by Kate Smith

Holly H. Kincaid strolled through the crowded reception rooms with the single-minded intent of a top-of-the food-chain predator.

As of three minutes ago everything had upped tempo, switched into a higher gear, a hyper-real state where colours took on a glassy sheen. Holly H. liberated a glass from a tray-concealed butler, hoping the bubbly would tone down the fizzing in her bloodstream. She sipped as she zeroed in on the tall blond in the killer suit with a potted palm on his right and a dazzled D-cup brunette on his left.

Then a schmoozing Senator of Something seized advantage of a slight pause in her momentum and latched onto her elbow. Holly H. pasted a smile on her face.

"Sweet Goddess, thou art an oasis to a man parched of thirst in the desert," the Senator babbled. "You are inspiration personified, of epic proportions and lyrical curves . . . ."

Holly H. blamed the dress. Then she blamed Zac for choosing the dress. She would've been happy with basic black and even happier in jeans and a knit top. But her twin had pointed out the advantages of generating as much attention as they could. Hence the ruby red strapless mini-dress and the matching knee-high boots. And Holly H. had managed the attention bit. It happened a lot when you were a six-foot-one blonde. Add the dress and the height-boosting heels and suddenly Holly H. was magnetic.

She briefly considered snapping the fingers on her elbow like stale fettucine but decided that would bring the wrong kind of attention.

"Adorned in dawn's fire to heighten the perfection of honeyed satin masquerading as skin," the Senator blathered.

Holly H nodded absently, indigo eyes narrowed over the rim of her glass as she mapped a route through the shifting throng.

"Lo, she stands amongst us, a veritable Goddess!"

"Actually, you might want to amend that to part-time high priestess of a human sacrificial cult." Holly H. flashed her best kneel-and-worship smile and slid into a conversational eddy among the societal shoal.

Maybe it was her super-charged aura, maybe it was the feral glitter in her eye or the Hell-bent stalk, but the crowd anticipated her approach. There was always a gap ready for the impact of her heels on the moss-toned marble so her stride never faltered, not even when a laugh turned into a choked-off croak. Holly H.'s head whipped 'round but the green-tinged Prince Raahjen avoided eye contact.

Well, well. Nice to know she still made an impression after ten years.

Reaching the wall, Holly H. raised her glass and savoured the explosion of quality bubbly across her tongue. She reassessed her position. Absolutely time to cut in. Any more encouragement and the avaricious brunette would be out of that halter-neck dress and all over Zac like ivy. Holly H. had to give Zac credit for focusing on the face and not the bust.

Such an appropriate word, that.

Holly H. made her move and twined her arm around Zac's waist.

"Darling," Holly H. said to the pouty brunette, "your surgeon is a marvel. Really. One can hardly see the scars. Zac, I believe they're playing our song."

Zac had dusted off his debonair manners and his Wild West-style suit, the one with the long jacket and the purply-black vest, and even Holly H. had to admit her twin looked good. Not as good as Will Smith, but damn good. He raised an eyebrow and tuned into the ripple of guitar chords and the raw vocals. "Dire Straits? That's certainly us. So, you and me babe, how 'bout it?"

"Actually, I was in the mood to jitterbug, but this will do."

The eyebrow flexed quick time before Zac transferred the flute from her hand into the brunette's, and swept Holly H. onto the dancefloor.

By the time the song ended Zac had maneuvered them close enough to the service entrance to enable them to duck through the kitchens and into a spacious linen closet.

"Jitter as in 'bridal jitters?'" Zac asked.

"As in, the bride just up and waltzed right on out of here." Holly H. grinned. The adrenaline was rioting though her bloodstream.

"Is it official yet?"

"Devon's covering as long as possible, and her maid isn't going to say a word."

Zac shook his head. "I so don't want to know how you managed to manipulate the head of security."

"Devon's a sweetie."

"Devon is extremely well-armed and has the muscles of an ox."

"Forget him for the moment unless you want to discuss Ms. Deep Breath back there," Holly H. instructed. "What do you think about tracking down the bride and saving the day?"

Zac considered.

Holly H. knew he was reviewing the profile they'd studied before leaving home. It helped to think of the Triple City States as an exaggerated equivalent of Renaissance Italy, but with plumbing, penicillin and cutting-edge technology. And when you finished following all the alliances, tangled relationships, business deals and corporations, you ended up with two major powers: dal Vantis and Renwood.

Against that backdrop, uniting the dal Vantis heiress, Antonia, with Michael, the Renwood scion, brought stability to the region and in effect turned a brawling guild and House structure into a constitutional monarchy. Hopefully.

Zac's fine-tuned brain processed all the pros and cons in seconds. "Works for me," he said.

Holly H. grinned and watched her twin's eyes brighten as subtle changes in his posture signaled that the buzz was starting to seethe in his system.

*10:07 PM

Sour-faced. with eyes noting the slightest move, Devon blocked the doorway as Holly H. and Zac finished ransacking the bride's apartments.

Holly H. tucked a red-tipped lock back into her fancy coiffure before bestowing one last disgusted look around the central room. Her hands settled on her hips. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," confirmed Zac. He tapped one finger thoughtfully against his lower lip and examined the bride's personal assistant as though Roxanne held the only clue to a lost treasure cache.

Which she might.

Unfortunately, Roxanne was the stubbornly loyal type and disinclined to share.

"Lee would come in very handy right about now," Zac said.

Holly H. considered their erstwhile partner and his ability to charm the ladies. "Perhaps. But Roxy doesn't look charmable."