by Jane Godman
“Nothing I can think of.” She paused before returning to her work. “Nice to meet you, Bree.”
They left the kennels and headed toward the creek. April weather could be unpredictable but, although there was a light breeze, the sun was shining and the sky was cloud free. Since it could be snowing heavily three hours from now, Rylan and Bree had both dressed in layers. As they walked, she removed her hooded sweatshirt and tied it around her waist.
“Kasey said everything is fine at the gallery,” she said.
“You sound like you don’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed about that.”
She smiled. “It’s nice to at least be able to pretend I’m indispensable to the firm I created.”
“Take it as a compliment. You’ve built up systems where everyone knows what they’re doing. You can take a break without it all falling apart.” They walked on in silence for a minute or two. “Does that feel strange?”
“It’s probably the circumstances,” Bree said. “It’s not like this break was planned.”
They reached an area of the creek with a high bank. Rylan jumped down and held out a hand to help Bree. Boo was a Canada goose, a large wild bird with a black head and neck, white cheeks and a brown body. He was hunkered in close to an overhanging rock and didn’t respond when they approached him.
“Can I touch him?” Bree asked.
“He’ll let you stroke his head.” Rylan demonstrated by gently running a finger over the gander’s feathers.
She knelt on the stony ground, silently stroking the sorrowful bird. Boo’s long neck drooped under her touch.
“Imagine how it would feel—” there was a catch in Bree’s voice “—if everything you believed about your future was suddenly snatched away from you.”
Where had Rylan heard something like that just recently? He frowned in an effort to remember. Oh, that’s right. It was when Judith, the server at Arty Sans, had talked about a conservation group who had tried to preserve the original buildings that had become the Diamond.
“Boo should have a friend,” Bree said.
Her understanding of the bird’s plight felt like cold fingertips touching Rylan’s heart. He knew what loneliness felt like. How it could eat you alive and spit out the pieces. How it left you aching to feel warm hands embracing you, or a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.
The difference between him and Boo? Rylan wasn’t going there. Not know. But, unlike him, the poor bird hadn’t done anything to deserve this.
“You’re right. Even if he never finds another love interest, he needs company.” He knelt next to Bree. “I’ll call the local rescue center and see if they have a lonely female goose they can send us.”
“Also, maybe the creek is too much for him right now. He’s weak and depressed.” She kissed the top of Boo’s head. “Why don’t we move him close to the house and get him a kiddie pool? It’ll be more interesting for him there.”
“Good thinking,” Rylan said. “Looks like you’re going to be an asset around here.”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not planning on sticking around.”
Chapter 11
Bree had called Trey and given him detailed instructions for where to find the gown she wanted for the charity gala. When she ended the call to her brother, Rylan had quirked a brow at her.
“Did I just hear you give the sheriff coordinates?”
“Not quite.” She had squirmed slightly under his amused stare. “I have a lot of dresses in my closet.”
True to his word, Trey had dropped off her gown earlier that day, staying only to let them know—in a frustrated tone—that he had no more leads on the case. He had said he would see them both later.
Now, as Bree stepped into the family room, dressed for the swanky function, Rylan sucked in a breath. “Those numbers you gave Trey?”
Her fingers plucked at her skirt as she returned his gaze. “Yes?”
“Totally worth every digit.”
Her shoulders lowered as some of the tension went out of her frame. The full-length evening gown was a deep rose pink, a shade that complemented her tawny coloring. High-necked in front, the back swooped low. The bodice was tightly fitted, the skirt flowing out from the waist in an A-shape. Her curls were piled on top of her head, and she wore diamond drops in her ears.
The whole effect took his breath away. Even more than usual.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She indicated his designer tux.
He gripped his lapels. “Standard item in any bodyguard’s wardrobe.”
Bree picked up her purse and wrap. “Have you worked for many famous people?”
“Yeah. But it’s confidential.” He tapped the side of his nose, then mentioned a couple of names.
“Really?” Bree turned to look at him as they walked out to the car. “Wow. Is he as handsome as he appears on screen? And what about her? There are rumors that she can be difficult. Are they true?”
He spent the journey recounting stories of his celebrity clients and answering Bree’s questions. “This is all top secret, you understand.”
“Of course.” She was half turned in her seat to face him, delicious wafts of her floral perfume tantalizing his senses. “Besides, I’m not sure I believe any of it.”
Rylan placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Bree.” He laughed. “Especially because some of it is true.”
“Like the story about the famous actress who made you cook her dinner with your eyes closed because she was having a bad hair day?”
“That may have been an exaggeration.” He took his eyes off the road for a second, catching a glimpse of her smile. It warmed him all over. “She made me wear shades.”
Bree gave a gurgle of laughter. “Admit it. You just can’t be trusted to tell the truth.”
As soon as she said the words, the atmosphere changed. The easy, companionable mood they had been enjoying was gone. In its place, tension rose between them like a brick wall. Would it always be that way? Given what had happened, it was hard to see how it could be otherwise.
Rylan drove past the edge of Roaring Springs, taking the secluded valley road that led to The Chateau. Although he had never been there, he had heard of its history. Once known as the Gilford Springs Hotel, it had been renovated and expanded into a world-class hotel. A well-known spring ran through the back of the property, and an old 1920s bathhouse had been fully converted into a five-star spa. Marketed by the Colton family as a “little piece of France,” it was a haven for the rich and famous, a place to get away from the paparazzi.
Even so, he wasn’t prepared for the magnificence of the property that came into view at the end of the sweeping drive. Whoever designed The Chateau had achieved the remarkable. A mix of authenticity and fairytale, The Chateau combined the luxury, splendor and comfort of the great French mansions.
As Rylan halted the car, two uniformed parking attendants sprang to attention. One opened the passenger door for Bree, while the other took Rylan’s keys and arranged to take care of his vehicle.
Rylan offered Bree his arm. When she took it, relief flooded through him. If she could still bear to touch him... But no, letting himself hope would be a special kind of madness.
As they mounted the steps, porters held open the doors.
“A pleasure as always, Ms. Colton.” The concierge bowed low. “Your parents are already here.”
The interior of the building was as seductive as its facade, with marble columns, light wood paneling, parquet inlaid floors and richly decorated ceilings. The focal point of the lobby was a central fountain, with a grand staircase sweeping down in two wings at either side. On one side of the reception area, a large hearth fireplace provided a warm welcome.
As they ascended the staircase, a young red-haired woman aimed a cell phone at them. Rylan stepped in front
of Bree. “No photographs.”
“What is this?” As they drew level with the woman, she pulled Bree into a hug. “You look so gorgeous I have to share a picture on Instagram.”
“This is my cousin Skye,” Bree explained to Rylan. “She’s the marketing director for The Colton Empire.”
Skye held out a hand to Rylan. “And you are?”
“Rylan Bennet.” He could see her storing up his name, while hoping for more information.
“Please, Skye. It’s a long story, and I don’t want to go into it here,” Bree said. “But don’t share any photos of me on social media, okay?”
Skye’s animated features became serious. “Of course not.” She looked Rylan up and down before her gaze returned to her cousin’s face. “Is there anything I can do?”
Bree placed a hand on her arm. “I’m fine. Honestly. But thank you.”
Although Skye appeared unconvinced, her attention was claimed by a group of new arrivals. Murmuring something about the two of them doing lunch soon, she turned away.
Bree took Rylan’s arm again, and they continued up the stairs and into the ballroom. It was a glorious cream and gold space, with twelve full-length arched windows on each side. Six huge chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling, and fresh flowers in shades of white, pale blue and lilac were artfully placed at regular intervals. The whole effect was light, bright and elegant.
Rylan’s first glance around the room revealed that the wise, wealthy and politically motivated of Roaring Springs were already gathered. It also honed in on Skye...wearing a different dress.
“Whoa.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Didn’t we just...?”
Bree laughed. “Skye is an identical twin. Come and meet my other cousin Phoebe.”
Although Skye and Phoebe were identical in looks, it was immediately obvious that their personalities were very different. Skye was the outgoing, bubbly twin, while Phoebe was quieter and more thoughtful.
“Everything looks wonderful,” Bree assured her, after she had completed the introductions.
“Do you think so? It’s so hard keeping track of every detail.” Phoebe’s eyes darted around the room as she spoke.
“Phoebe is the manager here at The Chateau,” Bree explained to Rylan. “She’s my aunt Mara’s right-hand woman.”
“I’m not sure Mom would agree with you if you’d seen the fiasco we had earlier with the napkins. Oh, my goodness, what is going on over there?” She gave Rylan and Bree an apologetic smile. “Please excuse me. I distinctly told the serving staff to move clockwise with the champagne...”
“How will we survive?” Rylan deadpanned as they watched her cousin hurry off in the opposite direction.
“Stop it.” Bree’s lips twitched. “Phoebe is the most conscientious person I know. Events like this are very important to her.”
For a few minutes, they stood to one side of the crowd. A quartet of violin, harp, cello and flute played on a stage at the far end of the room, their haunting melodies just audible above the conversations. One of the errant servers paused beside them with a tray of champagne.
Bree took a glass, but Rylan shook his head. “Water, please.”
“I’m sorry,” Bree said, when the waiter went away to fulfill his request. “Most people will spend the night here in The Chateau, so driving won’t be a problem.”
“It’s not just driving. I’m working, remember?”
“Oh.” Her teeth caught her lower lip. “Of course, you are.”
He frowned. She appeared to be upset, but he couldn’t understand why. He had been hired to protect her. If he could turn the clock back to the moment when he’d agreed to do it, would he change things? His gaze lingered on Bree’s profile. That would mean he never would have met her. He couldn’t wish for that. Even though his heart had taken a beating from which it might never recover, Bree had brought a new perspective into his life.
And let’s not forget...she didn’t hurt me. I hurt us.
“Guys.” Bree’s dad smiled as he approached their position at the side of the ballroom. “Why are you hiding over there? Come and say hi.”
Although Audrey greeted them with delight, she quickly returned to a nose-to-nose conversation with the director of her favorite non-profit organization. The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of introductions, during which Rylan tried to keep track of the Colton family. He already knew that he wouldn’t meet Earl, Bree’s ninety-four-year-old grandfather. Earl was not in the best of health, and dementia had slowly eroded his memories. Bree had explained that he needed to spend most of his time in his own home, with his team of caregivers close by.
They finally drew breath and stopped to talk to Russ Colton, who was Earl’s oldest son, and the man who ran The Colton Empire. Now in his mid-sixties, he was tall and broad-shouldered, but getting a little heavier around the middle. His wife, Mara, was director of operations at The Chateau. She was stylishly groomed, and rail thin, with not a single short dark blond hair out of place. Rylan, who was used to reading people, got the impression he was looking at a woman who wasn’t happy. He also noticed that, although she and her husband barely spoke to each other, there was clearly some tension between them.
“Congratulations, Aunt Mara,” Bree said. “Mom told me that Wyatt and Bailey are expecting a baby.”
For the first time, Mara’s dark blue eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure. “I’m so excited. Being a grandmother is such a joy.”
The man who came up behind her laughed. “And we’re excited that you’re excited, Mom. Seriously.” He winked at Rylan and Bree. “We already have Grandma Mara lined up for babysitting duty.”
“And you know I’ll be delighted to do it, Wyatt.” Mara tapped him on the arm before turning to the woman at his side. “How are you, Bailey, dear?”
“Fine.” Bailey held up her glass of water in a salute to Rylan. “Just glad I’m not the only one who can’t touch the champagne.”
“Rylan is driving,” Bree explained, in response to Mara’s raised eyebrows.
“You should have stayed here at The Chateau,” Mara said. “Most other people are.”
“Work commitments.” He gave an apologetic shrug.
“Yeah, Cindy from Finance can’t keep things running all by herself.” Bree hid a smile as she snagged another glass of champagne. “What about you, Uncle Russ, are you ready for babysitting duty?”
Russ smiled, but before he could speak, Mara cut in. “Oh, Russ doesn’t do children, do you, darling?” There was a definite lack of warmth in the endearment.
There was no ignoring the provocation in her words. Rylan waited for the storm to break around him. It didn’t. Instead, Russ gave Mara a bleak look and returned to his conversation with Calvin. No one else seemed to notice anything unusual.
“What was that?” he said in a quiet tone, making sure Bree was the only person who could hear.
“What was what?” She frowned.
“The way Mara spoke to Russ. She may as well have taken a knife and cut him open.”
“I didn’t notice,” Bree admitted. “They’re not a very warm couple. It’s just their way.”
Rylan always felt like families were a mystery to which he didn’t have the key. Maybe that was because his early life had been so unhappy. Looking at Russ and Mara, he could almost feel the friction between them. Yet he only had to turn his head to see an example of a loving couple. Bree’s parents had their heads together as they laughed at a private joke. Audrey had her hand on Calvin’s arm, and he tenderly brushed her hair back from her cheek.
Rylan had believed family life was not for him. After his mom died, he had been at a crossroads. The trauma of his early life could easily have led him into a dysfunctional adult life. Luckily, he had chosen the army, and found the sense of belonging that had been missing from his childhood.
But lately... W
ell, it was possible his view of himself as a family man could have changed.
“I need to find Kendall,” Bree said, as she drained her champagne glass. “She’s my cousin Decker’s wife, the one who was injured when the gallery was vandalized.”
In the time they’d spent meeting members of the Colton family, the ballroom had filled up. As a bodyguard, this would normally be Rylan’s nightmare scenario. There were too many unknowns. But he had already assessed the dark-suited men standing close to the windows. The Colton security guards looked like they knew what they were doing. Although he wouldn’t relax, it was good to know he wasn’t alone.
Finding Decker and Kendall proved difficult among the crush of designer-clad bodies, but Bree managed it eventually. Kendall still wore a patch covering the gauze pad over her eye, but she was in good spirits and assured them that her doctors had said her sight would be fine.
“Ahem.” She waved her hand at Bree and the stones in her ring caught the light from the chandeliers.
“Oh, my goodness! That’s gorgeous.” Bree hugged first Kendall, then Decker. “I’m so happy for you both.”
As Kendall looked up at Decker, happiness shone on both their faces. “The engagement ring is beautiful but the wedding ring means even more.”
A buffet dinner was served soon after, and speeches followed. Remy Colton, The Chateau’s director of public relations, joked about the unseasonably cold weather. Since that meant the ski season could be extended—which would be good for business—he asked everyone to raise their glasses in a toast. As he left the podium, Rylan heard Remy take a different tone as he confided to Mara that he feared the upcoming Film Festival might not have the same attendance as usual.
It was a brief glimpse inside the well-oiled Colton machine. Rylan guessed Remy’s words related to the issues the family was experiencing. Bad publicity was the last thing the Coltons needed with a prestigious event like the Film Festival on the horizon. It raised the question in his mind yet again. Was the person who was targeting Bree the same one who was going after her family?