THE PARTY

Jake slipped into his darkened apartment after the meeting.  He knew he had to suck it up and be a man.  He peeked into the bedroom and was stunned.  The bed was empty, perfectly made.  A little upset, he went to the phone and dialed Zara's number.  Her answering machine kicked on after one ring.  What the hell?  He tried calling her the next day and the day after that, but could never reach her.

*  *  *

She read the paper daily; she enjoyed thumbing through it.  It, especially the society page, provided a good hunting ground for her.  She was always thinking of her next victim.  A short blurb in the middle of the column caught her eye:  Baron Gunnar Holden will hold a $2000 per plate fundraiser for children's cancer research.  Below the announcement was a phone number to call to arrange for tickets.  Her eyes lit up brightly.  Interesting.  Very interesting.  She had never heard of this fellow before, but she had the money and the time.  She would be at this party to check him out.  He would be her next victim after she eliminated this one.  It wouldn't hurt to peek in on the party and at least 'bump' into him.  She had to go shopping for the perfect dress.

*  *  *

Loralei had gone out the day after the strategic planning meeting and had the blurb added to the society page.  She was certain that BHK would read it and appear.  She had picked a legitimate charity in which to donate any funds generated, but it still didn't stop her from feeling like a fraud.  She had decided that as soon as this assignment was over, she was transferring over to BSU [Behavioral Sciences Unit].  She couldn't take this undercover crap any longer.  Since the party was Loralei's idea, she had been elected to arrange it.  She honestly didn't mind.  She literally threw herself into the job.  It kept her mind occupied with something that almost didn't have a thing to do with Frank Donovan.  There were dozens of people to inform, but her superiors had given her free reign.  BHK would either go after Donovan or Jake, who had the role of Holden's equally wealthy cousin.

She didn't feel very comfortable sending either of the men in, but she especially felt ill at ease regarding Donovan's presence.  Her feelings were ridiculous, of course.  He was well trained and could probably take out a person twice his size.  Yet, exposing him to the killer, even for a very short time, was disturbing her.  She didn't want anything to happen to him.  Why should I care?  Why should I give one ripe fuck about him?  He's nothing to me, absolutely positively NOTHING.  Of course, that was a lie.  She didn't want to admit it, but he was everything she had ever wanted, but would never have again.

On the night of the party, it was bitterly cold.  Loralei and her partner were on their way to UC headquarters to meet and finish up the final preparations.  Each person had some role to play tonight.  Cody and Monica were to monitor and listen outside.  Alex would attend the party as a 'guest' and help keep watch for BHK.  Loralei and Jackson were posing as aides to Donovan and Jake.  Before they arrived, Loralei and Jackson tossed a coin to see which of them would be with Jake and which would be with Donovan.  Of course, as fate would have it, Loralei lost and would be stuck with Donovan.  She wondered if God had a twisted sense of humor. 

When Loralei laid her eyes on Donovan, she had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping.  He was decked out in a basic black tuxedo and looked every inch the German aristocrat.  Goddamn, she thought, why does he have the ability to do this to me?  She tore her eyes away from him and dropped a heavy suitcase onto the conference table.  Curiously, all but Donovan and Jackson crowded around her to see what goodies she had brought them.  Surveillance equipment.  Boring.  They immediately stepped back.  She wondered what they were expecting?  Uzis?  M-16s? 

"Jackson and I will use the earpieces, but I'm afraid they won't do for the rest of you tonight," Loralei said as she held up one of the minute recording devices. 

They looked like decorative pins, and were the old standbys when earpieces weren't feasible.  Ironically enough, Loralei was a quick start when it came to these gadgets.  She gave one to each agent and stopped in front of Donovan.  His lip was no longer swollen, but she could still see the red mark where her teeth had cut him.  She wondered how he intended to explain that, but she didn't dare voice it.

"Your wire, Agent Donovan," she said as she held it out.

His gaze was just as intense as hers, even more so.  This was no game, and after this assignment, he would definitely have to take some serious time off, but he found that he wanted to torture her [just in a 'good' way].  He held out his arms as if he were about to embrace someone.  "You're the bug expert, do me." 

Donovan was clearly challenging her.  Did he think she wouldn't do it?  If so, he had another 'think' coming.  She refused to let him shake her.  Curiously, the rest of the agents watched the exchange with growing interest.  The team knew Donovan was a bit on the cold side, but they hadn't seen the smart-ass bastard side of him.  Lately, it was the only side he showed. 

Gazing at him with steely eyes, Loralei approached him and removed his tuxedo jacket.  Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt.  The closeness of him, his warm skin, and the scent of his cologne were utterly intoxicating.  She was shaking all the way down to her toes, and she hoped he couldn't detect it.  There was an undershirt beneath the starched tuxedo shirt, and she was almost disappointed to see it.  His flesh, the flesh she had nibbled, bitten, and kissed was hidden from her sight.  His breath came in slow, but heavy.  He couldn't believe the rush of excitement that ran through him just by the simple touch of her hands.  He didn't make one move to assist her.  She reached around him and unclipped the satin cummerbund, tucking it under her arm.  Not taking her eyes off his once, she clipped the recorder part of the wire to his slacks, and activated it.  She replaced the cummerbund and deftly buttoned up the shirt over the wire.  She hooked the microphone onto the perfect white shirt and stood back to admire her work.

"Would you like another swollen lip," she asked low enough for only Donovan to hear.

"Maybe later," he spat.

Loralei had rented a limousine to take them to the banquet hall at the ritzy La Vérité Cachée hotel.  She nervously played with her earpiece and had each person test his or her equipment a dozen times or more.  She felt edgy and paranoid.  She wished that she had never gotten the UC team involved at all.  During the ride, Donovan watched Loralei closely.  He was worried about her, worried about her edginess.  As he had thought before, her behavior wasn't a good thing if she intended to make it out of a serious situation alive.

They arrived at the hotel a mere thirty minutes later.  When it was down to just Loralei and Donovan in the limo, he grabbed her arm before she could get out.  She looked back at him impatiently.

"What," she spat, indignant.

He didn't release her.  "Agent to agent, Loralei, you need to calm down and breathe.  If we see any action tonight, which I doubt, you're going to end up shot or dead.  I don't want to see you zipped up in a body bag.  Do you understand?"

"Stop telling me how to do my job," she said through clenched teeth.

He sighed, but maintained his grip.  "I'm trying to keep you alive, Agent Kadin.  All bullshit aside, I'm worried.  I don't think you're up to this, not after what has happened in the last few weeks."

She had had enough.  She jerked her arm out of his grasp.  "Thank you for your advice, but I think I can manage."

Loralei exited the limousine and Donovan quickly put on his mask.  He followed Loralei's lead and allowed his 'aide' to walk in front of him.  He was amazed to see that there were members of the press present.  Amazing.  Donovan blocked it out as best as he could and simply followed Loralei inside.  He didn't notice that he was being watched.

*  *  *

She watched as the baron strolled regally into the hotel behind a woman wearing an earpiece.  He was obviously a very important man, and her heart began to pound.  She couldn't believe that she had found two victims in the same city.  She usually waited until one man died before going after another, but she couldn't resist, not this time.  Her current victim was simply a thrill kill.  This one would make her even richer.  She stared at the handsome baron and found something vaguely familiar about him and the woman.  She couldn't quite put her finger on it.  It didn't matter.  She hadn't seen everyone in the baron's party, and it was good that she didn't.  Her current victim was already inside, undercover and oblivious.

No one, including the FBI agents who had been tracking her for months, would recognize her now.  Just as Loralei suspected, she had chopped several inches off her hair, dyed it, and had her crooked tooth repaired. 

*  *  *

Loralei eyed the crowd, but couldn't make out any single feature of anyone.  The only person whose presence she was aware of was Donovan's.  He mingled easily and played his role to the hilt.  Every now and then, she would mumble into the earpiece to Monica and Cody waiting outside.  They had given her the 'all clear' about nine hundred times.  Her hunch had been wrong.  BHK hadn't shown up.  She would only allow the façade to go on so long, and then she would get Donovan and his team out.  Of course, every other woman at the party had zoned in on Donovan as if he were the honey to their bees.  She was attacked by insane and unexplainable jealousy each time another woman touched him.  He played the consummate and gracious host, seemingly enjoying the attention, which angered Loralei to no end.  However, he would have given up all his fake millions for just one simple taste of Loralei's lips.

At one point in the evening, the 'baron' had to stand behind a podium and give a speech.  Loralei stood near the podium and continually scanned the crowd.  As Donovan began to recite the speech she had written for him, her eyes went up to him.  She watched as this handsome juvenile fucker spoke eloquently and with passion.  He could easily charm the panties off the most prudish virgin.  She longed to get back on his good side, to lay with him in bed, without even making love.  She needed to divert her attention elsewhere, but she couldn't.

*  *  *

She watched as several women crowded around the baron.  If she didn't make her move soon, he would simply disappear, and she'd lose her chance.  Something stopped her.  She caught a glimpse of a very familiar looking man.  She had yet to see him dressed so elegantly, but she didn't have any trouble recognizing him.  Jake.  Zara Damon, last known as Samantha Crump-Clawson, stood and stared at her victim in disbelief.  What was he doing here?  She took another long look at the baron, and then she smiled.  Oh, how they thought they knew everything, when they knew very little.  The party was a set up, a sting.  The 'baron' was the man in the restaurant the night she and Jake had gone for food.  The 'aide' had been the woman with him.  She had to make a swift exit before Jake saw her.  He would die for certain now; it was just a matter of planning the right time and method.

*  *  *

Two hours later, Loralei was upset and frustrated.  How much of the agency's money had she spent to set up such an elaborately useless sting operation?  How many more times would she fuck up?  BHK had not made an appearance, nor had any woman remotely close to her profile.  She glanced over at Donovan.  She could see that he was tired.  He had chatted up several women, and sat with another right at that exact moment.  She glanced over at Jackson who stood with Jake. 

"It's your call, Kadin," Jackson's voice said over the receiver stuck up against her ear.

She sighed.  "Let's move out.  The donations are secured, and our girl is a no show.  I think I can effectively say that my ass will be chewed severely by dawn."  She approached Donovan and took hold of his arm, forcing him to his feet.  She stared down sweetly at the pissed off woman.  "If you'll excuse us," she said with a contrite smile, "the baron and I need to discuss his schedule."

"What is it," he asked once they were out of earshot.

"We're done, Frank.  What's wrong?  Upset that I interrupted you before you could make a date with her?"

The green had come back, and he found that thought darkly delicious.  "Jealousy looks good on you," he said without the hint of a smile.

"Jealous?  You wish," she spat.  "We're working, not setting you up with your next lover."

Donovan exhaled an exasperated breath.  He was tempted to grab her and kiss her again.  Instead of acting on that impulse, he decided to play the asshole again.  "I suppose your plan wasn't exactly fool proof?"

She shook her head.  "You can't let it go, can you?"  Both had forgotten they were wired for sound.  "Smug.  Know it all.  Vicious.  Cruel."  She gazed up at him and planted her hands on her hips.  "Have I forgotten anything?"  Without a word, she charged off into the crowd.  "Move it, goddamn you," she yelled back at Donovan.   

No one said much on the way back.  Loralei ignored Donovan's smug gaze.  She wanted to kill him [but in a good way].  None of them minced words or said goodbye.  Loralei grabbed hold of her suitcase and she and Jackson walked silently to the car.  She tossed the case into the backseat and slammed the door.  Jackson wanted to talk to her, but she would not engage in conversation while pissed to the extreme.

"Loralei!"

She turned toward Donovan as he approached at full trot.  He had taken off the tux and donned blue jeans again.  "What now, Frank?"

Jackson rolled his eyes dramatically.  He had no desire to listen in on another lovers' spat.  "I'm going to the hotel, Kadin.  Maybe Agent Donovan will give you a ride back in the morning," he said.

"No," she said, "wait.  I have nothing more to say to him."

Donovan glanced at Jackson.  "Go."  Then to Loralei:  "We must talk."

"Jesus," she sighed.  "Okay.  Get out of here, Bart."

He didn't hesitate.  Donovan tried to take Loralei's arm, but she wouldn't let him touch her.  He sighed heavily and allowed her to walk ahead of him.  She tried to steer her way toward the building, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"What are you doing," she demanded.

"We tried this your way," he said, "and it failed.  I'm not criticizing you or your plan.  We'll now do this my way."

"Your way?  I think that after tonight, your services are no longer required or desired."  She once again jerked her arm free from his grasp and began to walk away.  "Later, Frank, I need to grab a cab."

For three minutes or more, he stood and watched her.  Rooted to his spot, he had no idea what broke his resolve.  Right at that moment, he didn't care.  He ran up to her, grabbed her arm again, and spun her around to face him.

"For Christ's sake, Frank, let me go."

He shook his head.  "No, Loralei.  There is more I have to say to you."  He felt some of the tension slipping away.  He softened his grip just a bit.  "I'm sorry, truly sorry.  This is not some juvenile spoiled titty baby thing.  This isn't a man thing."

"Fine," she whispered.  "Apology accepted."  She broke free of his grasp for the umpteenth time.  "I have to go."

She turned away again.  Before she got totally out of earshot, he said, "I saw you watching me."

Loralei stopped.  She turned to face him for the umpteenth time.  At first, she thought he was playing another game.  However, the tone of his voice and the stance of his body told her otherwise.  "I was doing my job," she said sedately as she slowly walked toward him.

He nodded.  "Of course."

"Frank?  What do you want from me?  What can I do?  I'm tired of the animosity, the idiotic head games, and the bickering.  I can't stand it anymore.  What do you want?  Tell me, and I'll bend over backwards to give it to you."

Donovan pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment.  "I can't stop thinking about you, about the last time I kissed you, the last time I made love to you.  I've done everything I could to push you out of my heart.  Nothing worked, not even trying to hate you.  You're still there, still with me, and I can't stop wanting you, needing you."  He remained rooted to his spot.  She stood staring at him in stunned disbelief.  "I've been everything to you that you have accused, and it was done to cast you out of my life.  I don't want that.  Do you know what I want?  Do you know what I really want?  I want to kiss you, and then I want to make love to you."

How many seconds did it take?  How long was it before she was in his arms?  Could anything like that be measured?  She didn't know the answers to any of those questions.  Despite his wounded lip and equally battered male pride, he took her easily and willingly into his embrace.  His lips captured hers gently, but with intense passion.  When his tongue entered her mouth, seemingly making love to it, she pressed her body against his, as if she were trying to become a part of him.

Loralei had begun to lose her sense of balance, space, and time.  At one moment, she was kissing the breath out of Donovan.  At the next one, she was crossing the threshold between the outside hallway and living room of his apartment.  She didn't remember walking anywhere, didn't remember his suggestion that they go to his place.  Had either of them spoken at all?  How is this possible, she wondered as they managed to make it to the bedroom.  They seemed to be working as one entity.  It was weird, scary, but oh so thrilling.  At another moment, they were stripped down and on the bed.  Oh, how she begged him to come inside her.  She didn't have the patience to wait.  Neither did he.  At the completion of the act, at the moment of tremendous release, she began to cry.  She felt like a total, blubbering idiot.  She held onto him for dear life as his full, warm, wonderful lips drank in her tears.  He whispered softly to her, declaring he would never let her go again.