Cygny's Six

When the servantscame around to announce the start of the cocktail party, Leo and Cygny were dressed and ready to go. Cygny hadn’t made too much about his skills with an iron and he managed not to strip the dress off her after he’d helped get her into it.

He hadn’t been there when she’d gone shopping with Beck in Colorado Springs, but he would have a few choice words for her friend when they got back. As far as he knew, the clothes that Cygny had brought with her were so she could fit in with the crowd of ridiculously rich patrons who were there to buy stolen artwork.

What they’d ended up buying was a dress that skimmed her body in a way that made her curves look like sin without exposing more than a hint of her breasts.

It was understated and sexy and Leo didn’t have a single bit of interest in leaving Cygny’s room.

Diana’s room.

He’d have to remember that.

Diana.

Diana Muldoon.

And his name-

“Glad to see you could make it Mister Burke.” The woman who had greeted them outside seemed much happier than she had been earlier. She held out her hand much like a princess would if she were expecting someone to bend over it and kiss her knuckles.

Folding his hands together, Leo looked at her and nodded. “I don’t believe we were introduced earlier.”

Lowering her hand, the woman’s happy smile became brittle. “Helena Chapman. I,” she put a good deal of emphasis on the word, “am your hostess until the auction.”

Leo looked at Cygny. “Miss Muldoon is the buyer’s representative, Miss Chapman.” He kept his tone and the look in his eyes straightforward. “I am only here as-”

“The muscle.” Helena interjected. “Or, more importantly, the eye-candy.”

Cygny reached out and touched Leo’s shoulder and smiled. “I’m looking forward to the viewing of the artwork. I’ve been given quite a bit of latitude on what to bid if I feel that the pieces warrant the price. When will we be able to view the pieces?”

Helena took her time diverting her attention from Leo to Cygny and there was something about the way the woman met her gaze that made Cygny glad she had Leo to watch her back.

There was something feral about Helena Chapman. Unsettling even.

The way she looked at Cygny made her feel like she wasn’t just in the cross hairs of a weapon, she was fodder, pure and simple.

The double doors opened at the front of the room and a number of servants entered with trays of canapes and copious bottles of ridiculously expensive champagne.

As the servants made their way around the room, Helena’s demeanor changed. Gathering her expression into a smile, she lifted a hand to call a server over to her side. “You’ll have to excuse me, Miss Muldoon, was it?” She tipped her head to the side as she plucked a glass from the silver platter. “I do believe you and I are the only women here. I’m told that I can be quite territorial, and this,” she gestured at the room, “is my territory.”

She took a step back and inclined her head.

“You will excuse me? I need to explain the ground rules to everyone.”

* * *

It wasn’tuntil just before midnight that he allowed Helena into his office.

When she did step inside, he could see how the separation had worn on her. Helena’s mood had soured considerably from the cocktail party.

And that lifted his spirits.

After all, he had given her strict instructions.

Her eyes sought him out in the semi-darkness of the room. “Father, I-”

“Helena…” He said her name in a sing song way that made her wince.

She’d heard that tone many times in her life.

None of them had ended well for her.

“I thought you understood your role.”

“I did- I do, father. I promise that tomorrow will be a much better day.”

“Tomorrow?” He could hear the mocking tone in his voice and by the way Helena’s eyes widened, she had too. “Tomorrow isn’t good enough. You’ve put her on her guard, my child, and that just won’t do. I need her unaware. I need her so focused on her assignment that the last thing she’ll suspect is my involvement.”

Helena took a step toward the desk, but he held out a hand, pointing to the ground at her feet.

“Stop right there.”

He saw the way her shoulders tensed and the barely discernable quiver of her bottom lip.

“Please,” she moaned the word as her left hand reached across to cover the bend of her right arm, “I don’t need it.”

He opened the middle drawer of his desk and pulled out the black metal case that he kept there.

“N-no…” Helena’s grip on her arm was white-knuckled and shaking. “I don’t need it.”

The top lid flipped open with a subtle clank against the top of the desk. “You forget, my child, that I can see everything that goes on in this house.” And he did. He’d spent a small fortune adding cameras that could see everything and not be seen by their guests.

He’d been more than capable of reading the body language in the room during the cocktail party. “I told you not to engage with her.”

Helena nodded.

“I told you to leave her alone.”