The Protective Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers

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The Protective Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Page 11

by Lucy McConnell


  Chapter 19

  Harley paced her room. Her beaded, golden gown reflected tiny dots of light over the walls as if she were a living disco ball. Three weeks ago, she’d gone through much of the same routine she’d accomplished this afternoon. Her stylist and esthetician had arrived in plenty of time to do her hair and makeup, pampering her as they twittered on about Zoe’s new Prada bag and the video capabilities of a Samsung phone versus an iPhone. Harley couldn’t escape the idea that they’d had much the same conversation the night the music box and its cryptic message had arrived and turned her life on its ear. Now, instead of being single and semi-dating Jeremiah—a man she now knew she didn’t love and probably never would have—she was married to a man who made her insides quiver with one touch and yet wouldn’t ever settle down.

  Added to her thoughts about Noah was the constant feeling of being watched by her stalker. Even if she wasn’t married to Noah, she’d never be able to lead a normal life—or have a normal marriage—when someone was out to kidnap her. She couldn’t spend all her days locked behind the compound gates; that was no life at all.

  There was a light knock at the door, followed by her mom asking, “Can I come in?”

  Harley pulled open the door and waved Julia into the room. Julia was resplendent in her royal-blue and silver gown. Her hair, always the same shape, had recently been highlighted, and her cheeks were pink with just the right amount of blush. “Are you ready?”

  Harley shook her head, her hair soft against her bare arms. “I was just about to put on my jewelry.”

  “We’re wasten’ daylight, pumpkin.” Mama followed her into the walk-in closet, where a large mahogany jewelry armoire occupied the back corner. On top was a single sheet of paper with a blue post-it note and a blue velvet box.

  Harley couldn’t remember ever seeing it there before. She picked up and read the note.

  For the woman who has everything else.—Noah

  The thick cardstock was a certificate listing the coordinates for a star that now bore her name.

  “What’s that?” asked Mama as she took it from Harley’s fingers. She read over both the note and the certificate as Harley opened the box with shaky hands. Inside was a platinum star the size of a half-dollar, hanging from a beautiful and delicate chain.

  Harley brushed the simple adornment with her fingers. It was so Noah that it took her breath away. She never would have asked for jewelry, having more than she could wear in a lifetime inside the chest and the wall safe hidden behind it, but she wanted this necklace with a fierceness that shocked her. She quickly found a pair of platinum hoops to go with it.

  Mama cleared her throat and slowly set the paper on top of the armoire, and appraised Harley. “Hmm. I think you’d better spill. I need some time to prepare your father before we drop this on him.”

  “There’s nothing to drop.” Harley widened her eyes in an attempt to look innocent.

  She didn’t fool Mama, who made a talking motion with her hand.

  “Seriously. We’re not … anything.”

  “Darlin’, I may look older than dirt, but I certainly ain’t dumber than it.”

  Harley laughed. Mama, though in her sixties, didn’t resemble a day over forty. “Please. At the rate we’re aging, I’ll catch up to you in five years.” Harley moved to the shoe section of the closet. This area, with the many options in heels, boots, flats, sandals, and basic comfort wear, was her absolute favorite.

  “You will not sweet-talk your way out of this one.” Mama’s eyes flew around the room, and Harley saw the shift in her tactics. “Come on. Your sister’s halfway around the world—you’re all I’ve got for girl talk.”

  Harley pulled up short. Just the other day Harley had bemoaned her lack of close girlfriends. She texted Paige several times a day, often wondering if she sounded as desperate for female companionship as she actually was. Paige was fantastic though. Never once did Harley feel like she was putting Paige out or bothering her. Because of Paige’s easygoing nature, Harley even dared asked about Noah—a few things, little things. Things that weren’t too personal in nature. The guy Paige knew wasn’t the same one Harley imagined Noah to be. It made her want to spend more time with him to see if the man who was raised in a family of ten, who mentored teens, and was Addison’s favorite uncle was really the man who slept less than fifteen feet from her every night.

  Focusing on Mama, Harley wondered if she was lonely in this life. The money they had often segregated them from others. “Okay, Mama. We were opening gifts the other night, and Noah asked me if I could have one present, what would I want it to be? I didn’t have an answer, so now he’s trying to guess.”

  “But you do have an answer, don’t you?” Mama prodded.

  Harley nodded.

  “Well, I hope he figures it out.”

  “You aren’t going to ask me what that is?”

  Mama smiled. “I have a feeling we would ask for the same thing—only I’d want a generation between me and the gift.” Mama gave her a hug and went to the door. “Are you comin’? The party can’t start without me.”

  So Mama knew Harley’s wish. A feeling of foolishness sat down and picked up its knitting. She’d never be able to bring a child into this world. He or she would become a target just like Harley. There were no pink blankets and blue bibs in her future, because there was no security in her life. “Of course.” Harley hooked her silver peek-a-boo sandals over her fingers and followed Mama down the stairs, out the open door, and into the waiting limo. She would enjoy tonight, because in the long run—and the short run—it might be all she had.

  * * *

  Memories of the last time they had all ridden to an event together scratched at Harley’s mind and competed for attention as she tried to follow Wyatt and Noah’s conversation about truck RPMs and pulling capacity.

  Noah looped his arm over the back of the seat behind Harley, causing her heart to flutter as she smelled his spicy aftershave. She was still enjoying it every morning before she showered, and every time he rode in the elevator with her, and every time he brushed near her at home, and pretty much every chance she got.

  “My brother-in-law has a dealership. He could hook you up,” Noah offered.

  “Cody?” Harley asked.

  Noah turned to her. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

  Harley fiddled with her phone. How much had Paige told Noah about their texting? “I sent Paige that information on the boots and, um.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “We chatted a little.”

  One side of Noah’s lips lifted in this lopsided, pleased smile. Not the kind of pleased where he thought he’d gotten the best of her, but the kind where his heart was happy. The difference was alarming in the effect that smile and his dimples had on Harley’s breathing patterns.

  “I wouldn’t mind going to California for a bit when this is all said and done.” Wyatt leaned over to gain Noah’s attention. “We could make it a road trip.”

  “A road trip?” John adjusted his tie. “Why not just fly?”

  Wyatt started in on the adventure of a long drive, but Harley wasn’t listening to him. She was wondering if she should lean into Noah a little, or if sitting here like a cardboard box—in front of her parents—was the best idea. Noah took the question right out of her hands as he leaned close, his breath tickling her ear and neck, right where his necklace lay in broad sight. “Was I close?”

  For a moment, Harley considered saying yes—for Noah’s sake. He was trying to make her happy, and the star-thing was pretty amazing. In the end, when she met his golden-brown gaze, she couldn’t lie to him, so she shook her head.

  His fingers settled on her bare shoulder, and Harley thought she might pass out from not breathing. “I’ve got a few more ideas.”

  “I’ll bet you do.” Harley grinned.

  “We’re here,” Daddy announced, and Harley watched him and Mama climb from the car. She and Noah went next, and Wyatt brought up the rear.

  Noah took he
r hand without asking and kept her near with a straight, stiff arm. Daddy turned around twice to check on her, and Wyatt kicked the back of her heel because he was so close. Once they were near the reflection pools, the group loosened up and the claustrophobic feeling evaporated into the canopy of oak trees.

  The still water in the pools reflected the hundreds of luminaries floating on the surface. Tables, covered in white linen and staggered for mingling, were topped with tapered candles and fine china. Each tree had hundreds of twinkling lights, and there were a few brighter lights placed strategically throughout the open grassy area to the right. A small orchestra situated on the terrace played Mozart, the conductor leading them firmly through the more difficult stretches.

  With her hand tucked into Noah’s arm and the warm spring breeze on her skin, Harley breathed a sigh of contentment. She could spend the whole evening in this one moment.

  Noah pointed to the buffet tables, where shrimp, oysters, crab cakes, and so much more were displayed on white serving dishes. “Why don’t we start over there?”

  Starving, Harley agreed. Noah placed his hand on her lower back, and this time Harley did lean slightly into him.

  “Holy Hannah, I didn’t expect to see you two here.” Molly pulled Harley into a hug, breaking her away from Noah and drawing attention from the people chatting quietly around them.

  “Molly, what a stunning dress.” Harley offered Noah an apologetic smile.

  He took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, letting her know he wouldn’t hold the delay to food against her. Harley marveled that they had learned to communicate without words.

  Then an alarming thought hit: what if he knew she was … gulp … attracted to him? And who wouldn’t be? Noah was a fine specimen of the species. It had been two weeks since they’d kissed, and she still caught herself daydreaming about it. She could feel the way her wedding dress caressed her skin and remembered the way she felt like a queen in his arms.

  Molly beamed and tugged Harley close. “I thought you’d be on your honeymoon.”

  Harley leaned back toward Noah, unsure how to answer.

  “We’re nesting.” Noah stared at her adoringly, sweetly adoringly, as if she were the jewel of his collection. It made Harley want to punch him right in the gut, it was so overdone.

  But his explanation appeased Molly, who brightened. “Since you’re in town, we should go to lunch.”

  There was no way Harley was getting clearance to hit some random restaurant, not without Noah in tow. “Ya know, maybe a movie night would be better. At my place,” she hurried to add.

  Molly pouted. “Just the girls?”

  “Of course,” agreed Harley. She didn’t need Noah hanging over her shoulder while she fielded questions about their courtship and marriage. If Molly pressed, even a little bit, Harley was sure to spill her guts about Noah’s advanced kissing abilities or his incredible body.

  “Yeah!” Molly clapped her hands and bounced like an overexcited cheerleader. Harley laughed. A girls’ night would be fun. “I’ll bring the Phish Food.”

  Harley hadn’t restocked her freezer with Ben and Jerry’s since Wyatt cleaned her out. “Perfect. It will be just like old times.”

  Molly’s eyes darted to a spot on the other side of the room. “There’s my date. Gotta run. I’ll see you later.”

  “How do you know her, again?” asked Noah as he steered her, a bit more determinedly this time, toward the buffet table.

  Harley picked up a plate. “We went to the same high school and roomed together at college.”

  “So you drifted apart?”

  “No, we’re still close.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Then who’s her date?”

  “Ummmm.” Harley tapped her nail on the bottom of the plate.

  Noah’s dimples appeared. “Busted.”

  “Hey, that’s not a fair question. I’ve been busy the last week or so.”

  A commotion started on the other side of the pool, by the entrance. Noah stretched to see over people’s heads just as gunshots rang out, the sound ricocheting off the pool.

  Before Harley could process the sound of a gun going off inside the crowded space, she hit the ground, Noah’s weight on top of her. His hand cradled her head and saved her from a nasty bump, and his other arm slowed their fall. He glanced right and rolled the two of them underneath the table, where they were hidden from view by the long white tablecloth.

  With the rolling, Harley had grabbed his collar in both hands and held tight. They both froze, Noah shielding her with his body.

  “Gunshots,” she whispered.

  Noah nodded, his cheek brushing hers. After a moment of silence, there was shouting. Noah moved to get off of her, but Harley pulled him back down. “I have to help,” he insisted.

  “Stay,” she begged. She didn’t want Noah out there where people were shooting guns and who knew what else. She wanted him here—with her.

  “Harley,” he warned.

  Harley picked a card to play that wouldn’t reveal her true fears. “You’re paid to keep me safe. If you leave—”

  “All those people …” He lifted up on his elbow, his eyes even with her. “I can’t just sit here.”

  Harley threw her arms around his neck, loving the way it felt to be near him, to hold him close, to believe he was hers. “What if something happens to you?”

  “Aww, you do care.” Noah’s cocky grin blossomed, and Harley almost felt like shoving him out from under the table ... almost. What she really wanted to do would scandalize them both. Her pulse quickened, and she moved her hands to Noah’s cheeks.

  There was a scuffle, shouting, two more shots, a masculine scream, and then the area went quiet as death. Whatever it was, it was over, the finality sweeping through the air and invading her delicious thoughts about Noah. “I think we can go out now,” she said, keeping her voice low just in case.

  Noah squeezed his eyes shut. He supported most of his weight on his forearms while his body quaked on top of her. “Not yet. Just, just give me a minute.”

  Harley heard Wyatt calling her name, but all she cared about was the way her husband clung to her.

  “Noah?”

  “I can’t. Not again.” He shook his head.

  “Again?” Harley asked.

  Noah didn’t respond. His breathing was rapid, and when he opened his eyes, they were empty.

  “Noah?” She shook his shoulders. “Noah!”

  There was no response.

  Realizing the sounds had triggered a bad memory and possibly sent Noah into some form of post-traumatic stress, Harley wrapped her arms around his back and tucked his face into her neck, where his warm breath brushed her skin. Her hands pulsed and warmed as her fear for him increased. What could possibly happen to make the strongest man she knew quake? Pressing her cheek to his, she tried to send comfort through contact.

  “You’re safe, Noah,” she whispered, hoping to drown out the chaotic footsteps and yelling as people searched for their loved ones just beyond their cocoon. They stayed that way, Noah stiff and jerky and Harley truly scared for the first time since she learned how to hold a rifle.

  Noah’s shaking slowly abated, and he lifted his face, their lips almost touching. Harley searched his eyes; his pupils were huge, but there was substance there once again. He was back. Wherever he had gone to, whatever demon he faced, he had returned. Relieved beyond measure, Harley traced his jawline and breathed in his spicy scent.

  Without a word, Noah buried his face in her neck and kissed her. Ever so softly and slowly, he made his way to her cheek as his fingers threaded into her hair, starting a deep burn in her belly. This is how a man is supposed to be sensitive. Harley met him halfway to where their lips collided and allowed herself to drown in Noah’s embrace. Arching into him, she demanded more, and he gave everything she asked for and then some before breaking away to kiss her jaw and brush his lips against her earlobe. He reclaimed her lips, and
Harley gave herself over to the thrill of being in his arms.

  Moments later they broke apart, gasping for breath, and Noah brushed his fingers across her cheek. Something passed over his face, a vulnerability at having exposed his inner terrors. He kissed her neck one more time before pulling himself up and rolling out from under the table.

  Harley lay on her back on the cold grass, feeling at once cherished, excited, and abandoned. She wanted Noah back under here with her. Reaching for his leg, she paused when she heard Mama’s frantic voice: “Where is she?”

  “She’s safe.” Noah’s hand appeared under the tablecloth, and Harley took it, loving the way he squeezed it just enough to let her know he was thinking about the kiss too. She was careful to make sure her dress was in place before she faced her mother. Not that Noah had roamed anywhere she’d consider out of bounds; in rolling under the table, things got a little ruffled. Confident she wasn’t going to pull a wardrobe malfunction, she shimmied out and stood up as ladylike as possible, and was suctioned into her Mama’s arms.

  Wyatt appeared. “Activists. They had a target but didn’t get very far.”

  “Anyone hurt?” Noah’s eyes hooded over. Harley wondered what he’d gone through that had terrorized him so, and what being here, right now, with her, was costing him. She clung to his arm in an effort to give strength and satisfy the part of her that wanted to throw Noah back under the table.

  “Two guests were shot and both gunmen, but no one is dead.”

  Noah nodded once. He put his arm around Harley and pulled her close to his side. Harley didn’t mind. She eased right into a spot that felt like it had been carved specifically for her. Despite the way he blanked out, Harley trusted Noah with her life. He’d shielded her with his body and then branded her with his kisses.

  “We’ve got to get Harley out of here. We don’t want someone taking advantage of the chaos and slipping away with her.” Noah raked his gaze over her face, and Harley eagerly met his gaze only to find his eyes void of any sign that what had happened between them affected him. He was suddenly a boy in blue ready to take on the bad guys, and Harley was his assignment. No dimples teased. No cocky half smile. None of the things she’d grown to love in Noah were a part of the man standing next to her. Harley struggled with the difference. “Stay close to my side, and if I tell you to run, follow Wyatt.”

 

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