Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(96)

A strained breath strangled out of Cat. Good Lord, she was jumpy...and ill at ease. The largest part of her discomfort was due to the senator. But the rest had to do with her general unease at large formal functions.

Despite the beautiful outfit Sahara had provided and the finishing touches given to her hair, nails and makeup, she still felt like a fraud.

Yes, she was as polished as any other woman there, but none of it fit her, not the real her.

Ideally she’d have done her own hair and makeup, but in order to better match Sahara, she’d given in to the professional stylist.

Currently, Sahara wore a red gown.

None of this would have worked if they’d entered the party in the same blue dress. But any minute now Sahara would excuse herself, change into the dress, shoes and jewelry that matched Cat’s, and then they’d wait for a murderer to strike.

When the senator suddenly locked eyes with Cat, it was all she could do to hide her loathing and abhorrence.

Especially when he excused himself from the other guests and started toward her with the two guards following close behind. The thumping of her heart drowned out all other noise. Cat did her best not to look at Leese. He saw it all, of course, but this would work better if the senator remained unaware of the net closing in.

When Platt got close enough, he reached for her hand.

Cat snatched it away. Touching him? No, that she couldn’t do.

“Catalina,” he chided in his soft, grandfather’s voice. He glanced at the guards and they turned their backs, watching the crowd, ensuring privacy.

“I haven’t told anyone,” Cat lied in a whisper.

“Of course not.” His slick smile made her stomach roil. “There’s nothing for you to tell, now is there?”

Pig, she thought inwardly, but outwardly, she only whispered, “No.”

For only a second, the pretense of “sweet elderly man” slipped, showing the sick, deviant freak. “You need to return to your father.”

With just the right quaver in her voice, Cat said, “Not until I know I won’t be hurt.”

“Hurt by whom?” He eased nearer, crowding her personal space. “Sweet child, tell me what you’re afraid of and I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

Pure menace glittered in his eyes as he stared into her soul. Cat swallowed, trying to think with him staring so hard. “Tesh.”

“Ah, yes. He was ruthless, wasn’t he? Necessary. Very necessary.”

Was? She went on high alert. Had the senator done away with Tesh?

As if confiding in her, Platt said, “There are those people who would use my public stature against me.”

Anger outpaced fear and she asked recklessly, “Like Georgia Bell?”

His face pinched. Through lips that barely moved, he said, “I have no idea who that is.”

Realization of what she’d just done sent a flush of panicked heat rolling through Cat, leaving her faint. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I shouldn’t have...” Stick to the plan, Cat. “I need to go.”

“You don’t need to fear Tesh any longer,” he promised her. “Our association has...ended.”

If he’d killed Tesh, that would be one fewer person for her to worry about.

Rather than risk asking questions, she turned away—and his cold thin fingers clamped around her wrist with crushing insistence. When he spoke, she felt his damp breath on her temple and smelled the shrimp hors d’oeuvres he’d eaten.

Her stomach lurched.

“My child, you have tried my patience enough. You either head home to your father tonight, or you’re going to start losing loved ones.” His grip tightened more. “Is that clear?”

No longer caring if she caused a scene, Cat jerked free and faced him again, doing her own fair share of crowding. “Who are you threatening?” she demanded to know. “Webb?” The laugh sounded close to a choke, proving she had very mixed feelings about that.

He didn’t smile. Idly, as if it didn’t matter to him, he said, “Or your brothers.” Watching her, he gauged her reaction to that, and added carelessly, “Whoever is most important to you, my dear. That’s the way leverage works.”

Definitely past time for her to retreat. “Could...could we speak privately? Please? I just... I’m afraid of being overheard and I need...” Forcing another stammer, she said, “I need...reassurances.”

Triumph blazed in his dark eyes. “Of course.” His attention dipped to her chest, then back to her face. “But my guards will need to accompany me.”

“I understand.” She looked around as if searching for the right place. “I believe there’s an empty boardroom. If you give me five minutes—”

“Five minutes,” he repeated, then his voice hardened. “And, Catalina? If you think to run from me, you can consider your brothers dead.”

That wasn’t a threat, but a guarantee, and Cat shivered with apprehension. “I won’t run, Senator, not this time.” She would never run again.

“Finally,” he purred, “you’re being reasonable.”

Blind with determination, Cat fled his proximity, heading for the designated boardroom. She ensured no one followed. And in fact, she almost felt invisible.

Only Leese remained acutely aware of her. With every step she took, she felt his attentiveness.