Maybe it was a false sensation, but his powerful, muscular frame made her feel safe. Right now she was nerved up like crazy. Salazar had said yes. The fashion show was moving forward. On some level she’d hoped the whole thing would fall apart—that her auburn hair wouldn’t have been enough to tempt the two crime buddies out of their fortified compound. Guess she was wrong. But then again, she no doubt underestimated the typical trafficker’s desire for new product. After the photo shoot, Eve had talked her through the show. Essentially, she’d don three different outfits, saving the worst for last, and she’d walk down about thirty feet of runway to sexy blues music. In between, Rumy’s carefully selected wait staff would ply Arsen and Salazar with some of her finest whiskey. Eve was pretty sure they’d have one powerful security contingent with them. But this wouldn’t be her only audience. She’d have to conceal Rumy’s entire team behind one of the largest disguises she had yet to create.
