She fought to move past him.
He blocked her way, wrapping his arms around her as she tried to step around him, holding her tight as she fought him.
“I need to go. I need fresh air.” Her voice rose to a panicked note. “I can’t look at you right now. How could you suggest— You don’t know my father. He’s a minister. He loved my mom.”
“You’re right. I don’t know.” Jason held her tight against him as she struggled to get away. If she left the cabin, especially distraught as she was right now, she’d be an easy target, never mind that she would have no idea how to navigate the twisting roads through the foothills back to town. “I don’t know why anyone would try to kill you, either, but someone is.”
Ava tried a moment longer to twist away; then the fight stilled from her slowly as her efforts gave way to sobbing. She pressed her face against his shoulder. “He wouldn’t,” she whispered, then sagged downward so that Jason had to support all her weight just to keep her upright.
Unsure what else to do, but certain he ought to try to comfort her, he rubbed her back gently and thought frantically for something to say. But what was there? Someone had tried to kill her with a car bomb that morning. When that hadn’t worked, he’d tried to run her down with a car. If the killer had succeeded in a hit-and-run before, it would make sense he’d fall back on that plan when his first attempt failed.
Determined to ease her agony, though he didn’t know what else he could possibly do to comfort her, Jason asked, “Can I pray with you?”
Ava shuddered against him, not answering at first. Finally she turned her face so that his shoulder no longer muffled her words. “No. God doesn’t listen. He doesn’t care about me.” She choked back tears and buried her face in his shoulder again.
Jason simply held her, too stunned to know what to say. He’d watched her in action at enough weddings of the Christian royal family, as she’d paid lip service to God and said all the right things, he’d assumed she was a person of faith. Her father was a minister, after all, and she’d grown up in the church.
He pulled her closer to him and rubbed her back again, mulling over this newfound surprise. The bitterness behind her words seemed to indicate that Ava had tried praying before, but somehow, instead of finding comfort in the midst of her painful experiences, she had lost her faith. Jason’s mouth felt dry. What could he do? She didn’t want him to pray with her.
Instead he pinched his eyes shut, held her tight in his arms and prayed silently for her, that God would ease her suffering, that she’d be willing to receive God’s comfort, if she could. And that somehow they’d stop the killer who was after her, before he struck again.
The prayer rose in Jason’s heart without words, fueled by determination and compassion, and something else he hadn’t expected to feel, not around the fiery wedding planner. Something akin to affection, more than friendly concern. Somewhere, buried deep beneath the spiked armor and the prickly words, Ava had a tender heart that had been hurt, badly.
Without meaning to, he thought of the smiling picture of the Ava some time ago. He’d never seen her smile in real life. The prayer surged up from his heart that God would heal the hurt inside Ava. That she could smile again.
* * *
Ava clung to the captain of the guard, burying her face against his strong shoulder as she struggled to fight down the hurt that surged inside her after everything she’d endured already—her fiancé’s betrayal, the loss of her best friend, moving halfway around the globe and starting over, the attempts on her life—and now this.
No matter how much she wanted to believe her father couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything to hurt her mother, she couldn’t deny the validity of Jason’s concerns, especially coupled with the attempt on her life that morning, the glaring “coincidence” between her mother’s death and the attempted hit-and-run.
Much as she wished she could scream at Jason that it couldn’t be true, she didn’t have the heart to protest. His theory made sense. Painful, hideous sense.
And besides that, she couldn’t bring herself to scream at Jason again, not when he’d stared her down through so many arguments and still had the heart to hold her right now. Without his support, she’d droop to a sobbing puddle on the floor. The simple fact was, like it or not, she needed him right now, just as she’d needed his help on the island and his daring bravery on the street in front of her apartment.
Maybe she’d always needed him.
The thought came out of nowhere, filtering through her pain like a fragrant balm, easing her unbearable sadness. This man, this strong, handsome man, had treated her far better than she deserved to be treated. He’d been patient and thoughtful. Granted, he’d yelled right back at her more times than she could count, but she’d goaded him on.
And he’d always fought fair.
With jagged gulps, Ava pulled in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She realized Jason was rubbing her back with gentle, soothing motions. How long had he been doing that? She didn’t know, but gratitude filled her heart. The man treated her so much better than she deserved, apparently out of the sheer goodness of his heart, since his real duty was to the royals.
She peeled her face away from his tear-soaked uniform shirt and looked him full in the face.
“You going to be okay?” he asked her warily.
She nodded, still not trusting her voice.
“Good. I’d like to get back to headquarters. We’ve got security footage of a man who approached the pedestrian gatehouse last evening and asked about you. I want you to see if you recognize him. Are you up for that?”
If it meant a possible break in the case, Ava was up for anything. “Sure. Is it safe to leave?”
“I’ll call for a car. It will take them at least an hour to get here. We still have time to finish our soup.”
As they waited for the car to arrive and Jason’s parents to return, Ava finished her soup slowly, staring at the pictures on the cabin walls almost without seeing. Jason made some phone calls, then joined her as she stood before a large collage of photographs that dominated one wall.
“Are these all family members?” she asked, hoping to talk about something—anything—less painful than the possibility that her father might have killed her mom and even turned on her.
“Yeah. We’re a big family. My parents had five daughters before I came along. They’re all married and their kids are nearly grown now. These are mostly of my nieces and nephews.” He led her toward the hallway, where an older collage bore pictures of a much-younger Jason. “Here’s where my mom keeps the embarrassing shots of me.”
Ava looked with wonder at the goofy boy doing headstands on the sofa, standing proudly next to a dirt bike, grinning at the camera from between his sisters, with pink bows in his hair. She pointed at the snapshot and laughed.
“My oldest sister wanted to be a hairstylist. She liked to practice on me.”
“It’s a good look for you,” she teased. “Your sister knew what she was doing.” She glanced at Jason, expecting a snappy retort or possibly embarrassment, but instead the look on his face made her breath catch in her throat.
* * *
Ava was smiling. Laughing, even. Jason stared as the smile brightened her face from the inside, transforming her appearance. She really was the same person as the pretty girl in the picture on her desk, wasn’t she? But unlike an old two-dimensional photo, she was so much more stunning in real life.
And resilient. Not that he’d expected her to keep crying nonstop, but she’d put her pain away and turned her attention to happier things. It seemed a well-practiced move. But then, if she’d buried her mother a week before she’d arrived in Lydia, she’d obviously had to learn to ignore her pain and put on a brave face.
Her sternness over the past several months now made more sense. In fact, he felt a little in awe of h
er, that she’d served the royal family so faithfully through many happy family occasions, while at the same time silently mourning the tragic loss of her mother. Just as inspiring was the smile she flashed him, however quickly it disappeared. Instantly, Jason felt the old challenge returning.
Growing up, he’d been the family clown, the little boy who could make everyone laugh. Then he’d been the class clown. One smile could goad him to bring on a hundred more, until his father, fed up with his foolishness, had sent him off to a military youth camp to toughen up.
He’d gotten plenty tough, risen to every challenge and fought his way to the very top, to the captain’s desk that had always evaded his father. But he made very few people laugh from behind the captain’s desk. It had been a long time since he’d bothered trying to make anyone smile.
And maybe there wasn’t much sense attempting to make Ava laugh again, not tonight when so many concerns plagued them, but someday. He’d like to see her smile again.
How long he stood there, lost in thought, watching Ava, he wasn’t sure. He heard stomping outside, and voices. “Sounds like my parents are back,” he murmured and turned to the door.
His parents reported all was clear outside.
“I can take the boat back to the marina for you,” his father offered. “We don’t want to leave it in the cove until morning. If anyone spots it, it won’t take them long to find the trail to the house.”
Jason agreed. “Good plan. I’ve called for a car to come pick us up.” He updated his folks on everything that had been decided. While he handed over the speedboat keys and explained to his father the difference between this newer model and the boats his father had driven in previous years, Ava joined his mother in the kitchen.
Deborah chatted with Ava amiably. Jason listened with only half an ear, focused mostly on his conversation with his father, but when he heard his mother mention to Ava for the third time that she was welcome to visit again, he decided he ought to intervene.
“Mom, can you give me a hand in the back closet?”
“Sure.” His mother followed him. “What do you need?”
“I need you to help me find something.”
They left Ava behind in the kitchen. When they reached the closet, his mother asked, “What are you looking for?”
“A moment’s privacy.” He gave his mother an apologetic look. “Could you please refrain from inviting the wedding planner back to the house?”
“It’s too late for that.”
“She’s not some girl I’ve brought by to meet you and Dad.”
“She is a girl, we’ve met her and we like her—”
“You don’t really know her.”
“Do you really know her?”
“Hardly.”
“Perhaps you should get to know her. You’re thirty-three, Jason. I’ll have great-grandchildren before you get married, if you ever get married to anything besides your job—”
Jason had long sensed he’d inherited his argumentative nature from his sometimes-stubborn mother. “Have you been listening, Mother? Ava’s life is in danger. This is hardly the time—”
But his mother only patted his hand and cut off his words. “Your father and I arrived back from our walk in silence. We saw the two of you gazing at each other—”
“We weren’t gazing!”
“Oh? What would you call it?”
Jason wasn’t sure what he would call it, since he wasn’t entirely certain what they had been doing. He’d been lost in thought, considering things he hadn’t contemplated in years, things he probably didn’t need to be thinking about right now given all the more pressing details they had to worry about.
His mother continued, “You didn’t hear us until we made a lot of noise. Whatever the two of you were doing, you were quite wrapped up in each other.”
“I’ve got a job to do.” Jason turned to leave.
“You asked me for help, Jason.”
“That was an excuse to get you away from the wedding planner.”
“I think you need my help more than you care to admit.”
“I don’t—”
“Give this girl a chance. Get to know her.”
“She’s an American. She’ll probably want to return to the States—”
“Not if you give her a reason to stay.”
Jason stared at his mother in wonderment. How many times had he and Ava argued? He was sure he couldn’t stand the woman. And yet the more he got to know her, the more he wondered if all those arguments hadn’t been fueled, at least in part, by a desire to stomp down an unwanted sense of attraction. Whatever it was about the woman that got his blood boiling, his mother had picked up on it. He wished he knew what it was. “Why her?”
“She trusts you.”
“I honestly doubt that.” Jason could think of a dozen things Ava had said that would indicate she didn’t trust him at all.
“I saw more than you realize,” his mother told him flatly. “That girl looks up to you. From what I understand, she needs a friend right now, maybe even more than she needs a guard.”
Jason wished he could think of a sharp retort, but his mother’s words struck home.
“I know you intend to keep her safe, Jason, but promise me you won’t let her get hurt.”
Confused, Jason asked, “What do you mean?”
“She’s afraid of many things right now. Her heart is vulnerable. Don’t hurt her.”
Jason started to leave.
“Here.” His mother pulled a women’s jacket from a hanger. “It’s getting cool outside. You said you needed my help with something in the closet.”
“Right.” Jason grinned, shaking his head as he took the jacket. “Thanks for your help.”
As he stepped back into the family room, Ava turned to him, her eyes wide, questioning. He held out the jacket to her and she gave him a grateful smile.
“I was feeling chilly.” She slipped it on. “How thoughtful of you.” Though her eyes looked wary, when she looked up at him, Jason saw the look his mother had identified. Ava trusted him.
But with all the possible pitfalls that lay ahead, could he prove himself worthy of that trust?
NINE
Ava closed her eyes during the long car drive back into the city. She wished she could rest, but her head spun with a thousand questions, not just about her mother’s death and the attacks against her, but also about the wedding so quickly approaching and how she could possibly be involved without endangering the lives of everyone who attended.
But more than all those questions, which ought to have been foremost on her mind, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling of being in Jason’s arms as he’d soothed her while she cried. When was the last time anyone had held her like that? She’d refused to face her father after her mother’s death. Dan, her fiancé, had held her close as they’d buried her mother. She’d thought she could trust him.
And then? She’d returned from Queen Monica’s vow-renewal ceremony to discover how Dan had warded off loneliness in her absence. Her heart pinched at the memory. How could any man hold her close one day and then betray her so deeply not many days later?
She glanced at Jason, sitting in the front passenger seat, as he barked orders into his phone. He was clearly frustrated by the many dead ends they’d hit, and determined to find answers in spite of their lack of clues.
Her heart swirled with questions. Was she foolish to trust this man? In the wake of Dan’s betrayal, she’d pushed away everyone who might have gotten close to her wounded heart. But months had passed, and time had eased the hurt. Was she strong enough to trust again? Maybe. Looking at Jason’s strong profile against the starlight beyond the windows, she wanted so very much to put her faith in him.
But he’d only ever fought her before. The paradox taunted
her. Perhaps feeling affection for Jason was just asking for trouble. He’d given her little reason to believe she meant anything special to him. That he’d rubbed her back while she cried might have been only an impatient attempt to calm her so they could talk. It met his objectives as the captain of the guard.
Surely she ought to take a step back and think clearly about the situation before she let her feelings run away with her. But then again, as Jason glanced into the backseat, met her eyes and offered her a small, encouraging smile, she wondered if it wasn’t already too late.
* * *
Jason ushered Ava into the royal-guard headquarters, heading straight for the conference room, where their largest, high-definition screen would give him the best view of the surveillance image of the man who’d inquired after her the evening before. Oliver joined them, warning them as he brought up the image, “I’m afraid we didn’t get much.”
Prepared though he was, Jason couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He wasn’t at all surprised when Ava shook her head. “There’s not enough showing of his face for me to recognize anything. Just a bit of jawline, some dark hair. He could be bald under that ball cap for all we know.”
To his chagrin, the man’s jacket and slacks looked utterly generic, nor did the man have any jewelry or tattoos on display. The closest thing they had to a personal clue was the distinctive compass-emblazoned S on his cap.
“That’s a Seattle Mariners cap, same as the gunman who attacked us on the island,” Jason noted.
Ava seemed extremely reluctant to consider the direction the clue pointed. “Most of the men in Seattle have a cap like that.”
“Most?”
“At least half.”
“But this isn’t Seattle.”
“No, but even if the gunman didn’t come from my hometown, it’s common knowledge I’m from Seattle. He could have bought a cap anywhere and worn it to throw us off the real trail.”
Jason suspected Ava only wanted to believe the man hadn’t followed her from home. Still, he couldn’t prove otherwise, nor could he discredit her theory completely. He turned his attention to what they knew. “He’s average height, average build. Same as the gunman who came after us on the island.”
Royal Wedding Threat Page 8
