because her pen stilled and she compressed her lips. “Certainly. I heard your security guard regained consciousness. How is he?”
And he heard the faint hint of disapproval in hers, as if the kidnapping were Johnson’s fault and, by association, his. “They’re running tests. I’ll see him this afternoon.”
Her lashes lowered for an instant. “Yes, I understand you’ve gotten his physician to order no visitors until after you’ve talked with him.”
More disapproval.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Majors?”
Sean assessed her. She appeared to be in complete control—poised, her legs crossed, her back straight. Maybe too straight. She seemed ill at ease. “You design the invitations for Weddings Your Way, right?”
Her throat moved and she blinked.
She was thrown off by his sudden change of subject. Sean made it his business to assess the people he came in contact with. It came in handy. Those tiny reactions told him Sophie Brooks wasn’t a hundred percent unflappable.
“Yes,” she said evenly. “I help the bride choose the perfect invitation to introduce the most important event in a young woman’s life.” She paused. “Is that relevant?”
“We’ve actually met before. You designed the invitations for my wedding.”
Sophie did her best not to react. So that’s why he looked so familiar. She knew she’d seen him before. She’d caught a glimpse of him on the day of Sonya’s kidnapping, felt the sense of déjà vu, and thought perhaps his even, rugged features reminded her of a movie star. In the chaos of the tragedy, she’d forgotten about him.
But now she remembered vividly—his athletic, loose-limbed grace, his broad shoulders and lean hips subtly set off by his tailored suit, his nearly perfect features. His wedding to a blond debutante four years ago had been her first assignment for Weddings Your Way.
“Of course.” She held his gaze. No way was she going to admit she remembered him after that long. In truth, his odd teal-colored eyes had fascinated her, as had his harsh, handsome face and his confident sexuality. She also recalled how much in love he’d been. She smiled. “How is your wife?”
His eyes changed then, from soft teal blue to the dark shadows of a storm cloud. “I have no idea,” he said flatly.
Before she could stop herself, she glanced down at his left hand. No ring. Not even a tan line. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t because of the invitations.” His lips smiled wryly. His eyes didn’t.
Sophie sent him a small sad smile. “Nevertheless—”
“When will Ms. Brennan be back?”
Back to business. Sophie watched as he deliberately refocused on his reason for being here. He tensed and subtly arched his shoulders, then glanced at his watch, a shadow of worry flickering across his face.
Something had happened. Her intuition, honed by her years with the CIA, kicked in. She tensed.
“It could be quite a while. I assure you, I am authorized to act on her behalf in any matter.”
He nodded, and his hand moved toward his jacket pocket. In a calculatedly casual move, he checked it and rested it on his thigh, instead.
But Sophie noticed. She spotted the corner of a plastic bag skirting the top edge of the gray silk pocket. They’d received a note. She leaned forward. “Mr. Botero has heard from the kidnappers again, hasn’t he?”
Sean Majors glanced down at the unbuttoned top of her blouse. His gaze brushed the shadowed area between her breasts like a caress. They tightened in response, and awareness drifted across her skin like the faint touch of fingertips.
His gaze slid up to hers. After a couple of seconds, he looked beyond her. He could have been just looking out the window behind her at the luxurious pool area, but Sophie knew he wasn’t. He was making a decision—a decision whether to trust her.
He blinked and leveled his gaze on her again. “Yes.”
Sophie’s heart slammed against her chest.
A break at last. She smoothed her skirt and reminded herself that to him she was just a graphics designer at an upscale wedding-planning business. Still, she was in charge while Rachel was gone. She had an obligation to get all the information she could.
“And you’re here because Mr. Botero doesn’t want the police involved.”
“That’s right. Mr. Botero has cooperated up to a point. But he refuses to allow them inside his estate. He doesn’t want them to know he’s heard from the kidnappers. I don’t like operating without their knowledge.”
“We’re willing to cooperate in any way,” Sophie said quickly. She couldn’t tell him that Rachel, as head of the Confidential Agency, was already working closely with the police commissioner to keep law enforcement and media attention off the Botero kidnapping.
“As I’m sure you know, we’ve been waiting to hear about the date and time for the drop,” she said.
“And your security team is ready?”
“Of course.” He assessed her narrowly. She knew what he was thinking. He was Botero’s chief of security. He knew all about coordinating surveillance and protection. He also knew all about cooperation with authorities. Luckily so far, he’d barely dealt with the Confidential team directly, and then it had been mostly through Rachel. Sophie knew Rachel had revealed nothing about the true purpose of Weddings Your Way.
He dropped his gaze to her fingers. Aware that she was still doodling, as she did when she was nervous or concentrating, she smoothly covered the paper with her forearm without looking at it.
“So, Mr. Majors, what can Weddings Your Way do for you?”
“I need copies of all your surveillance tapes from the day of the kidnapping. I’d like to interview everyone Sonya spoke with that day. I want to review all the statements from all your employees.”
“The police have all that.”
He waited.
“All right. Ms. Brennan has copies of everything.” Sophie picked up the phone and dialed Samantha’s extension. “Samantha, have you got an extra set of copies of everything related to the Botero case—to Sonya’s kidnapping?”
“Everything?” Samantha’s amused voice said in her ear. “I caught a glimpse of Botero’s gorgeous security chief. Lucky you, in charge today. You surely don’t mean he’s sweet-talked you into giving him everything?”
Sophie gripped the phone more tightly and avoided the gorgeous security chief’s gaze as her face grew warm. “All the information we provided to the police,” she said evenly. She’d never quite picked up the knack the close-knit team had of kidding around, especially in the middle of a serious situation. Her background hadn’t been conducive to gentle teasing.
“Ah, okay. Give me twenty minutes. So the unflappable Sophie Brooks didn’t fall under the handsome prince’s spell.”
“No, of course not. Nothing like that.” She disconnected, feeling her cheeks turn warm. Silently and fluently, she cursed Samantha for teasing her.
She gave Sean a stiff smile. “We can have that information for you in about twenty minutes. In the meantime, if you’d like, you can talk to our receptionist about arranging to speak with the employees who were here that morning. Or would you prefer to see our chief of security, Rafe Montoya? He’s not here right now.” He’d gone with Rachel to see the commissioner. “He should be back this afternoon.”
Sean glanced at his watch again.
He didn’t have much time. Sophie couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to know about the note.
“The kidnappers gave