Chapter 23

Camille sat behind her desk preparing for a meeting. She and Marc searched her office the night before, but files were missing. She walked away with a note from Lee regarding an early morning meeting with Saul.

As she waited, she took in the beauty of the sunrise. The sky was clear and it appeared to be another beautiful day in Houston. She knew she would see very little of it. She would have to run home to prepare for her date with Marc. He'd agreed to accompany her to the office party.

The party was known to be bigger than any of their holiday gatherings. They wore their best clothes and jewels and partied until the sun rose. She thought Saul would cancel the shindig, but he didn't stating that he wanted to keep a sense of normalcy around the office. She agreed, but couldn't imagine attending without Ashanta.

Camille planned to wear a basic black dress, and dazzle them with her accessories. She would have as much fun as she could given the circumstances. She could see Marc now in a tuxedo accenting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. They still hadn't discussed their night in Dallas and she wasn't sure she was prepared to discuss it. What would she say? She knew he was a more of a fun person than a man that intended to stick around, which is why she could kick herself for allowing that night to happen. She did not regret it, yet a part of her wished that night meant the beginning of a relationship. She knew he planned to move on and she had to pretend her growing feelings did not exist.

Camille chuckled aloud, visualizing Marc's face the night before as Richard dished out his usual small talk at the front desk. She thought she saw jealously dance across his features, but it quickly dissolved into annoyance. When Marc placed his large hand on her lower back, she watched his eyes flash with recognition and decided that she wanted no part in their male pissing contest.

Lee buzzed her to remind her about the meeting with Saul. Camille stood, grabbed her coffee and made her way to his office. “Lee, are you attending the banquet tonight?”

“You know it's an unspoken rule that we're required to attend. Are you bringing a date?”

Camille dropped her head in a mild blush. “I take that as a yes,” Lee said.

“Yes, but it's nothing serious.” Hearing the words made Camille wish they weren't true. Her brief interaction with Marc was the closest thing to a real relationship that she'd had in a long time. However, it wasn't to be, so she'd enjoy the time they had and bid him farewell when their time ended.

Lee raised a manicured brow, which Camille hated because it spoke volumes. She was a hard-working woman of limited words, and their working relationship had blossomed into a casual flow between them. Lee passed Camille a notepad and told her that she'd do a late lunch after her meeting was over. Camille nodded and made her way to Saul's office.

* * *

Marc executed a perfect bow tie while his thoughts floated to Camille. Just when he thought this case could not become worse, it did. Camille was staring at two known deaths on her watch and few leads to solving the case. Why did the bureau let her continue on such limited resources and information? He was prepared to talk with Derek until he noticed his reaction to Camille. Marc knew something was going on between those two and that was enough to make him end his Houston stay and move on. He was sure the look on Derek’s face mirrored his own, that of a man staking his claim.

He felt a need to stay and help her and try to fight for his growing feelings and sleeping with her only complicated an already difficult situation. He would keep his hands, and lips, to himself until the case was solved. Talking with his brother only increased the need for his presence. Jarvis accepted the case to investigate Camille and promised to keep Marc posted.

The news from Russell remained the same. They were dealing with a group the agency would do just about anything to get their hands on. They all had politicians and businesses under their belt, which explained their ability to stay under the radar.

The thought baffled Marc since the groups did not conform to the characteristics known for rebel organizations. Most organizations wanted you to know about their presence and many usually loathed the United States. They were known for destruction in the name of a political agenda.

In the past, he looked for suicide bombers, illegal arms dealers, and conspiracies to harm Americans. But he could not grasp the angle of this invisible player, a group that was so discreet that they managed to collect billions of dollars while bypassing the watchful eye of the CIA and the FBI.

What did they want? Where were they? And how did IDJC work into the equation? He would find out, leaving him to wonder how it would affect his relationship with Camille?

Marc shook his head in dismissal and ran his hands along the front of his single breast tuxedo. He could not recall the last time he’d dressed for a black-tie event. He glanced at the dark, red roses resting on the desk. The florist had delivered them minutes before. According to the clock on the nightstand, he had to get going.

Russell ended his call with an air of caution. He had a sixth sense about these things and Marc trusted him with his life. They talked for several hours, tossing around possibilities about this group and something didn’t add up. How did they make in past the CIA, the FBI and customs?

In any other situation, he would have loved a case as complicated as this. It was his specialty. He cleaned up and dealt with the cases where most had failed, and as a result, the agency gave him a free hand to get things done…and he did.

Camille’s face flashed before his eyes and he knew that this case would not end favorable for them. With each touch, each kiss, Marc felt her drawing him in.

He could still feel the ringlets of her hair tangled in his hands, and against his better judgment, he made love to her knowing that they were playing with fire. She was undercover and he was straddling the fence between his career and his life.

Marc had to choose between pursuing her openly or closing this case and getting a green light to leave his current position as an agent. He wanted more for his future, and a family was not far from his thoughts.

Could he have Camille and solve the case without destroying the bond that was growing between them?

The last time Marc bet on a woman, he lost and he knew that without a doubt he was not prepared to suffer that type of loss again. He lived with constant thoughts of her betrayal. The ache consumed him for longer than he cared to admit.

Marc snatched up the flowers, tired of the endless list of unanswered questions. He would not answer them tonight. They would enjoy her company gathering, and later, deal with whatever came their way.

* * *

Marc lied. He promised to keep his hands to himself, but staring at Camille in the sexist black dress he’d seen in his life was testing his willpower. She’d opted to pin her hair up and the streetlights reflected from the usual black diamond earrings and the cluster of black and white diamonds cascading from her neck, resting comfortably in her deep v-neckline. He held his breath, willing his heartbeat to slow its pace or he was sure to pull her into his arms and lose himself in the warmth of her rose-colored lips.

Marc stepped back as she locked the door. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and turned to view the passing traffic. He took several cleansing breathes, turning once he heard her drop the keys into her clutch. They locked eyes. She smiled and he stepped closer, dropping his mouth to hover mere inches from her.

“May I?” he asked as need masked his usual smooth delivery.

“I thought you’d never--”

Marc captured her words in a kiss that made him forget everything. He stepped back minutes later, not regretting taking a chance on her conceding. She stopped and ran her finger around her mouth, removing traces of a lipstick smear. They walked to the waiting limousine in silence. He held the door as she slid into the seat. He laughed and she looked up into his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

Marc threw back his head and laughed until his eyes filled with tears.

“What?” Camille screeched.

Marc climbed in behind her and the driver closed the door. They were alone in the back seat of the stretch limo. “I thought about the look on your face when you stormed out of Artista. We’ve come a long way in a short period of time.”

“Yes, we have.” Camille search in her clutch, removing a compact. The lights from the small bar illuminated the backseat and she began reapplying her lipstick.

Soft jazz played as Marc watched and decided to test the boundaries of their relationship. He had to decide whether to move forward with or without her permission. “What are your plans after this case is done?”

She stopped and snapped the visor closed, shadowing her face into the night’s darkness. He turned his upper body, resting his back along the door. He wanted to take in her words and her body language. He had a lot riding on her response and he didn’t want to get it wrong.

Camille fell back into her seat. She shrugged her shoulders, not saying a word. He caught her off guard, and he planned to wait until he knew exactly where he stood with her and her life.

“I’m not sure. I need some time to regroup and decide what my next step is.”

The limo came to a stop in front of the banquet hall. He nodded in understanding and decided to push it further, “Where do I figure into your plans?”

“You don’t.”

* * *

The lights in the banquet room were low and the candle-decorated centerpieces illuminated the room in a soft glow. Blackjack tables were scattered around the room with well-dressed men and women mingling, ready to get the games started. Camille sniffed the intoxicating aroma of the six-foot buffet on the far wall across from the DJ.

IJDC held an annual banquet. This year’s them was a casino night in Vegas and no expense was spared. Employees were chauffeured to and from the event in limos, the drinks would flow, and it was a guaranteed good time.

Camille stood beside Marc knowing she had more to say, but the driver opened the door and he exited the vehicle before she could say anything else. She turned, attempting to explain when Saul met them at the door.

“Camille, don’t you look exquisite.” He leaned forward and placed an unwelcomed peck on her cheek.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Marc, this is Saul Donovan, our president.”

Saul appeared to puff his chest out while extending his hand toward Marc. They exchanged meaningless pleasantries and Saul moved to the next couple entering the hall. Marc took the opportunity to move to the open bar positioned in the corner a few feet away. He ordered a drink and she waited, noticing the stone-like appearance of his facial features.

“Marc…” She placed a hand on his sleeve. He turned a dark stare and settled his gaze on her hand.

“Camille…” Talib’s voice drifted from over her shoulder. She turned and smiled. He was a vision in the tuxedo, not as handsome as Marc, but a close second. The darkness of his skin rivaled the black tuxedo. He smiled and it reached his eyes, displaying slight laugh lines in the creased of his eyes. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you” she said again and she meant it. He pulled her into an embrace. She could feel Marc’s eyes boring into her, she turned and introduced them. “Did you arrive alone?”

“Yes, it appears the woman I wanted to bring had other plans.”

Reading the meaning behind his words, Camille raised an eyebrow.

“Too bad for you,” Marc said, slipping his arm around her waist.

A low growl escaped as Talib’s gaze shifted from Camille to Marc. She could not believe she was witnessing two grown men filling the ballroom with testosterone. She looked between the men, who appeared to ignore her presence.

“I see Lee across the room,” she mumbled. Moving from Marc’s embrace, she left the two men without another thought.

* * *

Marc kept his distance throughout the night. Camille had a clear view of him from across the room as she talked with Lee. Actually, Lee was holding down both ends of the conversation and she hoped she wasn’t missing anything important because her mind was wandering. Marc was at the center of her woes.

The women in the room appreciated the sight of him in his tuxedo. Camille noticed the sideway glances and the inconspicuous winks pass his way. They had only known each other a week, yet she knew the conversation in the limo would arise again. Her life was in a big sloppy mess and adding him to it would only complicate things more. She had lost her best friend and now she was on the verge of losing this case.

Derek’s ultimatum raised the stakes. She knew the time she spent with the employees of IJDC would be her best defense if things did not go well on Monday. She knew them and they knew her and replacing her would give this faceless team moving the diamonds more time to endanger lives and prosper from their untraceable scheme. The bureau needed her.

Lee slipped away from the table, leaving her alone. Marc nodded his head in her direction and she returned his acknowledgement with an easy smile. Camille dropped her head as she felt heat swarming through her. He made her body physically react and no man had made her feel so…wanted. They would figure it out. She could still feel the warmth from his kiss and she wanted more of his kisses, his lovemaking. Derek’s firm warning and Ron’s betrayal made fully pursuing Marc detrimental to her career and her heart.

Camille raised her head to find him unmoved. She watched as his humorous expression, no doubt due to her blushing, disappeared. Marc’s face appeared chiseled in stone as his chin lowered, making him peer in her direction over his brows.

“Hey, beautiful,”

“Hey, you…now don't you clean up nicely.” Camille stood and accepted the soft peck Talib placed on her cheek. ”And you smell good, too.”

He laughed, shaking his head and reaching for her hand, “Camille, Camille you are something.” He let his lips lightly brush the back of her hand. Continuing to hold it, he stood back assessing her from the top of her head to her sling-back stilettos. He stopped, holding her stare. She found herself lost in his dark brown eyes. There was an ease between them that she couldn't explain. His edge made his sexy as hell…and dangerous.

She glanced over his shoulder. Marc was gone. Camille's eye swept the banquet hall, but she didn't see him.

“Would you like a drink?” Talib asked, holding out her chair.

“Yes, please, a glass of Montrachet.” She sat and watched him walk toward the open bar.

She couldn't catch a break, well, actually she had. Her meeting with Saul granted her access to the records she'd sought for two long years. Together they reviewed several dozen files. He wanted to go over the records of shipments and payments. Camille wanted to kiss him for giving her exactly what she needed. A few of the files mirrored the records she received on the locket. She assisted Saul and planned to go back to the office and make copies. She considered asking Lee to handle it earlier, but she couldn't think of a good reason to make the request.

“What exactly are we looking for?” she asked Saul. He wanted to compile a list of sizable transactions covering the past six weeks. They completed the task, giving her a list of six leads. Once they finished, she told him she would return the files.

Since tomorrow was Saturday, Camille planned to go by the office in the morning. She scanned the room looking for Marc, but still did not find him.

“Looking for your date?” Talib passed a glass to Camille and took the unoccupied chair next to her.

“Huh, yeah, you see him?”

“I thought I saw him walk out the room.” He tossed his thumb in the direction of the entry doors.

“Really?”

“Is that your boyfriend?” He sipped his drink and relaxed in his chair.

She felt his undivided attention. His clean-shaven head and strong jaw line made for a handsome specimen. She would enjoy his company, knowing that the unanswered question hanging between her and the men in her life would soon end.

“No, and where is your date?”

He smiled showing his beautiful white teeth. “No date, and I only know you, so you're stuck with me.”

They laughed and she could feel the relaxing effect of him and the wine settle over her.

“Would you like to dance?”

Camille finished her drink and took his outreached hand, “I would love to.”