The Bride's Protector

by Gayle Wilson

  “Here,” he said, reaching into the closet and tossing a black baseball-style cap on the foot of the bed. A pair of mirrored sunglasses was already lying there. “Stuff your hair inside. Maybe with the glasses...” He shrugged.

  She nodded, grateful for the elements he had added to her disguise, neither of which would be out of place with her outfit. Actually, what she was wearing hadn’t looked all that ridiculous when she’d surveyed the finished product in the bathroom mirror.

  “I don’t know what to do with these,” she said, holding up the bridal garments.

  “Leave them,” he suggested.

  She almost smiled at his casual disposal of several thousand dollars worth of designer clothing. And she had thought about that, but if the wedding gown were found in his room, she would have tied him to her. Maybe put him in danger. Because then whoever was looking for her could find out his name.

  “I can’t,” she said, again trying to think of a reason he might believe. “They’re not mine,” she said finally.

  “Not yours?” he questioned, the hint of suspicion clear.

  “They belong to a friend.”

  “You borrowed a wedding dress?”

  Which was not all that unusual, she knew, but apparently he’d never heard of the practice. “Not exactly. It belongs to a designer friend. I wore it—” She almost said “as a favor,” which would be too revealing. Indicative of the fact that she was someone whose wedding would attract a lot of media attention.

  “To save money,” she amended.

  He nodded. Apparently that was something he understood.

  “And I promised to return it,” she added. “So I have to.”

  He seemed to be considering what to do about that, although they both knew the dress wouldn’t fit into the black bag, which seemed to be all the luggage he had with him. Finally he walked over to the closet and pulled out the plastic laundry sack the hotel provided, holding it out to her. She’d have to crush the dress to make it fit, but that was better than the alternative.

  She dropped the shoes into the bottom and, folding the veil, stuffed it in on top of them. The dress was a harder proposition, but by folding and pushing, she managed to get it in. She looked up when she’d finished, and he held out his hand for the sack.

  “You carry the duffel,” he suggested.

  He was probably right. It would be obvious that the black bag didn’t hold a wedding gown. Obvious to anyone who might be looking for one.

  She picked up the cap and stuffed her hair into it. Then she slipped on the sunglasses he’d thrown on the foot of the bed, hiding her eyes. Finally she slung the strap of the black bag across her left shoulder, positioning it comfortably on her back.

  There was nothing about her appearance that would attract attention. This kind of attire was almost a uniform for a certain segment of the urban young, and with her figure she could still pass for twenty-something. More importantly, she now looked as if she belonged with him. He was a man who would probably be attracted to a woman who would dress in this very casual way, even in the environs of this old and elegant downtown hotel.

  He also looked like a man who would be attractive to such a woman. Probably attractive to any woman, she admitted. He looked dangerous. Exciting. And undeniably sexy. Tyler was a little surprised by her own admission.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she agreed reluctantly, and watched him open the door.

  After he checked out the hall, he signaled for her to join him. The short walk to the elevator and the ride down were thankfully uneventful. Tyler kept her face turned down, the bill of the baseball cap he’d given her shadowing her features.

  Her nervousness didn’t seem to have rubbed off on her companion. He acted as if what they were doing was routine. There was nothing furtive about his manner, and no one who got on the elevator gave either of them a second glance.

  When the doors opened on the lobby, Tyler was aware from the volume of the noise that something was going on. For one thing, it was almost wall-to-wall people. She reached out and grabbed her escort’s arm, keeping her head bent and her eyes lowered. She intended to let him lead her past anyone who might be looking for her. However, they could barely push their way off the car. The way across the lobby was blocked by the crowd.

  There seemed to be a lot of noise coming from outside, too. The thrump of a helicopter circling overhead. Sirens. Tyler realized only now that she had heard those upstairs, but they were such a familiar background noise in this city that she hadn’t paid much attention to the distant wail. Only, the wails weren’t distant anymore. They were loud, really loud, because they all seemed to be converging on this building.

  “Something’s happened outside,” her companion said under his breath. Tyler raised her eyes and found he was looking toward the row of glass doors under the striped awnings at the front of the lobby. When she turned, she realized he was right.

  The sidewalk was crowded with people, including a lot of men in Middle Eastern garb and members of the media. There were also cops, uniformed and not. To someone who had lived in New York City as long as Tyler had, however, they were as obviously cops as if they’d been sporting badges.

  “What is it?” she asked, shaken by her growing realization of what had happened, still hoping somehow she was wrong.

  “Something out on the street,” he said. “But it seems connected with the hotel. They’re not letting anyone leave.”

  Her heart plummeted. Her fingers tightened convulsively on his arm, and he glanced down. She met his eyes, glad that the fear in hers would be hidden by the dark lenses. Glad that he wouldn’t be able to read what else was almost certain to be in them—knowledge of exactly what was going on outside and an immediate, sharp increase in her terror, which had begun to ease with his steady confidence.

  “What do we do?” she asked, desperate now to get out of here. She couldn’t change what had occurred. All she could do was try to protect herself.

  “See anybody you know?” her companion asked, his own eyes scanning the lobby.

  The men in Amir’s room? she wondered. And then her brain began to function. He meant the wedding party. Her gaze also circled the waiting throng, searching. He was right, she realized. No one was being allowed to leave the hotel.

  As a result the lobby was filled with angry people, suitcases beside them as they waited for permission to leave. Permission to catch their trains or planes. She wondered if anyone had taken time to explain to them what was going on.

  “By the far doors,” she said, recognizing a familiar figure in the sea of strangers. It was Susan Brooker, conspicuous because of the bridesmaid’s dress she wore. Susan’s attention was on whatever drama was unfolding outside the glass doors.

  Tyler also discovered that there were several of Amir’s men in the lobby, dark eyes searching the milling crowd. And she knew who they were looking for. “Can’t we go out the back?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, to control the surging panic.

  “I don’t think they’re letting anyone out. Not from any entrance. If they were, this mob would already be gone.”

  Of course they weren’t. She knew, even if he didn’t, what the cops were looking for. They were looking for an assassin. Searching for a murderer. Murderers, she amended. Murderers whose faces she had seen. For one split second, at least.

  And those men might be here in the lobby. Looking for someone who was the right height. The right build. The right—

  “Come on,” her companion ordered softly.

  He turned, pulling her with him since her fingers were still fastened in a death grip around his arm. He plowed politely, but with purpose, through the angry crowd. They had fought their way across the lobby before Tyler realized where he was headed.

  “Wait a minute,” she protested when he finally stopped at the door of the Grill Room, the most casual of the hotel’s five restaurants. Even if he thought they couldn’t get out, she wasn’t g
oing to sit down and eat.

  “I’m not going in there,” she said.

  “You want out of the hotel, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she agreed, wondering what he was planning.

  “Then come on,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Get us out,” he said simply.

  It sounded as if he thought he knew exactly how to do that. The calm surety was in his voice again, and because she didn’t know what else to do, Tyler followed him.

  The dark pub-style restaurant didn’t seem as affected by the commotion out front as the rest of the hotel. The waiters were still moving about, and there were a few people sitting at the tables, finishing brunch or talking over coffee.

  “Something in the back,” Tyler’s companion requested of the hostess. “And give us a few minutes alone before you send a waiter,” he added softly.

  The woman’s eyes assessed what she could see of Tyler’s face, hidden by the cap and dark glasses, and then came back to his. She smiled in understanding. “Right this way.”

  The table she led them to was about as far away from the hubbub out front as they could hope for, in a dark corner not far from swinging doors that apparently led to the kitchen. Tyler slipped into the chair that faced them, her back to the rest of the room. She slid the black bag off her shoulder as the hostess put down menus and left them alone. Tyler glanced up to find the blue-eyed man, watching her from across the table. His eyes, shadowed in the dimness, seemed cold again.

  “Anything you want to tell me?” he said, his voice too low for anyone else to hear.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  He had realized her need to get out of the hotel had something to do with what was going on out front. From there, it wasn’t too great a leap to arrive at the possibility that she might know something about what that was. But that was the key he was missing. He didn’t know what had happened to cause the excitement, so he couldn’t begin to guess what she’d seen.

  “That’s a hell of a lot of commotion for a runaway bride.”

  “That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” she denied.

  She hated to lie to him. She wasn’t good at lying, but it probably didn’t matter. He hadn’t believed anything she’d said from the beginning, and yet he’d still agreed to help her.

  His eyes were still trained on her face. “Eventually you’ll have to trust someone,” he warned softly.

  “I thought you were going to get us out of here,” she reminded him, ignoring the invitation to confide. But God, it was tempting. So damn tempting she had to lock her teeth into her tongue to keep the story in. He nodded, still studying her face, but thankfully he didn’t push it.

  “Distraction,” he said. “I’ll provide it and then you go. Your best shot is through that door.”

  He gestured to his left with a tilt of his head, not even looking in that direction. Apparently he had already checked everything out. Tyler turned to see what he meant. There was a set of double glass doors that led to a side street. Outside them, his back to the restaurant, stood a uniformed policeman.

  “There’s only one guy out there, and a lot of confusion,” her companion stated. “He’s not going to be able to handle everyone. And they’ll concentrate on the front.”

  “What are you going to do?” Nothing he was saying made much sense, although he acted as if it did.

  He ignored the question. “Don’t hesitate,” he ordered. “Just go. The first couple of minutes are crucial. When you get outside, mingle with the crowds. Go in whatever direction the most people seem to be headed. Get in the middle of the pack, and whatever you do, don’t look back. Just walk. Your normal stride. Head up. None of that eyes-on-the-ground crap you pulled in the lobby. When you’re a few blocks away, grab a cab or get on the subway.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked. She had thought they would go out together. He’d get a cab and drop her on his way to the airport. That had been the plan upstairs.

  “I’ll be heading in the opposite direction,” he said. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, just as they had before.

  “I don’t have any money,” she said.

  He stood, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans, and laid a few folded bills on the table beside her. She picked them up without looking at them and pushed them into the breast pocket of the shirt she was wearing.

  “You understand what you’re going to do?” he asked.

  She nodded, and then, compelled by what he was doing for her, she offered an explanation he couldn’t possibly understand, and probably didn’t really want to hear. “I didn’t have anything to do with what happened,” she whispered. “I told you the truth. I want you to know that. But...I saw them.”

  Despite her previous intention not to involve him any more than was necessary in her danger, she hadn’t been able to resist adding the last. It was an opening if he wanted to take it. Not exactly a request for his help, but an admission that there was more to this than she’d told him. You’ll have to trust somebody, he had said. Apparently she had chosen to trust him, and she waited for his reaction.

  The blue eyes rested on her face a moment, but he made no verbal response. Finally he stepped across the space that separated them and put the plastic laundry sack stuffed with the wedding dress beside her chair.

  Without straightening, he gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in, and then he leaned down—slowly, his eyes still examining her face. Tyler realized she was closer to him than she had ever been before, close enough that she could smell the hotel’s soap and shampoo, the same subtle scents that had dominated the steamy bathroom upstairs.

  There was something totally different, however, about the current effect of those aromas. Because now they were emanating from a strongly masculine body in very close proximity to hers.

  She honestly had no idea what he intended, but she was fascinated enough that she didn’t move, didn’t even think about protecting his unexpected nearness. Maybe, she thought, there were some last-minute instructions he didn’t want to chance anyone else overhearing.

  His head began to lower. She watched, almost mesmerized, as his mouth opened, tilting to align itself to fit over hers. Only then did she realize what was about to happen.

  His lips were warm. Despite the fact that they appeared hard and thin, they were unbelievably soft, lingering a heartbeat over hers before they applied pressure. When they did, the sensation was incredibly sensuous.

  It created an anticipation she hadn’t felt in too many years. The feelings that suddenly flooded her body had almost been forgotten—the same expectation she had felt before all the firsts in her life, so intense this time it was frightening. She had never felt anything like this when Amir kissed her. Or anyone else, she acknowledged, surprised by that realization.

  After only a few seconds, his tongue pushed into her mouth, seeking contact with hers. Later she would wonder if, in that small hesitation, he had deliberately given her an opportunity to deny him. And when she didn’t take it...couldn’t take it...

  His kiss was expert. And thorough. She had been kissed by a lot of men, but never by one who was so ruthlessly in control of what was happening. Or so sensually dominant. His hands never left the arms of her chair. His body was not making contact with hers, but his mouth ravaged until there was nothing left for her to do but respond. Respond with all the emotions that were surging through her. That was automatic. Unthinking. It was as if she had been unconsciously considering the possibility of this man kissing her the entire time she’d known him. Preparing for it.

  And she wasn’t ready for the kiss to be over when his head finally lifted away, the dampness his mouth had left on hers causing her lips to cling to his a second, as if they, too, were reluctant for this to be over.

  In unspoken protest of his desertion, she put the fingers of her left hand against his cheek, almost desperate to hold on to him in some way. His skin was freshly shaved, b
ut still rough under her fingertips. Completely and obviously masculine.

  The blue eyes looking down into hers were unfathomable—not cold and yet not filled with the same searing heat of desire she had briefly been allowed to see before. They seemed almost questioning. As if he were as disconcerted by what had just happened between them as she was?

  Slowly her thumb traced across his bottom lip, touching the gleam of moisture her tongue had left. She wanted his mouth over hers again. She was hoping his head would lower as it had before. Hoping...

  Instead, abruptly breaking the spell he’d created, he straightened his elbows, lifting his body away from hers in one smooth progression and releasing the arms of her chair. Almost in the same motion, he turned and picked up the duffel bag at her side.

  He slung it over his shoulder, and then, without looking at her again, he walked unhurriedly toward the doors that led to the kitchen. He pushed through them as if he had the right.

  She watched him disappear, still disoriented by the unexpected kiss. By the depth of the feelings it had aroused. Need. Loneliness. Desire. And a hunger she hadn’t even been aware existed until he had tantalizingly answered it.

  Gradually, she began to think again, to wonder what would happen next. He hadn’t told her what to expect. She had no idea what—

  Even considering what he had told her, she hadn’t been expecting the noise that erupted, and it took a second for her brain to register its meaning. But if she hadn’t, the people rushing out of the kitchen would have given her all the information she needed.

  From the first shout of “Fire,” people in the restaurant began to respond. That warning, along with the alarm, was too much to ignore. Or else the shouted word broke the paralysis that the unexpected volume of the fire alarm had caused.

  Tyler picked up the plastic bag, remembering her instructions. The first minutes would be crucial, he’d said. Because this was unexpected, of course. Even for the cops. There weren’t that many people in the restaurant to begin with, but panicked, they made quite a crowd trying to push their way out that side entrance. Too many for the single cop to restrain, even if he’d had the presence of mind to