CHAPTER 5
Another round of security checks waited for them inside, although the guards posted in the opulent foyer were garbed more discreetly than their counterparts manning the main gate. Aric nodded to the men in black suits and wireless earpieces, noting without reaction that each carried a sidearm holstered beneath the smoothly pressed fall of his jacket.
Kaya’s steps slowed as they entered, her gaze drawn to the urns overflowing with fragrant ivory flowers and lush greenery. Garlands festooned with champagne-colored ribbons and delicate lace dripped like gilded froth from the curving bannisters of the foyer’s twin stairwells.
“Look at this place,” she murmured. “It’s incredible.”
“This way, if you would, please, ma’am,” one of the guards said to Kaya. The muscular, red-haired man gestured toward the metal detectors and full body scanners temporarily erected in the elegant entry of the Rousseau mansion.
Aric lingered behind her as she placed her small handbag on the conveyor then glided through the gauntlet of cold machinery, a vision in shimmering, diaphanous blush-colored silk. His veins throbbed as he watched her graceful, unrushed gait, his blood still pounding from the aftershocks of that impulsive kiss.
To say nothing of the rest of his anatomy.
Kissing her had not been in the playbook for this mission, but once the idea took root in his mind, there had been no ignoring it. Yes, he’d done it for the good of their cover, as a means of breaking the ice between him and the fake Mrs. Bouchard. But now she had regrouped flawlessly and he was the one knocked off his game.
Damn.
So not what he’d intended.
It took concentrated control to keep his body’s reaction in check. His fangs ached to punch out of his gums. All over him, his dermaglyphs prickled to life in response to watching Kaya while the memory of their kiss still scorched his lips.
Desire tinged his vision with the first hints of amber as she raised her arms and waited for the scanner to clear her for passage. The stretch lifted her already buoyant breasts and thinned her slender waist to an hourglass curve that made his hands itch to be wrapped around it.
He groaned low under his breath. It wouldn’t take more than a backward glance from her now to transform his irises from gold-flecked green to an unearthly molten glow.
He’d better check himself fast, or he was going to blow this operation before it even began. Nothing like turning full-on Breed to put the brakes on a gathering of perfumed and powdered humans.
“Sir?” The guard standing beside him in the foyer gave him an expectant look. “Please, step forward and proceed to the scanner.”
“Oh.” Aric cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
He followed the path Kaya had taken before him, then joined her where she waited on the other side of the machines. With the stern discipline of his warrior training, he somehow managed to tamp down the Breed side of his nature by the time he and Kaya approached the short line of attendees being greeted personally by the bride’s parents.
Anastasia Rousseau’s father took hold of Aric’s hand and gave it a couple of perfunctory pumps as soon as he released the previous guest. “Good afternoon and welcome.”
“Thank you, sir.” Aric nodded to the gray-haired billionaire and smiled at his immaculately preserved wife. “Congratulations on a beautiful day. Elizabeth and I couldn’t be happier for Stasi.”
“How kind. Thank you.” Mrs. Rousseau’s fine brows rose on her unlined face. “Are you a friend of our daughter’s?”
“Stasi and I went to university together for a while,” Aric said, putting Gideon’s cover dossier to good use as he shook the elder woman’s hand. “I’m William Bouchard. Er, Will. And this is my bride, Elizabeth.”
Mrs. Rousseau smiled warmly. “How do you do, dear?”
“Fine, thank you. Everything looks so beautiful in here, Mrs. Rousseau,” Kaya said, not missing a beat as she shook the woman’s hand. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done outside for the reception.”
“Why, thank you, my dear. I do enjoy dabbling.”
“You do a bit more than dabble,” Kaya pointed out. “Congratulations on your interior design award last month. The magazine couldn’t have chosen a more deserving recipient.”
“What a lovely thing to say.” The bride’s mother beamed. “How wonderful that you both could make it today. I’m sure Anastasia will be delighted.”
The old man smiled, too, but he studied Aric longer than he had the other guests ahead of him. “Was it McGill you said you attended with her, son?”
“No, sir. UBC. It was my grandfather’s alma mater as well.” He tilted a wry look at Phillipe Rousseau. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but your father the Prime Minister and my grandfather were rivals on the soccer field in their day.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir, I’m afraid it is.” Aric grinned through the lie, thankful for the depth of Gideon’s research. “I hope you won’t hold that against me now.”
“Not at all.” The bride’s father chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Go on and enjoy the reception, both of you.”
“With pleasure, sir.”
Grinning, he took Kaya’s hand and led her away from the Rousseaus. Now that the seeds of their social groundwork had been laid, they had some time to scope out the terrain they’d be working once the reception was under way.
“Go easy on the flattery,” he murmured as they walked toward the French doors opened to the estate’s gardens. No one else was in hearing distance of him, but he was careful to keep his voice low enough for Kaya’s ears only. “It was a nice touch to mention the award, but you don’t want to be too memorable. Not that you can do much to avoid that.”
She let his backhanded compliment pass without acknowledgment. “It wasn’t flattery. Margaret Rousseau really is a talented interior designer. Her work has been on a dozen magazine covers and this most recent award was for a project she contributed to a children’s charity organization.”
Aric grunted. “Someone did their homework last night.”
She slanted him a haughty look. “I stayed up most of the night poring over Gideon’s notes. I must’ve read everything twenty times, just to make sure I wouldn’t forget even the smallest detail.”
He shrugged. “I only read the files once.”
“You can’t be serious.” Kaya stopped short and frowned at him, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “That’s either incredibly arrogant or dangerously stupid.”
He shook his head. “Genetically gifted. I’ve got an eidetic and photographic memory. If I read something or see it once, I can recall it perfectly anytime.”
She gaped mutely for a moment, then expelled a sharp breath. “Have you ever struggled over a single thing in all your life?”
“Not really.”
She rolled her eyes at his unrepentant grin. “How nice for you.”
He chuckled. “So I hit the gene pool lottery. Do you want me to apologize for that fact?”
“I don’t want you to do anything--other than not screw this up for me today.”
She started walking again and he fell in beside her. “You don’t have to worry about me, sweetheart. You and I share the same goal. I want it too badly to let it slip through my fingers.”
“So do I.”
“Good,” he said. “Then I guess we’re agreed.”
“On one thing, at least.”
They stepped through the open French doors and into the full heat of the brilliant noontime sun. Broad marble steps spilled down onto the back lawn of the mansion’s grounds like a carpet made of gleaming stone. Tables and chairs dressed up in white cloth and floral garlands peppered the thick green grass and surrounding gardens, each arranged for optimal view of the immense limestone pavilion that was the pearly jewel at the heart of the magnificent grounds.
Under the soaring dome roof, a tuxedoed twelve-piece orchestra played Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtsmusik” for an empty dance floor and what was easily hundreds of arriving reception guests. Aric and Kaya descended the steps together and were immediately greeted by one of many circulating waitstaff carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Being Breed, Aric could consume neither beyond a taste or two, but Kaya eagerly accepted one of the slender flutes.
With her glass in hand, they strolled over the soft lawn. They found a quiet spot of their own to observe the gathering and wait for the moment their target arrived. Aric scanned the hundreds of guests, silently taking stock of the faces. He was intent on his task, but he couldn’t dismiss the weight of Kaya’s brown eyes studying him over the rim of her glass.
He frowned. “What’s the matter?”
She took a sip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Just making sure you’re not going to start sizzling out here in the sun.”
His brows shot up. “Was that a joke? Why, Mrs. Bouchard, I had no idea you cared.”
She laughed, then raised the flute to her lips once more. “You’re an ass.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” Aric replied, watching with far too much thirst of his own as her delicate throat worked to swallow another sip of champagne.
She caught him staring and a flush of pink swept across her cheeks. She pressed the back of her free hand against the rising color in her face. “It does seem awfully warm out here. Maybe we should find you some shade while we wait for the happy couple to arrive.”
“Trust me, I can take the heat if you can.” He smirked when her chin lifted in defiance. “Besides,” he added, “I never squander the chance to enjoy a gorgeous day. I know too many others who can’t ever experience this gift for me to take it for granted.”
Kaya tilted her head at him, a skeptical look on her pretty face. “Empathy? That’s an unexpected twist.”
He grunted. “Hey, I may be an arrogant asshole with more blessings than I’ll ever deserve, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have enough self-awareness to recognize something extraordinary. Especially when I’m looking right at it.”
Whatever sharp retort she’d been meaning to deliver faded into silence as she blinked up at him, her gaze softening on him for the first time since they’d met.
Aric realized only now how close they stood to each other on the grass. No one to hear them, no one to intrude on them despite the sea of people milling about in all directions.
He took a breath and his senses filled with Kaya’s enticing scent, a mixture of cinnamon and roses and something more elusive. Sunshine warmed her skin and dark hair, which only intensified the fragrance that was uniquely hers. Every Breedmate had her own blood scent, and Kaya’s was wreaking havoc on Aric’s focus and control.
It wasn’t as if he was hungered for female company. He was far from a saint, but he made it a practice to avoid intimate entanglements with women bearing the teardrop-and-crescent-moon birthmark of a Breedmate. If he needed a reminder of why he kept his appetites confined to human women only, Kaya Laurent was it.
Even so, the urge to touch her was nearly overwhelming.
More tempting was the desire to kiss her again, though if he did that now, it would have nothing to do with their mission or the effort to fortify their covers.
No, if he touched her, it would be for purely selfish reasons.
And because the silent invitation in her eyes told him that she was feeling the same crackle of arousal too.
Aric swallowed on a dry throat as he fought to keep his hands fisted and still at his sides.
He couldn’t think of a worse idea than letting his attraction to Kaya overshadow his attention to their assignment. Regardless, he was on the verge of losing that argument with himself when a cheer suddenly went up from the gathered crowd.
Kaya sucked in a shallow gasp, though whether in reaction to the abrupt clamor of excitement from all around them or from relief over the timeliness of the interruption, Aric couldn’t be sure.
He swiveled away from her, adding his wooden applause to the enthusiastic greeting the newlyweds were receiving as they emerged at the top of the marble steps. Their golden-haired target, Stephan Mercier, kissed his bride to the delighted shouts of the onlookers. The groom earned an even greater cheer when he bent his beautiful bride over his arm and swept her into a smooth, swoon-worthy dip.
Aric groaned, hardly able to stifle his disdain for the suspected Opus sympathizer. Kaya, too, wore an expression of cold business as she watched the happy couple descend the stairs hand-in-hand while the orchestra segued from garden music to a jaunty rendition of the “Wedding March”.
Aric slid a glance at his partner. “Game on. You ready?”
She nodded, her smile as dazzling as it was determined. “Let’s do this.”