Impossible Odds: Rescue Team Nine

Chapter 29

Dice

It was a mistake walking away from her. What made me think I could forget the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty in my arms? No woman after her has ever been able to complete me or give me the release I'm experiencing right now. I stare at her and hope my eyes show what my heart hasn't been able to. She's even more gorgeous when she lets go. The way her face flushes and the way her eyes glow. And the way she screams my name. That's my undoing. My release follows hers, and I'm sure I'll never be the same again. There's no match. None. This is where I belong. Screw my father. Screw every last person who has made me feel inferior. I am a hero in her world, and that's all that matters to me.

It takes several minutes for us to catch our breath, and I make no move to release her. Instead, I lean over and touch my forehead to hers. "Don't touch the wine. When Dalton and Les aren't looking, pour it into my cup. Understand?"

She nods, and I put her down. After helping her adjust her clothing and righting my own, I run a hand through my hair. It's a habit I've developed when I'm worried or frustrated.

"Damn it, Cloey. I won't let them hurt you. I'll let you have your confrontation, but have a little faith in me."

I need an affirmation that she'll allow me to care for her. She's quiet for a minute before she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and that's all the answer I need.

"You think they'll mind that we're fashionably late?"

I return her smile with a wicked one of my own. "Who the hell cares? Want to do that again?"

I lean over to grab her dress, but she swats my hand away.

"Watch it, lover boy. We have a madman to catch."

___________________________________

Walking down the hallway toward our rooms, I glance back in dismay. Keeping Cloey safe had proven to be a tall order. It didn't take long before my brother realized that something wasn't working in his favor. Cloey wasn't acting the least bit fazed. His plan was no longer working. This only infuriated Dalton, whose competitive streak wouldn't allow him to lose—the rest of the night resembled a chess match. We each played masterfully. I was prepared whenever Dalton tried to switch Cloey's wine glass. I will forever be grateful for those long nights Ambrose would challenge me at the game. It was after I'd intercepted one of my brother's moves when my parents announced they would throw an engagement ball for me and my bride-to-be. This surprise attack stopped the game long enough for the news to be absorbed. The shock was evident on everyone's faces. But in the end, I shouldn't have been surprised. It's a save-face for my parents. They can't afford another mark on their otherwise perfect social card. My father won't admit it, but his success in the political field is starting to dwindle among the rumor mill. He needs the charity vibe to resurrect his career. The son they want to forget is now in a starring role. And it's not a role I want.

The distraction almost worked in Dalton's favor. Only seconds remained when I realized my brother had made another switch. Moving quickly, I replaced Cloey's cup with Faith's. Gunner promised to fill in our new partner. It would have worked beautifully, too. I was in checkmate until the family made a toast to me and my fiancée, and I watched in horror as Faith downed the contents of her cup.

It took a little while for the drug to take effect. I'm guessing her size over Cloey's played a factor in that. Now, the pretty redhead seems as far away from us as possible. Whatever world she's conjured up for her amusement appears to make her content.

"Will you look at that?" She points to some mysterious object on the wall before breaking out in uncontrollable laughter. Stepping forward, she tries to touch said object but fails miserably. Gunner barely manages to catch her before she takes them both to the floor in one giant heap.