Josh's Fake Fiancee (Military Men Book 5)

by Shelley Munro

  “His obsession might not be for a tangible reason.” Nelson’s big shoulders shrugged, and Ashley got the feeling he spoke from experience with a previous case. “You shouldn’t stress about the motive behind Blackwood’s decisions.”

  “You concentrate on your job, and we’ll focus on catching Blackwood,” Gerry said.

  Josh drew her near and pressed a kiss to her temple. “They’re right, sweetheart. You’ve come this far, worked so hard to win this election. You can’t falter now.”

  * * * * *

  Election night

  Stephen Blackwood studied the grimy photo then his reflection in the square mirror on his bedroom wall. He’d pass inspection by any security Awful Ashley set in place since he’d used his initiative to acquire an invitation. Thankfully, no one had discovered the body yet. If his luck held, no one would check for days since the man was a loner.

  He straightened his tie and plucked a piece of lint off his pristine white shirt. Courtesy of the army, he’d learned how to dress and, more importantly, the skills required to protect and kill.

  The constant low-level pain in his head surged in a spike that forced a groan up his throat. His knees buckled briefly before he forced them to hold his weight, to maintain his upright stance. He breathed through the pain with even, incremental breaths. Once the levels became manageable, Stephen checked the time. The attendees had received notification they must arrive and pass through security before nine. They could leave when they wished, but re-entry into the hotel venue was impossible.

  Entering with a weapon might prove difficult, but Stephen remained confident in his abilities. The Australian army had taught him to use his ingenuity under fire to overcome unseen obstacles. With a grin, he picked up the carved wooden stick from where he’d set it against the wall. Then, sliding into character, he made a final check on his wallet, invitation, identification, concealed weapon. Yes, the necessities were in order. He limped to the vehicle he’d appropriated.

  Time to finish this game and gain payback for everything Ashley Townsend had taken from him and his family.

  * * * * *

  Ashley dressed with care for her final public appearance before the election results started to come through. After consulting with Summer, whose opinion she valued, she’d decided on a knee-length yellow-and-black dress with long sleeves. It skimmed her figure and gave her a feminine air without tipping into overtly sexy. She wore ankle boots to project a fashionable edge and left her sunset-colored hair loose to fall in soft waves around her shoulders. As was her norm, she’d kept her makeup subtle, although for the evening, she’d gone with a smoky eye.

  Josh entered the bedroom, dressed in a dark suit. This evening, the police had given him special permission to carry a weapon, although she had no idea where he’d concealed his handgun. Like most men, a suit looked good on him, but Ashley knew the excellent cut of the garment hid strong muscles rather than a body gone soft from too many business lunches.

  Her heart twisted, and it wasn’t only the knowledge her stalker might make his move tonight that bothered her. Now that the election was over, save for counting the votes, how would things play out between her and Josh? She cared for him, and the thought of not seeing him every day hurt. In the past, she might’ve sucked it up and gone with the original plan. Not now. Tonight, she intended to follow gut instinct.

  “Josh, what happens after today? With our engagement, I mean.” She held up a hand when he turned to her and opened his mouth to speak. “I wanted to say something first.”

  He nodded, and tension slid through her. Her hands bunched and relaxed while she sought the right words. Ashley cleared her throat and fixed her gaze on his handsome yet serious face. For once, his eyes didn’t dance with mischief while he waited for her to speak.

  “All along, I’ve tried to remind myself our arrangement is temporary. You took this position as a favor to Matt. The thing is I like and admire you. No, that’s not the truth.” She inhaled and started again. “I’ve fallen for you, Josh. I want… I want to wake up next to you in the morning. To go to sleep beside you at night. And in between spend time with you. If you’re not of the same mind, I’ll understand, but the truth is you’ll be a hard act to follow, Josh Williams. You’ve spoiled me for other men.”

  With her heart pounding, Ashley stopped talking. She fidgeted, her gaze fastening on his face. Why wasn’t he saying something? Anything. Disappointment seared her while the backs of her eyes stung.

  He didn’t feel the same way.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Put you in this position.” How the devil had she misjudged the situation? Her gaze shot to her toes. When it came to body language, she had talent. Her expertise had become an asset in her job and allowed her to read people and act. Maybe Josh had broken her skills, and this time she’d wandered off course. About to retreat, she took one last peek at his face.

  A slow smile bloomed on his lips and mischief sparkled in those eyes of his. He intended to tease her. Disappointment filled her. Regret. Letting him go would hurt, but at least she could bury herself in work.

  “Frog will have words. He threatened to rearrange my face.”

  “This has nothing to do with my brother. This is you and me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Matt needs to butt out of my personal life. I’m an adult, and he has a cheek telling me what and what not to do,” Ashley said, on a roll now. She was in the mood to send her nosy brother a sharply worded email or blast him during a succinct phone call.

  “Yes.” Josh’s smile was broader, and it lit up his blue eyes, drawing her in, stealing her breath.

  “What?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes, I want you in my life. I still have no clue what to do job-wise, but having you as my wife—that I’m certain about. Ashley Townsend, will you marry me?”

  “Are you sure?” Ashley barely breathed, every part of her focused on Josh and his answer.

  “Yes. It didn’t take me long to fall for you. You’re not only sexy and smart, but your determination and work ethic got me. You consider other people, care for them, and even though we might be on opposite sides of the political spectrum, I admire you. Whenever I think of you, I can’t imagine a time when you’re not at my side.”

  “And my political career? If the Labor party gets voted into power, I’ll be the next prime minister. We’d have to live in Wellington for part of the year and Auckland the rest. We’d have to travel, and when foreign dignitaries visit New Zealand, you’d have to stand at my side.”

  “It sounds as if you’re trying to put me off.”

  “I’m not. Walking away from you would hurt, but you must understand what you’d be signing up for by marrying me. Yes, I’d love children, but not immediately. I’ve had my eye on the prime minister job since I was a kid. If I fail this time, I’ll try again. Giving up isn’t part of my vocabulary.”

  “Since we’ve been together, I’ve had a taste of the future. I understand a little of what I might face. Yes to the children, but we have time to plan a family. Things will calm once the cops catch your stalker. I want this, Ashley. I want you.”

  Josh closed the distance between them, and Ashley met him halfway. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her flush with his hard frame. Their lips met, and he kissed her. Softly at first, then with growing passion.

  A knock at the door interrupted. “We need to leave now,” Nelson called.

  “Coming,” Josh replied. “Are you nervous about the results?”

  “No, I did the best job I could. If I didn’t swing the voters around my way, I’ll try again in three years at the next election. I’ll wish the leader of the National party well, congratulate him and his party on their win, and move on. That’s all I can do.”

  Josh stroked her cheek. “One thing, before you go. I love you, and your brother will be difficult. What do you say we get married during your first free weekend? We’ll zap up to Fiji for a long weekend and make our relati
onship official.”

  Ashley considered his suggestion for all of five seconds. Her mother had turned into Bridezilla’s mother during her older sister’s wedding. “Yes. I’ll have Summer block out time in my schedule.”

  “I owe Nikolai a favor and promised to babysit my nephew to allow him and Summer a special night. What if I arrange a babysitter and ask them to come to Fiji as our witnesses? Would you be okay with that?”

  “Done deal. I’ll speak to Summer and tell her it’s my treat for stepping in and helping me with the campaign. We’ll spring the wedding surprise on them once we arrive in Fiji.”

  “I’ll arrange the wedding part,” Josh said. “I’ll have plenty of time to sort out licenses and hotels. The flights.”

  “Ashley. Josh.” Nelson pounded on the door again.

  Josh brushed his lips over hers and clasped her hand. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “We’re gonna be late.” Nelson narrowed his brown gaze on them.

  “We were having an important discussion,” Josh said. “Couldn’t wait.”

  “Right.” Nelson’s tone edged toward a growl. “Normal procedure. Gerry will back up the car and give us an all-clear then Josh and I will escort you to the door.”

  “Thank you, Nelson.” Ashley forced a smile. Tension simmered in the man, which ratcheted up her own anxiety.

  They performed the maneuver they’d perfected over the weeks and were soon driving toward the hotel where the Labor party intended to celebrate or commiserate over the election results. Although tempted, Ashley had refrained from checking the early results.

  “Are you worried you might lose your Manurewa seat?” Josh murmured.

  “No. I’ve worked hard for my electorate, and I’m confident of retaining my majority vote. There is always the possibility of a surprise. That’s what makes this career so fascinating.”

  “Not much job security,” Josh said.

  “I figured I’d go into office administration if I’m ever ousted.” Ashley tilted her chin. She’d consider it a new challenge. A chance to grow. “That’s my backup plan. I’m skilled at scheduling, communication, most computer programs. I figure I could cope.”

  “Okay,” Josh said. “What about me? Help me decide what to do next.”

  “You’re good at security, have a cool head and don’t panic,” Nelson said from behind the wheel. “You could always train to be a cop.”

  “I don’t think Ashley will need her Plan B, which means I’ll be shuttling back and forth between Wellington and Auckland for the next three years.”

  “Personal trainer,” Gerry suggested. “Self-defense classes too. Or you could run classes to prep youngsters wanting to join the army.”

  “You could write a book, the topic being the first lady of New Zealand politics,” Ashley chirped.

  Their laughter provided an escape from the growing tension.

  “Thanks.” Josh groaned. “I can imagine the teasing now. My brother and sister and my mates won’t let me forget this.”

  “You can always change your mind and walk away,” Ashley whispered.

  “Not a chance, sweetheart. You. Me. A Fijian beach. Count on it.”

  Ashley prayed Josh was right because she wasn’t worried about the election results. It was the damage Stephen Blackwood might exact that nagged at her most.

  * * * * *

  Stephen found it laughably easy to enter the hotel ballroom. He limped to the security line and waited his turn. His walking stick tap-tap-tapped on the hardwood floor. Kind of like slow-motion rifle fire. A man waved a wand over his person, and as Stephen had expected, the equipment didn’t issue a single beep.

  Next, a perky brunette, dressed in black trousers and a white shirt bearing a Labor party badge, examined his invitation and compared it to her list. An older man scanned the pilfered driver’s license that Stephen handed over along with his invitation. The man’s gaze studied his face then the photo on the driver’s license before giving both back.

  “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Landish.”

  “Thank you.” Stephen intended to enjoy the hell out of his attendance. In fact, he’d take a safe wager he’d make this gathering memorable for everyone.

  * * * * *

  Nelson’s phone buzzed, signaling an incoming call. A second later, Gerry’s phone played a riff from a popular song. Ashley exchanged a glance with Josh.

  Gerry answered. “Wakefield. What? Yes. Keep us informed.” He hung up. “They’ve discovered a beachside property, formerly owned by Stephen Blackwood’s paternal grandmother. The surname on the property title is different, which is why initial searches showed nothing. We have a team checking. They’ll let us know what they find.”

  “So this might be over soon?” Ashley asked.

  “We should still stay alert,” Josh said. “It’s not over until Stephen Blackwood is in custody.”

  Ashley nodded even as her stomach muscles tightened. This was the biggest day of her life, and Stephen Blackwood was spoiling it for her. A beat later, guilt struck. Robert was dead, and here she was having a pity party. Not cool. She lifted her chin a fraction, her woe-is-me attitude replaced with anger on Robert’s behalf. He had deserved none of this. He’d been so happy, thought he’d found his one.

  Her phone rang from the depths of her clutch, and she fumbled with the clasp to get the call before it diverted to voicemail.

  “Ashley Townsend,” she said.

  “It’s Geoffrey.” Her political colleague heaved out a breath.

  “Geoffrey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  He gasped in another audible breath before he pushed out slow and unsteady words. “I’m at Allen Landish’s house. I’d told him I’d pick him up to take him to the hotel tonight. He’s d-dead.”

  “How?” Ashley’s breath caught, her throat tightening as tension slid through her. Allen had helped her during her younger days as a fresh-faced politician. A blunt man who didn’t suffer fools, but one who held such knowledge and wisdom.

  “Gunshot to the h-head.” Geoffrey’s voice trembled and he swallowed hard. “I’ve called the police. They’re on their way.”

  “Just a moment, Geoffrey. I’ll mention it to my DPS officers.” As she spoke, she lifted her head to Gerry. “Geoffrey is at the house of one of our long-term supporters. Allen is dead. Geoffrey has called the police. He’s waiting for them now.”

  “Let me speak to him,” Gerry said.

  Numb, Ashley handed over her phone. Another dead. This had to be the work of Stephen Blackwood. “Tell the police to search for Allen’s invitation to our Labor party function. It might be a home invasion or robbery, but if the invitation is missing, it’s more likely Stephen Blackwood.”

  Call finished, Gerry handed back her phone and got busy on his own. “I want you to check the guest list,” he barked. “Tell me if Allen Landish has arrived. I’ll wait while you check. Make sure you’re discreet. I’d hate to cause any alarm.”

  Ashley’s heart raced as she waited.

  “He’s there.” Gerry’s powerful jaw clenched. “He’s used the invitation to enter your function.”

  “But it’s after nine,” Ashley said. “We invited three hundred people. We think Stephen Blackwood has killed two people. If the police barge into that ballroom, it’ll place everyone in danger.”

  21 – Danger Stalks Into The Celebration

  “What are we going to do?” Ashley whispered. “Won’t it agitate the man if I don’t arrive at the celebration?”

  Josh cursed softly and with creativity. “Ashley is right. He’ll get suspicious if she doesn’t appear soon. He’s unpredictable.”

  “We need plain-clothes cops in there. If Blackwood has used Landish’s invitation, he would’ve had to show identification and go through the security line. He has changed his appearance enough to pass for Landish.” Nelson pulled up to the curb. “Ring the boss, Gerry. Ask for instructions.”

  Ashley glanced out the window. They weren’t far from the h
otel. A blaze of lights illuminated the forecourt and the two couples having a strident discussion with a policeman.

  “Do we have a photo of this Allen Landish?” Gerry asked.

  “He’s—was—in his sixties. Blond. Blue eyes. Glasses. He had several pairs so I was never confident of which frames he’d wear. He was in a car accident and walked with a limp. His left leg. He carried a walking stick in his left hand.” Ashley paused to clear the croak from her voice, her heart heavy. This had happened because of her. “He dresses—dressed—well and wore a charcoal-gray suit. I mean, he would’ve if it was really him.”

  Gerry passed on the information.

  Ashley’s phone rang. “Mum.”

  “You won your seat with an increased majority. Ashley, your father and I are so proud of you. The voters are ready for a change. You’ve done it. My baby. Running the country. I’m so proud I could burst.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” Ashley said. “I can’t talk now, but I’ll ring you tomorrow, okay?”

  “I understand. You must be very busy. Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. The prime minister. I can’t believe it,” her mother murmured.

  Ashley disconnected. “I won my seat. It sounds as if the Labor party is winning the most seats. I should make an appearance.”

  “No,” Josh protested. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “What if we announce supper earlier than we’d planned?” Ashley asked. “At the very least, it should get most of my guests to safety. I could also enter and speak with people one-on-one. Get them out of the main ballroom. That might make it easier to spot Stephen Blackwood amongst the crowd.”

  “I don’t like this,” Josh said. “It’s too risky.”

  “He’s killed two people. What’s stopping him from taking out more innocents? He’s unpredictable. What if he shoots or stabs guests inside the ballroom? We know he’s clever. Capable. This is my fault. It’s me he wants.”