LITMIR.BIZ

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      He, on the other hand, was going up in flames on the dance floor.

      So was there any chance in hell of getting her off alone, without that muscle-bound bodyguard hovering over them?

      To do what? Steal a few kisses? That wouldn’t be enough. Not hardly. But he’d probably have to settle for mouth-to-mouth intimacy.

      He stopped thinking about the wisdom of his decision as he moved them across the dance floor, putting as many couples as possible between Ariana and the hulking Manfred.

      He looked toward the balcony. If they went out there, they’d be alone. Of course, the huge windows were a problem. But if they moved around the corner, they’d be blocked by a wall.

      He had almost reached his goal when the lights flickered out again.

      Ariana straightened and drew in a small breath.

      “They came back on last time,” she whispered.

      “Yeah. Give it a minute,” he said reassuringly, hoping that this was another false alarm.

      He waited with his heart pounding inside his chest. When the lights stayed out, he knew that the first flickering of the electricity had only been a warning of worse to come.

      Because this was the disaster he had sensed was coming his way when he’d first stepped into the reception hall.

      Chapter Three

      Maybe this was just another snafu on the part of Boston Power and Light. Or maybe it wasn’t.

      Regardless, the blackout was an instant security nightmare.

      Shane wondered what FBI agent Ben Parker was thinking now. He’d been so sure that everything was under control when the lights had come back on. At the moment, he must be struggling for bladder control.

      Shane looked at the foreign dignitaries around him, now visible only in shadow. With President Stack and Vice President Davis in attendance, the building, he knew, would be on lockdown. Nobody was going in or out until the Secret Service said it was safe to move.

      Unless it turned out there was some hidden danger right here in this room. Like a bomb.

      Various scenarios flashed through his mind as he instinctively moved to protect the woman in his arms.

      He inclined his head so that his mouth was against her ear. “We have to get out of the middle of the floor.”

      “Yes.”

      Obviously she’d had disaster training, and she made no protest as he led her toward the side of the dance floor.

      She turned her head to say in a low voice, “I’ve got to get back to Manfred.”

      “Not yet. It’s too dangerous to move around until we know what’s going on and how the people here react.”

      She raised her head, and he saw her taking in the room and the suddenly darkened world beyond the Hancock Tower.

      “What happened?” she asked.

      “Last time, it was a minor problem at the power company,” he answered. He didn’t want to alarm Ariana, but he’d had a bad feeling about this reception, and he wished he’d paid attention to his instincts.

      At the moment, his gut was telling him that the blackout wasn’t the result of faulty power-company equipment. The emergency was focused on this building. This event.

      Nervous chatter had broken out among the guests at the party, and Shane was pretty sure that the Secret Service had already gotten the president and vice president into a secure location.

      But he recognized the symptoms of panic and knew the crowd was on the verge of chaos. As if to prove the point, one of the female guests started screaming.

      “Stop it!” a man shouted.

      Ignoring him, she broke away from the crowd and ran toward the balcony doors.

      “Dora, come back,” her companion ordered, then rushed after her.

      Still too panicked, she flung the doors open and dashed outside.

      “You have to get her back in,” Ariana whispered. “Before she does something…dangerous.”

      Shane was torn. He wanted to stay by the princess, in case the formally dressed men and women here turned into a mob. Before he was forced to make a decision, Secret Service agents grabbed the escapee and dragged her back inside.

      One of the agents raised his voice. “Everybody, stay cool. We have the situation under control.”

      Let’s hope so, Shane muttered to himself.

      In the flickering light from one of the candles, Shane recognized a tall man standing near him. It was another one of the agents who had earlier spread out through the crowd. “Shane Peters, from Executive Security,” he said, as though he were on assignment here and not just one of the guests. “I have Princess Ariana LeBron with me. Can you give me a status report?”

      “My communications networks say that the blackout has hit the entire city,” the man said. “And many of the suburban areas.”

      “I think it’s focused on this reception,” Shane answered, pitching his voice low so as not to further alarm anybody nearby.

      “How could that be? The whole city’s involved,” the man snapped.

      “It’s a diversionary tactic,” Shane answered. “And it keeps rescue operations from zeroing in on us.”

      “Interesting scenario,” the agent said, then took several steps away, cutting off the conversation and signaling what he thought of Shane’s theory.

      Shane swallowed the curse that rose to his lips. It made him furious when people who should know better had tunnel vision.

      Next to him, Ariana shuddered, and he turned his attention back to her. “You think we’re under attack?” she whispered.

      He stroked a hand slowly along her arm, feeling the goose bumps that peppered her skin. They hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. “I hope not. But I think we have to act that way. Stay with me.”

      “All right.”

      Reaching down, he linked his fingers with hers. Her hand was even colder than her arm, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

      “We have to get out of here,” she murmured.

      He signaled his regret by the tone of his voice. “I don’t think we can. The building’s no doubt on lockdown.”

      She sucked in a strangled breath. “How long do we have to stay in this room?”

      “Until the power comes back on. But believe me, it’s not any safer outside the building. There’ll be cars stuck, traffic jams, road rage, looters and people going berserk because they’re terrified that this is another terrorist attack.”

      Her voice turned high and strained. “Do you think it is a terrorist attack?”

      “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

      As if to confirm his grim assessment of the situation, the sound of several car horns drifted toward them from the street, followed by the sound of a gunshot.

      Ariana shuddered. “That was a gun.”

      “Yes.”

      She kept her face straight ahead and spoke in a low voice. “Are you armed?”

      He suppressed a frustrated sound. “I wish I were. But I couldn’t get through security with a weapon.”

      “So you’re not on duty tonight.”

      “No. I’m just a guest.”

      Before he could make another comment, his phone vibrated again, reminding him that he’d received a text message earlier and

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