She hesitantly pulled up her gaze to meet Denton’s. Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited for his response. Would he feel pity? Would he see her as weak? His gaze held steadfastly to hers.
“Good girl.”
Good girl? Had he said “good girl”? She almost wanted to giggle with giddiness. No, he didn’t feel pity or look down on her. She tilted her head, admiring his features for the twentieth time that day. There was something about Denton that made her want to soak him in for the rest of her life. “How do you do it?”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Do what?”
“Get me to talk like that? I value privacy, but you probably know more about me now than anyone else my father has hired.”
“I’m honored.” His voice sounded velvety smooth and sincere—just the way that made Elle swoon.
She stood and waved a finger at him, trying to resist a smile as she paced in front of the fire and shook her head. “You’re good.”
He raised himself to his feet and stepped toward her. Elle couldn’t help but notice how he towered over her five-foot-six-inch frame. “Why do you say it like it’s bad?”
“I’ve seen your type.” She shook her head and let out a shaky laugh, hating the way her pulse raced when he stepped closer. Mark Denton was dangerous—to her heart, at least. “I’ve got to go to bed.”
“So is my type good or bad?”
Elle nodded. “Good night, Denton.”
A grin stretched across his face. “Good night, Elle.”
* * *
As Denton watched Elle walk away, his grin slipped. The woman certainly fascinated him. And surprised him. And made him want to learn more about her. All things he needed to squash. He was hired to protect her, not get involved with her. Besides, he wasn’t interested in a relationship. What he’d found with Wendi was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. No one ever could take her place.
He flipped off the lights and paced into the kitchen. In the darkness, he stood by the window and let his gaze roam the landscape. He couldn’t see much in the nighttime, only a few deck chairs and the outline of some trees.
He paused. Something glinted in the distance. What was that? The glare had come from the tree line. Had he been seeing things? He knew he hadn’t. He trusted his instincts.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his man outside. He’d left the agent on patrol around the perimeter of the house. Denton felt better having eyes inside and outside the house. Agent Banks answered on the first ring.
“It’s Denton. I want you to check something in the woods south of the house. Something glinted out there. I just don’t know what it was. Maybe binoculars.”
“I’m on it.”
“Check in with me. And treat this as if it’s the killer out there. We’re dealing with some real sickos.”
“Got it.”
Denton pressed in the security code and slipped out the back door, his gun drawn and his phone on vibrate. He hurried to the perimeter and scaled the fence. Once in the cover of the woods, he skulked behind trees, trying not to be seen. On the opposite side of the property, he spotted Agent Banks mimicking his movements, a few steps ahead of him.
Just a couple more feet and he’d be there. As he got closer to the area where he’d seen something, he slowed, making sure each of his steps was careful, quiet. He paused behind a tree and peered around it. He saw nothing. Was one of the madmen hiding just out of sight? Were they waiting for just the right moment to send a bullet through the air?
Agent Banks waved him over. He lowered his weapon—but only slightly—as he approached. “What’s going on?”
“No one’s here, but they were. Look at this.”
Denton squatted on the ground and saw the area where some underbrush had been stomped. Something white sticking out from under some vines caught his eye. Carefully, he pulled it out.
His jaw locked in place as the paper came into view. It was a picture of Elle with an X over her face.
Just what was someone planning?
EIGHT
Elle had spent most of the day fielding calls from the media and volunteers about everything that had happened over the past three days. Tonight was her father’s annual fund-raising gala—the highlight event of his campaign, the one that everyone talked about and that all the big donors came out for.
Would that be the same this year? Would the news of the past few days scare anyone away? And the bigger question—should those events scare people away? She’d briefly thought about begging her dad to cancel.
Last year’s gala would forever be stained in her memory. It was the night that Preston had proposed to her, right there in front of everyone. When she said yes, everyone had cheered and mumbled about what a perfect couple they were. It wasn’t even three months later that she’d found out he was cheating on her. A month after confronting him, she’d found text messages confirming that there was more than one woman.
She’d broken things off. Preston had begged her to stay, insisted that he’d do better. She’d held strong, despite her heartbreak. He’d called nearly every day for the next three months, pleading with her to change her mind until he finally realized she wouldn’t give in.
Her heart twisted at the memory. She would never, ever put herself in that situation again. She’d steer clear of heartbreakers, even if it meant never getting married.
At the moment, she stood in the grand entryway of her parents’ home, the silky material of her royal-blue gown swishing at her feet. Her hair, normally wavy, had been shaped by the curling iron and her makeup was patted perfectly in place. She was ready for tonight’s gala—physically, at least. Emotionally was another story.
Seeing Preston was bad enough, but couple that with the threats being made and the danger surrounding her, and it was enough to put her over the edge.
She rolled back her shoulders and raised her chin, trying to work out the kinks from working in the office all day. She’d made phone calls, done interviews, answered emails and penned a press release. Keep busy, she’d told herself. That had been her only goal. Without staying on task, her mind would wander to places it had no business going.
A million times, she’d thought about canceling on the gala and staying in. But she would trust Denton to do his job and protect her. She would show the men desperate to claim her life that she was stronger than they thought.
Despite her bravado, her purse trembled in her hand.
Her attention turned toward someone coming down the stairway. She sucked in a breath when she saw Denton decked out in a tuxedo. The normal shadow on his face had been replaced with a clean-shaved smoothness. Every hair was in place, and he had a million-dollar smile as the finishing touch.
She found herself speechless for a moment as he stopped in front of her. At once, she got a whiff of citrus and spices, the scent sweet but masculine.
She cleared her throat, willing her voice to sound even and unaffected. “You look quite dapper.”
“Dapper?” He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling.
“I can’t say I’ve ever used that word before.” She chuckled. “It just seemed appropriate.”
“Well, then may I say that you look quite hot. Smoking hot, for that matter.” He straightened, giving his jacket a tug. “Respectfully speaking, of course.”
She smoothed the folds of her rich blue gown. She had to admit that she felt like a princess the moment she stepped into the dress. “Don’t make me blush.”
“You say dapper and you blush. You’re a treasure.”
She swatted his arm. “Stop. You’re bad.”
“But I mean it.”
Oh, he was bad. So bad that he was good. Charming, smooth, adventurous and entirely too handsome.
Basically, he was everything she was attracted t
o in a man, but nothing she wanted.
He stepped closer and touched the necklace at her throat. Having him so close made her oddly aware of her quickened breathing. His fingers seemed hot against her skin as he rubbed the pendant at her neck. “You wear this all the time. Tell me about it.”
The 14K chain had a charm—a golden dove. The piece was simple, but to Elle it was the most beautiful necklace ever. “My grandmother gave it to me before she died.”
“It must mean a lot to you.”
Elle nodded, the day the necklace was gifted to her rushing to her mind with nearly enough force to bring tears to her eyes. “It reminds me of a promise I made to her.”
He nodded. “A promise, huh? Sounds intriguing.”
“She was a good woman. I still miss her.” Elle pictured her grandmother’s regal bearing, one that was balanced with a gentle spirit and a wise countenance. People were intimidated by the woman until they got to know her. Then they realized what a gem she was.
His eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”
Elle swallowed, a chill breezing through her when Denton’s grasp slipped from the necklace. His hands went in his pockets instead. Elle had to turn her thoughts to other subjects. “Are you sure tonight is okay?”
“My men have been at the hotel all day sweeping the place and setting up the proper surveillance. There are eyes all over the place.”
“And you?”
He grinned. “My eyes will be on you.”
Suddenly, being around cold-blooded killers seemed safer than being alone with Denton. Safer for her heart, at least. Despite her efforts to stop it, a grin tugged at her lips as she nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Five minutes later, they rolled down the road. Elle’s thoughts continued to get pulled back to the events of the past week. Too much death, she realized with a heavy heart. Too much death. Would she be next?
She couldn’t think like that. But she couldn’t stop herself, either.
Any minute she expected to hear ammunition slam through the window, to feel a bullet pierce her skin. She waited to feel the SUV swerve, to smell gas and smoke.
“Don’t think like that.”
Elle jerked her head toward Denton. “Like what?”
“I can see it on your face. Keep your thoughts going down that path and you’ll have a panic attack.”
She raised her chin. “Maybe I wasn’t thinking about danger at all, Mark Denton.”
“Mark Denton? You used my full name. What could that mean?” He raised his brows in that playfully arrogant manner that Elle was quickly getting used to. “Then what were you thinking about?”
She shrugged as the landscape morphed from trees to suburban neighborhoods and strip malls. “Maybe I was thinking about political campaigns. Or eating a slice of my favorite pizza at that shop down on the boardwalk. Or seeing that new movie that just came out that all the reviewers are raving about.”
“Are you?”
Her smile drooped, and she tightened her grip on her purse. “No, I’m not.”
“Tell me about your favorite pizza place.”
“They’ve got this Mediterranean pizza made with pesto and topped with fresh mozzarella, basil, artichoke and mushrooms. It’s the best pizza in Virginia, hands down. And when the weather’s just right you can sit on one of the benches facing the ocean and that salty air hits you as you’re eating. And, just for a moment, everything seems perfect. All because of a slice of pizza.” She chuckled, knowing her exaggeration sounded like just that. But what she wouldn’t give right now to have one of those carefree moments.
“I’ll have to try it sometime.”
She pictured herself sitting on her favorite bench at the oceanfront with Denton. The thought made her feel way too dizzy. If she thought a relationship with Denton would ever work out, then she was a fool. Still, she found herself saying, “Maybe.”
They passed the rest of the ride by talking about their favorite hangouts and foods and movies. Finally, the SUV pulled to a stop in front of the hotel and convention center where the fund-raising gala was being held. The driver stopped at the front doors, and Denton helped her out of the vehicle, even being careful not to mess up her dress.
Once they got past security, they stood at the ballroom’s entrance for a moment, doubt claiming Elle. “So what now?”
Denton took her hand and rested it in the crook of his arm. “Now, you’re going to be escorted by a handsome—I mean, dapper—gentleman into the gala, where you’ll make an appearance and show everyone how fabulously well you’re doing.”
“Handsome, dapper and humble. What a combination.”
He grinned. “Shall we?”
“Let’s.”
They stepped into the dimly lit ballroom. Elle found herself inadvertently squeezing Denton’s arm—his solid, muscular arm. She scolded herself for noticing. But she had to admit that there was something very reassuring about having him at her side. She shouldn’t get used to this, though. He’d be out of her life soon enough.
Her gaze roamed the crowd, and she immediately identified a handful of regulars who never missed one of their fund-raisers. Across the room, her mom and dad mingled, looking like royalty in their formalwear. Memories from last year flooded back to her. The night had felt so perfect at the time.
Brianna rushed over to them. “You both look like you just stepped off the pages of Glamour magazine. Stunning. Both of you.”
“I don’t know about me, but I agree that Elle looks fantastic.”
Elle ignored the flutter beginning in her stomach and focused on her friend. “How’s it going?”
“Everything’s running as smooth as the fondant icing on that looks-too-fancy-to-eat cake over there.” Brianna paused. “Elle, there’s something I need to tell you—”
Before she could finish her sentence, someone stepped forward. “Elle. Fancy seeing you here.”
Elle knew the voice without even looking up. Preston. She heaved in a breath, bracing herself for whatever the conversation might hold. “Fancy seeing me at my father’s fund-raiser? Good to see you, too, Preston.” Temperance, Elle. Temperance. That’s what her grandmother would tell her to remember. Always be classy, but stand your ground.
He hadn’t changed in the six months since she’d last seen him. He was still tall, skinny, blond and traditionally good-looking. Not as good-looking as he thought he was, however. It was hard to believe that it was at last year’s gala that he’d proposed to her and they’d talked about forever.
Preston’s beady, calculating eyes—eyes that Elle used to think were intelligent and perceptive—turned to Denton. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Elle looked up at Denton and saw the curiosity etched in his gaze. “This is...” How did she introduce him? Certainly not as her bodyguard. She could only imagine the questions she’d get then. “This is...”
Denton extended his hand, a winning smile plastered across his face. “I’m Mark Denton.”
“Preston Owens, an old friend of Elle’s.”
The two men shook hands before Preston turned to her. “Elle, I was hoping I might speak to you.” His gaze flickered to Denton. “Alone.”
Elle shook her head, having no desire to have a prolonged conversation with her ex-fiancé. Nor did she feel comfortable leaving Denton’s side with the threats that had been made. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Denton. Mark, I mean.”
Preston flinched but only for a moment. He drew himself up with an overly confident air again. “Okay then. I just wanted you to hear this from me.”
“Hear what?”
He glanced behind him toward the restrooms before turning back with wide grin. “I’m engaged, Elle.”
Elle’s throat went dry as she processed his announcement. “Engaged? W
ow. I don’t know what to say. Congratulations.”
“She’s really great, Elle. I think you’ll like her.”
She shoved down her emotions, the memories of their time together. “Is she here?”
“She slipped away to the powder room, but I’d love for you to meet her.”
“Well, she’s one...” What did she say? Lucky? No way. “She’s one engaged girl. Good for you.”
“I’m sorry about...” He waved his finger back and forth between them. “You know.”
“Don’t be. The past is the past.” And better a brief period of unhappiness than an entire lifetime. She couldn’t believe that she’d actually thought the two of them could have a future. She’d lost her sensibilities and vowed to never do that again. Which was why she needed to tamp down her attraction to Mark Denton. They were professionals who were forced to work together and nothing more. No repeat mistakes when it came to relationships.
Preston’s eyes turned serious, and any hint of a smile disappeared. “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
“You don’t have to explain to me. Really.” In fact, please don’t. Especially not now.
He stared at her another moment before nodding and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay then. I guess I’ll see you around?”
Elle forced a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”
As soon as he stepped away, Denton leaned toward her, close enough that they could talk without anyone else hearing. “You really dodged a bullet with him.”
She blinked in surprise at his unexpected words. “What are you talking about?”
“He defines smarmy. Not the marrying type. Not the type I would even trust in business, for that matter.”
“You could tell that in the few minutes you heard him talking?”
He stepped back and looked her in the eye. “I think he wanted you to look jealous or heartbroken, Elle. I don’t know who I feel sorrier for—him or his fiancée.”
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