by A. C. Arthur
“Just breathe,” he told her while his fingers massaged her shoulders. “That’s right, take slow, deep breaths.”
His touch, the fact that he was the one here with her did wonders to calm her racing heart. She’d closed her eyes as she breathed but the scene was clear in her mind.
“Who did this?” she asked in a voice that still sounded shaky.
“I don’t know but you better believe I’m going to find out.”
An hour later Trent stood in the hallway with Devlin Bonner, Navy SEAL and captain of Trent’s team.
“It looks personal,” Devlin told him solemnly.
Trent nodded. He’d called his captain before the local police because he’d wanted a like mind to assess the situation. Cops weren’t trained the way he and Devlin were. Besides, Trent had sensed this was a personal, not random, attack on Tia when he’d seen her tires this morning.
“She got any enemies?” Devlin stood with his big muscled arms folded over his equally defined chest. He wore a black T-shirt that fit him like a second skin, and jeans that had clearly seen better days. On one hip he had a scabbard with a knife as big and lethal looking as Rambo’s. On the other, his gun was holstered. With his dark skin, bald head and the jagged scar running down the left side of his face, he looked dangerous, even scary to someone who wasn’t used to seeing him.
To Trent it was the norm; the only reason he didn’t look the same was because it would scare his mother to death to see him that way. So when he was home he made a concerted effort to appear as normal as possible. But the lethalness was there always, brimming just beneath the surface of his personality. Today it was about to break free.
“She’s pretty famous around here and her pictures are everywhere,” he said grimly.
Devlin nodded. “I thought she looked familiar. She’s a model, right?”
“Yeah, Tia St. Claire.”
“Dayum, she’s fine as hell, especially in person,” Devlin said with a wide grin.
“Don’t even think about it, Bonner.” That’s what the team called him when they weren’t on assignment, because Devlin’s mind had one mission when it came to women: hot sex and lots of it.
“Why?” Devlin looked momentarily confused. “Don’t tell me you’ve claimed her already? Trent, you are the man!” Devlin said clapping him on his shoulder. “You haven’t been back in town two months and you’ve already snagged a woman.”
Trent didn’t like the way “snagged a woman” sounded and immediately grew defensive. “It’s not like that. And now’s not the time.”
Devlin hadn’t lost his defensive stance, nor his fierce look, his grin and the slight change in tone was something only Trent would have noticed. The police officers now going in and out of Tia’s apartment were still sure to steer clear of them both.
“So since this is personal for you, I’ll look into it,” Devlin told him.
Trent looked at his commander with nothing short of fury in his gaze. “I want to know who did this and I want his neck in my hands. Do you understand?”
Devlin nodded. “I got it. You just stick close to her. If they started with her car then moved into her place within the span of a day, they’re really gunning for her.”
That’s exactly what Trent was afraid of.
In her bedroom, or what was left of it, Tia gathered what she could with shaky hands. Tears clouded her eyes as she tried valiantly to keep from shaking. Most of her clothes had been destroyed by what appeared to be hot wax drippings. The furniture was history. But that wasn’t what had her so close to a complete breakdown.
The mere thought that someone had been in her house, touching her things, was incomprehensible. She’d had model friends who’d picked up stalkers along their travels. Some who’d had to resort to getting restraining orders because the stalker had shown up at their house. Never had any of her friends had someone actually break into their house.
Turning once more and glancing at her surroundings, Tia gasped. Then, with a knuckle to her lips, she stifled the cry she longed to release. She wasn’t alone. If she cried out someone would surely hear her and come running, ready to kill. Someone like Trent. She’d put him through enough already. So much so he probably thought she was a basket case. So it was with all the bravado Tia could muster that she prepared to leave this room and her apartment.
Making her way into the living room, one lone duffel bag in hand, Tia shifted her thoughts to which hotel she’d stay at while she searched for a new place to live. No way was she ever coming back here. She was a little shocked to see that the police had cleared out along with Trent.
She’d wondered where he’d gone when the man he’d introduced as his team captain had shown up, but sensed he wasn’t in the mood for questions. Trent’s team captain, Devlin Bonner, who to Tia looked more like the human version of Darth Vader, had not returned with him. Now Trent looked even angrier than he had when they’d first come into the apartment together, if that was possible.
His dark eyes had lowered to mere slits, his lips stretched over his teeth on what looked like a naturally fixed scowl. This was the soldier, the man who went into battles for his country. The body that she’d found attractive had morphed into one of a conditioned fighter. His arms seemed bigger, biceps bulging, stretching the rim of the cream colored polo shirt he wore. His jeans fit him just a bit snugger around the thighs, as if all muscles in his body were now more pronounced, more visible for intimidation purposes.
He looked huge and deadly as he marched toward her and for a moment she was afraid of him. She took a step back while keeping her eyes on him. Then, as if he’d sensed her leeriness, he stopped, took a deep breath, then walked toward her again.
Lifting a hand to her chin he asked, “Are you okay?”
Nervously Tia licked her lips, her hands clutching her bag a little tighter. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Are you?”
“No,” he replied simply. “But I will be once I get you out of here.”
He took her by the arm as gently as he possibly could. Tia sensed it was a struggle for him to hold on to his anger while in her presence. She wanted to soothe what looked like an impossible battle in him but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.
“If you could just drop me off at a hotel I’ll be all right,” she was saying as they walked across the room. He hadn’t released her arm and with her words his fingers grew a bit tighter.
“A hotel? Forget it. You’re staying with me,” he said in a tone that was supposed to brook no argument.
“No!” she said suddenly. Staying in the same house with Trent was not an option. Last night in his arms had pushed buttons she’d rather not admit she had. There was no way she could spend an endless number of nights with him. That wasn’t the scope of their relationship. “I mean, I’d rather stay at a hotel,” she said calming her voice a bit.
It was only going to make matters worse if she started yelling. Trent was in a precarious state right now, Tia was sure arguing with him wasn’t the smartest thing for her to do. But neither was setting up house with him.
Her cell phone rang and she sighed with relief as he released her arm so she could reach into her purse and answer it.
“Hi, Camille,” Tia said giving Trent an apologetic look.
“Are you okay? I was so worried about you. Where are you? I keep calling your house but I’m not getting an answer,” Camille talked fast as if she were running a race for words.
“I’m at my apartment. You’re not getting an answer because the wires were cut,” Tia said and instantly regretted her words. Camille was already worried about her. Telling her about the break-in would probably incite a nervous breakdown.
“Oh, my God! Are you serious? Did you call the police? I’m on my way right now!”
“No!” Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not necessary for you to come over, Camille. I’m actually on my way out. My stuff is pretty much destroyed so I’m going to find a hotel, then try to regroup.”
“You will no
t stay in a hotel! I’m coming to get you, you can stay here with me.”
Tia was officially caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one end there was Trent, still scowling at her, just waiting for her to finish with this call so he could demand she stay with him. Hell, with the way he was looking at her he seemed more inclined to ditch the words and toss her over his shoulder, taking her to his place kicking and screaming.
On the phone was Camille, sweet, delicate Camille who was now screeching like a mother whose child had been in a fight. Choosing the lesser of two evils and the safest option for her own sanity, Tia sighed. “Thanks, Camille. I would love to come stay with you until I find another place.”
Chapter 13
Trent seethed all the way over to Camille and Adam’s house.
Hadn’t he told her she was staying with him? What part of that had she not understood? As angry as he was Trent was not a fool. If he didn’t deliver Tia to Camille’s front door within the hour she and Adam would both come looking for him. Because in their minds he was the big bad wolf and Tia was their precious Li’l Red Riding Hood.
Never before had his reputation been such a thorn in Trent’s side. If they only knew that this time, he wasn’t the dangerous one. It was Tia and the effect she had on him. On more than one occasion he’d asked himself why he was even bothering with her. What made her so different that he’d change all the habits he’d had where women were concerned? He still didn’t have those answers and at this moment didn’t care to think about it.
There were more pressing matters on his mind, like who the hell had targeted Tia and why? Now, that was a part of his personality that wasn’t about to change any time soon. The protective part, the part that would bring down such vengeance on anyone who dared to mess with his loved ones.
Right now the rage moved through him steadily, like lava pouring down the side of a volcano. The slashed tires and then the break-in, hell yeah, he was poised and ready to strike at the next target in a heartbeat.
The moment they arrived and he parked the car she was reaching for the door handle, trying, he knew, to get away from him as fast as she could. He’d scared her when he’d called in Devlin and barked orders to the local police. That much was clear by the way she’d moved away from him, being careful to keep her distance.
He reached for her arm, preventing her exit. “Look, I don’t like this situation. I especially don’t like that you’re not going to be close enough for me to protect.”
She gave him a look that said she was about to tell him he didn’t need to protect her. She looked so sexy when she defied him that Trent almost let her go ahead and say it. But that would only make him want to throw her in the backseat and ravage her. That would never do, especially since out of the corner of his eye he could see Camille opening the front door and running down the couple of steps in the front of their house toward his truck.
“Don’t say anything, Tia,” he said, his voice lowering. “Just be careful.” He gritted his teeth. “Until I get to the bottom of this, I want you to be very careful. Can you do that? For me? For yourself?” he asked, finally loosening his grip so that his fingers were sliding along the smooth skin of her arm instead of gripping her.
She sighed, then the corners of her lips lifted in a smile. The smile that he knew had never appeared in any of her pictures, that personal smile that Trent wanted to keep all to himself. “I’ll be careful, Trent. I promise.”
Then Camille was at the door wrenching it open and hugging Tia even before she could step down from the truck. Trent shook his head then got out on his side only to meet Adam head on. He and his little brother had been having a hard time coming to terms with the role Tia was playing in Trent’s life. Trent knew why; he knew Adam’s worries were centered around Camille. He wanted to tell him that he had no plans to hurt Tia, then again, he wanted to tell him to mind his damned business.
In the end he simply pulled him to the side. “Look, I’ve called Devlin in, we’re going to investigate the tire slashing and the break-in. I need you to keep a close eye on Tia while she’s here.”
For a moment Adam simply stared at him strangely.
“Did you hear what I said?” Trent asked, uncomfortable with Adam’s glare but knowing he had more pressing issues at hand.
“Yeah,” Adam nodded. “I hear you.”
Trent looked over to Tia, whom Camille was now escorting up the walkway. Camille was treating her as if she were a fragile toy that was on the verge of breaking. When Tia looked over her shoulder and found his gaze, Trent realized he wanted to treat her that way, too. He wanted to hold her and to protect her from all hurt and danger.
“Are you okay?” Adam was saying.
“What? Oh, I’m fine. I just want to find out what’s going on. Camille hasn’t gotten any fan mail or anything for Tia at the office, has she?”
“Not that I know of. When she told me about the break-in this morning I started thinking the same thing. A stalker maybe.”
“That’s plausible since she’s in the spotlight all the time. She didn’t seem to think they’d taken anything from her apartment. Not that she had much there to start with. I don’t think she wants a home, Adam. She’s just existing, not really living.”
“Because of the accident?”
Trent nodded. “I’m hoping she’ll let Camille find her some help. You know, someone to talk to, like a therapist.”
“That’s providing she’ll tell Camille what happened. Camille said she’s known for a while that there was something going on with Tia but that Tia wouldn’t open up to her. It’s been hell trying to keep this from her.”
“But I appreciate you doing it. I didn’t want Tia to know I’d checked out her background, let alone told you and Linc about it.” Trent sighed. “I’ve got a feeling Tia isn’t going to have a choice but to tell Camille now. She’s pretty persuasive, that woman of yours, and the way she just huddled Tia off, she’s not going to stop until she knows everything.”
Adam chuckled. “You’re probably right.”
Trent turned and headed back to the truck.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to come inside and be with Tia?”
“No.” Trent answered simply.
“Come on, man. She’s obviously shaken up.” Adam had walked to the truck with him.
“And she’s obviously in good hands with Camille.” Opening the door and getting in, Trent sighed, then looked over to his brother and his disapproving glare. “Look, Adam, I can’t be the charming hero like you. I’m not the smooth champion like Linc. I need to do what I do best.”
“And what’s that, leave?”
“No. Fight.”
“You have to know it’s not your fault, Tia.” Beverly Donovan took her hand as they sat on the couch in Camille’s Parisian-inspired living room. What looked like a picture right out of an extreme homes magazine with its warm golden walls, crown molding, high ceilings and amber lighting was quite comfortable.
Camille had given Tia enough time to take a bath and eat a delicious brunch before Beverly and Noelle arrived and the interrogation began. It was a good thing she’d already decided not to even fight this battle. As much as she hated to admit it, Trent had been right, it was past time she started living again. And the first step to that was to be honest with the person who seemed to be more in her corner than Tia realized.
Never having had a best friend, Camille Davis was quickly fitting the bill with her. For months she’d been right there, not only offering Tia jobs, but offering her support. In that smart, subtle way that was pure Camille-like, the extraordinary fashion designer had been, as Tia realized today, waiting for the moment Tia cracked and told her about what was going on.
Tia hadn’t anticipated doing so in front of Beverly and Noelle but found it didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought. Noelle had been quick to inform her that Jade would have been here had Linc not locked her in her room to get some rest after all the festivities yesterday. She comp
letely understood and vowed to call Jade personally to apologize for adding the drama to her baby shower.
“On some level I knew it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t driving the car and I wasn’t driving the truck that distracted Jake,” Tia said. “Still, I was the only one who survived.”
“There’s a reason for that,” Beverly told her. “The Lord doesn’t make any mistakes.”
Tia smiled. “That’s exactly what my mother says.”
“Then she’s a very smart woman and I fully intend to meet her sometime soon.” Beverly kept rubbing the back of Tia’s hand. “Making yourself sick with grief is a slap in the face to the memory of Jake and Jessica and I know that’s not what you want to do. You’re a beautiful young woman with your entire life ahead of you, Tia. I’m not even going to sit by and let you shut yourself away because you think that’s what you deserve.”
Across the room Camille nodded. “And neither am I.”
Noelle, who had just finished her second Mojito, a drink which she swore was too light to be considered alcohol and hence her reasoning for having it with brunch instead of the orange juice Camille had and the Bloody Mary Beverly was still working on. “I guess I’ll have to take you out partying to get you back in the swing of things,” she said with her leg draped over the back of the truffle colored settee in the corner.
“Thanks,” Tia said, so overwhelmed by the support shown to her by these women who barely knew her that tears glazed her eyes. “But first I think I’m going to take a piece of advice offered to me this morning.”
“What advice is that?” Camille asked.
“To get the name of your therapist and pay her a visit or two.”
Camille came to sit on the other side of Tia. “Oh, that’s a great idea. I’ll get it for you. She’s terrific. Once you get all this out you’ll feel so much better.”
“I’m curious,” Beverly said as she leaned forward to pick up her drink and take a sip. “Who gave you this fabulous advice?”
