She smiled. “I can do anything, but it’s going to cost you. You’ve got savings you can dip into?”
“Yeah, I got some. My father knew a thing or two about investing.” He reached for his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “All right, do it.”
She tapped the enter button on her keyboard. “Done.”
He slowly looked up, frowned. “I didn’t give you my credit card?”
“Yeah, well, I got that this morning.” She avoided his slight scowl, and went on, “We’ll land in Seattle in six hours. That gives us three hours to shop and an hour for my hair and makeup.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you think you’re milking this a bit?”
“It’s a formal affair,” she said with no hint of remorse. “You’ll need a tux too.” She continued typing, adding them onto the masquerade party’s guest list. “We need to pretend to belong with the top one percent. Besides, I must look my absolute best.”
“You look just fine like this,” he said, his gaze raking over her.
She squirmed against the heat his intense regard scorched through her. “Yeah, but we need to make me look spectacular.”
His brow arched again. “And why is that?”
She smiled
. “Because I need to be the only woman at the ball that Lennox sees.”
CHAPTER 5
AN HOUR LATER, Rowan followed Alex into a boutique shop on Fifth Avenue. The shop was tiny. The price tags on the dresses were not, but all that mattered was Mia. He hadn’t once let himself think about the fear his baby sister must be enduring, though his sister was tough, and he knew she’d keep her smarts about her until he got there. He only needed to keep moving forward, closing the gap between where she was kept and where he stood. Failure wasn’t an option. Their flight to Seattle was in an hour, and they needed to dress the part for the ball. Rowan had quickly rented a tux that fit him well enough. Alex had spent the last hour dress shopping, and when he found her, she looked more than frustrated.
She reached for a long black dress, but Rowan knew that was all wrong. “Not that one.” He glanced around and spotted a slinky cherry-red gown. “This one is Lennox’s flavor.”
“How do you know that?” Alex asked, taking the hanger from him, studying the dress intently.
“After I picked up my tux, I looked into him,” Rowan explained, leaning a shoulder against the wall. The sales lady walked in their direction, but Rowan smiled and politely waved her off, wanting this conversation to stay private. When she moved along to another customer, he continued with Alex. “Every woman that I’ve seen Lennox photographed with is always wearing a red dress. Which tells me it’s his preference.”
“Then let’s go with that.” Alex turned toward the dressing room, but Rowan reached for her arm.
“Lennox won’t be the only one looking at you in that dress, Alex.” He caught the hitch of her breath and the dilation of her eyes, and his cock swiftly hardened.
She gave a soft, sexy smile that belonged to him—that Lennox would not see tonight. “Let’s just hope he feels the same way you do.”
“He’s a man,” Rowan stated. “He’ll notice you.”
She didn’t respond and moved toward the changing room. When she reached the red curtain, she glanced back over her shoulder. “And what about hair? What’s Lennox’s preference there?”
“Up,” Rowan told her.
But that wasn’t for Lennox. That was all for him.
The thoughts of her long neck and back beautifully exposed stayed with Rowan the rest of the day, as did his semi, until they arrived later that afternoon to the private airport in a stretch limousine. No expense had been spared to play the part of a rich couple going on a date night to Seattle. Rowan wouldn’t make one wrong move, not with Mia’s life on the line. He felt so close to the killer, he could taste it, and that meant that soon his sister would be home and safe. The private airport had three small jets on the tarmac. Only one of those planes had a pilot standing near the staircase, with a flight attendant next to him. “I take it that’s our ride?” Rowan asked.
Alex nodded, her sharp eyes on her target. “Yeah, that’s him. Brett Manning.”
Rowan met the limo driver at the trunk and took out their suitcase for the night. He tipped the driver before he placed his hand on the small of Alex’s back, guiding her toward the plane. He was not blind to how much he enjoyed touching her, and by her slight shiver, how she reciprocated that sentiment. That obviously hadn’t changed between them over the years.
As they approached the plane, Alex commented, “He doesn’t look like a killer.”
“Serial killers never look like killers,” Rowan replied. “That’s what makes them so dangerous.”
She acknowledged his remark with a shrug.