Kathleen Long - High Society Sabotage

Perhaps the woman had been justified in her actions, but surely a public display such as the one she’d just caused fell somewhere outside the acceptable parameters of polite society.

Sara had heard rumors about Olivia Turner’s tendency toward odd behavior. She’d just witnessed proof of those allegations firsthand.

“I apologize for my brother’s rudeness.” The rumble of Kyle Prescott’s voice cut through Sara’s thoughts.

She shifted her focus to his face, noting the lines of stress that had appeared following his mother’s outburst.

Annemarie. Her thoughts turned back to the awkward conversation with Kyle’s half brother.

“He took me by surprise,” Sara answered. She waved one hand as if she weren’t bothered by Peter’s comment, when the truth was she’d been blindsided. Peter Turner’s sudden remarks had left her feeling raw and exposed.

The orchestra swung into a slow, melodic tune and Kyle held out his hand. “Dance?”

Sara slipped her fingers into his. “It would be my pleasure.”

They moved to the center of the dance floor, other partygoers moving out of their way as if they were the Red Sea parting for the prodigal son.

For a split second, nerves fluttered to life in Sara’s stomach but she willed them away.

Now wasn’t the time to feel out of her element. Now was the time to revel in her surroundings.

She swayed to the music, following Kyle’s obviously practiced lead as the orchestra played on. The heat of Kyle’s fingers burned through the thin material of her dress at the small of her back, but she held her composure. Held her cover.

“I don’t remember seeing you at all these awful society events you mentioned.” Kyle’s lips quirked into a grin. “Are you sure you aren’t just crashing this party?”

If he only knew.

Sara graced him with her warmest smile, gazing up into his deep blue eyes. “Let’s just say I’ve been off the circuit for a bit.” Not a complete lie. “But I’m back now.”

His grin widened and he pulled her closer. “Lucky for me.”

Sara shifted to slide her fingers higher on Kyle’s shoulder. “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

When the music stopped, Kyle moved toward the edge of the dance floor, never letting go of Sara’s hand. She concentrated on remaining upright in the ridiculous heels she’d purchased just for this occasion.

If she were smart, she’d have practiced walking in the contraptions before tonight.

When they reached the far side of the ballroom, Kyle spun on her, daring her with his expression. “I could use a change of scenery.” One dark brow lifted. “Do you ride?”

Sara glanced down at her heels. “I do but I don’t think there’s a horse anywhere that would appreciate these shoes.”

A smile spread wide across Kyle’s face, the tension that had been there before their dance completely gone now.

“Not horses.”

Still holding her hand, he led her through the crowd and out into the cool, night air. He tipped his chin toward one of the guesthouses where a Harley gleamed under a floodlight. “Ever ridden a beauty like that one?”

Sara narrowed her gaze. “What do you think? That I get driven everywhere, Mr. Prescott?”

One dark brow crooked, amusement shimmering in his gaze. “If the shoe fits. And, please, call me Kyle.”

“For your information, I’ve ridden plenty of bikes.” She bluffed completely.

She’d been on the back of a motorcycle once, and it came nowhere close to the size of the giant Kyle had pointed out.

He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, the move lighting up his features. “Then perhaps you’d like to prove yourself.”

She inwardly cursed the traitorous tumble her stomach took in response to his smile.

“Now?” she asked.

Sara’s plan was working beautifully. If Kyle Pres cott was ready to whisk her away on one of his infamous Harley rides through the mountains, she’d made more progress today than she’d hoped for.

He nodded in answer to her question, daring her with his pale eyes. “You game?”

She read the unspoken question buried in his words and suggestively traced a finger down her throat to the hollow at the base of her neck. She ran her finger over her choker. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“I’m always game, Mr. Prescott…Kyle.” She corrected herself.

When he offered his arm, Sara slipped her hand inside, taking note of his well-muscled upper arm and the lean body against which he tightly pressed her hand. She gave herself a mental nod of congratulations.

Was she game?

Most definitely.

She was always game to get her man. And Kyle Prescott promised to be a worthy—and challenging—opponent.

Kyle handled the bike effortlessly, as if he spent much of his time roaming the vast mountain roads outside of Denver. Sara smiled to herself as she followed his lead, leaning into the curve as they rounded a bend.

From what she knew about Kyle Prescott, his days were supposed to be spent running the international rights division of TCM, but rumor had it he practiced a more absent management style. He rarely showed up at the office, and when he did, he remained isolated in his office. Nothing more.

That particular description of him didn’t jibe with the outgoing, charming man she’d met tonight. One of the personas was an act. All she had to do was figure out which one it was.

Sara tightened her grip around Kyle’s waist, pressing her body tightly against his back. What the heck. If she were going to play the role of a blinded-by-money-and-charm Kyle Prescott groupie, she might as well go all out.

She let her mind wander momentarily, taking in the breathtaking scenery illuminated by the full moon. Majestic slabs of red rock gave way to deep valleys dropping far below the roadside. Summer wildflowers smattered the mountainside with what would surely be vivid splashes of color in the light of day.

For the slightest moment she wanted to tell Kyle to stop—wanted to take just a minute out of the investigation to enjoy the beauty before her.

How long had it been since she’d been up here?

Too long.

She and her sister used to sneak up this road all the time once Annemarie had gotten her license, but Sara had devoted the years since Annemarie’s death to taking down criminals, not sightseeing.

She’d loved her time in the FBI, but being part of the Prescott Personal Securities team was a dream come true. Her undercover assignment to investigate the media conglomerate TCM was something she could sink her teeth into, and her first chance to truly shine as part of PPS.

She could only hope Annemarie would be proud. Sara might not have been able to solve her sister’s murder, but she’d solved others. She’d eased other families’ pain. Try as she might to content herself with that fact, it somehow was never enough.

Kyle eased the bike to the side of the road, snapping Sara’s focus back to the man—and the case—at hand. He cut the bike’s engine, climbed off the massive machine then helped Sara down from the back of the seat, no easy feat in her heels and dress.

When he kept her fingers tightly in his grip, she resisted the urge to pull them free, instead playing the part of the smitten female.

She followed him to the lookout’s edge, gazing down into a valley of jagged rock, stands of evergreens and lush green rolling hillsides. If she weren’t mistaken, the Turner ranch lay in the distance. She could just make out the shape of the buildings and the well-lit grounds.

“Isn’t that—?”

“Sure is,” Kyle answered before she finished her sentence.

He dropped her hand, leaving her fingers oddly cool where his had been. Sara shook off the unwanted sensation, silently reminding herself not to be pulled under by the man’s obviously practiced charm.