by Terri Reed
He threaded his fingers through Ariel’s. “Until we know otherwise, we have to operate on the premise that she is armed and dangerous.”
“Maybe you do.” She tugged her hand from his. “But I don’t.”
Her loyalty to her friend was admirable. And he found himself yearning for Ariel to have that same sort of faith and confidence in him. Maybe he wasn’t so very different from his father. And that was a terrifying revelation.
ELEVEN
Hunter climbed out of the SUV and rounded the vehicle to offer Ariel his arm. She hesitated. Was she so angry with him for doing his job that she’d refuse his help?
Her gaze softened and she reached for him. He blew out a relieved breath.
Thankfully, the parking lot and sidewalk had all been plowed so she didn’t have to traipse through the snow in her heels to the door. Then he released Juneau and leashed him up, and together they escorted her inside.
The banquet hall was noisy and crowded as they entered. They handed off their coats to the young girl at the coat check. Hunter noted that several different booths with vendors were set up in the outer lobby.
“Do you want to look at anything?” he asked Ariel.
She shook her head. “Not tonight. The vendors will all be at the race this coming weekend.”
He refrained from commenting about the race.
When they stepped into the hall, a bright spotlight was suddenly placed on them. For a split second, all conversations dimmed. All heads turned toward them.
Ariel tightened her hold on his arm and whispered, “This way.”
Scanning the crowd, Hunter let her lead him, weaving through the large round tables toward a table at the front of the room by the stage. A podium had been set up with a microphone, and right behind it was a hand-painted wooden backdrop depicting a beautiful winter landscape of the Iditarod.
People called out hellos to Ariel, and she responded with a gracious smile and acknowledgment of the speaker by name.
A woman with short, curly red hair and dark brown eyes stepped in front of them. She wore a slinky emerald-green dress, and the color reminded Hunter of Ariel’s college sweatshirt logo and how cute she’d looked wearing her school colors.
“Ariel, who is your handsome date?” The redhead eyed him with an appreciative gleam in her eyes.
Beside him, Ariel stiffened. “Carly, nice to see you again.”
“Likewise,” she said, but her eyes were on Hunter. “Carly Winters. And you are...?”
“Ariel’s date,” he said. “Excuse us.”
They skirted around the woman, only to be stopped again by a stout, balding man. He grasped Ariel’s hand in his. “Miss Potter, we are so glad you’re here. We were starting to think maybe you weren’t going to come.”
The veiled chastisement for being late wasn’t lost on Hunter, nor apparently on Ariel, judging from her grimace. She extracted her hand. “I am so sorry, George. My parents called just as we were headed out the door.”
The man’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Ah.” Apparently just invoking her parents’ names was enough to explain away her tardiness. Her parents really must be something within the dog sled racing circles.
George’s gaze turned to Hunter and then to Juneau. “I didn’t realize you were bringing guests.”
“I signed up for a plus one,” Ariel explained.
Waving a hand, George said, “We figured that would have been Miss James, but since—well—” He waved his hand again as if to swat away a fly.
The hurt on Ariel’s face ignited a low burn of anger in Hunter. He didn’t like to see her upset. Or the fact that the world already considered Violet guilty. Only the results of their investigation would prove one way or the other. And they didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet.
“We will add another chair next to yours,” George assured her with a pat on Ariel’s arm.
Hunter narrowed his gaze on the man. “Are you the event director?”
“No, that would be Willa and David Ford,” George said. “They are around here somewhere.”
“I’d like to speak to them.”
George gave him a tight smile. “I’ll send them over. This way to your table.”
Hunter stayed close to Ariel as they continued to weave through the crowded tables to one with a single empty seat. Hunter sensed Ariel’s agitation as they waited for another chair to be brought to the table.
Pasting on a smile, she greeted the other six people sitting there and introduced Hunter and Juneau. He held out the chair for Ariel to sit, then took the seat beside her while the dog settled between their chairs. Juneau crossed his paws and rested his chin on them. Hunter knew the canine was not resting but watching. He trusted Juneau to have his back at all times. And now his partner would have Ariel’s, as well.
Hunter leaned close to Ariel. “What’s up with your parents?”
She unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap. Bending toward him, she turned to speak into his ear, her soft breath tickling his skin. “What do you mean?”
Hunter glanced up to see if anybody was paying attention. Everyone had gone back to their own conversations. “I got the impression their call threw you into a little emotional chaos. And all you had to do was tell George your parents called, making us late, and all is forgiven? What gives?”
She leaned far enough away to meet his gaze. “Can we talk about this later?”
Her eyes held a plea and he couldn’t refuse. He straightened. “Of course. But I’ll hold you to that.” He reached for his water goblet and took a drink.
Ariel did the same. She held her glass in front of her lips. “I have no doubt you will.”
* * *
Ariel could barely choke down the deliciously prepared meal. Normally she liked these banquets because the catering company was stellar. But making small talk wasn’t something Ariel enjoyed. She’d spent too much time alone as a kid with only the dogs as companions or later with a very small, select group of friends whom she was comfortable around. Most of her friends had either married or moved away. Violet would have been the last to get married. Ariel’s heart ached. There would be no wedding to celebrate this coming weekend.
She was thankful that Hunter was adept at drawing out the other people at the table, though she speculated he was interrogating them with all his questions. If he was, he was very good at it. And when Willa and David Ford stopped by the table, Hunter stepped away to talk to the couple. She watched them until her gaze snagged on one of the catering staff. Surprise curdled her stomach. Jason, her ex-boyfriend? The man entered the kitchen and she shook her head, sure she was mistaken.
When Hunter returned to the table, his mouth was set in a grim line.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
He leaned to whisper in her ear, setting off a swarm of butterflies dancing a frantic jig in Ariel’s stomach. She liked the way his aftershave mingled with his warm masculine scent. “Not as much security as I’d hoped.”
“Are you worried?” Her nerves stretched taut, squashing the butterflies and making her limbs feel heavy. She doubted she could stand, let alone walk, even though she knew that very soon she was going to have to do both to accept her award.
“Irritated more than anything,” he replied.
Hoping to calm her anxiety, she took the prepared speech from her handbag and looked it over.
Hunter stretched, putting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers resting lightly on her biceps. Hot little spots of sensation fizzled her brain. The words on the page blurred.
Leaning in close, he murmured, “You’re going to do fine.”
She turned her head toward him and found herself not even an inch away from him. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and then back to his piercing blue eyes. A yearning she hadn’t expected gripped her. She wanted him to kiss her.
Having his support meant the world to her.
Yet a tiny jaded voice inside her head mocked her. Don’t rely on this man. He’ll only let you down as others in your life have.
Besides, Hunter scoffed at love. And she wanted to believe that love was possible with the right person. She could only pray that God would reveal that person in time.
She shifted away from him, putting space between them. “It’s easy for you to say. These people are not your peers. I’m going to make a fool of myself.” Nervous tremors raced over her limbs.
His hand squeezed her shoulder. “No, not at all.” He grinned. “Picture them all wearing party hats. I hear that works.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll have a hard time concentrating.”
He chuckled. “Then just focus on me. I’m here for you, Ariel. I’m not going anywhere.”
She swallowed as his words burrowed deep inside her, creating a longing that burst through her like a star erupting in the night sky. She didn’t have anyone who was truly there for her. And while she trusted Hunter to keep her safe, could she trust him with her heart?
Unsure of the answer and horribly afraid to find out, Ariel turned to face the front stage as the award ceremony began. The first few awards were for the local mushers who had finished in the Iditarod.
As the seconds ticked by, Ariel grew more antsy. Her foot jiggled under the table. Juneau sat up and put his paw on her leg as if hoping to calm her agitation. Her heart melted. Dogs she could count on—they never broke promises or judged her and found her lacking. She reached down and ruffled Juneau’s fur, taking comfort in the canine’s presence.
Then they were announcing her name. Queasy with anxiety, she swallowed a gulp of cool water and laid her napkin aside to stand. Hunter’s warm hand cupped her elbow, helping her to her feet. She gave him a grateful smile, fully expecting him to let go, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked her up the stairs to the stage, making her feel cared for and special. She almost grabbed him to keep him at her side when he retraced his steps and took a position at the bottom of the short staircase, leaving her alone on stage.
With an inward groan, she chastised herself. This was all a sham. He was only in her life temporarily, doing his job. He wasn’t her date, her boyfriend or even her friend. But her heart didn’t want to believe that what they had between them was only about his job and the attempts on her life. Her heart wanted to connect to him, to bond and meld like a real couple. Once again, her desire to find Mr. Right reared, fierce and demanding. She squelched it. Hunter was not her Mr. Right.
But maybe for this moment, she needed to hang on to these feelings of being cherished, so that she could get through this speech without embarrassing herself. Then she would deal with the fact that she was letting herself get too attached to Hunter.
She stepped up to the podium and looked out on the sea of familiar faces. Yes, there were a few she didn’t recognize, and it suddenly occurred to her maybe one of these people wanted her dead. She was certain, deep in her soul, that it hadn’t been Violet James who had pushed her off that ledge, who had tried to strangle her and steal her dog. It could have been someone in this very room.
Panic sluiced through her veins. Her gaze jumped to Hunter. His reassuring smile and nod bolstered her courage. She could do this. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Her hands shook as she unfolded her speech. Juneau had moved to the bottom of the staircase beside Hunter. Ariel’s gaze went to Hunter, and she mouthed Juneau and motioned for the dog to join her. Hunter’s nod made her very happy. He whispered something to Juneau and the dog climbed the stairs and strode across the stage to stop next to Ariel, leaning into her side, offering her support. Her nerves calmed and she began to read her speech.
* * *
Hunter was so proud of how poised and articulate Ariel was as she humbly thanked the many people who had encouraged and supported her breeding business. She talked about the dogs from her kennel that had placed in the Iditarod and various other races throughout the last year, giving funny anecdotes about each of them. The room was warm and receptive to her. Hunter was glad to see her fear of embarrassing herself had only been pre-speech jitters. She had the audience enthralled.
A low, out-of-place noise underscored Ariel’s voice. It took Hunter a moment to realize Juneau was growling deep in his throat. The dog had turned to face the wooden backdrop.
The hairs at Hunter’s nape quivered with apprehension. He stepped up the first stair just as a sharp cracking sound jolted through the room. Juneau howled frantically, and then his teeth sank into Ariel’s dress. The dog backed up, trying to drag her away from the podium.
Alarmed, Hunter bolted onto the stage. He wrapped an arm around Ariel, drawing her close to his chest, then took a step toward the stairs.
The backdrop collapsed, falling forward.
With Ariel in his arms, Hunter dove off the stage, landing with a thud on the floor between the tables. Juneau jumped clear as the backdrop crushed the podium where Ariel had been standing. Splinters of wood and debris rained down on Hunter’s back as he covered Ariel, protecting her head.
There were gasps and screams as people scrambled out of the way. Hunter lifted his head, smacking it on the very tip of the backdrop. He winced, then whispered into Ariel’s ear, “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” came her muffled reply. “What about Juneau?”
He rolled to the side to find Juneau standing guard, baring his teeth at anyone who tried to come close. “He’s good.”
Gathering her to his chest, Hunter said, “We’re going to scoot sideways until we’re out from under this chunk of wood.”
She nodded. Together they shimmied free. He stood and helped her to her feet. She leaned heavily into him.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
Her hands flexed on his arms in response.
He looked around, searching for the three security guards who had been hired to protect the venue. Several seconds passed before he spotted two of the men wearing black long-sleeve T-shirts helping the guests closest to the stage and assessing injuries.
The third security guard hustled out from the back of the stage.
Hunter reached into the breast pocket of his tux and pulled out his badge, showing it to the guard. “What happened? Why did the backdrop collapse?”
The guard, a tall, muscle-bound man with blond hair in a man bun, said, “The backdrop’s wooden supports had been rigged with small explosive devices. It looks like it had a remote receiver.”
Hunter’s gut twisted and a burning anger ignited his blood. Someone in the room had triggered the devices to go off while Ariel was onstage.
Not an accident. Another attempt had been made on her life.
He sent up a prayer of thanksgiving that Juneau had sensed the threat and gave a warning. It had been a close call. If Ariel had been standing there a few seconds longer, she would have been crushed along with the podium. The killer was getting bold.
“Call Metro PD. Don’t let anyone leave. I’m going to take Miss Potter to a safe location. I want you to search this whole building for that receiver. Start interviewing everyone. See if anybody remembers seeing somebody behind the stage who wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“On it.” The security guard moved away with a phone in his hand.
Hunter helped Ariel toward the exit and realized she was wincing with each step on her right foot. He stopped. “You’re hurt.” Why hadn’t she said anything?
“My ankle,” she ground out.
He had her take a seat in the nearest available chair, then squatted down and lifted the hem of her dress to see that her ankle was swelling, the straps of her sandal pressing into her flesh. “We have to get that looked at.”
He helped her to her feet, then swept her into his arms.
“Hey,” she gasped, clutching his shoulde
rs. “I can make it on my own.”
“Not on my watch,” he said. “We’re going to the hospital. We have to make sure you didn’t break your ankle.”
She groaned. “I don’t want to go back to the hospital. And neither do you. Can we just wait until tomorrow morning and I can go to my regular doctor at his clinic?”
“No,” he said. “I’ll be with you the whole way. We’ll get through this together.” A promise he intended to keep.
For a moment, she held his gaze, then nodded. “Hang on. I need my purse!”
Someone handed it to her. She murmured a thank-you and rested her cheek against Hunter’s neck. Her vanilla scent teased his nostrils. He inhaled deeply. Something inside him shifted, and tenderness flooded his system. He liked having her in his arms. But the circumstances that had put her there twisted his chest into knots. He tightened his hold, wanting to take her pain away. To protect her for the rest of his life.
And that was almost as distressing as knowing he’d nearly failed to keep her safe tonight.
After retrieving their coats at the coat check, he carried her to the SUV and set her on the seat, tucking her dress and coat around her. Then he grabbed the seat belt and drew it across her lap, jamming it into the buckle. He paused as they were face-to-face. In the interior dome light he could see her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.
“You’re safe,” he told her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She lifted a hand to cup his jaw. “I believe you. I believe in you.”
His breath stalled in his chest. Ariel’s words wound around him like a climbing strap around a tree, securing him to her in a way very little else could. Her faith in him was like an elixir to his jaded heart.
It would just take a slight movement for him to kiss her lush pink lips. Everything inside him wanted to give in to the attraction he’d been trying to ignore.
But she was fragile right now. Vulnerable. And he wouldn’t take advantage of her. If he kissed her, he wanted her fully on board.