The Wedding Trap (Second Service)

by Adrienne Bell

  "I was seventeen. She and I got into a fight one night after she'd been drinking. She grabbed the keys and before any of us could stop her she'd driven off and wrapped the car around a tree."

  Beth froze as she was pulling down her dress. She couldn't help it. He hadn't used many words. He didn’t need to. She could see the scene crystal clear in her mind. He'd been a kid. His world had been turned upside down.

  "You joined the Navy right after that," she said. It wasn't a question.

  "How did you know?" he asked.

  "Doesn't sound like your home had a lot of structure or discipline. You're obviously a guy who values those things. So you found a place that had them. I may have only known you for a couple of days, but you're a pretty easy read.”

  “I know a couple of people who would disagree with you.”

  “Then they’re idiots,” she said.

  He laughed darkly.

  He was waiting for her by the door when she was dressed and ready, his face impassive. She put her hand up to his cheek.

  "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she said.

  He gazed at her for a long time before nodding and opening the door. They took the elevator this time. He was silent all the way back down. Almost all of her anger had faded away.

  Halfway down, Alex's text alert went off. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and looked at the screen for half a second before slipping it back into his pocket.

  "We need to make a quick stop before dinner.”

  Beth nodded.

  Alex walked through a set of unmarked doors near the restaurant entrance. Bright fluorescent lights gleamed off polished tiled floors. The corridor was clean but industrial, a glaring contrast to the elegance of the hotel.

  She didn’t ask where they were going. Off to hear more news, no doubt. It was strange how quickly she was getting used to this new life of hers. She was still afraid, but somehow she'd managed to push it into the background. She could function if she didn't think that all of this fuss was over her.

  Beth looked up. She hadn't noticed that she’d fallen a few steps behind Alex. Apparently, he hadn’t either.

  She scurried forward, trying to make up the distance. But before she could reach him a door swung open and a metal cart slid between them.

  Beth stopped short, but not quick enough. Her knee bumped into the side and all the covered dishes on top swayed and clattered.

  The waiter pushing the cart looked at her and smiled. It was friendly enough gesture so she smiled back. He didn't seem upset that she'd nearly knocked over a whole table’s worth of food.

  "Hey, you don't happen to be Beth Bradley, do you?" he asked.

  "Yeah," she said.

  "Good, cause—“

  Whatever he was going to say was cut off. Alex appeared and wrapped his arm around the man's neck, forcing the waiter to bend back at an extreme angle. The man's arms shot up.

  "Dude," he shouted. "What the hell?”

  Beth's hands flew to her open mouth as the waiter teetered on his heels. Alex held him upright, but the poor guy had to bend his knees to keep himself steady. If Alex loosened his grip the guy would crumble to the floor.

  "How do you know her name?” Alex demanded. His voice was like sharpened steel, cold and deadly.

  "Th-there's a group in the restaurant waiting for her. I heard them asking where she was.” Alex's arm tightened around the waiter's neck. His words just barely squeaked out.

  Beth shot Alex a look. He didn't let go.

  "That's the only way you know her?" Alex whispered into the waiter’s ear.

  "Yeah. I don't know her, I swear. Dude, let me go," the waiter said again. His face was turning red.

  "Alex, let him go," Beth said. She didn't want the poor guy passing out—or worse—just because he'd made the mistake of talking to her.

  Alex looked at her for a long moment before reluctantly letting the man slip from his grasp. The waiter clutched his throat. Beth expected some yelling, maybe even a little crying. But instead the guy started grinning like an idiot.

  “That was awesome,” he said, staring at Alex in admiration. "You came out of nowhere. What are you, some kind of ninja?"

  Alex pushed the metal cart of Beth's way and took her hand. "I'm nobody."

  "Dude, you are amazing," the waiter called after them as they walked down the hall. "Totally sick."

  Alex pushed open another set of doors at the end of the hall, and pulled her out onto a small concrete landing. A set of concrete steps led down to an empty loading dock. John Ryman was leaning against a wall at the far end. He uncrossed his arms and walked towards them. When he got close enough he nodded at Beth, then focused his attention on Alex.

  "What do you have?" Alex asked. He sounded impatient.

  “We have confirmation that another hit has been put out on Miss Bradley."

  A knot instantly formed in Beth's throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it refused to budge.

  “Munoz?” Alex asked.

  John shook his head. “It was your guy this time. We intercepted another communication saying that his man was already en route to the hotel, and that Munoz was to stay out of it this time.”

  Alex’s eyes hardened as he nodded. "Do we know who he contracted?”

  “No.”

  "So we're flying blind.”

  "Nothing unusual there," John said. "Keep your eyes open and your head screwed on straight. You should be fine."

  John cast Beth a sideways glance. He obviously didn't think much of her head screwing on skills. She couldn't blame him. It wasn't what she was known for.

  “How are you holding up?” John asked. He sounded concerned, though Beth had the feeling he was more worried about her messing up his mission than with her welfare.

  “I’m okay.”

  The truth was, she was scared as hell. But at least she wasn’t panicking.

  "Do you have anything else?" Alex asked.

  "Not now," John said. "I'll be in touch if anything comes up." He turned and disappeared into the fading evening light.

  Alex led her back inside. "You all right?"

  She nodded. It was a lie, but what was she going to do? She had to be all right. There was no other option.

  "Ready for dinner?" he asked.

  Beth laughed a little. Her stomach was currently doing back flips. Her hands were shaking, and she was pretty sure that the burn she felt was stomach acid creeping up into her throat.

  "You bet," she said though she had no idea which wine paired nicely with bile.

  Chapter 11

  Every meal that Beth had sat down to in the last two days had been painfully awkward, and the rehearsal dinner was no exception. She endured stares and whispers, moments of uncomfortable silence. A whole buffet of social awkwardness.

  There were good moments too. Isobel had laughed with her. Spencer was seated at the other end of the table, and was, therefore, easy to ignore. And her mother had actually hugged her when she walked into the restaurant. It was as close to an apology as she was ever going to get.

  Even with Alex was next to her, Beth kept looking over her shoulder. He kept one hand on her the whole time. He was either holding her hand, cupping her knee, or had one draped over her shoulder. The message was clear.

  I am here.

  She was grateful for the reminder. His presence was the only thing that was keeping her sane. And not just because of ever-present assassination threat. He helped get her through the dinner with friends and family as well. No matter what, he kept smiling.

  It was an odd disconnect. Though everyone at the table thought that he was a man of questionable repute, they all clearly liked him. It was almost impossible not to like Alex when he turned on the charm. Of course, she still had to remember to call him Charlie. She found herself slipping more than once.

  A few people noticed and raised their eyebrows. Alex only winked. It was sweet. And sexy as hell.

  She was falling for him. Hard.

  It was a
stupid thing to do. Not because of what he did—he was one of the good guys, after all—and not because she feared that she might mess up his concentration, but because she knew he would leave.

  She figured she had about a fifty/fifty chance of making it through the weekend alive. She didn't want her dying thought to be that she didn’t grab every moment of sweetness that life had to offer. On the other hand, if she did somehow manage to walk away form this whole thing, she knew that Alex would be walking in the other direction. She was just a job to him. A job with perks, sure, but a job all the same. If she gave too much of her heart away, she knew she'd be crushed.

  Still, she'd suffered through broken hearts before. And with the help of a few sappy songs and more than a few quarts of Ben and Jerry's, she'd survived.

  But those guys hadn't been Alex. She wasn't sure anybody survived Alex. Not in any sense.

  At least her appetite had returned. Good thing too. The béarnaise sauce that was slathered over her chicken was phenomenal. Her mother tsked across the table at her as she soaked some up on a piece of bread. Beth just smiled back before popping it into her mouth.

  Her mother's disapproving stare didn't last long. Isobel stood at the head of the table and lifted her glass.

  "I want to thank everyone for coming today. Thanks to my parents and to my family who traveled here from all over the world. Thanks to all the Masterson family for welcoming me. And thank you to all my friends who have come to share in the celebration. But I'd like to give a special thanks to my lifelong friend, Beth Bradley. We've always been there for each other, ever since we were kids. We've had a lot of adventures, and more than our fair share of misadventures. I just want you to know I wouldn't give them up for anything, and I wish you all the happiness in the world."

  Beth felt her eyes begin to burn. Big, fat tears slipped down her cheeks, but she smiled as she lifted her glass.

  "Beth has been promising all week that she won't cry at the ceremony tomorrow. But I'm kind of hoping that she will. Big emotions are nothing to be ashamed of. Showing how you feel about the people in your life is nothing to hide. So go ahead and cry all you want, Beth. Just don't get any on my dress."

  A chorus of cheers went up at the table.

  Beth flashed a smile at her best friend. Just like that—just like the best friend that she was—Isobel helped Beth make up her mind.

  Beth finished her dinner, but didn't wait for dessert. She said her goodbyes, hugged her mom and kissed her best friend. She resisted kicking the legs of Spencer's chair out from under him as she passed by. She probably didn't need to make every emotion public.

  ***

  Alex took a good long look at Beth as the elevator doors shut. She was beautiful—even with red-rimmed eyes. She wore her emotions openly, and her failure to hide them made her gorgeous. She was naturally honest, even when she was lying.

  He knew why she didn't stick around for dessert. It had nothing to do with fitting into a dress tomorrow. And it wasn't because she was afraid. Earlier, he had felt her tremble when they first sat down, but now she was calm.

  She kissed him as soon as the doors of the elevator shut. There was no pressing urgency spurred by fear, or relief at still being alive. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately over his. She lifted her hands to his face, and pulled him closer.

  Her tenderness moved him. Just because the urgency was gone didn't mean the passion was. Desire grew within him as her tongue caressed his bottom lip.

  If she wasn't careful, he was going to take her right here in the elevator. What the hell? It was probably the safest place in the hotel right now. The only place that he was absolutely sure there wasn't anyone waiting to hurt her.

  He eyed the emergency stop button before disregarding the tempting idea. They would only have time for a quick tumble against the walls before the maintenance crew found them. That wasn’t the kind of night he wanted, and, based on the slow promise of her kiss, it wasn’t what she wanted either.

  Beth kept right on kissing him even after the elevator doors opened. He pulled away just long enough to walk down the hall. One of John’s agents was standing guard at the door of the stairwell. The man glanced his way, but didn’t acknowledge them in any way.

  But if he had made the agent, someone else would too. It was a hard balance. They needed the place well guarded, but it was difficult to pull off without being obvious.

  Not that Alex cared. Beth’s safety was the only thing that mattered. They would get this bastard some other way if they had to.

  He hurried her into the room and resumed their kiss. He pulled at his tie. She unzipped her dress and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Her feather-light kisses slowly stoked the fire building inside him. He slid his hands down from the curve of her waist, over her hips, to the flowing fabric of her dress. He walked his fingers up, lifting the material above the curve of her hips.

  She shook her head, breaking the kiss as she did.

  "Not here," she said.

  Alex had to blink a few times to see through the haze of desire.

  "Where then?" he asked, looking around the room.

  She smiled. "That tub. You know how much I want to be in that tub."

  A slow smile took over his face. Of course. It was perfect.

  He went into the bathroom and started the water. Steam swirled around the room as a cascade of warm water filled the antique tub. He slid his shirt the rest of the way down his arms.

  She stood in the doorway behind him, wearing only her bra and panties. Pink silk clung to her dramatic curves. Alex's mouth watered. She was the tastiest thing he'd ever seen, full and ripe and ready to be slowly savored.

  He went back to her kisses, wrapping his arms around her, reveling in the softness of her skin. With deft fingers, he unhooked her bra. He had to stand back to let it drift down to the floor. Her breasts were perfect. Full and round and begging to be kissed. Even in the wet warmth of the bathroom her nipples were hard and tight. He bent his head down and drew one into his mouth, twirling the hard nub with his tongue. Her head fell back against the door jam, and he was treated to the gorgeous sound of her pleasure-drenched moans.

  Dear God, he couldn't remember his cock ever being so hard in his life, and he didn't even have her pants off yet.

  He needed to rectify that. Now.

  He made his way down her belly, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He bent down on his knees before her, and hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties. With aching slowness he dragged them over her pale skin, exposing her pussy.

  She was trembling. He glanced up to see if it was anticipation or anxiety over being naked that had her shaking. A mixture of both, he decided. It was all right. He knew a way to take her mind off her fears.

  He wrapped his fingers around her left leg and draped it over his shoulder. She was beautiful. Every inch of her. Every part. He kissed her again, his tongue moving slowly between her lips.

  She tasted every bit as sweet as he'd imagined. He turned slow circles around her clit until her little moans were breathy and more urgent. Her hands curled into his shoulders, pressing him forward. She didn't mind asking for more of what she wanted. And he was only too happy to comply.

  Her legs started to shudder. He pressed his hands against her body to hold her upright. Her shaking became more intense, her moans more urgent, until he felt her break and loosen against him. Only then did he stop and rise to his feet.

  He didn't waste any time stripping off the rest of his clothes, and discarded them in a pile on the bathroom tile. He settled into the tub first. She followed, sitting down on his lap. Her legs nestled against his side. She slowly descended, taking him all the way in one stroke.

  Damn, she felt good. Soft and wet and everything that he’d ever wanted. Her legs were still shaky, and she moved slowly. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He was going to savor her. Every stroke. Every heartbeat. Every breath.

  He wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her. He d
idn't break the kiss. Not once. Not as the warm water surrounding their moving bodies sloshed over the side of the tub. Not as the pleasure of her body sliding against his grew until he felt as though he would lose himself entirely in her. And when he finally did break, he clutched her to him as if she were the source of everything he’d ever needed.

  ***

  Beth wrapped the hotel robe around her body. She'd finally relented and climbed from the tub. She couldn't stay in there forever. She was half prune as it was. And while Alex had shown her in every imaginable way that he had absolutely no problem with her body, she wasn't sure yet that she wanted to push the limits of his tolerance by going full prune on the poor guy.

  Water clung to her legs as she stepped out of the bathroom. Alex was already dressed...well, clothed...well, partially. He had on a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. It wasn't exactly evening wear, but dear Lord, he still looked sexy as hell.

  He looked up at her from the message he was reading on his phone and smiled. "Hey, sweetheart," he said.

  Hey, sweetheart.

  That was enough to make her a puddle on the floor. She was such a softie.

  There was a knock on the door. Alex's head immediately snapped up.

  "Room service," a voice from the other side said.

  Alex pulled his gun from the holster on the floor, and tucked it into the back waistband of his boxers. Only then did he go to the door.

  "We didn't order any room service," he said.

  "It's from a John Ryman. He called from down in the lobby. Said it was a shame you didn't stay for dessert and champagne. Figured you might want this after an hour or so." Even through the door, Beth could hear the laughter in the man's voice.

  "Come on," Beth said. "I seriously doubt that assassins knock."

  "Shows what you know," Alex said with a tilt of his head.

  "I can leave it outside if, you know, this isn't a good time," the voice said.

  Alex undid the chain. Then the two other locks that held the door secure. He cracked it open slowly, his hand never leaving the butt of his gun. After a second, he let the door fall open.