the States when the artist’s gaze veered past him, and a sunny smile broke out on his weathered face. He turned to see what had captured the older man’s attention.
And met a pair of hazel eyes he recognized all too well.
Sophia.Shewashere. His shoulders tightened. Had she seen him with Lucas? If she had, she might ask questions he had no intention of answering.
Her hips swayed gently in a black dress that hugged the lines of her body, bared her shoulders, and gave him a tantalizing view of toned legs.
And those black and red heels.
Lust punched him in the gut and shot provocative images into his brain. His lips caressing the exposed skin of her neckline, his hands molding her curves. Her wearing nothing but those shoes. His mouth went dry. He shifted to try and accommodate the sudden bulge in his trousers.
The woman was a danger to his sanity and a distraction he could ill afford.
“Why are you here?” The question left his lips in a harsh rasp as he struggled to bring his unruly thoughts under control. He could feel MacLeod’s frown of disapproval.