Nodding, I lean over and grab my coat and purse from the back of the chair, then quickly pull out several bills. “Seriously, I’m good.” I drop the cash on the counter and glance up at Den. “Put me down. I can walk on my own.”
He doesn’t even look down at me. “I don’t trust you’ll keep your word.”
A part of me is insulted by his comment, but another part knows he’s right. I’d sit right back down on that barstool and consume the second wine I ordered in the hopes it would help me decide what to do. I fold my purse and coat to my chest, knowing he won’t back down. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Den starts to turn when the bartender says, “Look, if you let her walk out of here of her own accord, I won’t have to report this to those police officers on their way into this bar.”
He frowns at the glass door and the two cops approaching, then glances my way, his tone low, but firm. “The last thing your family needs is a spectacle, Mina.”
I nod my agreement.
His stance tense, he sets me on my feet, takes my coat and holds it out until I put my arms inside, then rumbles, “After you.”
It’s amazing how sober you can act when you need to. I nod and smile at the police officers as I follow Den out. The moment we’re outside, I turn and head for my car, ignoring Den’s irritation as he calls after me. “My car is this way.”
The cool fall air blowing against my face makes me feel a bit light-headed, but I keep walking. I need space right now. Time to come up with a plan to—I halt at the sight of a woman about my mom’s height and with a similar hairstyle standing next to my car.
Her back is to me, but I don’t want to see. Not after last night’s surreal dream. My breathing ramps and my pulse begins to race, so I quickly pivot, intending to take Den up on his offer for a ride. Instead, I bounce off his rock-hard frame.
As I stumble back and he grabs my arms to steady me, I frown up at him. “Are you following me? Is that why you walked into that bar?”
“You needed a ride. Isn’t that what drivers do?”
I don’t miss the sarcastic edge to his comment as he releases me, but before I can reply, he bends slightly at the waist and gestures toward his BMW diagonally across the lot. “After you, Lady Mina.”
I eye him, unsure if he’s blatantly mocking me or if he’s just being British-polite, but when I see several people gathering at the bar’s main window to watch our interaction, I sigh and do my best to keep from swaying as I follow him to his car.
Considering he’s keeping up the pretense of being my driver, I’m surprised he opens the front passenger door, but I don’t argue and slide into the seat.
I haven’t looked back toward my car to see if the woman near my car has turned around. And honestly, I don’t plan to. I’m too busy trying to clear my vision that has started zooming in and out like a telescope, while Den slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. Am I drunk? How’s that possible? I only had one glass of wine. Shaking my head in confusion, I decide to focus on something other than my own issues. Like the fact I’m annoyed with Den for hanging up on my ex.
Granted, calling Derrick for help wasn’t easy. After he backed out on the whole marriage and fatherhood package, it took time to adjust to his rejection before I fully embraced being a single mom. I love being a mom, but other areas of my life have been full of grief, crushing disappointment, and shocked resentment, so when he started calling a couple months ago, asking to see his daughter, I said yes. Josi only knows him as a friend of mine, which is how I prefer it.
Until today, when my life turned into a complete mess.
Derrick is the one person who can handle Josi for a bit and who also wouldn’t ask me any questions. It’s not like he has room to judge. But then Den went and blew that for me, cutting my time to figure out a plan in half. I have to pick Josi up in less than two hours. How am I supposed to deal with this now?
“I’m your driver?”
Den’s obvious offense draws me out of my worried musings. My head swims when I look his way, so I blink to try and settle it. “Would you prefer I said you were my bodyguard?” I close my eyes and pinch my nose, hoping my head will stop feeling like it’s stuffed with alcohol-soaked cotton. “I’m pretty sure that answer would’ve drawn even more curious gazes.”
“You mean more than the entire room watching?”
I open my eyes to see he’s cut a mocking gaze my way.
Who knew the guy had such a sardonic streak? Despite my wooziness and frayed nerves, I cross my arms, my back straightening. “I’m pretty sure it was the massive guy practically cave-manning me over his shoulder that drew all the attention.”
Den takes a right turn, his expression unapologetic. “If people didn’t recognize you when you walked in, they certainly knew who you were by the time you left.”
Ugh, at least there wasn’t any paparazzi around. My father would flip. Score one for Noble Brit. Unable to think of a comeback, I glance out the window and realize that I don’t recognize this road. Not that I have any intention of going back to work right now, but why aren’t we heading toward my apartment? And why does it feel like the car is moving super slow? I don’t remember Den driving like an old man.
“This isn’t the way to my apartment.”
“That’s correct.”
“Where are we going?”
He turns onto another street, this one a quiet side street with rows of expensive brownstones. Glancing into his rearview mirror, he hits a button on the bottom of it, then slows to a stop. As a garage opens, he says, “To my place.”
If anyone else deviated from where I expected them to take me, I would flip out, but Den has guarded our family for years. It’s in his DNA to protect. Despite my tense nerves, seeing him relaxed in his own home, is suddenly appealing. Who is this man behind his bodyguard persona, who also happens to live in a brownstone with a freaking garage? I know it had to cost a hefty price. My brother must be paying him very well. Den’s so private…so controlled. I’ll bet his place is minimally decorated. Probably modern.
Ugh, why am I even speculating about this? Because you’re avoiding dealing with what happened earlier. My first instinct was to call Sebastian, but I quashed the thought. An hour ago, I refused to call my brother, not about this. But now, I’ve run out of time for alternative options. My stomach churns with my failure, but I know my family will support me. “Take me back to my car, Den. And give me my phone.”
“Not yet.”
When he cuts the engine, I frown in confusion. As a bodyguard to my father first, and then to Sebastian and Talia’s family, Den has always done what was asked of him, even if he didn’t agree with it. He has never challenged a request, at least none that I can recall. What gives? When Den hits the button to close the garage door behind us, a sudden thought hits me and I narrow my gaze. “Did Sebastian send you after me? Is that why you showed up at the bar? Is this some kind of big brother by proxy thing? Give me my phone so I can rip him a new one!”
“You skipped out on your meeting.”
My jaw falls open. “Skipping a meeting doesn’t justify invading my privacy. Also, not that it’s any of my brother’s business, but I had something important I had to do. That…” I pause and sigh. “I’ve turned into a mess.”
“Obviously not your best choice,” Den says in a low tone. Stepping out of his car, he leans over to look at me in my seat. “This wasn’t the first or even the second time you’ve left Sebastian and Talia hanging.”
What’s he talking about? Before I can respond to his comment, he shuts the door, cutting me off. When he walks up the stairs and disappears inside, leaving me alone in the garage, I gape. Did he just judge me?
I jerk open the car door and yelp in pain when the weight of it yanks my arm, pulling me halfway out of the car. Leaving my coat and purse in the seat, I slam the heavy-ass door closed before stomping loudly up the stairs. The noise helps drown out the buzzing in my head, and at least my vision has stopped zooming. I stil
l have to grab onto the handrail a couple of times before I reach the door, but otherwise my head feels a bit clearer. Good thing, because I’m ready to cut that arrogant bodyguard off at the knees.
The moment I walk through the door and snap, “I wasn’t done talking, Den!” he grabs my hand and yanks me forward, hauling me over his shoulder.
“What the hell! That cave-man comment was a joke. Put me down, so I can yell at you face-to-face, damnit!”
“You have to pick up Josi soon,” he says calmly as he starts climbing a flight of stairs.
“I know that. No thanks to you!” I shoot back. As much as I want to pummel his lower back with my fists, or better yet, bite the hell out of his hard butt to get him to put me down, when my world tilts and I spy wooden steps through my wild mess of hair, I panic and wrap my arms around his muscular waist instead. “Don’t you drop me, you overgrown Brit.” Scared to death, I press my face into his perfectly pressed dress shirt, growling in anger. “My brother is going to kill you for scaring the shit out of me!”
“He should be giving me a bloody medal,” he grumbles just before he steps onto a level floor, then walks into a room. “You need to stop depending on your family to clean up after you. And it’s going to start with taking care of your own obligations and responsibilities.”
“How dare you judge me! You have no idea what’s going on in my life.” I try to see where I am, but all I can make out is a herringbone-patterned hardwood floor as he yanks my heels off my feet and tosses them down the stairs.
“Those are thousand dollar shoes!” Furious, I kick my bare feet harder as he turns and takes a few more steps, then quickly sets me down on a hard, cold floor.
Just as I push my tangled hair out of my face and righteous fury hisses through my teeth, I’m hit with a pounding spray of cold water.
“Uuuuuuuuggh!” I screech and swing my fists. My hits bounce fruitlessly off his hard shoulders as he holds me under the full blast of the shower. Sputtering against the water hitting my face, I yell, “Are you insane? My brother is going to kill you!”
“Your little girl is expecting you to pick her up.” I shiver as he continues, his expression as unyielding as his hold. “And you’re going to do so sober.”
“I’m not drunk, you judgy asshole!” I bellow at him and manage to yank on his ear before he pulls back with a grunt. “I had a glass of wine before you arrived. One freaking glass. Turn off the water, Den!”
He scowls, his brows pulling together as he turns the faucet off. “You could barely keep your eyes from rolling in your head in the car. Your pupils were dilated. Are you high too?”
“Hell no, and fuck you!” I yell, trying my best to get free.
“Your hands shook like a junkie waiting for his next fix,” he continues, unaffected by my fury. “You were definitely drunk enough that you called the man who didn’t even bother to show up for Josi’s birth.”
I’m so surprised that Den knows that about my ex that I’m struck speechless for a second, until a shiver of cold rips through my body. “Wh—why do you even care?”
Den’s golden eyes soften and he loosens his tight hold on my arms, his warmth seeping through my dress sleeves’ cotton material. “Do you not realize that if he learned you were drunk today, that could give him ammunition against you? He could claim you’re an unfit mother and file for custody.”
My stomach tilts and my lips begin to quiver. His statement hits me harder than a jolt of ice water ever could. “He would never do that. He didn’t even want to be a father.”
“Your daughter is worth billions, Mina.” The judgment in his expression shifts as his fingers flex on my arms. “What were you thinking?”
Somehow, I liked his anger better. The disappointment lacing his tone twists my stomach with guilt. Even if sleep deprivation contributed to my inebriated state, there is no excuse for jeopardizing my daughter’s well-being. Before I can speak, he sighs and shakes his head.
“Skipping out on work meetings for a rendezvous in a seedy hotel, then getting pissed during work hours? Whatever’s going on with you? Whoever this chap is? He’s dragging you down. Ditch him and get your life sorted. You don’t need Sebastian. You need to do this yourself. This is your mess to fix, Mina. Get yourself straight for Josi.”
Oh, shit! He knows about the hotel? My body tenses all over again. His perceptive gaze is lasering through me…as if he’s sifting his way through the ugly bits of my mind that I’ve hidden from the world, especially from my family. They don’t know how messed up I am. How little I sleep. Too many dreams that turn into nightmares. Nightmares that feel so real. They would lock me up and take my daughter away from me.
“So you were following me,” I say in a much calmer tone than I feel as I swipe my wet hair away from my face. When he nods, I feel like such an unworthy failure that my righteous anger saps right out of me. All I want to do is draw on the solid strength of his hands holding me. “You don’t understand. I wasn’t at the bar to get drunk. I was there trying to form a plan to deal with this myself. I just can’t figure my way out of this.” My bottom lip starts to shake, so I bite it and look away, hoping he can’t see that I’m barely holding it together. “I don’t want to go to jail.”
Chapter Five
Den
“Jail?” My gaze snaps to her mouth where her lip is twitching nervously, and I frown that I notice how soft her lips are. “What would you be arrested for?”
Her brown eyes slide to me, fear swirling, before she glances away once more and whispers, “Murder.”
My hands instantly tighten on her slight frame, my protective instincts kicking in. I expected possibly a lovers’ quarrel. Or maybe the bastard broke it off and that’s why she was so upset, but not murder. Bloody fucking hell. I grab my towel off the rack, my movements quick and efficient as I wrap the oversized length completely around her. “Did you accidentally hurt someone at the hotel?”
“What?” Her eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head. “No. I didn’t hurt anyone, but...” Tears spill down her cheeks and she starts to shake all over. “I messed up so much, Den. I should never have gone.”
I quickly lift her in my arms and carry her into my bedroom. Sitting on the end of the bed, I set her on my lap and push her hair back, my tone calm even as my whole body tenses with worry. Something is very wrong. I need to get her talking before I can bring Sebastian into this. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened. Start from the beginning.”
She takes several breaths to calm herself, then closes her eyes, speaking slowly as if playing it all back in her head. “I was at work, preparing to come to the meeting with Sebastian and Talia, when someone I never expected to hear from called my office phone.” Her eyes fly open and she looks at me. “I needed to know, so I went.”
“Who called you?” My brow furrows. “And what did you need to know?”
“I lost…” Mina cups a shaky hand over her mouth and her gaze glazes over with tears. “There was so much blood.”
I cup her jaw and make her look at me. “What happened, Mina?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but her teeth start to chatter and a hard shudder rips through her. I stand and set her down on the floor. “You need to get into some dry clothes. I’ll put your dress in the dryer.”
When she nods, I step over to my closet and pull out a clean sweatshirt and casual trousers. She takes one look at the trousers and shakes her head. “I’m at least ten inches shorter than you. A pair of shorts might work better.”
Nodding my agreement, I grab a dress shirt and new tie, then hand her the sweatshirt and athletic shorts before I walk downstairs.
While I wait for Mina to change, I put her shoes by the couch, then slip into a dry shirt and tie. An image of Mina sputtering her fury in the shower flits through my mind as I put on a kettle for tea, but I refuse to feel guilty for giving her the wakeup call she obviously needed. Evidently, even more than I realized. What the hell happened in that hotel?
> I check my phone for the first time since Elijah sent me Mina’s location and see a new text from Sebastian.
Where’s your update on my sister?
Any truths I provide at this point will result in him storming over here to demand answers. I send a general response.
Mina met a friend, then ran some errands.
Who did she meet with?
Evasive is best.
My job is to keep Mina safe, not report her every move.
You definitely want to be fired.
I think one person asking Mina questions is enough. She might shut down with too many of us demanding answers, so I ignore his last response. Just before I slip my phone back in my trouser pocket, another text pings. This one is from Talia.
Do we need to be worried, Den?
I won’t lie to her, so I send the only answer I have.
I don’t know yet, but I’ll stay with her until I have answers.
I’ll give them feedback once I have something to report. Right now, all I have are questions. And growing concern by the minute.
Just as I glance at my watch, Mina walks down the stairs carrying her wet clothes.
Without a word, I take her clothes and put them in the dryer. On my way back to the living room, I find her standing in front of the gas fireplace holding her hands out to soak up the flames’ warmth. With rolled up sleeves and the hem of my sweatshirt hitting her mid-thigh, she looks so petite as she lifts on her toes to stare at the landscape artwork on the wall above the mantle.
My lips quirk at the appealing sight she makes with the fire as a backdrop. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m glad she passed on wearing my shorts. They’d be trousers on her and it would be a sin to cover up such attractive legs and tiny ankles. She might be my charge, but I’m not blind or dead.
I am, however, a professional, so I clear my throat and start to speak when the kettle begins to whistle.
Noble Brit Page 3
