Page 30 of Clay

She felt him next to her practically pulsing with sexuality. God, she couldn’t wait till this was over, so she could have a taste.

The lobby of the high-rise was as lush, as privileged, as the penthouse. Gleaming marble floors, tasteful accent lighting that complemented in addition to providing illumination and security.

They crossed the lobby, and Clay punched a code into a discreet door half-hidden behind an enormous potted plant, ushering her into a hallway. The walls were white, sterile, spotless. It looked like a surgical suite.

“This connects us with the casino next door,” Clay explained. “Just in case someone is watching the penthouse.”

Ivy couldn’t imagine why anyone would go to that much trouble to find her, but then again, she hadn’t expected to be attacked yesterday either, so she’d go with whatever Clay and SMS wanted her to do, at this point.

The hallway was short, and they exited into a casino floor with the same vibe as the building next door. Understated. Elegant.The kind that made you think of James Bond and martinis and women with innuendo-laden names.

Here she was, hippy Ivy, among the rich and polished. She felt like a country cousin.

With that doubt came a cascade of others. Clay was used to walking in this world. What did she possibly have to offer a man like him beyond sex? Sure, they had chemistry. It was off the charts. But if this was the world he lived in regularly, their similarities ended with that chemistry.

She wanted to make a good impression, she realized. Wanted his friends to think of her as solid, dependable. Not flighty Ivy. The hippie artist. And even though that’s what she was, she wanted to be more for him.

The butterflies in her stomach were in full swarm now.

Clay stopped in the middle of the casino and looked down at her, concern evident in his face. “Is everything all right?”

“I feel a little bit out of place here,” she admitted, shaking her head in self-deprecation. “This is a little rich for me.”

He looked around, scanning the room for a threat, she assumed. “Yeah, not really my cup of tea either.”

She snorted in response, and realized he was trying to make her feel more at ease. Clay and his cups of tea. Both of them were fish out of water here, and that knowledge warmed her inside as little else could have.

He moved them across the lobby quickly toward yet another set of doors. He pushed through them into a high-end conference room. A massive screen took up one wall, anchored by a glossy table and a dozen plush chairs.

In those chairs were his SMS teammates.

Devin Beck sat at the head of the table just as movie-star handsome as she remembered, and a perfect fit into the glitz and glamour of the penthouse and the casino. Right now, he was frowning at the woman to his right.

They both looked up as Clay and Ivy entered. Devin’s expression went from scowl to smile in a heartbeat, and he stood, crossing the space and holding out his hands to her. “Ivy,” he said, his voice warm. “How are you feeling?”

“Bet she'd be better if the circumstances were different,” said the leggy blonde who’d been sitting next to him. She stood and approached, holding out her own hand. “I’m Cali Masters.”

She was long and willowy, but strong in a way that Ivy couldn’t really describe. She looked like she could pick up every single one of the men in the room and not break a sweat doing it. Her blonde hair was cut in a bob that ended just at her shoulders. Smooth and sleek, she looked like this was all just a little bit beneath her. Not that she made you feel small, just that maybe she had places to be and things to do.

Devin stepped aside. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you some coffee? Or something to drink? There are sandwiches on the sideboard, as well as some other nibblers the casino provided.”

Ivy shook her head. The butterflies in her stomach had calmed down now that the team was in front of her. She recognized the woman at the end of the table from yesterday, when she’d been arrested. There was one other man, and boy was he huge.

He dwarfed his chair and everyone around him. He was handsome, just like Clay and Devin, but in a more understated way. He reminded her of a football player, or maybe a lumberjack, all husky and bearded and silent.

Clay ushered her forward with his hand at the small of her back. Warmth rushed through her. He held out her chair then began introductions. “You met Jordan Gonzales briefly yesterday.”

Ivy nodded at Jordan and Clay continued the introductions.

“This is Tate Lyons,” he said, indicating the man at the end of the table.

“Ma’am,” Tate said with a dip of his head. It made her feel about a million years old even though she was probably younger than he was.

“Warren should be here any minute,” Devin said as he seated himself again and Cali followed suit.

“While we wait for Warren, let me bring everyone up to speed on the incursions,” Devin said, his voice grim. “I’ve done a complete sweep of the computers, the security systems, our finances, and anything else you can possibly think of, and we were breached. Hard. If I had to guess I’d say NSA. I left their bugs alone and set up firewalls they can’t get through, but they’ll have to really look for them to see that I’m onto them. We’ll let them think they’re monitoring us by having just enough activity on their side, when instead I’ll be watchingthem.”

Ivy had no idea what they were talking about, computers were not her thing. But Devin seemed pretty pleased with himself, so she had to guess he had the upper hand. Beside her Clay shifted restlessly and she looked at him in surprise. In her experience, Clay was solid, steady, unflappable.

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