Then Ash arrived so there wasn’t even the possibility of ducking into the bathroom again.
I could hear him moving around in his bedroom, dressing in the tuxedo Ash brought him. I had to say, I was looking forward to seeing him in it. Not that he didn’t fill out a pair of jeans quite well. But some men look amazingly good in casual and formal clothing. I was pretty sure Donovan would be one of those.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath as I missed the line of my bottom lid. I carefully wiped away the makeup and started again, beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get it done.
He had a scar on his back, above his hip. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. When I remembered the Purple Heart in his bedroom, it frightened me. What or who hurt him? And how close had he come to death? I overheard someone mention that he worked with explosives over there in Afghanistan. Had something gone wrong? Or had someone tried to stop him from making something go right?
I was afraid to know. That’s why I hadn’t asked.
How would I deal with the knowledge that I’d almost lost him before I finally understood that I needed him?
I drew down my bottom eyelid with a shaking finger and tried to draw the line again, but again I screwed it up.
“Damn it!” I cried, throwing the eyeliner pencil at the mirror.
A slight woman dressed in a dark suit suddenly appeared behind me. I jumped, swallowing a scream as I realized she was the female operative I’d seen at the Gray Wolf compound yesterday. She pointed to the pencil and then at herself.
She wanted to help.
I nodded and stepped aside as she reached for the pencil. She gently pushed on my shoulder, settling me on the edge of the counter at almost the same spot Donovan had…well, she settled me down and moved close enough that I could see the green specks in her blue eyes as she carefully fixed my makeup. Not only did she apply the eyeliner, but she adjust the shadow I’d put on my lids and chose a shade of lipstick that she carefully applied, making a pucker face my mom made when she taught me how to apply lipstick.
“Thank you.”
She inclined her head and smiled.
I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, more than satisfied with the image that looked back at me. I was wearing a simple black shift that I bought weeks ago that someone had thoughtfully gotten from my closet at home, my hair pulled back into a simple French knot that I’d perfected from watching YouTube videos when I joined the workforce. My makeup was simple but sophisticated, thanks to this small woman.
“Your name is Joss, right?”
She nodded.
“You don’t talk much.”
She shrugged as though to say there wasn’t much to say.
I studied her face for a minute, then nodded myself.
“You’ve probably got it right. It’s the rest of us who are still trying to figure it out.”
She gave me a thumbs-up with a sweet, crooked grin. Then she gestured toward the door.
Time to go.
They were all there in the living room. Ash in dark clothes not unlike Joss’. Kirkland in jeans and a dark leather jacket, that charming smile permanently affixed to his face. And Donovan.
Dapper was probably the word my father would have used for how Donovan looked. I would have said drop-dead sexy. The tux looked like it was made for him, the way it fit his broad shoulders and thick arms almost perfectly. The jacket accentuated those broad shoulders and still managed to emphasize his narrow hips. And the high collar was exactly Donovan’s personality. No tie, but formal enough to still look right.
“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes moving slowly over me. And when our eyes met, we were the only ones in the room for that brief second.
“Okay, soldiers, let’s go over this one more time,” Ash demanded.
I wanted to slap him. Or make him disappear.
“Joss will drive you to the hotel. You are not to make any detour, no stops anywhere but the hotel parking lot.”
Joss nodded.
“Then Kirkland and I will be stationed inside the ballroom. Joss will take up a position by the back door. And we’ll have a team scattered throughout the hotel.”
Ash focused on me then, holding up a smartphone. “This is connected directly to David’s program. If you find yourself in trouble for some reason and you cannot identify a member of our team, you push this button,” he said, brushing his thumb over the home button at the bottom of the phone. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He studied my face for a second, then handed me the phone. “Keep it on you at all times.”
“Wouldn’t think of putting it down.”
Ash stepped back and studied each of us, one at a time, his eyes lingering on Donovan.