Zara looked incredible the next day. As much as I wanted to let my mind run wild, she was my focus now. And her red tuxedo was thunderous. A high collared, white lace blouse beneath brought a spark of femininity as well as some Christmas charm. The pants were long enough to cover her high heels entirely and she looked like some kind of sultry Mrs. Claus.

"What are we thinking for hair and makeup?" she wondered, eyeing herself up in her full-length mirror with obvious satisfaction.

"Hair goes up, I'm thinking a bun like you normally have it. I found some little snowflake pins that we can poke in if you are feeling it. Makeup is going to be simple. Your tux speaks enough. I would do a high gloss lip and some subtle shimmer on the eyes," I rambled.

A door opened and closed when Jasper entered the dressing room. While his wife was dressed to kill – festively of course – he looked as casual as ever, apparently opting for a lazy day with Dallas. "You look stunning," he praised, taking his wife's hand and giving her a little twirl.

"You don't think I'm going to fill tabloids with this look, do you?" she asked.

"Of course, you will," Jasper murmured. "You're here to make history, my love." His voice was filled with pride and his eyes filled with love. Then, he turned to me and all of that faded away. "Are you done prepping? I need to brief you on your assignment."

I had to get ready for the gala myself, but my wine-coloured gown would have to wait. What the hell had Dex done to make him my assignment? And how was I supposed to deal with him being my date after I had pretty much spit in his face and told him to fuck off? Most importantly, how was I going to use this to get access to information that would get me closer to my mother?

Jasper led me to a secluded part of the palace, guiding me to a small room that was not too far from mine. And seeing Dex's stuff splayed out on a four-poster bed, knowing that he had been here, right under my nose the whole time, felt like an insult. It made me feel a little better when Dex's expression was one of shock.

"London, what are you doing here?" he blurted as if he had more right to be in Zara's palace than I did.

"Care to fill us in, Jasper?" I asked, trying to keep the venom out of my voice.

"Well, obviously, you know that Dexter received a threatening letter," Jasper began. I did my best not to flinch, but I was no match for the agent within Jasper. He took one look at my face, quirked one of his eyebrows, and sighed. "Okay, guess not."

"I said that I'm not worried about the letter. Besides, the letter is gone." Dex's protest was weak at best.

"Ah yes, the vanishing letter," Jasper said. "Just because evidence is gone, doesn't mean that the case stops. And, I feel that if you were concerned enough to come to me with it, then it must have some merit. As someone who works in protective services, I need to take all threats seriously. If we dismissed this as nothing and something happened to you, I would never forgive myself."

I felt like I had been punched in the chest. When had this happened? I almost opened my mouth to demand why Dexter hadn't told me, then remembered our last meeting when he had shown up at my house. How could I reasonably expect him to come to me after something like that? I had been so caught up in my own drama I hadn't even considered that something could have happened to him.

"Great, now that we have that covered, we can move along. I know that you were barred from any work within the organization, but you are clearly not thriving. This is going to be a good distraction so that you can focus on something other than your mom."

Brown eyes snapped to my face. "Lonny, what happened to your mom?"

"Oh Jesus Christ," Jasper groaned, scraping a hand over his face.

"Can you just explain what I need to do?" I said, hoping I would be able to cut down any excess conversation.

"It's fairly simple. A threat was received. You are going to control and monitor the situation. With Dexter becoming moderately successful overnight there are a lot of angles to examine, however, the concern levels seem relatively low. I'm not asking you to solve anything, it's not the expectation. But you will be there if anything happens and you will put yourselves in the public eye together to make sure that you are an automatic deterrent. Since you guys are such great friends, I thought this was the easiest thing to do. Your cover now is that you are dating so you have an excuse to be together all the time."

Had I been paying attention, I might have felt panic or uncertainty twist at me.

Instead, I only heard the opportunities.

"Great, so I get access to the computer system and—"

"You get access to me," Jasper announced. "Anything you want goes through me."

"Jasper—"

"This is a distraction, you little alligator. Don't try to spin it into anything else. Now, you two need to get ready. Zara has a thing about tardiness." The words were strong and confident, but I didn't doubt that he was grateful for an opportunity to bow out.

"London, what the hell is going on?" Dexter demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing," I shot back. The way he instantly clamped his mouth shut told me enough. "Clearly, this isn't going to work. Regardless, we are going to get through tonight. Considering you are the guest of honor, I'm assuming you have something decent to wear. I have to get ready, but I will be waiting for you. And whether either of us like it or not, we are going to act the part tonight."

A short while later I was admiring my figure in my red dress. The off-the-shoulder sleeves accented my collarbones – though I was still worried about them being too prominent – and the mermaid style hugged my hips nicely before flaring at my feet. Emerald green was big this year and I was sure I would see dozens of gowns just like the one I had worn to the wedding, so this rich number was almost an automatic choice. My hair tumbled down my back in waves that looked carefree but had really taken an hour to tend to. A dramatic lip and winged eyeliner wrapped everything up neatly.

Dex arrived perfectly on time, looking stylish in a tuxedo that I'm assuming Zara picked out for him. I forced myself to ignore the breath that wanted leave my lips, only making time to grab my clutch before pushing onward.

The gala was small by royal standards I suppose. There was about fifty people in the ballroom which had been decorated to the fullest extent. Garlands on the piano, poinsettias in every corner, glowing trees in every open spot. It was almost impressive that it was still tasteful. But the décor was the farthest thing from my concern.

I walked into the ballroom with Dex's hand in mine. Touching him should have been natural and easy. Now it made my shoulders bunch up. And I wasn't the only one suffering, his hand clammy in mine. He had always hated public events of any kind. I was certain that he had argued with the monarch a dozen times before giving up. Or, alternatively, this was such a massive accomplishment that he was simply willing to eat his embarrassment for the sake of his success.

We had always talked about him going pro with racing, but back then it had always seemed like a distant dream. Everyone aspired to make their most treasured hobby a career, and here he was, doing it for real.

And I hadn't even known.

Just like I hadn't known that he received a threat.

My head was on a constant swivel throughout the duration of the party. My ears strained to grab every bit of conversation, because, even though I would have to decline this assignment, I was still going to do my best. Who came to congratulate Dexter? Why? What were his teammates like? What was his co-pilot's name? How long had he been driving? Who was the most likely person to threaten Dex? Was it because of his new found fame or something else?

"Your girlfriend has nowhere to sit," some piped up after we had moved to a secluded corner of the ballroom, finding two arm chairs and a loveseat for a quieter conversation. Apparently the other three men were a part of Zara's current driving team, the team that specialized in another sector of racing.

"I'm fine," I assured. Which was true, my feet hurt in my heels, but I had a better vantage point this way.

"Don't be silly, here have my seat," one of the men suggested, already moving to stand.

"She can sit with me," Dexter announced. And after years of knowing this man, I could hear the venom in his voice. "She won't mind a little bit of snuggling." He knew it was the last thing I wanted. Hell, it was probably the last thing he wanted just the same, but if it was going to make me squirm, he didn't care. And I didn't have any valid reason to protest when he pulled me down onto his lap.

I used a giggle to cover up the annoyed sound I actually wanted to make and did my best to act natural while adjusting my body. Dex's hand settled on my hip as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have me like this. Realistically, after sucking him off, it should have been.

"So what do you do, London?" the F1 driver asked.

"I'm a student as of now."

"Oh, wonderful. What are you studying for?"

"A degree in the arts, majoring in fashion." It was a lie obviously, but one that kept people from asking too many more questions. It was no secret that a good portion of the population assumed that art degrees were useless.

And just like that, the conversation glided away from me. the men began discussing the best tire options for different race stages and my mind went back to work. Was it someone in this room that had threatened Dex? What was the exact nature of the threat in the first place? Jesus Christ, I felt like I had far too many unanswered questions to make any progress or to do a mildly competent job.

I didn't even notice that I was squirming to get a better view until Dexter's fingers tightened on my hip. "Sweetheart," he murmured. I'm sure he just meant it to be a non-committal form of endearment, but my mind immediately went to staring up at him through my eyelashes, his hard cock in my mouth.

I froze for a moment.

Then I remembered that he was the one who pulled me onto his lap in the first place. He wasn't the only one who could play games.

I remained still for a moment, gaging how attentive the others were to us. Though Dex was the guest of honor, they seemed to wrapped up in themselves to really care. Everyone else in the ballroom had broken off into smaller groups or were chasing Zara in an attempt to flatter her. Then I angled my body just perfectly, making sure that he was under me just so, then moving my hips in tiny motions that would be undetectable to anyone but the man beneath me.

It was meant to be a tease and it was meant to only get into his head. However, I couldn't deny the affect it had on me just the same. I felt his rigid chest behind me, each breath that he sucked in as I rocked so carefully. Muscular thighs were beneath my legs, clenching when I moved just the right way. And there was no denying the erection that was slowly growing under my ass.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice no longer so sweet. I couldn't tell if the hand on my hip was trying to stop me or simply guide me in a new direction.

"You had no problem sneaking out of the wedding early," I said.

"This is for me. I can't leave."

"We'll come back, no one is paying attention."

"You are going to sit still and behave or I'm going to have to teach you how to listen."

~~~Distraction Section~~~

Sorry for the lack of a post friends! I started a new werewolf book (which I am also posting today! Yay!) which has taken up a little bit of my time. I'm also slipping into tax season so things may get a little rougher, just so you know!

Question of the Day: What is the best compliment you have ever received?