by Maya Banks
“You must be mistaken,” she said to Reynolds. “I’m not meeting Theron today. I’m going shopping for my apartment.”
Reynolds checked his watch and then looked up as a sleek, silver Mercedes vehicle pulled up and stopped just a few feet from where they stood.
To her never-ending surprise, Theron stepped from the car and strode in her direction. As he drew abreast of her, he pulled his sunglasses off and slipped them into the pocket of his polo shirt.
He reached for her hand, his fingers curling firmly around hers. Then he turned to Reynolds. “Is there a problem?” he asked with a frown.
Reynolds gave a quick shake of his head. “Ms. Caplan was about to leave in a cab. I was in the process of explaining to her why she couldn’t.”
Theron nodded his approval and then turned back to look at Isabella. “It’s important that you heed my instructions, pethi mou. The arrangements I have made are for your well-being and safety.”
“Of course,” she murmured. “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you’re here to see Alannis.” She glanced over at Reynolds. “Will you call for the car since I’m not allowed in a taxi?”
Theron raised one eyebrow. “A few days ago, you wanted me to accompany you. Have you changed your mind?”
Confusion crowded her mind, and she scrunched up her brow as she stared up at him. “I assumed that since you have guests here, that you wouldn’t have time to go with me.”
“Ah, but you’re my guest, too,” he said as he pulled her hand. He guided her toward the still-waiting Mercedes and gestured for her to get into the back. Then he spoke to Reynolds over the door. “You’re excused until we return. My team will handle her security.”
Isabella scooted over and settled into the comfortable leather seat. Theron ducked in and sat down next to her. As the driver pulled away, Isabella shook her head and smiled ruefully.
“When was the last time you didn’t get your way about something?”
He gave her a puzzled look.
“And why all the security?” she asked in exasperation. “It seems a little pretentious.”
His face immediately darkened. “Before they were married, Chrysander’s wife was abducted and held for ransom. She was pregnant at the time. Her kidnappers have never been apprehended. I take no chances with the safety of those under my care.”
“How are Chrysander and his wife?” she asked softly.
“They are well. Marley prefers the island so they stay there. Chrysander occasionally leaves for business purposes but he doesn’t leave Marley or their son very often.”
“I can’t imagine Chrysander so in love,” she said with a laugh. “He seems so intimidating.”
“You obviously don’t feel the same about me,” Theron said dryly.
She let her gaze wander slowly up his body until she stared into his eyes. “The way I feel about you in no way compares to how I feel around Chrysander.”
There was a surge in his expression, an awareness that he fought. Such conflicting emotions shooting across his face. Before he could respond to her enigmatic statement, she turned to look out the window.
“So what made you come along this morning?” she asked cheerfully.
Though she was no longer facing him, she could feel his every move. She could feel him breathe, so tuned into his body was she.
“I would have thought you’d be far too busy with work and entertaining your...guests.”
“I’m not too busy to renege on a promise I made,” he said. “I told you I’d go shopping with you and here I am.”
She turned then and smiled. “I’m glad. Thank you.”
They spent the morning going down the list of items she wanted for her apartment. Theron seemed appreciative of the fact that she didn’t take forever making her selections. But the fact was, she didn’t really labor over furniture styles because if things went the way she wanted, then she wouldn’t be staying in the apartment long term. And if they didn’t go her way, she wasn’t going to stick around New York City only to watch Theron with another woman.
By two in the afternoon, she was tired and hungry and told Theron so. He suggested they eat at the hotel again. She was thrilled that he didn’t seem intent on rushing back to Alannis as soon as the shopping was done.
When they got back to the hotel, they were met by Reynolds who told Theron he and the others would stand by in the restaurant while they ate. Already, she was growing used to the small entourage of people who followed Theron wherever he went.
If he was this protective over someone he deemed “under his care,” then how much more so would he be when it came to someone he loved?
She smiled dreamily as they were escorted to Theron’s table. She could handle his overprotective tendencies if it meant he loved her.
“You look well pleased with yourself, pethi mou.”
Theron’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Are you happy with your purchases?”
She nodded and smiled. “Thank you for going with me.”
“It was my pleasure. You shouldn’t be alone in such an unfamiliar place.”
After placing their orders, Theron sat back in his seat, glass of wine in hand and stared over the table at her.
“So tell me, Bella. Why New York? Did you not have friends in California you preferred to stay close to? And have you given more thought to what you will do now that you’ve graduated from university?”
She smiled patiently. “My indecision must drive someone such as yourself insane, but I really do have a well-thought-out plan for my future.”
“Such as myself?” he asked. “Dare I ask what that’s supposed to mean?”
“Just that I imagine your life is planned out to the nth degree and that you have no patience for people who aren’t as organized as you. Am I right?” she asked mischievously.
He struggled with a scowl before finally relaxing into a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with having one’s path planned out in advance.”
“No, there isn’t,” she agreed. “I have mine quite mapped out, however, things don’t always go according to plan. The real test is how you manage when your plans fall apart.”
“Very wise words coming from someone so young.”
She wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. “Do you keep reminding yourself of my age so that you aren’t tempted to do something outrageous like kiss me again?”
He blinked at her, his mouth falling open. Then he snapped it closed and his jaw tightened. “I thought we agreed to forget that ever happened.”
“I agreed to do no such thing,” she said lightly. “You can do as you like, however.”
He was saved from making his response when the waiter returned bearing their food. Isabella watched Theron all through the meal. His agitation was evident in his short, jerky motions as he dug into his food and ate. Several times he looked up and their gazes connected. There was such fire in his eyes. He wasn’t immune to her. Not by a long shot. If she had to guess, he was very affected.
She’d already shoved her plate aside when she heard Theron’s name called from a few tables away. She glanced over to see a handsome man approach their table. He was well dressed, he screamed wealth and refinement, and he looked at her with undisguised interest even though it was Theron’s name he spoke.
Theron looked less than pleased by the interruption, but it didn’t seem to bother the man who now stood at their table.
“Theron, it’s good to see you. I was happy to receive your invitation for Thursday night.”
He glanced over at Isabella as he spoke and she stared back, wondering if this was one of the men on Theron’s infamous potential husband list. She cocked her eyebrow in question but Theron ignored her.
“Are you coming?” Isabella spoke up, offering the man a bright smile. “
I have it on good authority that Theron is using Thursday’s little soiree to find me a husband.”
She grinned at the man’s look of surprise. Then he laughed while Theron scowled even harder.
“You must be Isabella Caplan. I’m Marcus Atwater, and yes, I’ll be attending. Now that I know my attendance puts me in the running, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Isabella smiled and extended her hand. “Please, call me Bella.”
Marcus took her hand but instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and kissed it.
“All right, Bella. A beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman.”
“Is there something you wanted, Marcus?” Theron asked pointedly.
His glare could melt steel, but Marcus didn’t seem to be too bothered—or intimidated.
Isabella sat back. Maybe Theron seeing another man openly flirt with her would bring out those protective instincts. Maybe, just maybe if he suddenly had a little competition...
“Nothing at all,” Marcus said congenially. “I saw you with a beautiful woman, and I merely wanted to make her acquaintance and see for myself if this was the mysterious Isabella Caplan, the same woman you were throwing the party for. I’m glad now that I came over.” He glanced back at Isabella again. “Save me a dance Thursday night?”
She smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
She watched him walk away before turning back to Theron. “So tell me, how did he rate among the other men you considered for my husband?”
Theron gave her a disgruntled look. “He’s toward the top,” he mumbled.
“Oh good, then you won’t mind if we spend time together at your cocktail party.”
“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “He would be a good choice. He’s successful, doesn’t have any debt, he’s never been married before, and he’s healthy.”
“Good God, tell me you didn’t hack into his medical records,” she said in disbelief.
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t suggest you marry a man who was in ill health or had defects that could be passed on to your children.”
He seemed affronted that she’d ask such a question.
She stifled her laughter and tried to look serious and appreciative. “So can I assume that any man at your party has been carefully screened and has your stamp of approval then?”
He nodded slowly but he didn’t look happy about the fact.
“Well then, this should be fun,” she said brightly. “A room full of wealthy, good-looking men to choose from.” She leaned forward and pretended to whisper conspiratorially. “Did you also find out if they were good in bed?”
Theron choked on his drink. He set it down and growled in a low voice, “Of course I didn’t question their sexual prowess.”
“Pity. I suppose I’ll have to find out myself before settling on one man in particular.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Theron snarled.
Her eyes widened innocently as she viewed his obvious irritation. He looked near to bursting a blood vessel.
His phone rang, and he looked relieved as he fumbled for it. After a few clipped sentences, he rang off and looked over at her.
“You’ll have to excuse me, but I have to go. I have an important meeting I can’t miss.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t mind me. I was going up to my suite anyway.”
Theron motioned for Reynolds and then rose from his chair.
“Your security detail will see you up to your suite. And Bella, don’t try to go anywhere without them.”
Chapter 8
Theron’s admonishment still rang in Isabella’s ears the next morning as she plotted her path past her security team. It wasn’t that she minded them going shopping with her. They might even be able to offer a male perspective on which dress looked best on her. She wanted to look good for the cocktail party, and not because of the men Theron had invited with her in mind.
As soon as she stepped out of her room, Reynolds fell into step behind her.
“Good morning,” she offered sweetly.
“Good morning,” he offered in return. “Where would you like to go this morning?” He pulled out his cell phone to call for the car.
“I want to do a little sightseeing,” she said. “I don’t know my way around the city very well, so I’ll have to rely on you.”
“What interests you?” he asked politely.
She pretended to think. “Museums, art galleries, oh, and I’d like to see the Statue of Liberty.”
He nodded even as he relayed her wishes to the driver.
The elevator opened into the lobby where they were joined by Davison and Maxwell. She halted in front of them, took one look and shook her head.
“Is there a problem?” Reynolds asked.
“Look, if you guys are going to shadow me, I’d prefer you didn’t look like something out of a mafia movie. Not to mention, I’d rather not broadcast the fact that I’m going around with three bodyguards. That will only make me more conspicuous.”
“What do you suggest then?” Maxwell muttered. He didn’t look entirely pleased with her assessment.
“Well, you could lose the shades. They make you look like Secret Service wannabes.”
Maxwell and Davison both removed the sunglasses, and Davison glared at her. She grinned in return.
“Now get rid of the tie and the jacket.”
All three men shook their heads. “The jackets stay.” Davison spoke up for the first time. To get his point across, he pulled the lapel, opening the jacket enough that she could see the pistol secured by a shoulder holster.
Her mouth fell open. She wasn’t a screaming ninny about guns. She well understood the need for them. She just hadn’t realized that Theron was that concerned over her safety. For a moment she wavered. Maybe breaking away wasn’t such a great idea. But then in her mind, having three hulking men made her much more noticeable than if she zipped to the department store and back for her dress.
“Okay, definitely leave the jackets,” she muttered.
They walked outside where the car had pulled around. Davison got into the front while Maxwell walked around to the opposite passenger door and climbed in. Reynolds opened the passenger door closest to her and waited for her to get in.
She faked exasperation and slapped her forehead with her open palm. “Wait right here. I forgot my purse,” she said.
“I’ll get it for you. You get in,” Reynolds said.
But she was already striding toward the hotel entrance. She turned back holding up a finger. “I won’t be a minute.”
Reynolds started after her, but she quickly rounded the corner and ducked into the men’s bathroom. He’d most definitely search the women’s room when he figured out she’d disappeared, but hopefully he wouldn’t think to look in the men’s.
She cracked the door just enough that she could look out. Reynolds hurried by and then he barked into a small receiver that hung from his shirt.
Seconds later, Maxwell and Davison ran by the bathroom, their faces grim. She slipped out with no hesitation and ran for the hotel entrance, hoping they didn’t look back in the time it took her to get to a taxi.
She slid into the cab at the front of the line and offered the driver double his fee if he got the hell out fast. Only too happy to comply, he peeled out of the entryway and rocketed in front of two other cars. Horns sounded and angry shouts filled the air but the driver shook his fist and then grinned.
“Where you going, miss?”
She glanced up to see him staring at her in the rearview mirror.
“I’m not completely sure,” she admitted. “I need a dress. A really gorgeous dress that’ll make a man drool at a hundred yards.”
“I know just the place,” he said, nodding his head.
<
br /> Not completely willing to forego any precautionary measures, she asked if he’d wait while she shopped, meter running of course.
He dropped her off in front of the upscale department store then gave her his cell number.
“Give me a ring when you’re checking out, and I’ll pull up and pick you up here,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said as she climbed out.
Making sure to keep in a clump of people, she entered the store. She wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to safety. She avoided corners, anything off the beaten path and stayed in plain sight of the security cameras. When it was time for her to try on her dresses, she had the extremely helpful saleslady accompany her to the dressing room. After all she needed an opinion.
After trying on six dresses, she found the one. It slipped over her body, hugging every curve like a second skin. The genius of the dress was in its simplicity. There weren’t any ruffles or frills, nothing to take away from the shape of her body. It was sheer with spaghetti straps, and it fell two inches above her knee. With a pair of killer heels, she’d have the men eating out of her hand.
She frowned as she realized it didn’t really matter what the other men did. Theron was the only one who mattered, and it was anyone’s guess how he would react.
She stepped out of the dressing room to show the saleslady. Her entire face lit up.
“It’s perfect, Ms. Caplan. Just perfect. With the right shoes, you’ll be a knockout.”
Isabella smiled. “Would you happen to have a pair of black shoes in a three-inch heel that would go well with this dress?”
The saleslady smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, Isabella twirled and glanced down her legs at the shoes. The heels were basically toothpicks, but they did look gorgeous on her.
Not content to sell her an outrageously expensive dress—the shoes were nearly as expensive—the saleslady also insisted she accessorize with just the right jewelry—and handbag of course.
Two hours after she’d ditched her security team, Isabella settled into her cab and headed back to the hotel. When they pulled up, she collected her bags and leaned up to pay the driver.