“I agree. So why did you stay the night?”
Karen smirked. “Some guy with a camera followed us out of the restaurant. When I left this morning, he clicked a few pictures. Michael knew he’d be there, waiting.”
“There will be more of that.”
“I know. It’s only a year. Well, sixteen months. Crazy to be planning the divorce before the wedding, but Michael has the timeline down to the hour.”
Gwen narrowed her eyes. “Is all of this for publicity?”
Karen shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. He talked about his family, how they didn’t know about him. He thinks his mom suspects, but not his father. A couple of women he’d dated, for the camera, made it clear to the media that there wasn’t a sexual relationship, which I think started some inside rumors. The industry is rather tight-knit according to Michael. I’m not sure if he’s doing this to save his macho rep, or to buy himself some time. He has three huge films he’s involved in over this next year…and another two for the next. The millions he makes per film is enough incentive for him to get married.”
“That’s what I thought. Doesn’t matter anyway. So long as you don’t have any romantic ideas.”
“He’s sexy as hell but he rubs me like a good friend or a brother. No worries about me falling for him.”
“Good.” Gwen pushed off the couch. “You’re going to have to show me a few things in our files. Though I doubt there will be much activity while you’re prancing around France, you never know.”
“Let me change my clothes first.” Karen left the room and headed upstairs.
Gwen bookmarked the page she’d been looking at on the Internet and clicked into Alliance’s main client files.
“Ewwh! Gwen, get up here,” Karen yelled.
Gwen laughed as she walked toward Karen’s voice. “Our naked neighbors at it again? They were up late last night.”
Karen stood in the door of her room, not at the window.
Gwen followed Karen’s stare.
The window in Karen’s room was open a few inches and on a flower box was a mass of black feathers. “Is it a dead bird?”
“A crow, I think.”
Gwen moved closer. Sure enough, the crow looked like it had attempted to peck inside the screen. The beak was caught partially inside while its body lay in the gardenias.
“I hate birds, Gwen. Bad Alfred Hitchcock flashbacks.”
Gwen chuckled. She removed her shoe and tapped the end of the beak until it was free of the screen. She popped the screen free, and then using the tips of her fingers, Gwen managed to pick up a feather and quickly toss the bird to the ground below. “I’ll put it in the trash.”
“Thanks,” Karen said shivering. “Ewwh.”
Gwen chuckled as she left the room. “And everyone thinks I’m the weak one around here,” she said under her breath.
Chapter Eight
Gwen drove through the gates of her brother’s Malibu estate and parked her car in the circular drive. She waved at one of the groundskeepers and let herself into the house. “Hello?” she said as she walked inside.
The sound of soft heels meeting the tile floors preceded the housekeeper.
“Lady Gwen?”
“Hi, Mary.” Gwen removed her sunglasses and set them with her purse on the hall table. “How are you?”
Mary had worked with her brother for as long as he’d lived in this house. She was the main cook and would sometimes help with other domestic chores. There was a full-time live-in maid and groundskeepers who went home in the evenings. And of course, Neil.
It was killing her not to look for him. He was probably in the guesthouse…if he was there at all.
Gwen told herself she didn’t care. She was on a mission.
An independent mission.
“Did Samantha tell you I was coming?”
“She did. Will you be staying for lunch?” Mary asked with hope on her face.
“Bored, Mary?”
“To tears. I can hardly wait for them to come home.”
They walked together down the massive hall to the kitchen. The kitchen and breakfast room opened to a great room with huge floor to ceiling windows. Beyond the swimming pool and patios was a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean.
“I’d be happy to stay for lunch so long as you’ll join me.”
Mary raised her eyebrows. “Wonderful. Any requests?”
“Anything that isn’t prepared in a microwave would be super.” Learning how to cook hadn’t been part of Gwen’s upbringing. Since moving to the States, she’d had to learn to fend for herself, and that meant plenty of ready-made microwavable meals.
“Coming right up.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be in my brother’s study if you need me.”
Mary smiled as she wrapped an apron around her thick waist. Gwen heard her humming as she left the room.
Blake’s study was a painted in dark masculine colors with built-in bookcases and a desk that sat center stage. Brown leather chairs flanked the desk, with a couch and wet bar on one end of the room. Considering how much Blake despised their father she found it entertaining how the space reminded her of the larger study in Albany where their father used to spend all his time. The very same one Blake now used when in Europe. He ran his shipping business from both continents and did so quite successfully.
Not that he needed to any longer. Their father left his estate to Blake once he married and had an heir. Gwen and her mother were given small stipends on which to live. Small by their standards, large by anyone who hadn’t lived in a country manor all her life with jets at her disposal and a clothing allowance that could feed small countries. Blake didn’t feel the division of funds was fair so he added to her trust fund, not that she asked him to. Gwen knew her brother loved her. When he transferred the money into her accounts, she realized how much he’d sacrificed to obtain their father’s millions. She also realized how different her father and brother had been.
Living in the small Tarzana house was a choice. One Gwen really did enjoy. But now that she knew Neil wasn’t going to watch her every move, she needed to make certain she was safe.
Gwen crossed to where her brother hid his walk-in safe. The paneling on the wall looked like the others in the room, but when she placed her finger on a digital reader, the wall moved and a steel door stood in its place. A palm scanner opened the next door and she was inside.
Only four people had access to the safe: Blake, Sam, Neil, and herself. Gwen kept some of her own jewelry and funds in the secure space but that wasn’t why Blake gave her access. At twenty-four feet by twenty feet, and impermeable from the outside, it doubled as a safe room. When Blake and Samantha took a private vacation, Gwen stayed with her nephew and Sam’s disabled sister Jordan. Blake wanted to be sure that if there was ever a problem his family would be protected.
Gwen walked into the room and opened a drawer.
Inside, four handguns of different shapes and sizes sat next to open boxes of ammunition.
All she had to do was figure out which one suited her best.
She lifted the gun that looked like one that Eliza owned.
Always treat it like it’s loaded. Eliza’s words drifted in Gwen’s mind.
She checked the chamber, found it empty, and noticed the clip sitting beside it.
“What are you doing in here?” Neil’s booming voice made her jump. She turned toward him, gun in hand.
She noticed his gun in his hand and pointed toward the floor. “Good Lord, Neil, you scared me half to death.”
He reached behind his back, holstered his gun, and stepped into the room. “Answer the question.”
The sheer size of the man dwarfed the space. She turned away from him, doing her best to ignore his presence.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She picked up the clip, tested its weight.
“That’s not a toy.”
“I’m quite aware of that.”
“What do you need with it?”
&nb
sp; “Nothing. Probably. But between Eliza and Samantha’s advice, I’ve decided I should have something at the house should I ever need it.” Samantha had agreed with Eliza’s advice when they’d last spoken on the phone.
“You’ll likely shoot off your own foot.” He moved closer.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” After putting the gun and clip down, she lifted a revolver. She’d only held Eliza’s revolver once and couldn’t remember how to check the chamber. She wasn’t about to ask the man who just mocked her.
“Have you even held a gun before?”
She put the revolver back, skipped over the second larger revolver, and lifted another gun that was similar to the first. “Eliza taught me, remember?”
Neil grunted. “None of these are what Eliza carries.”
“These look the same.”
“Different calibers, different mechanisms.”
He stood next to her now, close enough that she felt the heat of his body.
She closed her eyes. I really have to stop torturing myself with this man.
“They shoot bullets, don’t they?”
“Of course.”
She grabbed the first gun and the clip. “Then I’ll be fine.” She turned to walk away, and Neil placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.
His grip was firm at first, and then softened when she met his hazel eyes. “Eliza shoots a .38. That’s a .45 and will knock you clear across the room when you squeeze the trigger.”
She couldn’t remember what Eliza shot, but apparently, Neil did. Gwen glanced at the gun.
“I’m not leaving here without a gun, Neil.”
His hand barely rested on her arm now, but he didn’t move away.
“Fine.” He let her go, knelt on the floor, and opened another drawer. He removed a black case, opened it, and proceeded to place all the guns, clips, and extra bullets inside.
“I don’t need them all,” she said.
He cocked his head to the side. “You need to leave with the right one. You won’t know what that is until you fire all of them.”
“Oh.”
They stayed for lunch, appeasing Mary, and then drove to an outdoor shooting range tucked in one of the many canyons of the California mountains.
The range was relatively quiet and it didn’t take long to realize that she was the only woman there. A couple of men sent her an appreciative glance, but after noticing Neil at her side, quickly looked away.
The concrete ground was littered with shell casings, making it difficult to walk in high heels. Once they entered the area where the guns were being fired, Neil handed her ear protection. The sounds of the blasts were muffled, and Gwen had a hard time hearing what Neil was saying.
He set up their guns at the far end of the run and rested his hand on the counter. “I want you to try this one first.” It was the largest revolver in Blake’s drawer.
Its sheer size intimidated her. “Why that one?” Did he want to scare her away from guns?
“It’s the easiest to shoot.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I doubt that.”
“I take my weapons seriously, Gwendolyn, and would never lie to you about them.”
The fact he used her full name made her question her doubt.
She glanced at the gun and decided to own up to her lack of knowledge. “I’ve forgotten how to open and load it.”
Neil brushed against her and picked it up. He pressed a button and swiveled out the round chamber in the middle. “There are six shots.” He picked up the bullets, one at a time, and added them. “Once it’s loaded, it’s live. You don’t have to pull this hammer back to shoot, but if you do, it helps with accuracy.”
“How does it help?”
“It takes more pressure on the trigger to fire the weapon than one of these guns.” He pointed to the guns with clips. “The added pressure messes with your aim, unless you’re a good shot.”
He handed her the weapon and nodded toward the targets on the field. Unlike the paper targets she’d used before, this range was full of swiveling metal that made clanging noises when hit.
The gun felt heavy in her hand. Heavier than the others.
Neil hesitated before moving into position behind her. He wrapped his arms around hers, holding her hands in his over the gun as he positioned them to his liking.
She swallowed. The thick feel of him holding her, even like this, made her breathless. The desire to lean into him made her dizzy. But she refrained. Every other time he’d been close to her, she’d practically jumped in his lap.
Not anymore. It was Neil’s turn to make the moves. That is, if he wanted to.
She wasn’t sure why he brought her to the range, outside of his instruction. Of course he could have suggested an instructor if he wanted to keep his distance.
But that wouldn’t have been Neil. He didn’t allow anyone to do what he did better.
“Ready?” His voice was muffled.
“What?”
“Are you ready?”
She nodded and closed one eye to see the target at the end of the barrel.
Neil cocked the gun and released her hands. He inched back, but she still felt his body against hers.
She focused on the beat-up red rotating triangle, sucked in a breath, and squeezed the trigger.
The blast kicked her back into Neil, but it wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was better than what she remembered about Eliza’s weapon.
“Did I hit it?” She hadn’t paid attention.
“No.”
Now that she knew what the gun would do, she cocked the hammer herself, took aim, and fired.
The triangle zipped in a circle.
She glanced up at Neil, whose eyes smiled even if his lips didn’t.
She fired again and hit the same target twice.
Neil pointed farther out on the range. “Shoot there.”
The second set of targets took a couple of extra shots to hit. But soon she found herself plucking away at them as if she’d done so for years. Excitement shot up her spine.
One corner of Neil’s lips lifted.
You really are sexy when you smile.
“Try it again. Without cocking the hammer.”
She concentrated harder, her tongue poked through her teeth as she fired the weapon. Sure enough, she missed her target, but at least it wasn’t off in the bushes, which made her feel good.
They went through several rounds with both revolvers before Neil moved to the pistols. The smaller one felt like Eliza’s but Gwen’s accuracy wasn’t as good. After a few shots, Neil took the gun in his hand, narrowed his eyes, and squeezed. His arms didn’t so much as move with the kick. He missed his target.
He readjusted his aim and fired again.
Gwen watched as he fired six shots, all hitting their targets at the far end of the range.
“The sights are off. I’ll have to adjust them at home. It’s shooting to the left of what you’re aiming.” He handed her the gun again. “Try and adjust for the gun’s issue and hit something close.”
She managed one out of five targets.
They finished with the gun she’d nearly taken home. Neil warned her about the kick and braced her body with his. She did her best to ignore the warm feel of him at her back and shot.
The gun tilted her back, into his arms.
“Wow.” Her arms vibrated with the force of the gun.
“I told you.”
She set the weapon down, not willing to shoot it again.
“Giving up?”
She narrowed her eyes and found him smiling down at her.
“You’re taunting me.”
“Maybe. But if you needed to use it, I don’t want you unprepared.”
He wrapped his arms around her again and picked up the gun. He held on to her as she shot the gun two more times, helping absorb the impact. The following rounds came close to their targets, but missed. When the clip was empty, Neil stood behind her with his hands on her
shoulders. For a moment she stood still, enjoying the feel and scent of the man she’d fantasized about relentlessly since they’d met.
The range had emptied out, leaving only the two of them.
“Not bad, Harrison.”
She laughed. He’d never addressed her by her last name. “Harrison?”
His hands softened on her shoulders. “In the military, we often called each other by our last names. Seemed appropriate with you out here lighting up the place.”
He’d never, not once, said a thing about his military days. That he did so now felt intimate somehow.
“So they called you MacBain?” she asked, removing the plastic glasses she wore to protect her eyes.
“Mac. They called me Mac.” His voice had softened, making it difficult to hear him. She tugged the earmuffs away and twisted in his arms.
He offered a smile, one seldom seen.
“Well, Mac, thanks for the lesson.”
He hadn’t moved away. His hands rested on her forearms. This close, she could see his eyes even through the dark sunglasses. They stared directly into hers.
Her heart kicked in her chest, firing signals throughout her body. Neil lifted his hand to her face, traced his thumb alongside her jaw.
She wanted his kiss so much she could taste it. For one brief moment, she felt him move into her. Then something snapped, and he moved away. His gaze, his body, his hand.
“We should go.”
Gwen wanted to call him out. He wanted her; Lord knew she wanted him. So why did he hesitate?
What was so broken inside of him that made him pull away?
Chapter Nine
The silent ride back to Malibu ate at him.
His gut ached. The floral scent of the shampoo she used found a comfortable place inside his head and took root. He’d never again look at the froufrou shampoo section in the store and not think of Gwen.
He’d tortured himself when he’d wrapped his arms around her. Her tiny frame fit perfectly against his. Not that it mattered.
But it did. He knew it mattered. The only way he was going to escape her was to leave. Hire someone to take his place at Blake’s side, pack his one bag, and disappear.
And what about the raven left with Billy’s body? Was it a warning? A warning that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone other than the remaining members of Neil’s team?
Fiancé by Friday Page 7