The Protective Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers

by Lucy McConnell

  Noah threaded his hand into her hair. “It was you.”

  Harley hugged him fiercely, and Noah allowed her touch to subdue the shaking and bring his mind away from the past to where he could experience this moment, right now, with the woman who was tough enough to chase away his demons.

  Chapter 25

  Harley said goodbye to Robert and thanked him for getting them home quickly. Noah hadn’t said much on the rest of the ride home. Harley watched him closely to make sure he didn’t zone out. She had no idea what was going through his head, but by his drawn face, it wasn’t good. She needed to get his mind to a happier place, somewhere he felt safe.

  They were greeted by Mrs. Hill at the front door. “I’m afraid I didn’t expect you back, so I’ve scheduled the maids for the afternoon. Shall I send them home?” she inquired.

  “No.” Harley threaded her fingers through Noah’s. “We’ll stay out of their way. Thank you, Mrs. Hill.”

  Harley pulled Noah down the hall and into their bedroom where she shut and locked the door behind them. Guiding him over to her bed, Harley gently eased him down. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed up next to him and settled her head on his shoulder.

  “What’s Camp Buckeye?” she asked as she traced circles over his arm.

  Noah sagged into the pillows. “It’s a sleep away equine camp. My parents own it.”

  “Tell me what it’s like.”

  Chapter 26

  Harley noticed the bounce in her step. How could she not when her ponytail took flight behind her and the pictures on the walls went up and down. She couldn’t help her joviality. Noah had confided in her, and they’d moved into the living room to watch movies but instead spent most of the evening snuggled up on the couch, sharing stories and secrets. She drank up his childhood memories as if they were strawberry Kool-Aid. For her, being raised in a family of ten with everyone working at the camp was idealistic. Oh sure, every family has its squabbles, but Noah’s love for them came shining through. He’d gone out to work on his truck, and she was ready for a punishing morning on the elliptical.

  Landing in the kitchen, she spied a package on the table. “Noah Baker, what are you up to?” She grinned as she searched for a card. There wasn’t one so she ripped into the package, anticipating what would be inside. What she found was an arrow put through a piece of yellow cardstock that read, You’re mine.

  “That’s odd.” She would have thought Noah wouldn’t want a reminder of his episode yesterday. Tapping the shaft against her palm, she decided to thank him for the gift, strange as it may be, before heading out to the gym. The note kind of irked her, though. You’re mine, as if he owned her or something. She ripped it off and stuck it in the front pocket of her hoodie.

  She found him in the garage, under his truck. “Whatcha doin’ this time?” she asked.

  Noah slid out, his face splattered with oil and a grease smear diagonal across his shirt. Dang if he didn’t look good all dirty and workin’ hard. She should find other things for him to do around the house. Like move furniture, so she could watch his muscles work.

  “I’m considering rebuilding the starter motor.”

  “Oh.” It was all Greek to Harley. “Thanks for the gift.” She waved the arrow.

  Noah lowered his eyebrows and scooted all the way out from under the truck. He took the arrow in his fingers and stared at it. As he got to his feet, he got bigger and broader, and Harley’s heart rate sped up as every inch of her expansive garage filled with him.

  “Where did this come from?” He was still staring at the arrow.

  “I found it in the kitchen. I thought …” Harley’s cheeks burned. “I thought it was from you. There was this note.” She pulled it from her pocket and unfolded it.

  Noah shook his head. “I didn’t give you this. And I didn’t write that.”

  Harley dropped the paper and jumped away as it floated down. “It was in the kitchen.”

  Noah swore. He pulled his phone out and was asking for Agent Gonzales before the sheet hit the floor. Noah set the arrow down next to it and moved Harley back a few more feet as if it would explode any minute. Harley was still wondering how the stalker had gotten the package into her kitchen. She scrubbed her arms feeling dirty again. Suddenly, her safe house felt like a bullseye.

  “Gonzales and a swarm of officers will be here in just a few minutes. I’m sending a text to Stewart and your dad to get over here.” Noah leaned into his truck and opened the toolbox. A .45 slid into his hand, and Harley gasped. “You know where the panic buttons are?” Noah asked.

  Harley nodded. There were several throughout the house. If she pressed one, their private security would descend on the house—weapons drawn. “Noah, I don’t want you to have to.” Her eyes darted to the gun and back.

  Noah bounced his hand, testing the weight of the gun. “It’s different today. See?” He held up his empty hand. “Steady as a rock.”

  Harley sized him up and noted that he was fierce in his determination, and so darn handsome she could hardly stand it.

  “Stay behind me. The house isn’t secure, but I don’t want to risk moving you out into the open.”

  Harley nodded, slipping behind him and placing her hand on his back. One man, so many muscles. Intent on staying close, Harley wrapped her arm around his stomach and pressed herself into his back.

  They crept to the door that led to the house and waited. Within seconds, she could hear her dad yelling her name from the front door. She went to move, and Noah put his hand up to stop her. “Let him come to us,” he said, before raising his voice to call out, “In the garage.” As footsteps approached, Noah yelled through the door, “I’m armed!”

  “Friendly,” answered John.

  Noah pushed the door open and verified it was John before leading them both inside. Harley hung behind Noah, her hands on his hips. She had long since learned to control her fears, even mastering her nightmares, but having the creeper in her home violated her in a way she couldn’t wash off easily.

  Daddy took in the physical contact she and Noah shared, but didn’t say anything. Either he trusted Noah, or he was compiling a list of discretions, and after Noah had proven himself as a human shield, Daddy would kill him. She hoped it was the former.

  Sirens spilled over the top of the outer fence, and pretty soon there were uniformed officers and agents swarming through her house and tromping around in heavy boots. Mrs. Hill was going to have a hard time getting the footprints out of the brushed wheat carpet. Within minutes, the staff had been rounded up, and it was soon revealed that the package had been left by messenger. The poor maid who had answered the door quivered like a trapped mouse.

  “Messengers are stopped at the gate, and all packages are inspected before being delivered.” Stewart’s face was purple; he obviously took this as personal as Harley.

  “No, sir. This was a messenger. His hair was tucked up in a hat and he had bug glasses.”

  “What?” The agent leaned forward as if he’d heard her wrong.

  “Bug glasses. Like this.” She made two large circles with her fingers and held them up to her eyes. “And the lenses make the person’s eyes look big. Like a bug’s.”

  “What else?”

  “He was short and fat and was wearing a white button-up shirt and black pants.”

  “Did he have a car?”

  The maid shook her head. “I didn’t check.”

  “Did anyone see a car?”

  The gardeners, maids, secretarial staff, security, and auto mechanic shook their heads.

  “All right. Either the messenger is part of the staff, or he’s found a hole in the perimeter.” Stewart began pointing at guards. “You two, walk the fence. And I mean walk. If there’s a hole a squirrel can fit through, I want to know about it.” The men jogged off. “You two help the police. Whatever they need, we give them. I want them to have all the evidence they can get their hands on.

  “I’m going back to the cameras. We should have a clear sho
t of our guy on the porch here.” He turned to the maid, who was wringing her hands. “You need to come with me.”

  “I’ll come too.” Noah moved, and Harley moved with him as if she’d been glued to his side. He fixed her with his gaze and shook his head.

  “But—”

  “Mrs. Baker, we need your official statement for the record,” said Gonzales.

  “Of course.”

  Even though all her instincts told her to stay with Noah, she let him slip out of her hold and followed Gonzales into the kitchen. Though Noah seemed to be grappling with his fears and coming off the conqueror, Harley was just beginning to realize hers. Every time she had a taste of something wonderful between her and Noah, the Creeper ripped them apart. She knew that was the eventual goal, and they just had to find out who it was and put a stop to thier antics. But the home invasion was almost too much.

  A draft came through the front door, and Harley shivered. If she wasn’t safe inside the compound, there was no place on earth that could keep the stalker away.

  Chapter 27

  Even with the house searched, cleared, and searched again, Noah decided that moving Harley to her parents’ guest wing for the night was a good idea. Harley disappeared into the closet and came out with a pink duffel bag. “You can put your things in here.”

  Noah wrinkled his nose. “I am not using that.”

  Harley rolled her eyes. “You’re such a guy.”

  “Thanks.” Noah wiggled his eyebrows. He stuffed his pajamas into his pillowcase and took the whole thing with him.

  “So carrying a pillow around is manlier than my gym bag?”

  “Yes—but I’ll carry your bag for you because I’m a gentleman.” He slipped the strap off her shoulder and onto his.

  Harley opened her mouth, about to protest, but snapped her teeth together without arguing.

  They took the quad over to her parents’, and Harley let them in without knocking. “Daddy? We’re here.”

  John and Julia came in together. Julia put her arm around Harley. “You take Noah right upstairs and get settled, understand? Dinner is in an hour.”

  “And when you’re settled, meet me in the library, son.” John hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

  “I won’t be long.” Noah trotted up the stairs behind Harley, which he decided was a nice place given the view. Harley was still in her workout clothes—her tight, black workout clothes that hugged her shape. Cursing his lack of control, Noah averted his eyes once they reached the top step.

  The upstairs hallway was partially open over the formal dining room and living room area. Noah could hear music coming from the kitchen, something with a little rock and roll. He smiled, thinking of Julia singing into a wooden spoon.

  Harley slowed so they were side by side. “If Mama is in the kitchen, it means she’s upset.”

  Noah cocked his head, listening. “She doesn’t sound upset.” No pots smacked against the stove, nor drawers slammed shut

  “She’s listening to the King—I swore, when Wyatt was fifteen, that God gave Elvis his talent for the sole purpose of soothing Mama’s nerves.”

  “Elvis, huh?”

  “Daddy met him once. Says he was a true Southern gentleman.”

  “Is that so?”

  “He had dinner at Graceland.”

  “Huh.”

  They arrived at a set of cream-colored French doors, and Harley pushed her way through. Noah took in the plush carpet, couch, and television, as well as the small kitchenette. To the right were two doors, and to the left was one.

  “That’s the master bedroom.” Harley pointed to the right. “And these are the smaller rooms.”

  Noah cleared his throat. “Are they connected?”

  She nodded. “Through a joint walk-in closet.”

  “I’m half tempted to haul you back home. At least we don’t have walls between us there.”

  Harley bit her lip. “We can leave the doors open.”

  “We’ll have to.” Otherwise I’m sleeping on your floor. By infiltrating John’s security, the stalker had crossed a line—one drawn from desperation. Noah threw his pillow on his bed. “I’ve got to get down and meet with John.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Where are you going to be? I don’t want you alone, even in the house.”

  Harley lifted a shoulder. “Mama’s not the only one who enjoys a Southern gentleman’s voice.”

  “Really?”

  Harley put the back of her hand to her forehead and swooned against the wall. “I would have been a groupie.”

  Noah knew it was ridiculous to be jealous of a dead man, but didn’t enjoy seeing his wife turned to jello by anyone—anyone but him, that is. The experience of melting Harley into his arms was one he enjoyed very much.

  The longer they stood there, staring, and breathing, and not touching, the harder it was for Noah to remember why he needed to leave in the first place. In the end, his sense of duty pulled him through the cloud of desire. He offered his arm to Harley and then deposited her in the kitchen with Julia just as “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” started up. He shook his head as both women joined in, serenading him as he left the room.

  He found the library easily enough as it took up half of this side of the house. The room had a thick oriental carpet that muffled his steps. Directly across from the door was a huge gas fireplace surrounded by river stones and topped with a heavy mantel. On the mantel was a painting that Noah wondered if he’d seen it in a class somewhere. He probably should have known the name of the artist. To his right were six freestanding rows of bookshelves made of walnut; each housed hundreds of books in all different sizes. To his left, the room bubbled out as though it were inside a circle. A curved window seat lined the ten-foot radius and was topped with enough cushions and pillows to sleep all of Camp Buckeye.

  In the center was a game table with two high-backed chairs. That’s where Noah found John, lounging like a king on his throne. “Have a seat.”

  Noah took the chair across from him, the chess pieces on the table clinking as he bumped it with his elbow. Instantly feeling out of his realm, Noah sat up straight in the chair.

  John waved his arm, indicating the vast amounts of literature visible from where they sat. “See those books?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Half of them are full of cow droppings.” John leaned forward. “So why do I keep them?”

  Noah crossed his ankle over his knee. “I have no idea.”

  “Two reasons. One, so that I have someone around who disagrees with me now and again. It’s awfully difficult to find a man willing to go up against me.” He paused, but Noah wasn’t about to jump in on that one. “Two, for education. No one ever amounted to anything without searching for knowledge.

  “So, I bring you here because I want you to tell me the things I don’t want to hear, and because I think you have something I might need to hear. I’ve given you plenty of rope over this thing with Harley, and I hope you don’t hang yourself with it.” He leaned back. “What have you got?”

  Noah took a deep, fortifying breath. He shoved the chess pieces out of his way and leaned his elbows on the table. “The list of suspects Harley knows is pretty short. There’s Jeremiah. Though Harley swears he’s as harmless as a toothless, eighty-year-old blind dog, I can’t believe that anyone is as nice as he appears.”

  “Agreed.”

  “However, he comes up squeaky clean. The private detective I have following him continually sends in reports of the guy volunteering at pet shelters, walking old ladies across the street, and changing tires for single moms on the freeway. I can’t get a dirty word on the guy, and as much as I hate to admit it, Harley might be right.”

  “Who else?”

  “Jackson.”

  John shifted in his seat.

  “You wanted uncomfortable.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “He acts as if he’s in a different family than Harley and Wyatt, and while Wyatt isn’t at the office,
nor does he take an active part in the family company, Harley does. I checked into the bylaws of the company. If Harley left, for any reason, the two of you would split her voting rights. It’s nice to keep things in the family, but it does create a motive that can’t be ignored.”

  “Did you have him followed too?”

  “Yes, and I had his office searched by an FBI agent.”

  “And?” A vein on John’s temple pulsed rapidly.

  “He’s clean. There was no evidence that would link him to the stalker, or any type of illegal activity, for that matter. The agent was disappointed.”

  “Who else?”

  “Sebastian.”

  John sucked air in through his teeth.

  “At the wedding, he told me that Harley had been promised to him since they were children.”

  John waved his hand dismissively. “Never by me or her mother. I’m sure his parents pushed him in that direction.”

  “His comments at the tournament yesterday were not only inappropriate, they were crude and disrespectful.”

  John steepled his fingers. “And the investigation?”

  Noah cleared his throat. “He keeps company with several women—not at the same time. I’m under the impression they don’t know about each other. He’s in debt, but not over his head. He shows up to work, does the bare minimum, and then parties on the weekends. But we have yet to find the link between him and the stalker.”

  “Do you believe it’s Sebastian?”

  Noah sized up John. “The arrow was a big indicator that I’ve pinpointed the right guy. What if I did say yes?”

  “Then I’d make sure he didn’t see the light of day for ten to twenty years.”

  “How?”

  “Nothing illegal, boy scout. But money in the right places can make things happen pretty quickly. I’ve been dealing with this longer than Harley has, and I’m tired of it. I want it taken care of. Can we set a trap of sorts?”

  Noah shook his head. “Absolutely not. The only bait we have is Harley, and I’m not willing to dangle her out there on a line.”