Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)(90)

"Where is this thing?"

She shrugged. "Arly knows. He can get hold of me. It's the Victoria Hotel."

"Of course. The one with the glass dome and you have to be wearing a suit to get through the door."

"That's the one."

Ryland's hand curved around the nape of her neck and dragged her back to him, his mouth hard and demanding, feeding on hers, branding her his. Abruptly he turned and walked out of her room.

Lily stared after him for a long while, her fingers against her lips. The taste of him burned in her mouth, in her body long after she arrived at the hotel and had begun her circuit of greeting the other guests. It was strange how she felt Ryland with her, almost as if a part of him lingered inside her. And maybe it did.



THE music was loud and rhythmic, pounding out a beat that seemed to consume her. The room was enormous and still the crowd spilled over, into the halls and the dining room. There were so many people she felt crushed. It was difficult to keep her barriers erect and not be overwhelmed by the tremendous outpouring of emotional energy crackling in the air around her.

As Lily moved through the room, working the crowd, she went into automatic fundraiser mode. She read each person as she shook hands or exchanged hugs and fake kisses. Peter Whitney had drilled the importance of knowing the right people, getting them on her side. Now, more than ever, it was important to her. While they ate their exquisitely prepared meals she gave her impassioned speech on helping mankind and the need the researchers had for funding. She pledged a large sum to start the ball rolling and smiled with the right touch of confidence as they applauded her.

She drifted through the crowds, talking and laughing, saying all the right things, making her way to the ballroom. The muted lighting in the ballroom was much easier on her eyes. The pounding music managed to give her some relief from the excitement and sexual tension, the arguments flaring here and there, the undercurrent of affairs and conspiracies and corporate gossip.

Lily watched the women in their tight clinging clothes entice the men. Mere glances, a lift of an eyebrow, a whisper in an ear. The brush of bodies as they secretly touched, coming together for a stolen moment in the shadowed room and moving apart again. The looks. Assessing. Speculative. Sexy. This was the kind of place she would love to share with Ryland. Lily slid deeper into the shadows, watching the dancers. The music throbbed through her body, the beat hard and insistent. She had never noticed how the music could crawl inside one's body and heat the blood.

"Lily, dear." Phillip Thornton toasted her with his glass. "I want to introduce you to Captain Ken Hilton. He's been waiting to dance with you all evening. You look wonderful. Your father would have been proud of your speech."

"Thank you, Phillip." Lily ignored the sudden churning in her stomach, avoided touching Thornton by smiling up at the captain. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The moment her hand slipped into his, Hilton swung her expertly onto the dance floor. He moved with complete assurance, his strength and confidence in his very hold. "I've wanted to meet the famous Dr. Whitney for a long time," he said.

Lily glanced up at him. "My father is the famous Dr. Whitney. I hide in the lab."

He laughed. "What a shame. No one as beautiful as you are should be locked up in a laboratory."

Her lashes fluttered and she whirled close to his body, then spun away from him. His hands guided her close and as he brought her back to him, he was more possessive. "You're an excellent dancer, Dr. Whitney."

"Lily." She smiled up at him. He thought she was an easy mark. A woman with too much money and vulnerable with the disappearance of her father. He was supposed to keep an eye on her and his duty just might have a few fringe benefits. She allowed the knowledge to wash through her before she raised her barriers and glided around the floor with him. He wasn't the first man to want her money and he wouldn't be the last.

"Are you here with Colonel Higgens?" She looked as wide-eyed as she could manage. "Or the general?"

"General McEntire," Captain Hilton said. "And call me Ken."

As he whirled her close to the shadows of the wall, Lily caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes watching them. Eyes as black as night. As cool as ice. Eyes that followed them around the dance floor while the body remained as still as stone. She nearly stumbled, had to cling a bit to recover. Naturally the captain thought she had done so on purpose.

What was Nicolas doing there? If Nicolas was there, did that mean Ryland was somewhere in the ballroom? Somewhere in the crowd? She couldn't concentrate on dancing, half terrified that he might really have been so arrogant as to come, and excited to think he really had dared such danger for her.

Even as she searched the darkest corners of the room, she smiled up at her partner. "Perhaps we should get a drink, Captain."

He gripped her elbow as if he were afraid of losing her in the crush of bodies. The lights were so dim it was nearly impossible to see. Hilton kept her close as he shoved his way to the bar, waving to get the bartender's attention.

A man in a dark suit fell into Lily, steadied her, murmured an apology, and moved back into the crowd almost before she could identify him as Tucker.

"Dr. Whitney?" Hilton sounded worried. His large body crowded closer to her. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Her smile was brilliant. She should have known Ryland would be close. It should have made her angry, but she felt loved and protected instead. "A little jostling never hurt anybody. By any chance did Phillip Thornton ask you to look out for me?"