by Nina Lane
Her stomach dropped. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“Last I understood, there were three hundred guests, with eight people per table. This plan accounts for three hundred fifty people and has a row of tables lined up near the windows.”
“You can blame Julia Bennett for that,” Mia said. “She wanted to add people to the guest list, and of course Polly accommodated her.”
“And why did you open up the adjoining room, which has access to the outside?”
“To create more space, of course. The reception will be in the main hall and foyer, with the doors open to the gardens and courtyard.”
“I was told the courtyard would be closed after the ceremony.”
“That was the old plan.” She crossed her arms, steeling her spine with determination. “Now we need the courtyard for the cocktail hour. There are about a dozen people I’m trying to keep happy here, and if that means opening up the outside, then that’s what we have to do. Why can’t you just reassign your team or whatever?”
His jaw tightened. “Security planning has to be done well in advance to ensure we have all the resources and lines of communication intact. Any break in the chain of command creates a loophole that I won’t tolerate. We need to rearrange the reception layout. I want that row of ceramic planters removed from the courtyard, and I want those tables moved into the foyer. We need to expand the pathways into the garden and create a barrier at the edge of the field. Also, no fireworks.”
Disappointment crashed down on her. Her eyes stung.
“The… the fireworks are a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“They’re not for you,” Mia retorted. “They’re for Polly and Luke. For the whole party. They’ll be way out on the ocean, nowhere near the party itself.”
“Why isn’t the information on the spreadsheet?” Gavin asked. “I just heard about it from Evan Stone.”
“I didn’t want to put it with the other wedding plans in case Polly saw it.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“You forgot to tell me about fireworks?”
The disbelieving note in his voice made her insides shrivel up. Of course Mr. Stoic Regimented Commander would never forget anything.
“I’m not in charge of it.” She searched her bookshelf for the folder containing the fireworks information. “An old friend of Luke’s contacted Hannah a couple of weeks ago, asking if he could provide the fireworks show as a wedding present. We thought it was a great idea, and Hannah has been scrambling to get all the permits to make it happen. With all the other planning, I left that up to her.”
“I need to know everything.” Gavin took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The guy Brian Hurst showed up at Sugar Rush the other day to see Evan, but Evan didn’t know why until he’d talked to Hannah. So if I allowed Hurst to do his fireworks show, I’d have to run checks on him and everyone else involved.”
“But the fireworks will be nowhere near the villa.”
“Doesn’t matter. My job is to ensure the complete security of this event.”
“My job is to ensure my best friend has a perfect wedding.”
“Moving planters and tables will have no impact on the perfection of the wedding itself. And since Luke and Polly don’t even know about the fireworks yet, they won’t miss anything.”
Mia’s frustration exploded. She turned, throwing the folder at him in a fit of pique. It hit his chest and fell to the floor. His eyes narrowed.
“What is your problem?” she snapped. “Look, I understand that security is important, and God knows I don’t want anything to happen to anyone but you’re treating this wedding like it’s the freaking Pentagon. Why? What’s happened between a year ago and now that suddenly has you sending in armored tanks?”
Her heart pounded, her vision blurring. A muscle ticked in Gavin’s jaw, but otherwise he showed no emotion. Tension thickened the air.
Unable to bear his silence, Mia spun on her heel and went into her bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. She sank onto the bed and blinked back hot tears.
The doorknob rattled. “Mia, open the door.”
“No.” She crossed her arms mutinously, not caring if she was being petulant. Or having a full-out tantrum. “Go away.”
The knob rattled again, then there was a scraping noise and a click. The door swung open. Gavin stood there like a shadow, his expression set in a frown.
She turned away from him. He approached, stopping in front of her. In his black shirt and trousers, he was a dark storm cloud against the paisley purple wallpaper and canopied bed.
He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
“Never lock me out,” he said.
She swallowed, struck by the gravity in his eyes, the sense that he wasn’t only talking about her bedroom door.
“I don’t want you here anymore,” she muttered.
“Too bad.”
He continued looking at her, as if he didn’t need to do anything else to make her yield. As it turned out, he didn’t.
“Fine,” she said, her throat tight. “I’ll move the tables and planters. But you’re going to have to tell Luke’s friend and Hannah about the fireworks.”
His hand was warm and big under her chin, like a cradle.
“Tell me what else is going on,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. Her earlier resistance weakened. Strange how he made everything, no matter how gentle, into a command. Even stranger how that softened her inside, made her want to be malleable and pliant.
“It’s just been lousy day,” she confessed, a sob catching in her throat. “I misfiled something at work that was due, so it didn’t go out on time and one of the accountants chewed me out. Then Polly was off doing something with Luke, and I haven’t done anything with her in weeks… and I spent all this time thinking about things I’m good at, and when I sent the list to you, you didn’t respond.
“I ripped a hole in my favorite scarf, and now there’s all this stuff you want to change about the wedding… and it’s just so stupid of me to complain about things like that when I can’t even imagine how awful things were for you, and whatever is going on with the wedding has to be bad or you wouldn’t be such a hardass, and here I am whining that my best friend is going out with her fiancé and I got yelled at in a job I hate anyway, but last night was so freaking amazing and today was such crap that I—”
Her voice broke. Gavin grasped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She stared at the hollow of his throat. A pulse beat rapidly there; the only evidence of his emotions. By contrast, she was a hot mess—her breath hitched, tears stung her eyes, and she was trembling with impotent distress.
Then he tugged her closer, so swiftly that she fell against him. The instant her body made contact with his solid strength, her misery faded, as if he were absorbing it into himself, taking it from her. He embraced her, his arms like steel and velvet, locking her against him.
“You’re allowed to be upset by a bad day.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Should you feel guilty for being upset? No. Can it help to compare your situation to others? Yes. Do you need to? No. You never have to apologize for the way you feel.”
Her tears overflowed, but this time from relief rather than angst. She pressed her face to the front of his shirt and drew in a shuddering breath.
“How’d you get to be so smart?” she mumbled.
“Who says I’m smart?”
“I do.” She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “And you are.”
He rubbed his big hand up and down her back. “Then tell me what else happened.”
She would never have secrets from him. She didn’t want to. After all those months of trying to get his attention, she now had his attention right to the center of her soul. She only hoped she could keep it.
“I… I had an unpleasant encounter,” she admit
ted.
He stiffened, pulling back slightly to look at her. “Tell me.”
“After work, I went to meet some friends for happy hour.” Mia shivered, tightening her arms around him. “This creepy guy followed me to the parking lot.”
Everything about Gavin changed in an instant. Steel infused his expression, his body tensing and eyes icing over.
“What did he do?” His voice remained calm and steady.
“He just spooked me. Said he wanted to return my cell phone, but he didn’t have it. I left as fast as I could.”
“What bar?”
“Asante, on First Street. I go there all the time.”
“What was his name?”
“Danny. I don’t know his last name. I’ve seen him around before, but that was the first time he’d come after me.”
Gavin was silent for a moment, as if he were processing that information like a computer. Then he pulled away from her.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “Lock the door behind me, and don’t open it for anyone.”
“Where are you…”
He walked swiftly out of the bedroom. The front door closed.
“…going?” Mia finished to the empty room.
She gave a choked laugh and shook her head, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Because she had some instinctive need to obey him, she locked the front door. Her temporary sense of calm dissipated, fresh unease prickling her skin. So much for anticipating a nice evening alone with him.
His briefcase still sat on the coffee table, which surely meant he was coming back. She paced back and forth, then tried to kill some time by watching her DVD of The Princess Bride.
Finally, after an hour had passed, a knock came at the door. She hurried to open it.
Gavin entered, carrying two paper grocery bags, and crossed to the kitchen.
Mia followed him. “Where did you go?”
“Asante, to see if I could track down that little fucker Danny.” He set the bags on the counter. “Unfortunately he wasn’t there and no one recalled seeing him. I’ll hunt around more tomorrow.”
“What… what would you do if you found him?”
“Teach him a lesson.” His hard tone indicated it would be one hell of a lesson. He turned to face her, his expression stern. “From now on, you don’t walk to your car unless you’re with a friend. If you’re alone, you call me and wait in a safe place until I get there. Understand?”
She pressed her lips together. “I know how to handle myself when I go out.”
“Do you understand?” His eyes narrowed into slits of cobalt.
“Yes, I understand.” She put her chin up, a hint of belligerence rising inside her. “But don’t think you get to fuck me one time and then start telling me what to do all the time.”
“Make no mistake, sweetheart.” Gavin brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his tone shifting to one of measured certainty. “This is more than a one-time fuck. And there will be times when I tell you what to do. Keyword—tell. I’m not asking. I don’t tolerate dissent, especially not when your safety is at risk. You can fight me all you want, but nothing you do will change the fact that I will protect you to the fullest extent of my abilities. If that means making you angry with me, then fine. I can take it.”
She had no doubt about that. Gavin could take anything and everything and still remain as steady as a boulder. It was just one of the qualities that drew her to him like a magnet—underlying her fear of a life opposite the one she wanted lay the vague sense of being adrift. Being with Gavin was like holding on to an immovable anchor.
He brushed his knuckles across her cheek and turned to open the grocery bags.
“What’s all that?” she asked.
“Good food.” He opened her refrigerator and started transferring food from the bags—eggs, milk, organic chicken, yogurt, carrots, broccoli. He placed other items on the counter and in the cupboards—apples and bananas, granola, nuts, wheat crackers.
“You went grocery shopping for me?”
“Apparently you can’t be bothered to do it yourself,” he replied dryly, folding the bags. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I had a calamari plate at Asante,” Mia said.
“And?”
“A lemon drop martini.”
Disapproval creased his brow. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
He was right, much as she didn’t love being reminded of that. It was clear he took exceptional care of himself both through clean eating and regular workouts that gave him that incredible, rock-solid physique. But those habits appeared borne of his past trauma—a way to control his life since there had once been a time when he’d had little, if any, control at all.
Maybe that was also why he was so authoritative and demanding—she’d seen his controlling nature in his interactions with his men, and she was now starting to experience it herself. The realization made her both uneasy and terribly excited.
“Sit down.” He motioned to the table before uncorking a bottle of wine. “I’ll make dinner.”
She sat, accepting the glass of wine he put in front of her. He took ingredients out of the fridge and started chopping and slicing.
“The Princess Bride?” he asked, nodding to the archway through which the TV was visible.
“You’ve really never seen it?”
“Maybe. Can’t remember.”
Mia made a huffing noise of annoyance. “If you’d seen it, you’d remember. It’s an epic, swashbuckling tale of true love.”
Skepticism flashed over his face. “Is that the one with the big rats in a forest?”
“Rodents of Unusual Size.” She glowered at him. “Are you kidding me? You have seen it and you don’t remember?”
“It’s been a while.” He tossed slices of zucchini into a hot pan. “Epic, swashbuckling tales of true love aren’t my thing.”
She tried not to take that remark too much to heart. Apparently not realizing the implications of what he’d just said, Gavin continued cooking and soon had a dinner of baked chicken, roasted zucchini, and rice on the table.
Mia pushed aside her unease so she could enjoy Gavin taking care of her again. Even though her apartment was her domain, her haven from the world, she really liked him there. She liked him cooking in her kitchen and sitting at the table. She liked watching him eat, his movements sharp and methodical, her decorative floral silverware held securely in his big hands.
It was kind of a turn on, too—watching the spoon slide between his lips, his jaw muscles shifting as he chewed, the pressure of his fingers on the knife. And at times like this, she liked his silence, the compatibility of just sitting and eating dinner together.
She pushed her empty plate away with a sigh of pleasure. “That was delicious. I feel much better.”
“Good.” He rose to take their plates to the sink. “Because we still need to talk about the wedding.”
Mia groaned. She crossed her arms on the table and lowered her head onto them. “You know, planning the wedding used to be fun.”
“I want to give you whatever you want,” Gavin rested his hand on her hair, stroking it away from her face. “I know you have a vision for this wedding, that you want it to be beautiful and remarkable and all those good things. I love that you see the world that way. I never want to take that away from you. But the reality of my job is to protect against threats.”
Mia heard every word he said, but two stood out like flashing neon signs. I love. Never once had she imagined Gavin Knight saying he loved anything. Heck, she’d spent months wondering if there was anything in the world he even liked a little bit. And now he’d just said he loved her view of the world.
Her heart was beating fast, and not only because he was stroking her hair with such easy tenderness. She kept her face in the crook of her arm, absorbing his touch, before slowly turning to look at him.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Trust me enough to tell me.”
He ran his hand over her cheek, a troubled
gleam appearing in his eyes.
“The owners of Sugar Rush occasionally get angry letters or emails,” he finally said. “Sometimes from people who think someone in the company has wronged them. Most of the time, they’re just looking to extort money.”
“What about the other times?”
“Every now and then, someone really believes they’ve been wronged,” Gavin explained. “That appears to be the case now. A man is claiming Luke stole his idea for something called Zigzag Candy. Of course, Luke has never stolen anything from anyone, much less a candy idea. And though the company has a ton of evidence to support that, the guy’s not buying it. He’s sent a few letters and emails about it over the months, but with the wedding getting closer, his attempts to incite a response have escalated.”
“To the level of a risk?”
“To the level that we need to take extra security precautions.”
A chill prickled down Mia’s spine. She sensed the undercurrent of his words, that this “threat” was far more dangerous than he’d initially led her to believe.
“So why… why didn’t you tell me that at the beginning?” she asked.
“The details are locked down,” Gavin said. “Polly doesn’t even know the threat level at this point, and I intend to keep it that way. It may seem otherwise, but you and I have the same goal. We both want Polly and Luke to have a perfect wedding.”
She considered that, liking the notion that they were on the same side. That they’d been on the same side this whole time. “So what do we do now?”
“I will try my damnedest to give you what you want.” He curled a lock of her hair around his finger and tugged. “But you need to understand that you have to compromise. If you don’t, I’ll have to get medieval on your pretty ass.”
“Hmm.” She arched an eyebrow. “Sounds promising.”
“In that case,” he murmured, lowering his head to press a warm kiss to her lips, “I might just do it anyway.”
Chapter
ELEVEN
“If you take out the planters and topiary, you can string the lights along this row of trees and around the windows.” Gavin pointed to the map denoting the exterior of the villa. “I’m okay with you keeping the courtyard open, but I’ll be stationing three extra men at the perimeter. The entire interior team is composed of fully trained close protection operatives. They will also all be dressed appropriately and look like regular guests.”
