Page 52 of Reckless Seduction
Good times.
There is one difference between us, though. Ava found a family that cares for her. That wants her, while I am still nothingmore than a tool to be used until my uselessness becomes inevitable.
“Ava’s job is to mingle and point out the people she’s seen with Elias,” he continues. “Your job is to slip us the information from the computer.”
Wonderful.
“The gala serves two purposes,” he tells me. “The first is to bring the most powerful and corrupt people together under one roof for what appears to be a good cause. The second is, during that time, those who are entering goods into the auction will have a chance to drum up interest with bidders and sellers.”
Well, that sounds positively wretched.
“How will Kiernan know who the other sellers are?” I ask.
Seamus points to a small blue lapel pin on the board with a black dahlia in the center.
“This identifies sellers, and this one,” he points to another pin that is red with a blue rose, “identifies bidders. If they’re wearing both pins, they are entered as both.”
“How are we going to get me to the auction?” I ask. “Once I go back home, I’m going to be watched like a hawk.”
Seamus smirks.
“We’re going to kidnap you,” he pauses. “Again.”
I snort. “Good luck with that.”
“We have a plan,” he admits with a shrug. “It’s a bit of a wibbly-wobbly plan, but there are a lot of variables we can’t account for. The one thing we can account for, however, is having an exit plan in place in case things go south.
“We’ll all be wearing wireless communication devices that can’t be tracked.” With a hand on my lower back, Seamus steers me toward a small table in the corner. He picks up a small earpiece and shows it to me. “They can’t be tracked or traced or detected. They work off the vibrations in your jaw. All you have to do is speak, and we’ll hear you. We’re going to sew thisinto the clothes we send you home in to ensure we have open communication with you.”
“Cool.” Now that is some James Bond technology right there.
“If for any reason you find that things are going south with your father, your code word is whiskey.” He smirks at me. “Thought you might like that.”
I wrinkle my nose in distaste.
Whiskey and I aren’t friends any longer.
Tequila is going to be my new best friend. It doesn’t get me kidnapped.
“Okay.” I nod. “Code word whiskey. Don’t get caught. Now what?”
Seamus’s smirk darkens.
“Now we get sweaty.”
Sweaty?
Wait, what?
Seamus’s kind of sweaty is no fucking fun.
The bastard grins from ear to ear like he is about to get lucky, and if he gets lucky, I get lucky. With multiple orgasms.
Instead, he leads me to a room full of mats and tells me to take off my shoes and socks. I count my blessings that he doesn’t have a hidden foot fetish that no one knows about. Seamus ushers me to the middle of the mats, where he outlines some basic defensive tactics, playing offense to my defense.
I try really hard to concentrate on what he is saying and not on the fact that his hands are roaming all over my body. God’s honest truth. Except, it is easier said than done when every time he touches me, I swear I feel a sizzle on my skin.
This is hell.
