Worse, fundraisers required a lot more social interaction than auctions. With no main event to keep people occupied, everyone would want to talk and network and generally pry into one another�s business�all things that could get her noticed if she didn�t keep her story straight. She�d have to really be on her game, and the "attorney" cover felt too complicated, too easy to screw up.

It was a lot to consider.

But like all of Rudy�s "requests," refusing wasn�t really an option.

"I want a driver," she said finally. "He has to stay within a mile of the home at all times."

"Absolutely," Rudy said.

"I�m not sitting in weekend traffic on I-87, either. Get me a room in town for Thursday night."

"Consider it done."

"I�ll need a new dress."

"Of course."

"Shoes and accessories too."

"You�ve got the credit card�go crazy." Rudy sipped his drink, eyes sparkling over the rim of his glass. "Any other demands, kiddo?"

"Just one." Charley leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. "After this job, I want a vacation. Three weeks in Spain, all expenses paid. And that�s for me and my sister. Nonnegotiable."

Rudy narrowed his eyes, but he was already nodding. "Do the job right, and you�ll be rewarded."

He swept the surveillance photos and floor plans back into his folio, leaving Charley with the envelope containing her fundraiser ticket, map, and details about her identity. She stuffed it into her purse, glancing once more at Travis.

"I�m so glad you�re getting in bed with us on this," he said, flashing another creepy grin.

Other than the forged ticket and surveillance details he�d provided, she couldn�t figure out why he was still here.

"What�s your involvement, exactly?" she asked.

The look in his eyes was so gleefully menacing, she half expected him to unhinge his jaw and swallow her whole.

"I�m your driver, baby." He reached over and squeezed her knee, a promise and a threat. "Just you and me, like old times."

The cool, white bedding was the best invitation Charley had gotten all night.

After following her into the elevator at Rudy�s, Travis had spent the entire ride down groping and pawing, pressing her against the wall like a dog in heat. He�d stopped short of climbing into the cab with her, but that was only because she�d slammed the door in his face.

A long, hot shower helped calm her nerves, and now Charley sank into her luxurious down pillows, ready to put that part of the evening squarely in the rearview.

But the oblivion of sleep wouldn�t take her. Her mind was too busy racing through the details of the fundraiser: the cover story she�d have to embellish, the risks she�d have to anticipate, the contingency plans, the backup contingency plans. With Travis as her driver, she couldn�t leave anything to chance.

After an hour of tossing and turning, she finally got out of bed, clicking the remote to open the blinds. Thirty stories below her windows, the streets of Park Avenue pulsed with nightlife, the car horns a muted symphony through the glass.

She wondered if Dorian was awake. He�d said he had a house upstate as well as a penthouse in Tribeca, a Manhattan neighborhood she couldn�t see from her place on Park Avenue. As the cabs raced by below, she imagined one of them ferrying her downtown to his apartment, straight into the blissful heat of his touch. JrNovels.com