by F F Perez
It was at that moment I knew I was fucked. Nancy Corrigan was mine, and I’d be damned if I let her go. Problem was—she didn’t even know who I really was.
Chapter Nine: Nancy
I peeked up at Lance from beneath my lashes. We had just landed in Cairns, Australia for our honeymoon and were walking through the airport.
After the mind-blowing sex of the previous evening, I had fallen into a deep sleep, not stirring until Lance had shaken me awake this morning. It had been a long time since I had felt safe and relaxed enough to sleep that deeply.
When Lance had informed me we were leaving for Australia in just a few hours, I had put up a valiant fight. But he had won the argument. Leaving the country when my business was still in such a precarious position didn’t sit well with me, but losing my life sat worse. Even I had to admit that it would be difficult for William Jameson to find us in Australia, especially since almost nobody knew we had gotten married or were leaving on a honeymoon. Lance had even agreed to let me conduct business remotely, just forbidding me from telling anyone our location.
Maybe it won’t be so bad, I thought, risking another peek at the man beside me. If we can do a few repeat performances of last night, I think I could stay in Australia for a while.
Elsa had urged me to take a vacation when my father had died, saying it would do me good to get away, but I hadn’t had the heart to go. Of course, she had probably been right. The last several hours had been uncomfortable on the plane, but arriving in an exotic locale had distracted me a little from my grief. And there weren’t constant reminders of my father—or of Jim—everywhere I went, so that was nice.
Lance pulled our bags off the baggage belt and gestured for me to follow him. He had a rental car reserved for us, and, in no time at all, we were zooming through the streets of Cairns on our way to the hotel. When we arrived at the hotel—which was more like a resort than anything—the manager himself whisked us up to the presidential suite.
Eyeing the large bed, I knew a vacation was exactly what I needed. Besides, it would be easy to explain where I went to my fussy housekeeper turned friend. I would simply tell her I had needed to get away and had taken a last-minute vacation. I made the conscious decision to enjoy myself here. Even ignoring the assassins and fake husband, I deserved the time off as much as anyone.
Days passed in sunny brilliance. Surprisingly, Lance was fun to be around—when he wasn’t being insufferable. He booked trips to the Great Barrier Reef and expeditions into the rainforest, impressing me with his knowledge of the local sites. I assumed he had been here before, maybe on a job for Shields United, and I found myself relaxing around him.
I could actually see us coming here together in five years, celebrating an anniversary or towing a child or two. The thought both scared and thrilled me. I decided not to examine my emotions too closely until we were home and William was out of the picture. Until then, everything seemed too fragile.
On the fourth day of our “honeymoon,” Lance and I woke up to stormy weather.
“Damn,” I muttered, glaring out at the storm clouds.
“What’s wrong, Nan?” Lance came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I was planning on sun-bathing a little today,” I grumbled, throwing myself down at the small kitchen table.
Lance had made breakfast this morning, just as he had every morning. It was one of those little surprises I had discovered about him—that he loved to cook. Not only did he enjoy it, but he was amazing at it. Digging into my eggs, I threw another glare outside at the clouds.
Lance chuckled and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “There are fun things we can do inside, sweetheart,” he purred, making my body tingle with anticipation.
“Like what?” I asked, turning so our faces were mere inches apart.
The answering look he gave me heated my blood.
“You know,” I squeaked. “I have been wanting to try out that jetted tub in our bathroom.”
A wicked grin spread across his face as his eyes darkened with desire. “Finish your breakfast,” he ordered. “Then, meet me in the bathroom. If you’re not in there in ten minutes, I’m coming back to get you.”
I nodded and turned to shovel the eggs in my mouth, but he grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. “If I have to come get you,” he growled, “I might have to punish you for it.”
He released my face and stalked off toward the bathroom, leaving me to debate whether I should make him come get me. The punishment he promised seemed too intriguing to pass up. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. I was definitely going to make him come get me.
A knock at the door pulled me out of my fantasies. Housekeeping wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, so I couldn’t be sure who was knocking.
“Lance?” I called. “Did you order room service?”
“What?” he yelled from the bathroom.
“Room service!” I called back. “Oh, never mind. I’ll answer it.”
Rolling my eyes, I strode over to the door. As soon as I opened it, a large man burst in, grabbing me by the throat. We tumbled to the ground, a nearby vase crashing to the floor. The stranger’s hands pressed on my windpipe. I couldn’t draw a breath, let alone scream for help. My vision dimmed, and I kicked out helplessly, clawing at the man’s arms.
Suddenly, the hands around my throat disappeared and the assassin’s weight left me. I gulped in cool air, gasping and spluttering. Rolling onto my knees, I squinted at the man held in a firm chokehold by Lance.
The assassin knocked his head backwards; hitting Lance in the face and making him lose his grip on the other man. The attacker whirled around, throwing Lance over his shoulder onto the floor. Without missing a beat, Lance kicked out his legs in a sweeping motion, knocking the assassin to the ground on his back.
Lance flew to his feet at the same time as the assassin. The two men circled each other for a few moments before the assassin attacked, lashing out at Lance who blocked the other man’s punch by pushing it away with the flat of one hand. Quick as lightning, Lance struck out with a flat hand, hitting the other man in his left eye. The assassin bent over, clutching his injured eye, and Lance used the opportunity to slam his elbow onto the back of the attacker’s neck.
The assassin went to his knees, but before Lance could land another blow, the wounded man threw himself at Lance. They both crashed to the floor and grappled with each other, the assassin pinning Lance to the floor with his bulky weight. Lance attempted to block as the assassin landed punch after punch on his face, ribs, and arms.
I scrambled to my feet, still wheezing, and looked around me in desperation. Spying another vase on an end table, I snatched it up and slammed it down on the assassin’s head. It stunned the man enough for Lance to get out from under him and land three hard punches to the assassin’s face, knocking him unconscious.
As soon as the large man hit the ground, I rushed toward Lance, throwing my arms around him. He wrapped his arms around me for a moment and then pushed me back to look at me. His eyes flashed with anger as he studied my neck.
“How the fuck did he find us?” Lance growled.
“I don’t know,” I croaked, my throat still sore. “Maybe he has my office bugged and heard us talking?”
Lance shook his head. “No, I checked your office and your apartment for something like that. Your father’s house, too. All of it was clean.” He suddenly looked thoughtful.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, noticing the look in his eyes.
“That bugging your office might not be a bad idea.”
I frowned.
“It may be a good way to get Jameson or one of his hit men to admit his guilt,” Lance explained. “Then we would have his confession recorded and that would be all the proof we would need.”
“Yeah, but the only way that would work is if we go back and wait for someone to attack,” I pointed out.
Lance’s scowled. “No way.”
>
“What? Why not?”
“Because I am not using you as bait,” he snapped.
“For goodness’ sake, Lance. We can’t stay in Australia forever. And besides, somehow Jameson found us. We went as far away as we could, and he still found us. There’s nowhere else to go.”
“We could go somewhere more remote and off the grid,” he said stubbornly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Like where? Antarctica? Face it, Lance. We have to go back. Besides, I have to be back in Vegas for the annual Children’s Hospital Charity Gala. My father ran it every year, and I won’t see it cancelled this year. It was important to him, and it’s important to me. I won’t miss it. We have to go back.”
He glared at me for a few moments before sighing.
I stroked his face. Blood trickled from his nose, and a bruise was already forming over his cheekbone. “Let’s go home,” I whispered.
Nodding, he led me into the bathroom so I could clean up his face a little. We packed our bags in a rush, leaving before the man on the floor could wake up and cause more trouble.
Chapter Ten: Nancy
The plane ride back to the States was tense. Lance kept a sharp eye out for any would-be assassins while I attempted to get some sleep and prepare for the Children’s Gala.
With Lance attending the gala as my husband rather than just as my security detail, I needed to make him aware of all the different people who would be there and prepare him for the endless small talk we would have to endure. People who weren’t used to these events could become overwhelmed. I tried to explain this to him, but he was being too stubborn to care, and we ended up sitting in stony silence for most of the flight back.
We had a quick layover in Los Angeles, and Lance was on edge the entire time, jumping at every noise and glaring at everyone who came within a few feet of us. It was a relief to arrive back to Las Vegas. Elsa met us at the baggage claim holding a garment bag and looking Lance up and down.
“Elsa,” I said, smiling, grateful to see a familiar face.
“Miss Corrigan,” Elsa greeted me with a warm smile.
“It’s Mrs. Now,” Lance bit out a little too harshly.
I glared at him.
Sighing, he offered Elsa an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Elsa. It’s been a long flight. Nancy and I married shortly before we left. This trip was our honeymoon.”
Elsa stared at me in shock before narrowing her eyes at Lance. “How come I’ve never seen you before?”
I hurried to explain the entire situation to her, stopping Lance’s angry outburst with my hand. “I have known Elsa all my life. If we want people to believe we’re married, we need her to play along.”
He stared down at me, his eyes intense and heated.
“Fine,” he said, sighing and closing his eyes. “But no one else. I’m trying to keep you safe, Nancy. Your friends will get over their hurt feelings, but they won’t get over your death.”
I nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “I wouldn’t be able to get over your death very easily, either,” he whispered.
My face flushed as warmth spread throughout my body. I cleared my throat and looked away. I wasn’t used to these kinds of feelings, and they made me uncomfortable. Elsa was watching us with a small smile on her face.
Scowling, I gestured to the garment bag. “What’s that?”
Elsa raised an eyebrow. “It’s your outfit for the evening,” she answered calmly, brushing off my grumpiness. “Unless you want to go to the gala in jeans and a t-shirt?”
I had the grace to blush at my rudeness before taking the garment bag from her arms.
“You need to be there in an hour and a half,” Elsa continued. “You should change here so we can drive over from the airport. We will arrive early, but that will give this one”—she gestured to Lance—“time to sweep the area and brief your other security agents.”
I nodded. It was a good plan.
“I’ll wear my tux from the wedding,” Lance said, grabbing my arm and steering me toward the bathrooms. “Good thing we lugged our wedding stuff to Australia with us.”
He poked his head into the family restroom, and then pulled me inside with him to change, leaving Elsa to wait outside the door.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked Lance as he yanked on his tux.
“Stop worrying so much, Nan. It will be fine. We’ll get through this night, and tomorrow we’ll work on catching Jameson.”
Sighing, I unzipped the garment bag and pulled the dress out. It was a floor-length black dress covered from neck to foot in black sequins. The effect was dramatic and beautiful. I slipped the dress on, tugging it over my hips and sliding my arms into the holes. The collar went all the way around my neck, hugging my throat, leading to peekaboo back like my wedding gown.
Turning my back to Lance, I wordlessly asked him to help me zip up. His fingers lingered at my back long after he had finished zipping before trailing up to rest on my shoulders.
I leaned back into him. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he answered.
I swept my hair up into a sleek ponytail that trailed down my back. I knew from experience that sequins would catch at my hair and I wasn’t in the mood to have my hair pulled all night.
Well, not by my dress, I thought, gazing at Lance in his dark suit with a hunger that terrified me.
We exited the bathroom where Elsa was still waiting patiently.
“Oh, you look beautiful,” she breathed with a small smile. “The car is waiting. I can do your makeup when we get there.”
We left the airport, slipping into the stretch limo. Once we arrived at the venue, Lance rushed off to check the security for the evening, ordering Kevin to follow Elsa and me to the bathroom where she applied my makeup with an expert hand.
“Are you sure about this fake wedding, Miss Corrigan?” she asked after a few minutes.
“What do you mean, Elsa?”
She studied me a moment before sweeping my cheeks with blush. “I just worry about you, Nancy.”
Even though I had known her most of my life, she only ever used my first name when she was serious or worried. I glanced up at her. Definitely worried.
“I’m safe with Lance, Elsa. He will keep me safe.”
“He will keep your life safe,” Elsa answered. “But what about your heart? You don’t open up easily, Nancy. You never have. And I can see you pulling away from him when he tries to get too close. If you don’t let him in, he will leave. And then where will you be?”
I was silent as I thought about what she said. Did I really do that? It would make sense if I did. When my mother died, my whole life became about my father and his company. I hadn’t had time for dating or friends. It wasn’t by choice that I was a virgin before Lance, but rather for lack of opportunity.
I liked my life the way it was. I liked working in the company and making it better. But even I had to admit that something had been missing for a long time. My father’s love and friendship had distracted me from that missing something, but now that he was gone, there were no distractions. Loneliness had slipped into my life long ago, but my father’s death had magnified it a hundred fold. It was no wonder I had agreed to Lance’s plan. Not only did I have no real experience with relationships, but I had been so alone and afraid, I had jumped at the first opportunity for companionship and protection.
That’s not fair, I thought. I wouldn’t have jumped at just anyone’s offer.
It was Lance that had made me feel safe and not so lonely. It wouldn’t have been the same if it had been anyone else. But why? Did I like him? Did I love him? The thought terrified me more than the loneliness. How the hell was I supposed to know how I felt about someone when I didn’t even know what that kind of love was?
Elsa was studying me, worry in her eyes.
“I’ll be fine, Elsa. I promise,” I said, managing a comforting smile.
&nbs
p; She didn’t look convinced, but she dropped the subject. “You look beautiful, Nancy. Try to have fun tonight.”
Scooping up my cosmetics, she left the bathroom. I stared after her for a few minutes, lost in thought.
An hour later, I stood next to Lance, too busy with the number of people congratulating us to examine my feelings any closer. It surprised everyone in my father’s circle to find I had married so suddenly and without the ceremony and celebration that would normally have accompanied an elite wedding. I calmly repeated over and over that we had wanted a small, private wedding out of respect for my father’s recent passing. A celebration was not appropriate to the circumstances. Everyone accepted the excuse with smiles and grace, and soon, the conversation ebbed in other directions.
Glancing around anxiously, I saw that William had still not made an appearance. I didn’t know whether that face should relieve me or terrify me. In any case, I stuck as close to Lance as possible.
I snuck a peek up at Lance, marvelling—not for the first time that evening—at his relaxed behaviour. He was at home in the situation, surprising for someone with such a humble background. He ingratiated himself with many elite members of society with more grace and dignity than most people who had been doing this forever would have had.
“There’s Mark Sanderson,” I whispered to him. “He’s a retired major from the army. You might have a few things in common.”
Lance squinted at the older gentleman striding toward us.
“Nancy,” Mark said, hugging me tightly. “I haven’t seen you since the funeral. How are you holding up? I hear you’re married?”
He held me at arm’s length and glanced over at Lance.
“This is Lance Savage,” I said quickly. “My husband. Lance, this is Major Mark Sanderson, my father’s best friend.”
“Call me Mark,” Mark said, shaking Lance’s hand. “So, Lance, tell me, where did you come from?”
“Nancy and I met at her father’s funeral,” Lance explained, grasping Mark’s hand in a firm grip. “I was on her security detail and struck up a friendship with her. Over the next few months, we fell in love. We decided to get married in a quiet ceremony out of respect for Mr. Corrigan’s recent passing.”