deleted his file.’ Rielle began trying to retrieve it, and did her best to skirt the detective’s question. ‘It said he was an accountant.’
Although she’d questioned that from the very beginning. The way he’d carried himself…how in shape he was – and in tax season, too…and his hands…
She pressed her lips together tightly. She’d felt those hands on her enough to know they were rough. Callused. They weren’t the hands of a man who spent all day on a computer or calculator.
‘An accountant for a timber firm that has subsidiaries in Sweden.’
Her heart began to pound faster, and her palms became slippery. Who had she been out with? Who had she just kissed?
‘Have you been at the reception this whole time?’ Morgan was now ignoring Nina and focusing on her.
‘Yes.’ And it had been wonderful. A fairy tale.
A fairy tale that was now turning twisted. Her Prince Charming was changing into a villain before her very eyes. Had he hacked into their database? He had high-tailed it out of there pretty fast once he’d seen Nina. Why would he do that?
The detective cocked his head. ‘Why did you go with him? You seem like a smart girl. Why go out with a stranger like that?’
Because he was hot and deceptively charming – as intense as he was. Because she hadn’t wanted to give Luxxor a black eye. Because she’d checked him out every way she’d known how, and he’d come up aces.
‘It was a black-tie reception at the White House,’ Nina said dryly.
‘And that’s the part that’s stumping me. He must have had an invitation.’ The detective rubbed his chin. ‘Those things are planned well in advance, and invitees have to RSVP. He had to be vetted by the Secret Service and White House staffers. Maybe they’ll share information with me if I explain the situation.’
Rielle closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to cause an uproar. Couldn’t they just drop it and have their IT staff close the apparently gaping hole in their software system?
‘The invitation was real,’ she insisted. ‘I saw it.’
She’d touched it.
That wasn’t all that she’d touched. She’d wanted to touch more. Her hands clenched to stop the sensation ringing in them. Damn him. He’d made her drop her guard, and she’d begun to fantasise.
‘I suppose Mel Summers could be his real name.’ The detective rubbed his chin, and his five-o’clock shadow rasped. ‘We could have missed one.’
Rielle spun in the chair so fast, her hair flew around her shoulders. ‘What did you just say?’
‘We don’t think that’s his name,’ he said. ‘When you remained out of contact, we tried to call him. We managed to make contact with every Mel Summers in the area, but none of them knew anything about you. That’s why we got so worried.’
‘But…’ Her heart began pumping so fast, her head got dizzy. ‘Are you sure? How do you know you called them all?’
‘He could be new to town,’ Nina suggested. ‘Or maybe he travelled here for the event.’
But he hadn’t.
Rielle didn’t know why she was fighting. She’d known his name wasn’t Mel!
She collapsed back into the big leather chair.
Who had she just spent the evening with?
‘Could you give me a description of him?’ The detective cleared his throat. ‘We couldn’t see him very well with you…uh, in the way.’
Oh, God. Could it get any worse?
She dropped her face into her hands. She hadn’t only spent the evening with him, she’d danced with him, rubbed her body against his and kissed him silly. ‘He’s tall, dark-haired and fit. Blue eyes.’
And callused hands and a devastating mouth.
She felt Nina’s hand close over her shoulder and squeeze.
She didn’t want to believe he was a bad guy. She wanted to keep her memories of going to the ball, being on his arm and sharing stories about the other guests.
Being on his arm…
She scrubbed her face and turned weary eyes on the detective. ‘They took a picture of us in the receiving line, but I didn’t get a copy.’
Yet. He’d promised to send one to her.
‘That would help, if I could get my hands on it.’ Morgan tapped his pen against the pad. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me about him?’
‘He was complicated,’ she admitted. That was part of what had intrigued her. He’d hidden as much as she had, but both of them had pulled back layers as the night had worn on. ‘Secretive, now that I think about it.’
‘How?’
‘He evaded the paparazzi – and he hid me, too.’
Damn him. She hated how every little good thing was being contorted.
‘He’s quick on his feet.’ He’d answered every question she’d fired at him, including the ones about accounting.
But, through it all, she hadn’t truly bought any of it, had she? She’d questioned everything about him.
Everything but that kiss.
It had stopped the questions that had been whirling in her head dead in their tracks.
‘And observant.’ Her chin snapped up. ‘He was watching people – a brunette in particular.’
The detective’s eyes narrowed, and he flipped to a new page in his notepad. ‘Can you describe her to me?’
‘Red dress. Long black hair. Olive skin. Exotic-looking, but stern. Pretty, but she didn’t look like a happy person.’
Rielle remembered the woman getting into the car ahead of them. ‘She attended the event alone.’
‘What was the theme of the evening?’ the detective asked. ‘I can find out, but –’
‘Sweden.’ Rielle swallowed hard. ‘The Prince and Princess of Sweden are visiting.’
The detective’s expression darkened. ‘I’ll find out who she was, too.’
His dark gaze pinned Rielle. This was the hard-boiled detective she knew. The relentless pursuer. ‘Is there anything else you can remember? Anything that struck you as odd?’
The whole evening had been out of the ordinary, but she shook her head.
The detective’s stare was steady. ‘Did he hurt you in any way?’
Nina flinched, but Rielle’s lips tightened. ‘No.’
Whoever the stranger had been, he’d done his best to put her at ease. He hadn’t hurt her or forced himself on her in any way.
He’d given her the best night of her life.
‘Good.’ The detective put his notepad back in his pocket. He nodded towards the door. ‘Nina? Want to make sure you lock up after me?’
To Rielle’s surprise, her boss followed. She heard the murmur of their voices as they headed to the lobby together.
‘Oh, God,’ she groaned. She raked a hand through her hair and wandered over to the panoramic windows of Nina’s office. She hated people worrying about her, trying to protect her. She’d been so close to making her way back from that.
She stared through the window at the Washington Monument. The white pillar glowed against the dark night sky. It was a postcard-perfect evening outside. Too bad she was only feeling the chill. She caught Nina’s reflection