She quickly checked the page and discovered that the reflection of light in the mirror represents the light of God that people cannot see. Navid said he wasn't religious, but the symbolism of the mirror was cool. "Anything else?"
"Flowers." Margo nodded. "And candles."
"We have candles, but which flower? Any kind?"
Margo opened a tab, typed tall pretty flower into her search engine on the iPad and scrolled. Elle sat next to her and waited, but then Margo pointed and said, "This."
Elle clicked and read the name. "Hyacinth?"
"Maman always used this one."
Elle returned to the laptop and found a florist nearby that could deliver by that afternoon. While she placed the order, she glanced at the iPad and read the symbolism. She laughed. "Wait—this means narcissism?"
"What's that?" Margo asked.
"Nothing, sweetie." Well Navid already thought she was a bit of a princess, but flowers were pretty.
Margo stared at the computer. "What’s your favorite flower, Elle?"
She sucked in her bottom lip. "Roses. I love roses, actually. Perhaps we can add yellow ones to match the set?"
Margo stared at her. "Is your place filled with roses then?"
"No." Elle placed her hand on her back and shook her head. "I never buy myself flowers."
"Why not?" Margo’s big brown eyes seemed so soulful.
So she might as well add to the symbolism with her own choices. "It’s old-fashioned in America, but the guy who liked a girl brought her flowers and I sometimes wish that was still true."
"We’ll make sure your yellow and the blue are mixed." Margo beamed and nodded. "Flowers are pretty."
Elle shouldn't point out her heart’s desire to a girl, but at least part of her was now in the symbolism too. "Anything else?"
"Two candles burn on both sides of the mirror."
That was placement and not anything else to buy. They had quite a list of things to do and Elle hoped Navid appreciated their efforts. She pressed the buy button, choosing expedited delivery, then told Margo, "It’s done. We have to hard boil the eggs before we can paint them, and decorate the garlic and stir that pudding—we’ve only got a few hours to put everything together! And be ready for the party. Is there anything special to wear to the party?"
"Look pretty in a dress." Margo hugged her. "Thank you, Elle."
Now she just had to make everything look beautiful, which was a skill her mother valued above all else. "Don't thank me until we're done." Elle stood and turned a vase to let it reflect the light. "Let's head to the kitchen. We have things to do, sweetie."
Maybe after the sofreh Navid would see that they fit together in more ways than just sex. She'd have to show him she they could be a perfect match, if he opened up his heart at least a little to the possibility.
Navid composed an email regarding bandwidth the streaming company paid for and how they were overusing on a daily basis. If they upped their subscription, he'd offer a deal, but they needed to sign the contract.
The security at the condo was top notch, and he could concentrate on work, knowing his daughter was safe.
It turned out Paul Laguerre was wanted for a variety of crimes that included a possible murder, and the Feds were after him already. His security team, strengthened by his brother’s company, now worked with the FBI to ensure Margo, and Elle, were out of danger.
His stomach churned. None of that made him feel better and wouldn't, not until Paul was in prison.
His phone rang and jogged his concentration. He waited to listen to the voicemail rather than take the call. What could Andrada want? To cancel and break his daughter’s heart?
Just wanted to let you know that your sister Olivia and her husband are coming tonight too. We all have presents for Margo.
He tapped a pen against the desk top and tried to ignore the message. His father's wife was why Navid had never met Thomas Hawke, his father, and until recently he’d thought the man had wanted nothing to do with him. So her message felt forced.
He turned the phone off and dropped the pen back on the desk.
Growing up in Iran, he’d used his mother’s last name, Barapour. Why honor a man who hadn’t shown up to rear his child? Now in America, it was easier for others to accept his daughter with the surname Hawke.
Work. He should work. Navid picked up a pen and paper. What did the company spend monthly? What quote could he offer? He wrote two digits down and then stopped.
A few months ago, he had met his half-sister Scarlett and helped her escape from Maddox’s insane revenge scheme against his father's family. In the process, he’d revealed his own identity. Now it seemed they all wanted to include him as a full-fledged family member and he had no idea what to do.
Navid held the phone and stared at the screen. He should say something. Finally, he settled on his words. She'll appreciate it. See you at seven.
After the text, he was hungry and decided to order lunch, calling his favorite restaurant to order kabobs and rice that his security detail would pick up.
Outside in the kitchen area he heard Margo and Elle laughing. He looked down at his quote but couldn’t focus. Clearly the numbers didn't want to add right now. He put the paper and pen on the desk and stood. Without over-thinking, he opened his office door and saw how his daughter tried to hold an egg in a metal wire, Elle at her side, but the egg wobbled and it dropped in the dye. Margo squealed and Elle laughed. He called out, "Guess it's green."
"Pedar!" His daughter beamed in excitement shouted, "We're painting eggs for the sofreh. And it's blue."
So were the tips of her fingers. "I see that." He stepped closer, meeting Elle’s hazel gaze. He owed her for bringing laughter back into their home. Blonde, breathtaking—she shouldn't be anywhere near him and the darkness in his heart. "The dining room looks like it’s a huge arts and crafts project, now. I’m happy if we don’t have the full Haft Seen and we can just have a nice dinner with family."
Margo lifted her chin. "I want to do this, Pedar. Elle is helping."
I see that, too. Elle wore a smudge of blue stain on the back of her hand. She truly radiated innocence and light, which were two things he didn’t deserve. He turned toward his daughter. "You only have a few hours left before the family comes."
His phone beeped and he assumed it was Andrada Hawke again, so he glanced down. His breath caught in his throat. Locking your daughter away won't save her from her fate.
No. Navid scanned the kitchen, then forced a neutral expression. Neither Margo nor Elle could know. He had to keep them safe and then speak to his security and the FBI. Where was Paul?
The doorbell rang. His calm fled. "Everyone hide."
Elle narrowed her eyes as if realizing his concern might be over the top. "It's the delivery for our sofreh. Security is sending up the things I’ve ordered. Are you okay?"
So much for hiding his fear. He nodded. "Well, let me answer it and you can get back to coloring those eggs."
"After you’re done, can I talk to you for a minute?" Elle asked.
She smelled fresh and pure and she had tasted sweeter than anything else he'd ever savored. Not that he should or could say that. He nodded. "I’ll be back." He opened the front door and greeted Hank West and let the delivery in. His security team said, "Everything cleared downstairs."
With a glance back at the kitchen, he discreetly showed the officer the message from Paul on his phone. "Be on high alert. He's dangerous."
"I'm calling it in now," the security officer said.
Good. The FBI needed to be involved. No one was getting to Margo. Navid glanced at the man's name as he put the boxes on the dining room table. Then he said, "Thanks, West."
"Not a problem." West walked out the door and spoke to his partner.
Navid started back to his office, but Elle called out, "Don’t forget—one minute. I'm coming."
The last person he needed to see alone was her, but he didn't say anything. He opened his office door and hear
d her footsteps behind him. Once she entered the room, she closed the door and asked, "What happened? I saw your face after the text message."
He had to keep this business and not stare at her rounded breasts pushing against her t-shirt. Her hazel eyes were safer so he looked there. "There was another threat. Neither you or Margo can go outside. I wish you wouldn’t have ordered all of that junk."
"It’s important to Margo to share this. We're getting ready for the holiday tonight. What did the message say?"
Family. Guests he might need to keep Margo safe from harm. He showed her the text and she covered her lips. "I'm here to help."
Every muscle in his body was tight and he wanted to work it off in the gym, but as he stared at her body he felt even more tension. He turned his back on her and walked to the door but she put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't shut me out, Navid."
Her touch set him on fire. He stopped though his heart beat faster. "Elle, stop. You're everything I shouldn't want."
Her lips parted slightly with surprise and then she kissed him softly. He wrapped his hands around her waist and held her tight before he deepened their kiss.
There was nothing light or airy about how much he wanted her.
Elle was sexy breathless and a little messy, her blonde hair freed from her ponytail. He walked her backward until she pressed her back to the wall and he reached under her snug t-shirt. She pressed her breasts higher and he pushed her a little harder against the wall to feel her soft skin while he sampled her mouth. She tasted better than chocolate and then let his fingers go into her bra and squeeze her nipples.
"Pedar..." Margo's voice grew closer.
Right. This was wrong. He let Elle go and jumped back about two feet. Elle had time to adjust her shirt as the door opened. Margo stared at both of them and asked, "Can Elle help me with drawing on the eggs now?"
"Yes, sorry I kept her."
Elle's face blushed red, but she joined Margo without a word. Margo then added, "Pedar, Elle likes roses. You should buy her some."
"She told you that?" Navid stared at Elle's back as she hurried toward the door. Perhaps he should get her flowers. He'd done nothing but maul her since she’d arrived yesterday morning, not that she’d once complained. Eventually she'd hate him though.
"Margo!" Elle shook her head and took his daughter's hand. "We were talking about the New Year’s celebration. Let's go to the kitchen."
"Pedar, flowers," Margo demanded as Elle tugged her out of the room.
He crossed his arms as the door closed. He was a horrible father who left his daughter alone for a minute to paw her temporary nanny. A knot formed in his stomach as he thought about what might have happened. He had security at the door downstairs, as well as in the hall. Nobody came in or out of the property without his staff.
He called a florist and ordered two dozen red roses. Security could shuffle his flower delivery into his bedroom, where he imagined showering Elle with petals. His daughter was right, and he could offer her flowers.
Once he was done, his phone rang. He saw it was Leila so he answered. "Hello?"
"I know you said you can't go out anytime and you're protecting your daughter, but I was wondering if my parents and I might stop by for tea tomorrow, to celebrate Norooz in a small way."
"Leila, I don't know if that's a good idea." He closed his eyes. Elle had been jealous by her visit, though her jealousy had been cute. "It's not a good time for me."
"Hold on a second. Someone is pounding on my door!"
Navid slumped in his chair until he heard muffled sounds of a struggle. Leila? His heart raced and he gripped the seat edge. Then he heard Paul's voice coming from Leila’s phone. "You hid your daughter from me so I'm taking the woman you love. If you don't get me the updated virus in twenty-four hours, your Leila is dead."
He jumped out of his chair and paced. "Paul, I can't..."
Paul hung up the phone. At least he hadn't taken Elle, but he felt instantly guilty for the thought. Leila didn't deserve this. It was his fault that she’d been taken.
Pacing around the desk, he had no idea what to do—Paul wanted something only his brother Gabe could barter, which meant he had to call his father's family and let them know Paul had upped the stakes. Leila shouldn't be in danger because, as usual, he’d failed everyone.
Elle stepped away from the elaborate dining room display and hugged herself. It truly was a gorgeous set up, full of beauty and meaning.
The dishes of herbs and spices propped up in various positions, the placement of the book against the mirror, really captured that the entire holiday was one of symbolism, even if it wasn't religious. She rubbed Margo's back. "So, what do you think?"
Margo bounced on her tip-toes. "I love it. It's so pretty!" She turned and pulled Elle's arm. "Let's get dressed and take a family picture before everyone else arrives."
Family. As a girl, she had waited with her mother for what felt like an eternity as her father rounded up her brothers to take a photo together. And now they were all in jail. "I’ll take it for you and your dad."
Margo tugged her arm again. "I want to remember the first sofreh I did by myself."
Margo had certainly managed the project like a pro. "I helped," Elle teased as she took one long slow step toward her bedroom.
"Okay, we did it together." Margo nudged her and Elle walked at a better pace. Near her door, she said, "Now let's look like princesses too."
Elle fixed her butterfly necklace and then placed her hand on her chest. Emeralds, rubies and diamonds. If she sold it, it might be enough for a retainer. She blinked. "So I'm to dress like a princess?"
"Yes!" Margo twirled on the toes of one foot. "We're both princesses."
She knelt down to eye level. "Can I be a fairy princess?"
"I'm not four anymore." Margo rolled her eyes and shook her head. "There are no such things as fairies."
Elle stood but had an exaggerated pout on her face. "Okay just regular princesses then."
"Yes." Margo nodded like Elle was a child who finally understood.
The door to Navid's office slammed open. An instant later Navid stormed out and headed right for the front door. Worried, Elle called out, "Wait! Navid, where are you going?"
He turned, his body so pent up his muscles seemed rigid. Navid joined her, his gaze tense. "You and Margo stay here."
A knock at the door sounded. He held up his finger in a gesture for her to wait and opened the door. Two security guards walked in and Navid said, "This is Hank West and his partner. They are working my security detail right now—West will deal with the food delivery as well as keep you safe. For now, don't go anywhere. Stay away from the windows and don’t answer the phone."
He made to leave again. Her heart raced. Something had to be wrong. Elle ran forward and took his arm. "Why, what's going on? Why are you leaving?"
He whispered, "Leila's been kidnapped. I'm going downstairs to talk to the police. Don't let anyone in. If there is any problem, have Margo take you to the safe room."
"Safe room?" The words spun. She’d only heard of them from the movies. Navid's life was so different than hers. Her heart pounded now, but she glanced at Margo's closed bedroom door. She was getting dressed for the party. She grabbed Navid's shirt. "Your brother and sisters will be here soon."
Navid took her hands off his chest and popped his head into the hall. "West, if they are in my family, please let me them in, but only family."
"Okay," West said. "I have the guest list."
"And give us a minute." Navid turned back toward Elle and she saw in his blue eyes a growing storm.
"Yes, sir," West's partner answered.
She immediately grabbed his hands as hers were beginning to shake. "Navid, I'm scared."
"Don't be." He kissed her knuckles. "I need you to stay with Margo and keep her calm."
"Okay." Again, she trembled and it got worse. If his girlfriend had been taken, no one was safe. She felt so cold. Her brothers were in jail and so
were her parents. Now she and that little girl in there were in danger.
He brushed his mouth to her forehead and it wasn't enough. She pressed her lips to his and claimed a kiss. A guttural cry came out of his throat and then he kissed her, hard.
She stopped shaking. He ended the kissed and rubbed her arms for a minute and checked on her. Then he walked away. She stood silent and still until she heard the door close.
Right. She was the adult in charge. She swallowed and straightened her shirt. Once she felt like she could breathe normally, she rushed into her room and threw on her blue satin dress, fitted and floor-length, that she'd been wearing the afternoon her parents were arrested. She'd been at a charity gala to save the tortoise population.
While the government seized all her designer dressers, they hadn't gone after what she’d had on her back.
If she could stay strong for her parents, she could do this too. She left her room and knocked on her charge's door. "Margo? Are you ready? We have to set the plates out for when the food arrives. I don't normally sit on the floor. You’ll have to show me what to do."
Margo came out in a green and yellow dress that was clearly designed for her. She twirled and asked, "How do I look?"
Once again Elle put her hand on her chest and mocked a bow. "Better than a princess. Can I call you Queen Margo?"
"No!" She laughed. "Aunt Olivia is coming tonight and she's a real princess."
Friends were good. For almost two weeks, she had needed to see someone like Olivia, who would never judge her because they’d been friends all their lives and who wouldn't throw her out because she thought her last name was now horrible. Her head raised. "Olivia is coming? How do you know?"
"Grandma emailed me." She walked out, posture perfect. At six.
Officer West stayed near the front door like a Roman statue and never blinked. His partner waited outside, near the elevator. Of the two, she was glad West was inside. The partner’s icy stare didn’t miss a thing.
Elle followed Margo to the china cabinet. They’d ordered venetian blue serving dishes but decided to use the white china plates. "How many place settings do we need?"
Tempting Navid Page 6