Toni tucked the receipt from the coat check into her clutch and gazed across the bustling ballroom. She wasn’t sure what strings the FBI had pulled to get her a ticket, but she wasn’t going to complain.

The black-tie event for the 4Teen Crisis Center sold out every year, bringing in celebrities and their checkbooks. It was invariably one of the premiere events in Las Vegas, which was an accomplishment for any charity event in a city known for its vibrant entertainment. But this year the committee had gone overboard, turning the entire room into a dazzling display of richness. Swarovski crystals glistened in the overhead chandeliers while sheer draperies danced over the ceiling. Bright lights played over them, casting a waltz of color and shadows as a full orchestra played in the back of the room. Tables, surrounded by Las Vegas's elite, courted the peripheries of a dance floor where the beauty and money circulated. Rolex watches, designer clothing, and more diamonds than were part of the British Crown Jewels were on glorious display as Toni eased herself into the room, blending into the crowd in her Prada, introducing herself as Casey Miles.

She observed several famous faces. To her left were two UNLV alumni football stars who'd gone pro and she deliberately avoided them, preferring not to risk getting tripped up on her insufficient knowledge of the campus layout or conversations about acquaintances they might have in common. A professional basketball celebrity known for his wild parties reached for her elbow and dragged her close, inviting her to take a picture with him before inquiring as to whether there was anything she needed signed as he ogled her low-cut gown.

Toni extricated herself from his octopus-like grip wishing she was allowed to throat-punch the guy for being a dick. Skirting the edge of the room where multiple Oscar-winning actors had converged, most surrounded by photographers and fans vying for photo ops and selfies, Toni weaved her way around the dance floor toward the bar. It only took a moment to realize that this was where the upper echelon tried to outshine one another. The booming laughter of financiers and casino owners rolled in waves as they compared portfolios with insurance executives and political leaders, both foreign and domestic. Toni watched them struggling to place her, to guess who she was and why she was here among them. She simply smiled, nodding when people looked her direction.

Which one of you is selling kids overseas as sex slaves?

She mingled with the crowd, trying to get a read on the attendees, but no one stood out more than any other. In truth, any one of them could be the perpetrator. It was a fine line between douche bag and deviant. Jones’s voice in her earpiece, hidden behind her cascading golden waves, wasn’t so hesitant.

“To your left, the Indian man. Divit Gupta, Secretary for the Indian Parliament. We had eyes on him for a murder a year ago but they can't nail it down and he’s still free. Something to do with his diplomatic immunity or some other legal bullshit. The other two are Oliver Bolton of Bolton Financial and Senator Jordan Fitzpatrick. Strike up a conversation and follow where it leads.”

A few strides in her Louboutins had her back to the group as they spoke. Toni eavesdropped for a moment as Bolton laughed as he explained to the other two men how his company recently denied several life insurance policy claims for cancer patients because their medications had been experimental.

“A splendid little loophole no one else has ever discovered, and it's bringing in hundreds of thousands each year,” he chuckled from behind her.

“Well, done, my good man.” The accented voice must belong to Gupta, she reasoned. “That will definitely benefit the cause.”

“I do what I can.”

Toni shifted to view the group better, watching as Bolton glanced at his gold watch, flashing it in a textbook display of preening as Fitzpatrick clapped his shoulder with a quiet laugh. A waiter passed by with a tray of drinks and Toni reached for one, turning and bumping into the senator, spilling her drink over the forearm of his Armani tuxedo.

“Oh! My goodness,” she gushed as she wiped her napkin over his sleeve. “I’m so sorry. The waiter bumped into me and I’m afraid I—Oh!” She gasped, sounding awestruck. “You’re Senator Fitzpatrick.”

“I am, and there’s no need to worry about the tux,” he assured her, smiling politely. “It’s borrowed.”

Toni knew better than to believe him when he cast a surreptitious wink to the men in the group and laughed before invariably eyeing her cleavage. Asshole. Even if he had nothing to do with the trafficking, his actions had elevated him to douche status in her eyes.

A demure smile curving her lips, Toni searched the crowd for another waiter nearby. “Let me see if they have any club soda.”

She waved to get a waiter’s attention before leaning forward over his arm again, the low-cut front of her dress draping forward and giving the men a deliberate display. Their gazes were palpable, but it was the reaction she’d expected.

“I’m so sorry. I—”

“What’s your name, dear?” Senator Fitzpatrick’s meaty palm cupped her elbow, and he drew her a step closer, tipping his head to one side. While his smile looked practiced and patronizing, his gaze was calculating. “You look familiar.”

“Shit!” The hissed curse in her earpiece made her jump. “Tell me your father never introduced him to you.”

Toni didn’t think so. “Casey. Casey Miles. I was a former Miss Las Vegas contestant,” she suggested, hoping he'd believe her. “I also did some modeling. Maybe that’s why.”

She looked at each of them, waiting for them to introduce themselves.

“I'm Oliver Bolton.” The auspicious man held out a hand, squeezing tighter than most men would hold a woman’s hand. His ice blue gaze skimmed her as if evaluating her significance to him but his face showed no emotion, not even contempt, although it was coming off him in waves. Slightly curling his upper lip, he dropped her hand before allowing his gaze to pan the room, searching for an opportunity to talk with someone far more significant than a former model. Obviously, she fell short of his standards. It spoke volumes about his character and she made a mental note to follow up on him.

The handsome dark-skinned man stood to her left and tipped his head, bowing toward her before lifting her fingers to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles. “Good evening.”

His voice was smooth with a faint accent, almost hypnotizing, reminding her of a drug, gliding through her veins, seducing her even as it killed her. His gaze traveled over her like a leisurely caress.

“This is Divit Gupta, of the Indian Parliament,” Senator Fitzpatrick introduced. “He and his wife are here on a working holiday.”

“While I work, my wife is visiting her family,” he said, by way of explanation.

His eyes flashed at the mention of his wife and Toni wondered if his marriage might be on the rocks. She made a mental note to have Jones check on it. Gupta studied her face for a moment before a slow smile spread over his full lips although it didn't quite reach his penetrating dark eyes.

Gupta’s gaze burned into her, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. For the first time in her career, Toni wondered if he'd seen through her and if, somehow, her cover had been compromised. She pushed the thought from her mind, squaring her shoulders and returned his smile with an uneasy laugh.

“I'm so sorry to stare,” he apologized. “But you are lovely. Are you an actress as well?”

Relief washed over her. “No, but thank you for the compliment. I’m only a student at the university.”

“Oh! What are you studying?” He seemed interested, reaching for her elbow as a waiter navigated behind her. “Watch yourself.”

Toni immediately recognized the waiter as another undercover agent. She and Crawford had worked together before but she didn’t realize he’d been assigned to the party. She wondered how many other agents were milling in the crowd. It helped her relax, knowing she was under constant surveillance. As Crawford passed, she set her empty champagne glass on his tray. He paused, allowing her to replace it with a filled one, giving her a slight nod as he moved on to the next group, still lingering where he eavesdropped on their conversation.

Toni turned her attention back to the three men. “I’m a political science major. I hope to follow in your footsteps someday, Senator.” She flashed him a smile that competed with the sparkling chandeliers.

“You’d better watch out, old man. She'll put you out of a job,” Gupta said with a laugh, nudging the senator with his elbow. “She’s far prettier than you are and wouldn’t have to bribe people to get her way.”

“Bribe?” Fitzpatrick let loose with a pompous guffaw. “There is no need to bribe anyone when you make sure you stay on the winning side. Eh, Bolton?”

“What?” That icy gaze slid back over them and he shot the group a supercilious scowl. “I suppose. If you will excuse me.”

Toni wondered at the man’s casual dismissal and lay a hand on the senator’s arm, ignoring Bolton. “You do seem to be on the right side most of the time, Senator. What’s your secret?”

A flicker of distrust pass over his face before he shot her a cavalier grin. “It’s easy when you do what’s best for your constituents. Keep their best interests at heart and you can never go wrong.”

It was the most disingenuous statement Toni had ever heard, but she didn't see the point in pressing him for details about something that had nothing to do with her case. She looked from him to Gupta again. Bolton had already turned his attention to a man behind them.

“It’s incredible that two men of your stature are here to support at-risk teens.”

For a moment, they both looked taken aback and Gupta appeared confused, but it was the senator who recovered for them both. His attention turned to a regal looking woman walking past their group.

“Yes, well, these kids deserve a second chance at a future, don’t you agree, Divit? This is the woman we should be celebrating.” He held a hand out to the woman with a broad grin, looking like a Cheshire cat. “Monique, have you met Casey Miles?”

The woman stopped, a mesmerizing smile planted over her perfectly painted lips as she turned to greet her guests. “I have not. It’s a pleasure, Ms. Miles. And, Mr. Gupta, so good to see you again. Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“Monique Bentley,” Jones’s voice chimed in her ear. “She’s the head of the 4Teen Center. Her father was the founder, and she took control over after he retired to some providence in Europe. I’ll have to double-check where.”

“I am.”

It didn’t pass Toni’s notice that Gupta didn’t greet Monique the way he had her, shaking her hand instead.

He sees her as a colleague.

“As a matter of fact, I was just admiring Ms. Miles’…political aspirations,” he said, the pause in his sentence pregnant with innuendo.

Toni’s attention shifted from Ms. Bentley back to the man standing across from her. She found him staring at her chest, his eyes as predatory as a hungry wolf. He smiled as his gaze lifted, meeting hers, more ferocious than friendly.

“I’d love to. My thesis is about the long-term effects of abusive relationships on teens. I would love to know your thoughts on the topic, especially as it pertains to your experience with the teens here.”

“Of course. It’s so important for these teens to have a voice. I'm available tomorrow if you'd like to come by then. Perhaps a date when you would be available to speak to some of the girls about setting life goals. It's so helpful when they find out about other successful, young women. It gives them aspirations of their own.”

She glimpsed someone trying to get her attention near the stage and waved back. “I'm so sorry to rush off but they need me on-stage. If you'll excuse me.”

Toni was more than a little surprised by the invitation. They wouldn’t be so open to visitors if they had anything to hide, but she needed to rule out everyone. Just because Monique wasn’t a suspect, didn’t mean that someone else at the facility couldn't be involved.

An unexpected shiver skittered down her spine, surprising her, and she fought the urge to rub her hands over her bare arms. There was only one person who did this.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I assume you’re enjoying yourselves as much as I am.”

Toni jumped as Leo stepped up, beside her, leaning forward to shake hands with both men, his chest brushing against her arm sending a jolt of longing through her.

“Detective,” the senator nodded, his mouth pinched into a thin line. It was easy to see he wasn't thrilled to run into Leo at the party and Toni wondered what sort of history they had. “I’m surprised you're here tonight. I know you’ve been inquiring on several missing person cases.”

“Yes, well, I’m here mixing business with pleasure, Senator.”

Fitzpatrick grunted, rolling his eyes at Leo before turning to Gupta. “Mr. Gupta, Miss Miles, this is Detective Castellano, one of LVMPD’s finest.”

Leo laughed and was sure neither she nor Gupta missed the sneer in the senator’s voice.

“Mr. Gupta.” Leo tipped his head toward the other man respectfully before turning toward her.

“Miss Miles.”

His voice was smooth yet rugged, like warmed whiskey. It sounded the way it did after they made love and Toni’s body responded to the thought in a way she’d never been able to hide. Her nipples pebbled beneath the satin of her dress. It was impossible for her to stand beside him and not feel the heat burning between her thighs, the rush of desire filling her. Leo’s gaze on her was hungry, but not in the way Gupta’s had been. His eyes glowed from within, warm and seductive, and they drew her in. Even with her many years of training, being this close to him caused a visceral reaction in her.

“If you gentlemen would excuse me, I should go find my date.” Her tone was carefully schooled, but Leo arched a dubious brow, an inquisitive smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Detective.”

She waved a hand at a crowd of men across the room. The shadows playing in the corner of the room masked their identities, nor would they recognize her from this distance, but it didn’t matter. She just needed someone to wave back so she could make her escape. One man hesitantly obliged. Amidst murmured goodbyes, she took her leave but, even with her back to them, she didn’t miss the senator’s quiet laughter.

“Admiring her ass-pirations, Divit? Like you're the only one here thinking that. Am I right, Detective?”

Leo’s fury came off him in tidal waves and it took every bit of Toni's self-control not to take pleasure in his jealousy.

* * *

Leo watched Toni walking away from their small group, the crimson satin dress clinging to her torso like a second skin, hugging every dangerous curve. He knew why she was here and he wasn’t going to blow her cover, but he had to get close to her. In spite of their argument, he needed her to understand he was near and had her back. If he hadn’t been so pissed off at the prospect of her undermining his case, he’d have followed her out of the ballroom and dragged her home. He was almost one-hundred percent sure his department had called the FBI in which meant she was on the same case. At least, until the FBI claimed jurisdiction and took it from him.

There's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Jealous rage boiled up inside him at the senator’s comment making his stomach twist and knot as he fought to keep from jamming his fist down the man’s throat. He was a pig and listening to him demean Toni made Leo wish he’d been mic’d up so the rest of the world could hear first-hand what a misogynist the man was. Instead, Leo grit his teeth together so soundly that he felt his jaw creak.

“Excuse me,” he ground out. “I must have a word with Miss Bentley.” He dipped his head toward the pair in a show of respect he didn’t feel before making his exit.

Leo didn’t wait around to hear what else the pair might say. He didn’t dare because chances were high, if they made another remark about Toni’s ass, he would shoot one or the other. An arrest for the murder of a foreign dignitary, regardless of how justified he might feel, wouldn't help his case or his career. Rushing to the stage, he caught Monique Bentley’s arm as she stepped on the edge of the staircase. Leo bent forward, automatically covering the microphone in her hand with his own.

“I understand it's unlikely you have a chance to talk with me tonight, but I would like to stop by in the morning to discuss the matter of a missing teen with you.”

“Is this about the missing girl I saw on the news earlier?”

“How’d you know?” As far as he could tell, the first two girls had had no contact with Monique or the 4Teen Center but, after his interview with Craig Wilson, he wanted to rule it out any connection Megan might have had with it. There was a good chance the man was trying to cover his ass but Leo couldn’t ignore a lead, no matter how far-fetched.

“Educated guess.” Monique shrugged a graceful shoulder. “I don’t think I have anything helpful to add but I’m happy to cooperate and tell you what I remember in hopes that it will help locate her. Will ten tomorrow morning work?”

“Perfect.”

Monique gave him a curt nod and slid on the stage, welcoming her party-goers and charming them within moments. Leo took the opportunity to sneak out the side door and follow Toni. He ran to the front of the building, he couldn't see Toni but he spotted the surveillance van a little more than a block down the street.

Not exactly covert, guys.

A flash of red under the glaring parking lot lights caught his attention. It was Toni, walking toward her black Mercedes, a coat draped over her arm. Even with her back to him, Leo had no doubt it was her. There was no mistaking the supple curve of her exposed back, or the way her slender hips swayed with grace as she bent her knee and moved to adjust the strap of one high-heeled shoe. He dashed across the blacktop, mindful not to sneak up on her. As he approached, he reached a hand to her shoulder.

“Ton—”

With a swift twist, she jammed the stiletto heel of her shoe into the top of his foot. “Ow! Son of a bitch!”

Leo dropped toward his injured foot as Toni rose, whirling toward him and grasping for the lapel of his jacket.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. It was an accident.” In the faint overhead lights of the parking lot, they met halfway between squatting and standing. She wasn’t repentant at all. She was glowering at him.

“I think you broke it,” he complained as he hobbled backward.

“Oh, you poor man. Let me take you to the doctor.”

Her words sounded compassionate, but the look on her face was one of pure fury. She pressed a finger to her ear where he realized she must have a wireless earpiece hidden.

“Okay,” she murmured, before looking back at him. “Get in the car,” Toni ordered, her voice curt.

“My car is over there. I think I can manage.” He glanced up as a couple, laughing brightly as they left the hotel, headed toward them in the parking lot.

Toni jerked a key fob from her clutch and pressed the button. The chirp of the alarm system was shrill contrasting with the muffled sounds of the party inside the ballroom. The couple still wandered in the parking lot, trying to locate their car, and she narrowed her eyes at him as she ground out her words again.

“Get in the car.”

He wanted to laugh at how over-dramatic she was being about this situation. What the hell was she so angry about. Because they were both at the same charity event, at the same time? If anyone had a right to be mad, it was him. Not only was she going back on the arrangement they’d made years ago but she was stealing his case, without giving him any kind of heads-up. Unless that’s why she wanted him in the car.

“Fine.” He scowled back at her. “But we will have a long conversation about this.”

Toni rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Just get your ass in the car.”

She slid behind the driver’s seat as he limped around to the other side of the car, praying she didn’t run him over before he slid inside. Leo dropped into the passenger seat, watching as she twisted the key in the ignition and the engine purred to life, warm air blasting him from the vents as he buckled the seat belt.

A frown, made more noticeable in the shadows from the lights, seemed melodramatic for what the situation warranted. She’d take over the case, and he’d get over it. It wasn’t her fault; she was following orders. The same way he would have. He might not like it but he didn’t like to see her worrying. Not about him, or his career.

“Promise you’ll be gentle with me.”

He was attempting to lighten the mood but when she slid an outraged look his direction, he realized he’d failed. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t kick your ass, Detective.”

He couldn’t help the curl of desire that licked at him, or the rumble of laughter that slipped past his lips. “You forget that I remember that’s just foreplay for you.”

Her jaw clamped shut, the muscle twitching as she dropped the car into reverse and jammed her foot against the gas pedal, squealing the tires as she sped out of the parking lot.

This was the Toni he loved and cherished. Fierce and passionate, holding nothing back. Now, he hoped he could get away unscathed from the verbal lashing coming when they got back to where ever she was taking him. He half-heartedly prayed it wasn’t the morgue.