Twisted (41 page)

Derek’s frank remark caught Sloane off guard. She wasn’t sure how to interpret it, and she angled her head to gauge his reaction. “Do you want to meet her?” she asked offhandedly. “She’s smart, single, and just broke up with her boyfriend. Could be a match made in heaven. So what do you say? Shall I make the introductions?”

One dark brow arched. “Not amusing. And not interested.”

“Too bad. She’ll be impressed when I tell her you’re an
FBI
agent. And she’ll be
really
impressed if you show her your Glock.”

“Tempting.” Derek shrugged, with a glint of humor in his eyes. “I don’t need to flaunt my assets. Any way you slice it, I’m an impressive guy. Women just can’t keep their hands off of me. It’s a curse. But I’m learning to live with it.” He chuckled as Sloane jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “You asked for that one.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I have to like your answer.”

“True.” Derek pressed his palm into the small of her back, guiding her into the room. “You know,” he commented. “That reaction of yours sounded a lot like jealousy. Come to think of it, so did that whole speech about the redhead.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m just making an observation—one that happens to be a real turn-on, by the way.” Lightly, he caressed her back, his fingers warm against the cool silk of her blouse.

Sloane couldn’t help the inadvertent shiver that ran through her. She felt it, and so did Derek.

“Yup, this party is definitely looking up,” he declared. He steered her toward the buffet table. “Let’s get some food and something to drink.” A quick wink. “Once I’m fortified, I can charm throngs of women into bed. Punch?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled. “Not me. That mysterious liquid stuff in the bowl. Do you want some?”

“Sure.” Sloane wished that Derek’s cavalier attitude didn’t make her feel so irked. She wished she didn’t give a damn whom he slept with. She just wished she didn’t give a damn, period.

Derek leaned past her, ladling out two cups of punch. “Stop fuming,” he murmured near her ear. “You’re all I want. If you don’t know that by now, then you’re not just high maintenance, you’re dense.”

Sloane felt his words down to her toes—which irked her even more.

“Still pissy, huh?” Derek grinned as he handed her the punch. “If I play by your rules, you’re pissed. If I tell you I want you, you’re pissed. What you
really
want is
not
to want
me
. Well, that ain’t gonna happen. So just give in to the inevitable.”

“No.”

“Fine. Your choice.” With another offhand shrug, Derek handed her his glass of punch so he could reach around her to fill two plates with food. “There’s just no satisfying you, Sloane Burbank,” he said in a low, husky voice, his breath grazing her hair. “Except in bed. Now,
there
I seem to be getting straight A’s.”

“Say that any louder, and I might choke you,” Sloane warned, accepting her plate of food and taking a pointed step away from Derek.

“I appreciate the warning. I’ll keep my intimate comments to a whisper.”

“Hey, you two.” Elliot strolled over, his plate piled high.

“What, no Krispy Kremes?” Sloane inquired. “Your stomach might go into shock.”

“Nah. Krispy Kremes are for work.
Real
food is for parties.”

“Where’s Lillian?” Sloane asked, her gaze darting from person to person.

“In the ladies’ room. Luke’s waiting outside for her.” Elliot saw Sloane’s expression, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Actually, it’s a good day. I haven’t seen Lillian so energetic in weeks. I think being the guest of honor agrees with her.”

On cue, Luke wheeled Lillian into the room.

Sloane couldn’t deny Elliot’s words. Despite her pallor and obvious loss of weight, Lillian looked pain-free and in good spirits. She had Luke stop the wheelchair several times so she could talk with her guests. Then she spotted Sloane, and twisted around to tell Luke.

He managed a smile as he pushed his mother’s wheelchair over to where Sloane, Derek, and Elliot stood.

If it was possible to age in a matter of days, Luke had done so. He looked positively haggard, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, with deeply etched lines around his eyes and a tight furrow between his brows. It hadn’t been that long since Sloane had seen him, yet his shoulders were stooped as if he were carrying the weight of the world on them. Then again, maybe he was.

“Hey,” he greeted her. “It’s good to see you.”

“Same here.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Then she bent down to do the same for Lillian. “You, my dear lady, look fabulous,” she declared. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to retire.”

“And I’m not sure I’m ready to leave,” Lillian replied with the air of someone who’d made peace with death. “But God has other ideas. So I’ll trust in His decision.”

Silently, Sloane marveled at her courage. “Derek,” she said aloud. “This awe-inspiring woman is tonight’s honored guest, Dr. Lillian Doyle. Her escort, who also happens to be a friend of mine and a great guy, is her son, Luke.” She gestured from Luke and Lillian to Derek. “This is Special Agent Derek Parker. We were colleagues in the
FBI
field office in Cleveland, and we’ve been working together on special cases here in the Big Apple.”

“Now,
that
sounds intriguing.” Lillian’s eyes twinkled as she shook Derek’s hand. “I’d love to ask you questions about those cases, since I find criminal investigations fascinating. But I know better. As Sloane has taught me over the years, everything is either confidential or classified. Both those words mean ‘butt out.’”

Derek chuckled, reaching over to meet Luke’s firm handshake. “We try to say it more diplomatically than that, but, yes, I’m afraid that comes with the job.”

The twinkle vanished from Lillian’s eyes. “Speaking of which, is there any news on Cynthia Alexander? Or is that question taboo?”

“It’s not taboo,” Sloane answered carefully. “You’ve read pretty much all there is to know in the newspapers. Leads are great—if they actually go somewhere. Right now they’re not. But we’re working on it.”

“That must be driving you crazy,” Luke commented. “Spinning in neutral isn’t your virtue under the best of circumstances. And these are the worst.”

“True,” Sloane acknowledged. “I’m having a hard time with this. Especially when I have to update Cynthia’s mother. The poor woman just wants news about her daughter. And I have nothing to offer.”

“Now,
that’s
not true,” Luke countered. “I’ve seen you deal with people—even when the circumstances are more horrible and less hopeful than these. You have a way of getting through to them like no one else can.”

“Thank you,” Sloane replied with simple gratitude. “I hope you’re right.”

“He is,” Derek affirmed curtly. “It’s what made you such an incredible hostage negotiator, and an exceptional agent. And it’s why your leaving was such a huge loss to the Bureau.”

Sloane started, glancing up at Derek and blinking in surprise. He wasn’t one to dole out compliments. And he sure as hell didn’t want to open up this particular Pandora’s box in public. So where was this coming from?

“Turning in her badge was a huge loss to Sloane as well.” Poor Luke was walking straight into the minefield, unaware of the detonator he was about to step on. “You were still in Cleveland at the time, so you and your team probably didn’t realize how torn up she was.”

“Three surgeries and continuing physical therapy. Yes, I heard.”

“I wasn’t referring to her hand,” Luke clarified. “Although she coped with enormous amounts of pain, and rarely uttered a complaint. No, what I was referring to was her life. She loved being an
FBI
agent. And suddenly her career was yanked out from under her. Starting over is never easy. But she pulled it off. She’s got a will of iron.”

“That I knew.” Derek’s tone was conversational, but his jaw was clenched so tight, Sloane wondered if it might snap. “Just as I knew about her reluctance to turn in her badge. What I didn’t know was that you two were such close friends.”

Internally, Sloane winced. She could actually feel Derek’s surging testosterone, manifesting itself in primal male possessiveness. Not only was it totally unnecessary, but it was embarrassing and infuriating.

It was Elliot who came to her rescue. “It was easier for Sloane and me to stay such good friends. I have tons of her high school secrets stored away up here.” He tapped his head. “If all else fails, I can resort to blackmail.” He gave Sloane an affectionate hug. “So far, I haven’t needed to. She’s one hell of a friend.”

“I agree.” Luke’s gaze flickered from Elliot to Derek. Clearly, he was groping for a way to clarify his friendship with Sloane, even as he struggled to get a handle on what the relationship was between her and Derek.

In the end, he opted to try forging a kinship with Derek. “Sloane mentioned that before you joined the
FBI
, you were an Army Ranger.”

“Sure was,” Derek confirmed.

“I served in the army, too, although nothing as elite as the Rangers. I was a combat medic, stationed at Camp Casey in South Korea. But I’ll tell you, I got more training there than I did from all my anatomy and physiology classes and clinical experience combined.”

“I can believe that.”

“Enough army talk,” Lillian said abruptly, reaching up to grip her son’s arm. “I don’t like reliving those days. I worried every moment Luke was overseas.”

“Well, I’m right here now.” Luke dropped the subject like a stone, hell-bent on not upsetting his mother. Instead, he glanced at his watch. “Time to take your pills,” he informed Lillian, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll get you a glass of water and some food. You haven’t eaten a thing since noon.” He gazed questioningly at Sloane, Derek, and Elliot. “Can I get you anything?”

“Thanks, no. We’re all set,” Sloane assured him. “The food is fabulous and the punch is spiked just enough to give it a zing.” She smiled. “But wait for my strawberry cheesecake. It’ll blow the rest of the meal out of the water.”

“I’ve been anticipating it all week,” Lillian assured her.

“On that note, I’ll be right back.” Luke went off to get his mother her sustenance.

“Thanks for bailing me out,” Sloane murmured to Elliot as he wolfed down his food. “I owe you one.”

“So does Luke,” he muttered back. “The poor guy was
way
out of his league, and he had no idea why. He just knew that Derek was about to deck him. Oh, and FYI—in case you’re as clueless as Luke, let me spell it out for you. Derek is crazy about you.”

“More like crazy.”

“Okay, both.”

Sloane and Elliot were laughing when Luke walked back over, carrying a glass of water and a plate of food.

“Did I miss something?” he asked.

“Only my making fun of Elliot’s eating habits,” Sloane hedged quickly. “The way he stuck his head in his plate, he looked like a horse devouring its oats.”

This time, they all laughed.

“So what have you been up to, stranger?” Lillian asked Elliot, after dutifully taking the medication her son gave her and swallowing it down with some water. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“The usual. Slaving over my computer.” Elliot grinned. “Although thanks to my high school buddy here, I’m getting the chance I always wanted. I’m turning my new computer system loose to help capture bad guys. It’s a real rush.” He winked at Lillian. “I’d love to share the details, but they’re classified. Now, how cool is
that
to be able to say. I feel like a guest star on
Criminal Minds
.”

Lillian’s eyes widened. “Are you working on Cynthia Alexander’s kidnapping case? Because everything I read suggests it’s not an isolated abduction.”

Elliot caught Derek’s scowl. “No comment,” he answered quickly. “When it comes to what the
FBI
deems ‘classified,’ if you talk, they have to kill you.”

A chuckle escaped Lillian’s lips. “I can’t let that happen. You’re way too valuable. But I wish you luck.” Her attention was captured by someone across the room, and surprised pleasure flashed across her face. “Speaking of law enforcement, there’s Detective O’Donnelly. What a kind gesture on his part, coming to my party. He retired from the
NYPD
years ago. I’m sure he has better things to do than spend an evening with a bunch of academics.”

“He’s very fond of you, Lillian,” Sloane said. “Remember the debate you had after our last workshop? He probably came to finish it.” Sloane turned to Derek. “Jimmy O’Donnelly was with the
SVU
.”

“We know each other,” Derek replied, swallowing an hors d’oeuvre in two bites.

“Ah. Well, that saves me an introduction, then.”

“Luke, I’d like to say hello. Would that be okay?” Lillian turned to gaze up at her son.

“No problem. I’ll take your plate and your glass, and we’ll cruise on over there.”

“Thank you.” She handed both items to him. “Will you excuse us?” she asked the rest of the group.

“By all means,” Sloane answered for everyone. “We’ve already monopolized enough of your time.”

“I appreciate that.” Lillian waited while Luke slid her stemmed water glass into the mesh compartment of the seatback bag attached to her wheelchair. It was a wobbly fit, but it was anchored well enough for the short distance across the room. That done, he balanced her plate of uneaten food in his left hand and used his left forearm and right hand to steer the chair toward Detective O’Donnelly.

The water glass survived the trip.

The china plate did not.

Halfway across the room, a member of the catering staff blew by, jostling Luke’s arm just enough to upset his balance.

The china plate toppled from his hand, spilling its contents, and striking the steel frame of the wheelchair as it fell.

The plate shattered into a half-dozen pieces, all of which flew out in different directions around the wheelchair. Luke grabbed for the broken pieces, deflecting them away from his mother. He actually caught two of the larger chunks in his hand, then rapidly dropped them as the jagged edges sliced his palm.