"Ms. Broen, how charming to see you," Drey greeted Rachel with a quick, brooding charm that instantly set Jonas's hackles to rising. Damn, if he didn't take her soon, then he was going to begin slicing and dicing would-be suitors like the hapless little bastards they were. Drey included.
"Good evening, Mr. Hampton." Cool, yet charming. Rachel showed no personal interest in Drey; there was no scent of sexual allure, no sense of deception or of intent.
Okay, he might allow the bastard to live a little longer.
A thread of amusement lingered in his senses. Strange, never before had he been jealous over another woman. Never before had he thought to kill simply because she may have had the smallest bit of interest in another man. Hell, he'd never given a damn either way before.
"Would you like to dance, Ms. Broen?" Drey's invitation caused Jonas to turn his head sharply, his lips parting on a growl.
"No, thank you, Mr. Hampton," she declined graciously as Jonas felt her fingers against his arm. "It seems my dance card is full tonight."
Possession. Intent. It was there now, directed at him.
Jonas clenched his teeth involuntarily against the surge of need that tightened his balls and throbbed through his cock.
The glands beneath his tongue began to pulse. Emotion fueled the powerful hormone as it spilled to his mouth and entered his system like a tidal wave.
"I would appreciate it if you would excuse me for a moment." She nodded to the other men. "I need to go to the ladies' room."
"I think I'll accompany you," Dawn decided after the quick, commanding look Jonas shot her.
She might be the mated wife of one of the most powerful men in the United States, but she was also still an Enforcer, and under his jurisdiction if she were in the area at the time.
Jonas ignored the quick frown her husband shot him. If worse came to worst and Seth decided to initiate a confrontation, Jonas was confident he could take him. The look he shot the other man was full of that confidence as well.
For the briefest moment, Jonas wondered if he was actually beginning to lose the grip he once had on himself. Once, he would have been actively pursuing a manipulation, a game of words, any way possible to show the bastards here that they weren't better than he, as they believed.
Instead, his mind was on one thing and one thing only: the information Drey Hampton might have, and the difficult job of retrieving Phillip Brandenmore from Iran.
"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse myself and Mr. Wyatt, I believe we have some business to discuss with Seth," Senator Tyler announced as the women moved away. Turning to Jonas, he gave him a telling look. "Seth has an interesting proposition, Jonas. I believe you should hear it."
In other words, Senator Tyler had information he needed to impart. If Drey had circumvented their normal information routes for such events, then there was a problem.
Jonas nodded to Drey cordially before turning and mov
ing to the opposite end of the ballroom and the short, narrow flight of stairs that led to what was supposed to be a secured meeting room.
Jonas rather doubted anything here was too secure. Drey might try like hell to keep his secrets, but that didn't mean he would actually triumph.
Rachel entered the ladies' room with Dawn following close behind. Pushing into the powder room designed for several women to use at once--something she rarely saw in a private residence--she wasn't surprised to find Dawn close at her heels.
"Jonas is a bit of a slave driver, isn't he?" Dawn stated as she moved to the wide, tall mirrors and opened her purse to repair her makeup.
Tension didn't often go well with makeup. A fine sheen of perspiration appeared on Rachel's forehead and temples, making repairs imperative.
"He can definitely be a little tense," Dawn murmured as she propped herself against a wall and met Rachel's gaze in the mirror. "But he generally knows what he's doing."
Like sending Dawn to "protect" Rachel in the ladies' room? She'd been to Drey Hampton's parties more than once, and she had yet to run into a rabid human or Breed in the ladies' room.
Finishing with her makeup, Rachel washed her hands, dried them, applied a fresh layer of lotion, then turned to the Breed female.
"He's making me a nervous wreck," she muttered. "Have a talk with him or something." She knew better; he might well return to the subject concerning the ambassador.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that." Dawn gave a short, amused laugh as her brown eyes lit with laughter.
Turning to the mirror, the other woman straightened several shoulder-length golden brown strands of hair that had fallen free of their diamond-studded clip before turning back to Rachel. "Ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." Rachel sighed.