DarkWeb (TEASER ONLY)

Chapter 3

Damp San Francisco night air swirled around us as Tribecca and I stepped into the orchestrated ballet of the gala. Beyond the valets and coat checks, wait staff circled with hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Outside, limo after limo deposited rich couples at the front entrance.

Tribecca slunk through the gala, a gold lamé cougar, mingling with finely dressed patrons, laughing with ones she seemed to know. From time to time, a familiar face from my days on the debutante circuit swept past. It felt strange to be at a social event after all this time, to drink a glass of champagne. Month after month, detached and thoughtless as I could make them, had stretched into years since I'd lost the last of my family. Tonight, I am not really me, I thought.

"He's not here," Tribecca Jones grumbled around 10:30. "Security hasn't checked him onto the guest list."

My heart, floating in a sea of champagne bubbles around my sternum, sank. Well, at least they promised to put in a good word with Jason's parole board.

Tribecca tapped her phone. I caught sight of my boss and owner of Gold Medal Equestrian, Kay Strand. She stood in the corner, deep in a heated discussion with a small, balding man I didn't recognize.

"Wait," Tribecca grabbed my forearm with a well-manicured claw. "Mark's not here... but Davis Donahue is."

My boss turned from her argument and caught me watching. A deep frown creased her face. A flush crept up my neck, although I'd done nothing wrong.

"Who's Davis Donahue?" I murmured.

Tribecca'd gone still as a cat crouched over a gopher hole, her tail practically twitching. "Follow me." She cut through the glitzy crowd. "Davis, darling!"

A man turned at the sound of her voice. He had all the right parts— broad shouldered, square jaw, and hollowed out cheeks— and held himself like a guy who knew he looked good. He took his time, taking me in from head to toe.

I'd seen a hundred guys try to pull off that alpha-as-fuck body language. Usually, it rolled right off me. This time, I felt a twinge when I met his eyes, this fleeting sense of déjà vu. He must have sensed it, because a smile tilted the corner of his mouth, as if he knew something about me I didn't. Later, I would tell myself he only noticed my similarity to his dead sister-in-law. That was, after all, the whole reason I'd attended the gala.

Tribecca patted the buttons of his tux and drawled, "It's been years since I saw you jump Howick Falls. I still get chills."

He laughed. "Wow, Howick Falls. That takes me back. Amazing day." His attention drifted back to me. "So who are you here with?"

Tribecca twirled fingers in my direction. "This is Wren Bower. She's a horse trainer with Gold Medal Equestrian. Beautiful rider. Art in motion, I'm telling you. Wren, this is Davis Donahue."

The guy had some serious animal magnetism going on. It pinged itself all over my skin. I ignored it. I had no use for Davis Donahue. He held out his hand, and I gave him a dead-fish return shake so he'd know to can the player attitude.

"Charmed." He drew the word out a beat too long. The smile, decidedly cool, although somehow amused, lingered on my face, flicking over my hair, as if he knew a secret about me. "Horsewoman, huh?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned his attention back to Tribecca. "Tell me your name again, love. I've forgotten it."

Oh God, did Tribecca know him, or did she just bullshit her way into a conversation?

"Davis. I should pout. It's Becca, darling. We met in Africa on safari. I caught up with you at the falls." She did pout, bottom lip out and everything. "I thought I'd made more of an impression."

He slung an arm around her shoulders and said in a confessional tone, "It's only I'm bad with names. Look, I've forgotten your friend's as well. Who are you again, Horsey?" He casually leaned against Tribecca. I stifled an eye roll.

Tribecca elbowed him. "Be nice! It's really not fair all the girls throw themselves at you. How are we supposed to distinguish ourselves?"

"Excuse me," a man behind me said. He smells nice, I thought. As first impressions go, that's a pretty good one.

"Brother!" Davis said. "Didn't think you'd show. Let me introduce you to my friend Wren—"

I turned, knowing it would be him. How many late brothers could there be? This was the good impression I had to make in order to help my brother get out of prison. I crafted my most dazzling smile and peered into the haunted face of Mark Donahue.

Immediately, I knew he would be the opposite of his brother. No flirtation here, no lightheartedness, no smart-assery. Large brown eyes and a strong nose made him falcon-like in appearance.

My smile disappeared, as if his darkness absorbed it. His caramel hair twisted, unruly, despite the tuxedo's formality. The contrast made him at once both regal and like a creature caged.

He studied me, unblinking and a little predatory. Peregrine, I found myself thinking. If Davis or Tribecca spoke, I didn't hear. Mark Donahue's face paled. The champagne flute fell from his fingers, shattering on the floor between us.

"Excuse me." He turned on his heel and left the ballroom.