Page 68 of Belgian Betrayal

“Deputy Prime Minister Blackhurst has arrived,” Ace announced in Fearghas’s ear.

A moment later, Ace came on the radio again. “Cassandra Miles just stepped out of a vehicle and is on her way inside.”

Fearghas glanced toward the door to the ballroom.

Blackhurst entered by himself and greeted his host, Lord Jonathan Stanhope. He leaned close and said something strictly for Stanhope’s ears.

The host gave Blackhurst a brief nod and turned his attention to the next guest in line.

Blackhurst strode into the ballroom, his shoulders back, his head held high as if he owned the place, not Stanhope.

Cassandra Miles entered the ballroom in a form-fitting black gown that molded to her body from breast to toe yet swayed easily with every step she took. She smiled at Lord Stanhope, letting him take both of her hands in his. He lifted one to his lips and pressed a kiss to the backs of her knuckles.

She laughed lightly and pulled her hand free before moving on.

Stanhope’s gaze followed her as she joined a small gathering of men in tuxedoes near the bar. They moved to make a space for her to enter their group. One man darted out, ordered a drink at the bar and returned moments later to hand it to her.

She took the drink and smiled at the man.

The socialite knew how to command attention. A woman like Cassandra would be an asset to any team. Too bad she appeared to be involved in something as dangerous and deadly as illegal arms sales and murder.

Fearghas looked away from Miles and turned his focus back to Catya.

Who should have been with Dmytro…

Dmytro stood talking with a man, his eyes a little wide, his stance tense as if he were uncomfortable.

Fearghas glanced at Hank. “You got this?”

Hank slid his arm around his wife and nodded.

Fearghas crossed the floor to Dmytro and broke into the conversation.

“Chef Federov, I’d hoped I would catch you this evening,” Fearghas said. “I have a question about one of the recipes I found in your book. Could I steal you away for a moment?”

“Of course. I’d be happy to help you.” He turned to the man in front of him. “Please, excuse me.”

The man he’d been talking with frowned.

Dmytro didn’t let that bother him. He hooked Fearghas’s arm and walked away.

“Thank you,” Dmytro said. “That man is a chef in London. He wanted to know how I made my Chicken Kiev so special. I told him it was a secret recipe. He wouldn’t accept that answer and started talking about how he made his and the ingredients.” Dmytro leaned close. “I’ve never made Chicken Kiev. Other than chicken, I had no idea what ingredients to use.”

Fearghas chuckled. “You looked like you could use a lifeline.” He looked around. “Where’s your date?”

Dmytro glanced around as well. “She said she was going to the toilet.” He checked his watch. “I would have expected her to be back by now. She has been gone at least five minutes.”

Fearghas’s gaze swept the room. “Which way did she go?”

Dmytro tipped his head toward a door leading off the side of the ballroom.

“Something wrong?” Ace asked in Fearghas’s ear.

“I’m not sure. I don’t see Catya.”

“I still show her listening device as working,” Ace said. “Although it’s been a few minutes since she’s said anything.”

“I’m going to look for her,” Fearghas said. “Hear that, Hank?”

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