He cringed. Trish and Harrison put their hands on the doorknobs. Straightening quickly, he sized-up Harley. “You ready?”
Harley gritted her teeth in the perfect beauty queen parade smile. “No. What if the stalker’s there?” She shook her shoulders as if shaking off a ghost. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
Noah stepped back, pulling her away from the door with him. She’d delivered such a strong hit, he had trouble remembering she was this little slip of a woman who needed protection. But she did, and she was scared, and it was his job to fix it. A job he would do to the best of everything inside of him, because Harley was worth it. She might be smart and run with the big dogs in the business world, but she was every bit of the virtue Noah craved in this life, and he would keep her safe if it killed him.
Tipping her chin up, Noah stared into her dark, gold-rimmed eyes, searching for what to say that would make her feel better and stronger than some jerk with a vengeance. “I won’t leave you alone, okay? We can do this.”
Harley stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not scared.”
Uh-oh. He’d offended her. Backpedaling, he cleared his throat. “I didn’t say you were.”
“And, I don’t need a … a … babysitter.”
“I completely agree.”
She yanked her hand off his arm and stomped over to the doors just as they opened. Noah hurried to her side. “Just play your part, pretty boy,” she said through that pageant smile.
Noah felt one side of his mouth tug up in a crooked grin. There was no way he could let her get away with that one. He leaned close so only Harley would hear as he said, “It’s about time you noticed I’m pretty.”
Harley’s neck and cheeks turned a pretty pink.
“… Mr. and Mrs. Baker!”
Noah picked up Harley’s hand, kissed the back of it, and pulled her into the ballroom.
Chapter 11
Harley schooled her features as quickly as possible. Noah thought the sun came up just to hear him crow, and she was stuck with him—for a whole year.
Taking in the ballroom, she was shocked to see that every dream she’d ever entertained for her wedding had come to life. The white bunting, the tall vases full of gardenias and lilies, the Italian-chocolate sampling table, the twinkling lights, and the guests in their tuxedos and gowns—all brought tears to Harley’s eyes. It was perfect, and it was wasted on this groom who could break his arm patting himself on the back.
Daddy crossed the room, his arms outstretched and a company-man smile on his face. He kissed Harley’s cheek. “You okay, pumpkin?”
Harley nodded in return. “Overwhelmed a bit. This is incredible.”
“Only the best for my girl.” Daddy smiled at her and then reached over to shake hands with Noah.
“Mr. Wilson.”
“Call me John.” Daddy slapped him on the back, and Harley held back her eye roll—it was all a show to bring out the creep who had shaken her unshakable family hard enough that they invited this fox into her house.
“The reception line will begin in two minutes; follow me.” Daddy hung close to Noah’s side, and Harley caught a few words like “security” and “cameras” and “fortification.”
Their private cul-de-sac had one way in and one way out. There was a basketball court, tennis court, indoor and outdoor shooting ranges, several pools, and three miles of trails where they rode four-wheelers. The entire property was guarded by a cinderblock fence supported by five-foot-deep footings and topped with military-grade barbed wire. Except for right at the gatehouse, which was manned by their private security detail, four dogs Harley never wanted to pet, and a huge medieval gate.
Noah’s eyes moved about the room, taking in more than the decorations, Harley was sure. She continued to watch him, because the alternative was to smile and greet the guests, and she couldn’t do that knowing that one of them could be her stalker. Was it the guy by the chocolate fountain, or maybe the one hovering near the banister? She couldn’t stand the uncertainty hanging heavy in her gut.
Tightening her grip on Noah’s arm, Harley drew in his strength, because he was an incredibly strong man. Trish had mentioned, ever so casually, that Noah had been working with a personal trainer for the last three months as part of his contract with BMB. Her sense of interest was heightened when she felt the corded muscles under his jacket. She wanted to know where he got them, what he did every day, and so many more things about him that it left her head spinning.
She mentally shook herself. He was a bodyguard. Of course he would be strong. And his calluses were probably from working on that sorry excuse for a truck. And as far as what he did every day, it wasn’t her place to ask. Which would be a lot easier if his jacket didn’t strain across his broad shoulders like that.
The few moments of studying Noah, his strong jaw, determined glint, and his clean-cut hair—shaved on the sides and in the back, a little longer on the top, with just a hint of red in the dark brown—gave Harley a sense of accomplishment that was completely shallow. She’d married a fine-lookin’ man. Pretty? Ha! Noah was downright gorgeous ... when he wasn’t talking, or smiling at her like they shared a secret, or kissing her like some big-screen heartthrob. Okay, so he was something to admire, like a sleek-lined half-ton pick-up. Fine. She could deal with a good-looking man. Heaven knew he wasn’t the only one she’d ever seen.
Noah, still listening to her dad, absentmindedly ran his fingers lightly up her arm, leaving a trail of fire and ice in his wake. Harley bit down on her cheek to keep from moaning. It was only with a wagonload of self-control that she managed not to lean into his side just to be closer. She could have cuddled in and played the part of an adoring wife. The strangers in the room would think she was the traditional adoring bride, but her family and those she worked closely with would know she was playing a role, and if her stalker was on the inside of her social circle, they’d know. So she forced herself to maintain a reasonable distance, despite the desire to curl up in his arms and have another one of those trail-bending kisses. Which was as ridiculous as a chicken in a birthday hat. They’d only just met, and married, and already Harley was purring like a kitten on a heating pad. She was a bride in name only, and if she intended to keep it that way, she’d have to keep all personal inquiries and flashing desires to herself. Which she could do. She was a Wilson, for heaven’s sake—she could conquer the world if she wanted to.
The line formed, with Harrison standing as Noah’s best man and Trish posing as his sister. Her parents stood to her left, welcoming family and friends to this joyous occasion. Aunts, uncles, and cousins paraded by, giving her hugs and pumping Noah’s hand. More than one expressed surprise that Harley had gotten married so quickly. Grandma Dee made a comment about shotgun weddings, and Harley’s eyes nearly bugged out when Noah muttered, “If she only knew how right she was.”
Harley felt a stab of betrayal that Noah might be here under duress. It was one thing to pay a man to marry you; it was another to have to threaten him. “What do you mean?”
“Your dad pulled a gun on me earlier and told me to keep my hands off you.”
“What did you do?”
Noah chuckled. “I kissed you.”
Harley wasn’t at all surprised at her father. She was, however, surprised that Noah had stuck around. The fact that he hadn’t been intimidated by John Wilson actually won him a couple of points in her book.
Another thought jumped in right after her budding appreciation of her husband and squished it like a bug. “That’s why you kissed me? To tick off my dad?”
“Okay—time for your first dance!” Trish pushed both of them towards the center of the room. The DJ asked everyone to clear the dance floor for the happy couple as they took their place. Noah settled a hand on her hip, and Harley slid right into his arms.
Like I’m meant to be here.
Noah took the lead for a waltz, and Harley, with all her debutant training, fell easily in step. Her cheeks flushed, knowing several hundred eye
s followed them around the room. The thought that her stalker might be watching sent a shiver up her spine.
Noah opened his mouth—undoubtedly to explain away their kiss as nothing more than an attempt to anger her dad. Harley couldn’t take an easy letdown. The kiss, as unexpected and wonderful as it had been, needed to go away if she was going to survive this day. “Look,” she said, “I can see why you were chosen for this job.”
“Oh?” Noah quirked an eyebrow.
“You can dance, you have the background in security, and—don’t let this go to your head—but you’re good-lookin’ enough that it’s believable I’d be interested in you. But you’re here to do a job, and I don’t think we should get too friendly. Let’s just keep it business causal.”
“As you wish.” Noah took three quick turns and deposited her in Daddy’s arms just as the song came to an end.
Bother! The man quoted the sexy Dread Pirate Roberts. Harley craned her neck to see Noah ask her mom to dance. She let out a sigh.
Once the song was over, Daddy delivered her back to Noah. “Stick close,” he said quietly, yet Harley heard it loud and clear.
“Harley!” squealed Molly as she threw her arms around Harley’s neck, pulling on her veil and yanking on the pins holding the delicate lace in place.
“Molly, how are you?” Harley asked.
“Good.” Molly squeezed Harley’s arm. “I can’t believe you’re married! It’s so crazy. Wasn’t it just yesterday we were making fun of bride magazines and planning to take over the world?”
Harley laughed at her old roommate. “We were so immature.”
Molly’s hand dropped, and Harley felt the blood rush back into her fingers.
Noah stepped in. “Hello.”
Molly glared and slapped his shoulder playfully. “You stole my best friend, you jerk!” She cackled, and Harley laughed. Classic Molly.
Molly linked her elbow with Harley’s. “I’m going to pretend that I’m not devastated you left me out of your wedding and invite you to lunch—your treat.”
Harley considered Noah. She needed this time with a girlfriend. Not that she could or would tell Molly about the stalker and her fake wedding; she just needed to talk to a female, to reconnect with an old friend. “You bet. Give me a week.”
“Right.” Molly winked. “The honeymoon. Girl, I can understand those needs.”
Harley’s cheeks flooded, and Noah cleared his throat.
“Oh, you guys are so cute. Okay, I’ll call you.” Molly gave her one more crushing hug that lasted just a tad on the awkward side of things and flitted off.
Noah tugged at his sleeve. Their first moments slightly alone, and it was all awkward glances and hopeless silence. Harley focus was everywhere but on him and was knocked from behind when Sebastian’s arm hooked around her shoulders.
“It should have been me, darlin’.” Sebastian yanked her into his side.
“Excuse me?” Noah threaded his fingers through Harley’s and gave a little tug. Harley couldn’t get out of Sebastian’s grip.
“This little darlin’ was promised to me years ago.” Sebastian grinned down at Harley with what he probably thought was an endearing gaze that came off as snot-slingin’ drunk.
They weren’t serving what Harley smelled on Sebastian’s breath. She pulled her head away from the stench.
“We were so good together.”
Harley gagged. Sebastian was a cousin—okay, a fourth cousin or something—but still, they’d been raised close enough that she couldn’t think of him as anything but a cousin.
“Well, as you can see by the ring on her finger, she’s promised elsewhere.” Noah gave him an icy smile.
Sebastian laughed loudly, causing half the room to turn their direction. Harley wanted to hide under a rock.
He pushed her toward Noah. “Take her, then—and good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
Noah watched Sebastian until he disappeared. “That was weird,” he whispered.
“That’s Sebastian. He’s always been socially awkward.”
Noah glared after him. “I’ll need background between you two—soon.”
Harley nodded. No matter how much she wanted to never tell a soul about the stupid ceremonies Sebastian had played at as kids, she knew she needed to be honest with Noah if they were going to catch the perp.
“Let’s try the chocolate bar.” She tugged Noah in that direction where he was quickly caught up in a conversation with Wyatt.
Harley held a cup of cold chocolate in one hand and, to her chagrin, Noah’s hand in the other as her nearly fiancé, Jeremiah—okay, ex-nearly fiancé—approached. Panic flew through her veins. Harley threw back the chocolate drink, needing all the fortification it held, hoping it was laced with enough caffeine to get her through this conversation.
Chapter 12
Noah’s earpiece suddenly cut out. Throughout their time in the reception line, he’d received regular updates as each security guard checked in with an all-clear. They were stationed throughout the house, several of them posing as guests.
Feeling naked, Noah caught Stewart’s eye and tapped his ear, indicating the loss of communication. He needed to know what was happening, and without his earpiece, he was a lone wolf—not a great place to be. Stewart excused himself immediately and was beside Noah at the chocolate table in a flash of gray hair.
“What’s happening?” asked Noah. He felt like he was in the middle of a fishbowl with every eye on him and he turned away from Harley, not wanting to upset her more than her run in with Sebastian already had. Her hand slipped out of his but he could still feel her behind him.
“The gifts have all been scanned. The guests are behaving and the exterior is quiet.”
“You have guys on the fence?” Noah asked.
“Every twenty feet, and we brought in extra dogs. If anyone tries to sneak in, we’ll get ‘em.”
Noah’s eyes swept the room and found Sebastian harassing a waitress. “Put him on the watch list, will you?”
Stewart’s heavy eyebrows lowered a half inch. “You have reason for that?”
“A hunch.” Noah nodded solemnly. Pausing, he wondered why the room felt so cold, and then he realized Harley wasn’t standing by him. Insanely alert, Noah stood on his toes and searched for her with an urgency that tugged at his gut. She was still in the room. Don’t ask him how he knew that, but he did. He could feel her there, and she was upset.
Noah lifted his small radio. “Does anyone have eyes—?”
“Here.” Stewart thrust a new earpiece at Noah.
“There.” Noah watched as the blond-haired guy brushed Harley’s cheek and she jerked away.
He and Stewart moved at the same time. “I’ve got this.” Noah moved ahead, satisfied that Stewart let him take the lead.
* * *
“We were in a rough place, but I didn’t think we were over.” Jeremiah moved to touch her hand, and Harley stilled him with a once-over. “So that’s how it is?” he demanded.
Harley shook her head. After the heat and passion in Noah’s embrace, Jeremiah’s touch was like being brushed by a dead fish. She felt that she owed Jeremiah some type of explanation about her hasty marriage. Maybe, if she worded it right, he’d leave—and if he was the stalker, he’d disappear.
Jeremiah lowered his chin as if he were about to cry. “I wondered if you were cheating on me. You were always so distant.”
Angry at what she believed to be an attempt to manipulate her through tears, Harley replied, “And you decided my weddin’ was the place to ask about it?”
“I had to know if you loved me at all. We’d talked about this—for us.” His arms gestured about at the decorations, the cake, the band, and finally her dress. “Is this the dress you had picked out for our wedding?”
“You were engaged?” asked Noah from right behind her. His voice was tinted with equal parts incredulity and shock.
Harley wanted to stomp her foot. The night was more tangled up than a ball of string in
a cat house. She was tangled. How could she stand here with a man she’d planned a future with and not feel a thing, while a man she’d only just met made her skin tingle and her heart race with a look?
Jeremiah sized-up Noah. “I guess he didn’t know about the other guy either. Smooth, Harley. Real smooth.” Jeremiah hurried away, and Harley swore she heard him sniff.
Harley sighed as he left. “Jeremiah doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, and I just broke his heart.” She really did feel badly about the way she’d treated him. No one deserved to be trampled on. But … what if he was the bad guy? What if all she’d done tonight was make him angry? They said stalkers usually exhibited one behavior in front of people and kept their darkest side hidden. Her hands started to shake.
Noah pushed her shoulder, and suddenly they were buried deep in the velvet drapes. “Were you cheating on me—him—us?” His jaw was firm, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that took Harley off guard.
“No! Is that what you think?”
Noah brushed his hand up and down the back of his head. “I freely admit, I don’t know what to think about all this.”
“Wilsons don’t cheat,” Harley said through tight lips.
Noah considered her for a moment before saying, “Good. Bakers don’t cheat either.” He lifted his lips in a one-sided grin, bringing out his dimples.
Harley glared. “If you call me Mrs. Baker, I’m gonna put a cactus in your bed.”
Noah’s grin broadened.
Harley lifted her shaking hand to move her bangs off her forehead, and Noah caught it. “You okay?” His question had a surprising amount of concern behind it, considering she’d just threatened to impale him in his sleep.
His tenderness brought forth an honest answer. “I didn’t plan on seeing him tonight … I just need a minute.”
Noah didn’t move to hug her or comfort her or coddle her. Instead, he folded his arms and stared through the small gap in the fabric. Why did he have to touch her in front of everyone and not now, when she wanted him to, wanted to try on those big, muscly arms for size? Maybe even tuck her head into his neck and kiss his—Stop. It!
The Protective Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Page 7
