by Cynthia Eden
When Noah entered his suite, he found Drake lounging on the couch. Drake glanced over at him, brows raised. “Don’t you look fancy?”
“Fuck off, Drake.” He was already wearing his tux. He’d changed earlier, before Claire had made it up to the suite. He’d slipped in long enough to see the dress that he’d ordered for her. Then he’d headed back downstairs to make sure the staff was set on security guidelines for the night. When he’d left the suite, Drake hadn’t been there.
“In the last thirty minutes, you’re the second person to tell me that I should fuck off.” Drake gestured toward the closed bedroom door. “Claire told me the same thing when I asked why she had tears in her eyes.”
Noah’s fingers tightened around the small, discrete box in his hands. “Claire was crying?”
“No.” Drake rose, slowly unfurling from the couch. “Claire doesn’t cry. She had tears in her eyes, but they never fell.” He approached Noah and the guy’s face held a hard flash of…anger? “But I think you probably know why they were there.”
Are we finished? He’d hated that question. “Thanks for watching her this week. Trace went to D.C. to chase down some leads, and—”
“Why were you trying so hard to stay away from her?” Drake asked him.
He looked down at the box. “She was hurt.”
“And you were busy hunting.”
Noah’s gaze rose once more.
Drake laughed softly. “That’s it, right? When you ran off each day, you were looking for the jerk-off who set that bomb. And you wanted me here because you knew I’d take a bullet for your lady.”
“I haven’t found him.” He was turning up jackshit everywhere he turned. “Sloan Hall’s crime scene was swept clean. There wasn’t anything there. And at the Claymire Hotel bomb scene—”
“Nothing was left but rubble,” Drake finished.
Unfortunately. “This guy isn’t just going to vanish. Another attack is coming, and I have to be ready.”
The bedroom door opened.
“Are you ready for her?” Drake whispered as he backed away.
Noah’s gaze locked on Claire. So beautiful.
Her dress was the same blue shade as her eyes. It hugged her breasts, revealing the sexy curves of her body so perfectly. There was a long slit in the dress, one that flashed her gorgeous legs as she walked.
She looked sophisticated. Sexy.
Mine.
She’d tied ribbon around her wrists again, and, as he stared at her, Claire tucked her hands behind her back. “The dress wasn’t necessary,” she said quietly. “I had plenty of things to wear—”
“It was necessary for me.” Because tonight, he had plans. Big plans.
I’m not going to wait for an attack. I want the asshole to bring it on. Noah had never been the type to hide from a fight.
“I figure you got things now,” Drake murmured as he gave Noah a little salute. “See you at the party.” He made his way to the door.
When Drake was gone, Claire’s gaze dropped to Noah’s hands. “What’s that?”
“A present.” He had to clear his throat because the words came out too rough and hard. “For you.”
Her lips quirked a little at that. “Well, I was hoping you hadn’t bought jewelry for yourself.” She walked toward him. The slit in her dress parted, his cock jerked, and he had to remember—
Control.
“Stop that.” Claire’s voice held a surge of heat that surprised him.
“Stop what?” Now he was confused. “Getting you presents? Most women don’t usually complain about gifts.”
Claire gave a hard, negative shake of her head. “Stop shutting yourself off from me. I could actually see you doing it just then.” She didn’t reach for the jewelry box. “And I’m not most woman.”
He knew that fact too well.
He opened the jewelry box. Offered the diamond bracelets to her.
Claire’s breath caught. “Those are beautiful.”
The diamonds caught the light, shining even more. Very rare, the natural blue diamonds had cost him a fortune—and they were worth every penny that he’d spent.
They were the same shade of blue as her dress.
The same shade to match her eyes.
“I had the bracelets specially made for you. I’d hoped they would be here sooner.” He put the jewelry box down on the table. Reached for her right hand. His fingers slid over her wrist as he pulled the ribbon away. “You won’t need this anymore.” He took out one of the bracelets. The diamonds were surrounded by gold, a tight band that would slide over her wrist and hold easily in place.
He slid the first bracelet around her wrist. It fit her perfectly.
Then he removed the second ribbon from her skin. He eased the other bracelet into position around her wrist.
The bracelets were savage in their beauty. The blue diamonds gleamed, and the gold cuff design of the bracelets gave the jewelry a harder, sensual edge.
“Noah…”
His head lifted. He stared into Claire’s eyes. “I don’t want you to ever feel self-conscious again. Those scars don’t define you.” They just prove you’re stronger than death. He stepped back. “We need to hurry downstairs. I should—”
“Thank you.”
I don’t want your thanks. I just want you. He straightened his tux. “There will be a large number of photographers and reporters in the hotel tonight, so you need to prepare for their questions.”
Her fingers slid over the bracelet on her left wrist. “Am I supposed to be your assistant tonight? Or your lover?”
The question caught him off-guard. “You’re both. I thought I made that clear.”
Her fingers kept stroking the bracelet.
I want to see her in those bracelets and nothing else.
By the end of the night, he would.
“You don’t fuck your employees, remember?”
“You’re more than an employee.” Soon, everyone would know that.
He offered her his arm. “Time to go.” There would be no going back after this.
She touched him lightly. Her body pressed against his. The woman smelled delicious.
Her fingers curled around his arm. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m worried.”
“You shouldn’t be.” He caught her hand. Lifted it to his lips. Pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I want you to trust me.”
“I do.”
The instant words seemed to slam into him. Noah forced a smile. “Then you have nothing to fear.”
***
The packed hotel ballroom had Claire’s knees knocking together. Energy filled the air. Laughter and drinks were flowing freely.
And it sure seemed like reporters were everywhere.
Claire and Noah had barely gotten past the gleaming, marble steps in the ballroom when the first set of reporters closed in.
Sure, the men were in perfectly cut tuxes and the women wore glittering gowns, but Claire could see the avid gleam in their eyes and—
“Noah York…” A redhead murmured as her lips rose in a smile that never met her eyes.
“Jennifer.” He inclined his head.
“Are the rumors true?” she asked. Then Jennifer directed her stare at Claire. “Are you the infamous Claire Kramer?”
“Jennifer Swan sort of…manages the main gossip pages in town,” Noah said to Claire as his finger stroked down her arm. “And, baby, being called ‘infamous’ is a good thing.”
Wait, had he just called Claire ‘baby’ in front of all those people?
“Then the stories about the two of you being an item are true?” Jennifer demanded as she inched closer. “Interesting. Claire, how do you feel about—”
“Claire’s my fiancée,” Noah said, and his voice seemed to carry all the way across the ballroom. “So, yes, Jennifer, we’re an item.” He gave the group of reporters a wide smile. “And feel free to print that in the papers.”
Cameras flashed then.
“Sm
ile, Claire,” Noah whispered. His lips brushed over her ear. She felt the sensual lick of his tongue against her.
Claire smiled.
And, just like that, with his one, earth-shattering announcement, she and Noah were the center of attention in that ballroom. Everyone was looking at them.
Some people were smiling. Some were whispering.
Claire wanted to vanish.
The crowd closed in tighter.
Noah climbed up a few steps, pulling her back up with him. Then Janelle was there—and she had a microphone in her hand. She offered it to Noah.
Noah planned this.
Now Claire knew why he’d wanted her to wear the perfect dress. His fiancée had to be perfect.
“On the first anniversary of this hotel…” Noah sounded so smooth and polished as he addressed the crowd around them. “It only seems fitting that I get to share news that has made me the happiest man on earth.”
Liar, liar. She hated it when Noah lied.
He lifted her hand into the air. The blue diamonds around her wrist caught the light and seemed to shine even brighter. “Claire Kramer has just consented to be my wife.”
Applause shook the ballroom.
Noah laughed. “And I want you all to celebrate with us. Bring out the champagne!”
And, at his order, the champagne flowed. As if they’d been waiting for that cue—and Claire suspected they had—waiters bustled out with dozens and dozens of champagne flutes. The champagne was distributed quickly.
She even found a flute placed in her hand.
Dazed, Claire’s gaze shot around the room. She saw Drake in the back, leaning against a broad, white column. Like pretty much everyone else, he had a champagne flute in his hand. He lifted it toward her.
Trace Weston stood beside him. Trace had his hand around Skye’s shoulders. Skye stared back at Claire. Did the other woman looked worried?
Do I look terrified? Because Claire sure felt that way.
Everyone was lifting up their flutes as they toasted to her and Noah. Noah had freed her hand when he took his own flute of champagne.
He offered her a grin. “To my future wife,” Noah said, the microphone catching every word he uttered. “Claire, I always want you to be mine.”
Their glasses touched lightly, and she knew what he’d just done.
The reporters. The people. The public display.
The killer had gone quiet, and Noah thought to draw him out again with show.
“Always mine,” Noah whispered and his lips took hers.
***
Claire was running, and she knew it. Noah was surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, and it had been hard, but Claire had managed to slip away from the crowd.
And she was now dashing for the exit as quickly as she could.
“You didn’t tell me you were planning to marry Noah.” Skye slipped into Claire’s path. She was smiling, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Congratulations. I hope you’ll be—”
Claire caught Skye’s hands. She brought her in close, as if she were hugging the other woman. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. He never asked me to marry him. This is all some plan of his.”
A plan that was ripping her apart. Noah didn’t know how long she’d actually dreamed of having a life, a husband who loved her.
He didn’t know how hard it had been for her to stand there while he pretended they were the perfect couple.
She eased back from Skye, but made sure to keep that terrible, fake smile on her face. In case others were watching. And they were.
Skye’s gaze searched hers. “What plan?” Skye whispered.
“He’s putting us in the spotlight. I think he wants the killer to come at him again.”
“So Noah can catch the guy.” Skye was gorgeous in a black dress that fit her like a glove. “But he’s pulled you into the cross-fire, too.” Anger roughened her words.
“I was always in the fire.” That danger was nothing new. She’d been hunted since she was sixteen, in one way or another.
She eased away from Skye. “I just…I need to be alone for a few minutes.” Then she’d get her control back. She’d stop feeling as if she were about to break apart. But when Claire looked around the ballroom, she saw Trace striding toward them. And Noah had pulled free of his throng and he was closing in, too.
“Buy me just a few minutes,” Claire said.
Skye nodded.
Claire rushed for the doors. A few more steps, and she’d head outside and be able to breathe for a bit. She’d suck in some air on the balcony, pretend that everything was fine, and she’d be okay.
But she didn’t make it to the balcony. A man’s hand snaked out and caught her arm, and Claire opened her mouth to scream.
“No need for that,” Drake said as his hold tightened around her. “You know you’re safe with me.”
He pulled her behind one of the huge, towering columns that lined the outskirts of the ballroom. He caged her against that column, and he lifted her left hand. “There’s no ring here.”
“No.”
“You didn’t look like a blushing bride-to-be up there.”
“That’s because I didn’t know I was going to be one.”
He exhaled. “He should’ve told you.”
Drake seemed to surround her fully then, and, hidden behind that heavy column, no prying eyes could see them. “Did he tell you? Did you know what Noah was planning?” It was her life. Noah should never have pulled a stunt like this without talking to her first.
“Hell, no. The guy’s always twisting up the game.”
There was no anonymity for her now. Her face would be everywhere. In the papers. On the news. Everyone would know who she was. Worse, they’d know who she’d been.
“I need to get out of here,” Claire said, nearly desperate. “Those people—it’s too much. I feel like they’re vultures circling in for the kill.”
“Because that’s exactly what they are.” He stepped back, surprising her. Then he took her hand in his.
Claire’s breath eased out.
“Interesting,” Drake murmured.
What?
“Come on. I’ll get you some freedom.” Then he was guiding her though the ballroom’s back doors. In moments, they were sliding into the private elevator. “You know, you’re leaving your fiancé in the middle of your own party.”
A shiver had her tensing. “I’ll go back. I just need a few moments.”
His hand still held hers.
“You didn’t tense on me,” Drake said as the elevator doors closed.
She stared at their hands. No, when he’d taken her fingers in his, she hadn’t tensed. Claire had actually felt relieved by his touch then.
“Not afraid of me anymore?” Drake queried softly. “Did you decide that I don’t have a monster inside?”
She pulled away from him. “I know you do.” But, no, she wasn’t afraid of him.
Maybe she should be.
“You don’t belong in Noah’s world.”
Those words had her blinking in surprise.
“When this is all over, you need to leave. Run as fast and as far as you can, but be warned, Noah will follow you.”
“W-why are you telling me this?”
His smile was sad. “Because I like you, and I don’t want to see you ripped apart by the vultures that always circle him.”
The elevator doors opened. Claire hurried out—
And she slammed right into Austin Harrison.
***
“She wants some time alone,” Skye said as she put her little ex-ballerina body right in front of Noah. Like she was going to slow him down. “Give her that time,” Skye ordered. Her hands were on her hips and a glower was on her face.
Noah started to brush by her, but then Trace slid up behind his wife. Trace lifted a brow. “I’d suggest you listen to that advice. I saw Claire’s expression a few minutes ago. That woman is running scared.”
And that was why he needed to get
to her. He hadn’t told Claire his plans beforehand because he’d known that she’d balk. But if he introduced her as his fiancée in front of everyone…I gambled that she’d stay quiet. That the shock would keep her at my side.
It had. For a time. But when the shock faded, Claire had sure run fast.
“She can’t keep running from me,” he said. She needed to listen to him. He had a damn fine plan in place.
“She’s not running from you. She just wants to be able to breathe without every reporter in the room watching her.” Skye’s smile was grim. “I know how that feels.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “You think I screwed up tonight, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Skye didn’t pull her punches.
His gaze hit Trace’s.
His friend nodded. Dammit. They both thought he’d screwed up?
“I am protecting her.” He expected Trace to get that. “She can’t just keep hiding out at the Towers, waiting for that asshole out there to make a move.” He couldn’t do that. He’d never been the type to wait for an attack to come. “In battle, you always take the offensive if you want to—”
“This isn’t battle,” Skye said softly. “This is her life.”
Shit.
“And do you really think she liked that her first proposal was a fake one?” Skye’s voice sharpened even more. “No woman likes that.”
He schooled his expression. “Who says it was a fake proposal?”
Trace brushed a kiss over Skye’s cheek. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger, just plenty of flash around her wrists. Those bracelets…were they supposed to show everyone that she was chained to you?”
No, the bracelets had been designed to show Claire that she didn’t have to constantly worry about her scars. He hadn’t wanted her to worry about pulling down her sleeves to hide the scars or finding ribbons to bind her wrists. “You don’t understand my relationship with Claire.”
Trace shook his head. “I’m starting to think you don’t, either.”
Noah’s gaze scanned the ballroom. “I need to find her.” He should be talking to Claire, not Trace. He had to make sure she realized that nothing had changed between them. I’m not using her.