Possessed by a Warrior

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Possessed by a Warrior Page 9

by Sharon Ashwood


  A math conference? On her honeymoon? “And Leo?”

  “He likes the beach.” Elaine smiled, and there was a hint of mischief there. “We’ll lie in the sun and pretend we’re not going home ever again. After so many years in school and then working toward a tenured position, I’m not sure I remember what sun looks like.”

  Chloe heard Sam stir and realized he was standing by the door. “Lying on the beach sounds fabulous.”

  “I’m overdue. Leo is, too. He’s put in a lot of eighty-hour weeks lately.” Elaine looked around at the putty-colored walls. “So this place is some kind of military thing?”

  “No, it was my uncle’s private security firm.” Chloe smiled apologetically. “I borrowed the space for today. The atmosphere is a bit more severe than my own offices.”

  Elaine’s eyes softened at the mention of Jack. “It really was good of you to meet with me today given everything going on in your life.”

  “Thank you, but it’s okay. As I said, weddings are something to look forward to. This will cheer me up.”

  “As long as you’re sure.” Elaine murmured, her gaze lingering apprehensively on Sam. He was standing with his arms folded, a perfectly neutral expression around the black lenses of his shades. He looked like a man in need of a martini—shaken, not stirred—or a kneecap to break. “Does he come with the place?”

  “Sam, uh, provides advice on security arrangements for my wedding guests,” Chloe improvised. “You know, when there are celebrities.”

  “Really?” Elaine raised an eyebrow. “Pity the paparazzi.”

  “Never,” Sam said in a voice like the slamming of a tomb door.

  It was only one word, but it left a chill on Chloe’s skin. Elaine paled and set down her salad, still half uneaten.

  Chloe seized the moment and began fanning out brochures. “Now, we have your guest list, which is great. Then, whether we’re talking indoor or outdoor venues...”

  They spent the next fifteen minutes going through the pros and cons of half a dozen sites. She’d found the places with an opening on the right date and put the trendiest sites at the top of the pile.

  “I love the look of Philip’s,” Elaine said, folding out the brochure for the oceanfront dance club. More bohemian than most of the places Chloe had queried, it had an “it” factor that put it in very high demand. “Can’t you see the reception here? There’s a huge dance floor, and look at the views.”

  Chloe heard a note of longing that said Elaine was far gone in her fantasy, even before they’d visited the place. “It has a more relaxed atmosphere than many venues of its size.”

  “I know. I’m sure my mom will hate it.”

  “She has more traditional tastes.”

  “I know.” Elaine made a face. “It’s all white linen and tiaras. No way she’d go for, say, a theme park or waterslides.”

  Chloe caught the remark. Waterslides. This was the sort of information she’d been waiting for. As usual, it was hiding in an offhand remark. “Do you like water sports?”

  Elaine smiled ruefully. “I want to have fun. I don’t mind the whole princess bridal fantasy thing Mom’s after, but I wish we could have foam rubber swords and a toy dragon to go with it. Maybe soaker guns. I think hard enough at work. A wedding should be a party.”

  “Why not go for it?” Chloe said.

  Elaine shrugged. “There’s my mom and six hundred of her nearest and dearest to consider.”

  She picked up a brochure for the golf club. “If I’m honest with myself, this is way more boring but much more appropriate. It’s bigger and the parking would be better. And look, there are luxury guest suites right on-site.”

  Chloe could see the struggle between “want” and “should” in Elaine’s eyes. It was her job to find a way her bride could have the best of both. “But...”

  “Both Philip’s and the club are outdoor venues. I would advise an indoor function,” Sam put in, his voice still the monotone he seemed to use when in his bodyguard persona. “But, if you must be outside, the golf club is superior.”

  Chloe was startled. Since when are you the wedding expert? “What makes you say that?”

  Sam turned in Elaine’s direction, inscrutable behind his sunglasses. “I assume most of those on the guest list could be considered affluent?”

  “Yes.” Elaine’s brow furrowed. “Some are highly placed executives with international corporations. Mom thought the club would be good because many of them play golf.”

  “It is also less exposed to the public. Philip’s wine bar reception area backs onto the esplanade. Although the event would be roped off, it is hard to limit access to the public and, with them, pickpockets, unauthorized photographers and drive-by gunmen.”

  “Drive-by gunmen!” Elaine exclaimed, her eyes round and huge. “What are you talking about?”

  Chloe sensed her client growing increasingly tense. She touched Elaine’s arm gently. “It’s just a worst-case scenario.”

  “I don’t do worst-case,” Elaine said sharply. “I do mathematics, the more abstract the better. Nobody is going to shoot anybody at my wedding, okay?”

  “Of course not.” Chloe couldn’t resist aiming a furious look at her soon-to-be-ex bodyguard. “Why don’t we talk about the church for a while? There are no security risks in the church.”

  Sam opened his mouth, but must have caught her eye. He closed it again.

  “My grandmother is going to be there, you know.” Elaine was staring at Sam again with the look of a cornered rabbit. Chloe could almost see her nose twitching with anxiety. This is a freaking disaster.

  “We’ll take every precaution,” Sam said helpfully.

  Great. Now even Chloe was imagining mobster-movie massacres.

  The door flew open, making everyone except Sam jump.

  A man in a security uniform thrust a vase of flowers at Sam. The man gave a smart salute, wheeled and made his exit, pulling the door shut as he left.

  An awkward silence hung in the room. Sam neatly positioned the vase on the conference table and retreated to his patch of wall. For a moment it was so quiet that Chloe could almost hear the dust settling on the industrial gray carpet.

  Chloe studied the flowers, trying to understand exactly why no one was talking. The lovely bouquet of roses and baby’s breath looked utterly out of place. It underscored how completely she’d wandered into the wrong world—Sam’s world, where putty-gray walls were normal and of course you considered whether people could drive by and murder your guests. You’d be an inconsiderate host if you skipped that little detail.

  No, this wasn’t the safe, sunny fairyland Chloe conjured for her brides. She wasn’t mistress of this realm. Her wedding fantasy magic wasn’t effective here at all, and her client could feel it. Elaine looked, well, appalled. Bridal fail.

  She cleared her throat and looked at her watch. “Uh, Chloe, I’m afraid I’ve got a class to teach. I have to go.”

  She heard the lie in Elaine’s voice and couldn’t even blame her. “I completely understand. Why don’t I call you later to go over a few details? We are very, very short of time.”

  The woman nodded quickly, gathered her things and nearly bolted from the room. Sam let her out, locking the door after she left. Finally, in the windowless waiting room, he pulled off his shades. Chloe watched him, catching what might have been a disappointed sigh.

  “She’s not coming back, is she?”

  “I don’t know,” she said bluntly, giving vent to a tiny burst of anger. It was a mere puff of smoke from the volcano she could feel brewing underneath. “I always address security issues, but I’m very careful how I handle it. Brides are typically stressed, always imagining the worst things are going to happen. In fact, they’re usually a little bit crazy. I have to make them relax and believe their day will be happy and per
fect.”

  His face tightened. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  You should have listened to me. You should have let me use the nice offices. But...what could she do now? Water under the bridge.

  A raging torrent sweeping my career under the waves and about to knock over said bridge. Chloe took a long breath, fighting for her poise. Surely I can fix this. They’ve only got two months. They need me.

  Or I could just grab one of these weapons out of Uncle Jack’s display cases and thump Sam over the head with it!

  The slight slump of Sam’s shoulders said more about his distress than a litany of excuses. He rubbed his forehead. “I’m very sorry. I’m not good with the hearts and flowers. It’s just not in me. To be honest, I’m a monster.”

  Chloe caught her breath, recognizing the raw honesty beneath the words. Wow. That’s how he sees himself. A monster. “No, you’re not.”

  Most people passed her over without ever sharing that much truth. Few guys had the honesty to face their own shortcomings. Maybe there was more to him than she had assumed.

  He quirked a quizzical eyebrow. “You’re going to argue about this?”

  For a moment, she actually felt sorry for him. “Monsters don’t care. You got the flowers. You found a safe place. You listened to what Elaine was planning and gave her the benefit of your experience. I can tell that you care.”

  Regret flickered through his eyes, followed by a deeper sadness. There was more here than Elaine and an ugly office. The whole monster comment resonated far beyond today’s problems. Something had happened that had made him doubt himself, and she knew with every instinct that would be unbearable for a man like Sam Ralston. What on earth had happened? But he spoke again before she could chase that thought any further.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “If I’d found a better place...”

  She sliced a hand through the air, on the edge of too much emotion. “It’s not up to you to anticipate absolutely everything. Sure, I know you’re the guy with the gun who’s going to save the planet, but you don’t know my business like I do.”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it, head tilting as his eyes searched her face. He was looking at her, really looking at her, as if she were the newest wonder of the world.

  She couldn’t wipe away the smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks for being more than just a suit with a sidearm. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me about the kind of office I need for my clients?”

  He nodded. “You know your business. Got it.”

  “Fair enough.” Chloe raised up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. His skin was cool but already roughening with the shadow of his beard.

  “Don’t.” The word cut through the air.

  Faster than she could follow, he turned to her, grasping both her arms with his large, square hands. He wasn’t hurting her, but there was no way she was going anywhere. Faint color rose to his face, his steel-gray eyes wide and intense.

  She grabbed a surprised breath. If she’d wanted honesty, it was there in his gaze. He wanted her, no question. The idea of it hit her bloodstream like strong liquor. “Don’t?”

  “Kissing me might be a door you don’t want to open.”

  And yet, he’d kissed her. Or her hand. Twice. And perhaps she did want to open that door. If he could be vulnerable, maybe it was worth getting to know him after all. “Oh?”

  The single syllable seemed to rob him of his will. “Chloe, be careful what you start. I’m the one in the shadows, remember?”

  “No, you’re my shadow. There’s a difference.” Chloe raised her hands, breaking his hold. He didn’t resist, or try to stop her when she rested her hands on his shoulders. Automatically, he reached for her waist, almost as if they meant to dance.

  Perhaps they did. As if by unspoken consent, he bent down and she reached up, their lips meeting at a perfect midpoint.

  His lips were softer than she expected, as if every part of Sam Ralston capable of tenderness had been distilled for the purpose of kissing. An electric current seemed to rise from beneath the soles of Chloe’s feet and rush to her head, leaving her dizzy but connected with some primal, earthy power. She leaned into him, relishing the hardness of his muscles beneath the crisp white shirt. He smelled of soap and man and something darkly spicy she couldn’t place. Not cologne, but some element of him that was unique.

  Her heart sped as Sam pulled her closer, his strong grip against her back. She ran her fingers around the back of his neck, burrowing through his thick, dark hair. It was like silk. Another softness she hadn’t expected.

  She opened her mouth to him, tasting as they explored each other. His mouth trailed down her jaw to her collarbone, his breath coming soft in a sigh that was all lust. She nearly crumbled where she stood, burned to ash by the searing heat of sensation.

  “Sam,” she whispered. She had no idea what she’d say next. She was lost in the moment and loving it.

  But he pulled away. She looked up into his face and saw her own desires reflected in the drowning darkness of his eyes. And then, slowly, his fascination sank into regret.

  “This isn’t the time or place,” he murmured, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Before you ask why not, there are surveillance cameras everywhere in here.”

  Chloe froze. Slowly, her fingers rose to check her buttons. Mercifully, he’d left them all in place. She fell back a step, putting air between them. She didn’t know what to say.

  When would be the right time and place? Her whole body ached to ask the question, but who was listening? A building full of her uncle’s security guys?

  Chloe raised her chin, not sure if she wanted to kiss Sam again or kick him in the shins for leaving her all revved up with no way to follow through. “You should have warned me.”

  “Back at you.” Sam’s smile was slight but full of mischief. “We should go.”

  “Fine,” she grumped.

  “Don’t forget your roses.” He returned to the conference room and came back a moment later with the bouquet.

  “They really are lovely,” she said, taking them from him.

  He gave a slight bow. “Probably the prettiest things to see the inside of Jack’s offices, present company excepted.”

  “How very gallant.”

  “Kind of you to say so. I’m sadly out of practice.”

  Because something made you think you’re a monster, and you gave up on important parts of yourself. Chloe wanted to say it but didn’t dare. She knew she didn’t have the whole picture. “You should practice more.”

  He slipped his sunglasses back on, but she could still read his expression. He actually looked happy. “We shadows need light to give us purpose, Miss Chloe. Shine on.”

  Chapter 10

  “How can I make this up to you?” Sam asked.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  They were back in the car, which now smelled like the roses in the backseat. Chloe was staring out the window at the summer afternoon. Even through the heavily tinted glass of Sam’s car, she could tell the sky was a brilliant blue, wild poppies a riot of orange in the grass.

  The car was a bright red gull-wing Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG. What was it with the men in Jack’s crowd and their cars? Every time she took a ride with one of them she half expected to find herself in an aftershave commercial.

  Sam was silent. Telephone poles whizzed by. Chloe felt the weight of his regret, although none of it showed on his face. He needn’t have worried about the unfortunate encounter with Elaine. She had let him off the hook, mostly. That kiss had bought a lot of forgiveness.

  She summoned her no-problem voice. “I’ll figure out a way to bring Elaine around. The Fallons are on a tight timeline, so they’re not going to want to start over with someone else. Besides, Mrs. F. has decided she wants Jack Anders
on’s niece at her beck and call. Iris Fallon doesn’t change her mind easily.” And, since she is the biggest client I’ve ever had, all that had better be true.

  Turning away from the hypnotic view of the roadside, she smiled sweetly. She felt, rather than saw, Sam relax a degree.

  “I could take you to a late lunch,” he suggested.

  A pleasant twinge of surprise made Chloe smile for real. “I could accept. Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot around here, unless you count roadside vegetable stands.”

  “I know a place.”

  “Where? I grew up here. If there was a place, I’d know.”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re an international man of mystery. You have ways.”

  Sam made a most un-Samlike snort, and signaled to change lanes. “Jack and I went for dinner a few months ago. He wanted to show me one of his new business ventures. This place hasn’t been open very long.”

  He took an exit that forked away from the main highway and wound toward the coast. The land was uneven, cloaks of grass and wildflowers thrown over jagged slabs of rock. Chloe could see swatches of ocean between the jutting boulders.

  “Jack did like to play angel.”

  Sam gave her a sideways look. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but she could see the amusement at the corners of his mouth. “You mean financially?”

  Chloe laughed, but it twisted inside her. “Yes, in the angel investor sense. I’m not sure he would have volunteered for wings and a harp. Sitting on a cloud all day wasn’t his style.”

  “No.” The amusement was suddenly gone, replaced by the tight grief Jack’s friends had worn ever since they’d arrived.

  Chloe looked out her window, fighting back a sudden wave of loneliness. She had friends, but Jack had been the only family left who’d really cared for her. His death had left her disconnected, an oddment like a stray button that got pushed to the back of the drawer because it went with nothing else.

 

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