“Phone’s for you, Trap,” Wyatt said, tapping him on the shoulder.

“I’m a little busy.” Trap didn’t look up, his arms around Cayenne as they moved across the dance floor.

“I think you’ll want to take this one,” Wyatt said. “It’s an assistant who is holdin’ for Violet Smythe. The Violet Smythe in the running to be a candidate for the vice presidency. The same Violet Smythe who was married to Senator Ed Freeman who set up Jack and Ken Norton from Team Two in the Congo. The same woman who betrayed all the women in Whitney’s compound when they were prisoners being forced to be with men they didn’t want to be with. That Violet Smythe.”

The room went instantly silent. Ryland Miller, head of Team One, Gator’s team, stepped away from the wall where he’d been lounging. “She recently pulled the plug on her husband. He’d been in a vegetative state for some months. We believe she did so on Whitney’s orders. It’s rumored she might actually be paired with Whitney, but no one has confirmed that as of yet. Clearly she is in league with him.”

“Why would she be calling Trap?” Draden asked.

Trap shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t have anything to say to the bitch.”

“Trap,” Nonny snapped. “Do not refer to a woman as a bitch, even if she is one.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered, not looking in the least sorry.

Later, Cayenne was fairly certain that she was going to hear all about Violet Smythe, and he wasn’t going to be calling the woman Violet or Smythe.

“Take the call,” Wyatt said. “We need to know what she’s up to.”

Trap sighed. “This is fucking annoying. It’s my wedding day. I don’t want to talk to, or have to listen to, a lying bitch, but if you think it’s necessary, Wyatt, I’ll do it. Did you set up to record the conversation?”

Wyatt nodded. “We’re on it. Put her on speaker so we can hear.”

Trap threaded his fingers through Cayenne’s and tugged until she followed him across the room to the phone. The room was so silent, she was certain they could have all heard the proverbial pin drop. He clamped her to his side, one hand at her waist but fingers sifting through the thick strands of hair curling at the hollow of her spine.

“Dawkins here.” He sounded abrupt. Rude. Annoyed.

“Please hold for Senator Smythe,” the voice intoned.

Trap waited until the silver voice spoke in his ear. “Dr. Dawkins?”

“Next time, if there is one, you want to speak to me, don’t have some joker tell me to hold for you. You want to talk, be on the fucking phone.”

There was a small silence. “I understand, Dr. Dawkins.” The voice was strictly neutral now. “I wanted to talk to you about something important as well as exciting. I’d like to do that in person and hope you’ll accept my invitation to a ball. It’s actually a fund-raiser to raise money for the presidential campaign. More importantly, I would like to have a meeting with all the top scientists we have here in the United States. I’m running with the presidential candidate on a platform that is very dear to me. I’d like the United States to be the country to find the cure for cancer. I don’t doubt that it can be done if I can bring all our top people together to work for the same goal. Not for glory or money, but to actually help mankind. There isn’t a family untouched by cancer. The formal invitation will be in the mail for you and your wife. I know you’re getting married, Dr. Dawkins, and I would very much like to meet you and your wife. Are you at all interested?”

Curing cancer. Trap turned his head to look at the woman standing in Gator’s arms. Whitney had used her body, even when she was a child, to experiment with curing cancer. He actually gave her cancer repeatedly. No one would ever pass up a chance to meet with the top researchers in their fields when they came together to find a cure for cancer.

“I don’t work alone. Dr. Fontenot is my partner. I’m also in the military and I run missions.” He wanted to make that clear.

“I understand. I know Wyatt Fontenot works with you, and of course, he and his wife are also invited.”

“I’ll be bringing a security team.”

“We’ll have plenty of security, Dr. Dawkins.”

“I bring my own or I don’t show.”

“Of course. I look forward to seeing you.”

Trap hung up the phone and turned to the others in the room. They’d all been able to hear the entire conversation.

“She’s up to something,” Flame said. “She may be bringing all the top researchers together, and maybe they’ll even find a cure, but she can’t be trusted. Not for a minute. She’s up to something.”

“I agree,” Wyatt said. “The question is, what is it? What does she really want?”

Ryland shrugged. “The only way of knowing is for Trap and Wyatt to meet with her. Trap will be bringing a very large security team with him.”

CHAPTER 19

Trap closed his fingers around Cayenne’s slender wrist – the wrist adorned with a brilliant emerald bracelet. He found he suddenly preferred emeralds when he’d always been a diamond man. Cayenne subsided on the leather seat of the limousine and looked up at his face. He knew what she saw. He’d gone where he always did when he was in public, his face stone, no expression, no emotion.

He tightened his fingers until they shackled her, until they were a shackle around her small, delicate wrist. “You don’t leave my side for any reason, Cayenne. Do you understand me?”

Wyatt, sitting across from them, glanced at Trap sharply, but turned his head and looked out the darkened window at the spectators lining the streets. He didn’t say a word, and Trap knew he wouldn’t. This was between Trap and Cayenne and Wyatt wouldn’t interfere – unless he thought Trap would lose his mind – a distinct possibility.

“Trap.” Cayenne’s voice was soft. Gentle. Loving even. “We have nearly two full GhostWalker teams here for security.”

“I don’t fucking care.” He bit the words out, yanking her closer to him. She looked so damned serene, not at all as if they were going into a major ambush. “This isn’t a party, baby, this is a fucking nightmare. A trap. They have something planned, and that something could be another attempt to kill you. When I tell you to stay at my side, I mean no more than an inch from me. I want to feel your hand on me at all times.”