The Protective Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers

by Lucy McConnell

  “’Kay.” No hint of the tenderness she’d seen under the table remained on Noah’s face. His jaw was set and his face unreadable. Confused and more alone than she’d ever been, Harley longed for the familiarity of her home.

  “Julia, please stay close to the group until we find John,” instructed Noah.

  Mama grabbed Harley’s free hand, and they started across the open floor. Harley contemplated the buffet table and wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. She pressed her lips and decided dreams didn’t make your lips burn. Their kiss was more than hormones and physical attraction, though there was plenty of those two things racing between them. For just a moment under there, Harley had thought she’d experienced love—the deep and abiding kind. The kind that stuck together for sixty-plus years and laughed when life got hard and brought children into the world and saw grandchildren multiply. She thought she’d felt all of that in Noah’s kisses, and it broke her heart to think he hadn’t felt the same.

  Chapter 20

  Noah saw the approaching hurricane and refused to duck. Instead, he planted his feet as John stormed across the open grass, his eyes boring into Noah.

  The flashback he’d had under the table had rendered him useless, reduced him to little more than a piece of cement. Nothing like that had ever happened before, although his shrink had said it could—if he went back into the line of fire. Which was one reason he’d never done so.

  He’d shielded Harley with this body, but his mind had been in another time and place. If it hadn’t been for Harley’s soft words, soft skin, and soft lips, he might have stayed there.

  Harley had made the difference, and for that reason his job of protecting her became personal, making his blood pump through him with the force of a raging river. She’d seen his worst and given her best. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t allow John to suspect that he was less of a man, less of a guardian, than he’d professed to be. He had to pull it together and keep it together, but doing so required an amount of concentration that didn’t allow room for other emotions. If he softened, even just a little bit to answer the wounded look in Harley’s eyes, he’d crumble. Crumbling was not an option.

  John fisted the front of Noah’s jacket. “I saw you roll her under the table.”

  Noah looked pointedly at John’s hands and then lifted an eyebrow. “You said keep her safe. If that means rolling her under a table, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “I said hands off!” John shoved him, letting go of Noah’s jacket.

  Noah took one step back to steady himself, and then one step forward to assert his position.

  Harley stepped between them, her back brushing against Noah’s chest. Having her close was like flipping a switch on his built-up anger, turning it to desire. He longed to flip her around and fulfill her every want. If there had been a table close by, he might have done just that—father-in-law or no father-in-law. Noah mentally shook himself, but couldn’t shake his desires. He needed to change his focus.

  “Daddy,” Harley warned. John backed up a step, his mouth dropping open as Harley glared. “You should be thanking Noah. No husband has ever been more gentlemanly or protective.”

  At the word husband, John finally noticed the small gathering of guests who were openly staring at their family feud. He ran his hand along his silver hair. “Thanks, Noah,” he cut out.

  Julia slid her arm around John’s waist and whispered in his ear.

  Harley leaned into Noah, who wrapped his arms around her in a silent thank-you. She hoped his gentleness expressed that he was grateful for more than her stepping in and stopping a fight that could have ended badly. What had he been thinking? Arguing with his boss was a quick way to divorce court. If John fired him, who would watch over Harley? She was suddenly shaking.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed her head. “No one’s going to hurt you.” He repeated the words she’d used earlier, hoping she’d understand even a little bit of what she’d given him.

  Harley flipped around, putting her hands on his chest and laying her head on his shoulder. “It’s not that.” She sniffed. “I’ve never stood up to my dad like that. It kind of freaked me out.”

  “What, not even as a teenager?”

  Harley shook her head. “Never had to. I was ...” She fiddled with his button. “Something of a geek.”

  Noah rubbed circles on her back, and her quaking subsided. “Harley, I sincerely doubt you were ever a geek.”

  Her sad smile said she didn’t believe him. They had so much to talk about, so much to share. But this wasn’t the time nor the place, and Noah needed to get Harley home, where she was safe before he could address his issues.

  The police had arrived and were clearing individuals to head home one at a time. Guests emptied the zoo as fast as the valet parking attendants could bring their vehicles. The process went a lot faster once Julia instructed several of the wait staff to assist. She took her job as head of the fundraising committee seriously and used a tone of command that even the General had to admire. She and John worked together to get the place cleared out and assure guests that their safety was always a priority.

  Julia approached, a strained smile on her face. “The FBI have arrived, and they want the area cleared out in the next fifteen minutes.”

  Noah turned his attention on the growing number of blue suits and ties near the crime scene. Two forensic scientists were taking pictures of blood splatters on the paving stones. Agent Gonzales came into the lighted area and nodded to Noah before checking in with his superior. Noah inwardly groaned. There would be no conversations with Harley this evening; he still had some work to do.

  Noah turned to Harley. “Your turn.”

  “What?” Harley wrinkled her brow.

  Noah signaled for the valet to call their driver and sent a quick text to Wyatt and Stewart. “I have to talk to Gonzales and go to the station and interview the two men—I’ve got a long night.”

  Harley slipped her hand into his and sent heat bursting through his skin. “I’ll go with you.”

  Noah shook his head. Harley at a police station late at night was a bad idea. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it through without blanking out again, and he couldn’t stand to have her there if it happened. “It’s not safe.”

  Harley’s grip tightened. Noah suspected she was also digging in her heels, but he couldn’t allow her to come. There were too many variables he couldn’t control, and if he was going to give this his all, he needed to be able to focus without Harley distracting him—like she was now just by leaning into him.

  Wanting nothing more than to toss her in the back of the limo and tell the driver to get them lost somewhere while he explored Harley’s lips, Noah silently cursed. Shaking off her hand, Noah said, “I don’t want you here.” The words didn’t come out like he meant them. Instead of sounding concerned and careful, they were laced with his effort at self-control and therefore sounded hard. He tried to ignore the hurt in Harley’s expression. It was only there a moment, but it cut him to the quick. He opened his mouth to explain, but Wyatt arrived.

  “Got your text. Ready?” he asked Harley.

  “More than you know.” Harley turned a cold shoulder to Noah and slid into the back of the limo that had pulled to the curb.

  “Thanks for taking her home.” Noah clapped Wyatt on the back. There were a small handful of people he trusted right now, and Harley’s brother was top on the list. John would also keep his daughter safe, but Noah hadn’t wanted to ask for the favor.

  He shut the limo door behind Wyatt and adjusted his jacket before reentering the zoo. Gonzales wasn’t hard to find with his shiny bald head. Noah cleared his throat to get his attention.

  “Good, you stayed.”

  “I need to know about these guys.” Noah jerked his chin toward the dark path that the shooters used to enter the gathering.

  “From what we’ve ascertained, they were extremists. They’re linked to several websites promoting animal reser
ves and claiming that zoos are glorified abuse pits for animals. We think they were involved in the San Diego shut down in ’98. They’re a couple of weirdos.”

  “Weird enough to send music boxes to pretty girls?” asked John as he approached.

  Gonzales held up his palm. “We don’t have any indication that these men are the ones after Harley.”

  Noah put his fists on his hips and spread his feet. “I’m headed down to the station. Any chance you could get me in to interview at least one of them?”

  “Sure.” Gonzales shrugged. “I’ll make a call.” He stepped away to talk on his cell.

  “Do you think one of these men might be our guy?” asked John.

  Noah shook his head. “It’s a long shot, but I have to pursue it. Given your family’s involvement with fundraising for the zoo, there could be a connection.”

  John ran his thumb down his jaw. “I’m going to get Julia out of here as soon as possible. We’ll meet tomorrow morning. Where’s Harley?”

  “I sent her home with Wyatt. She needed to be in a safe place. Stewart is aware of the situation and he’s doubled the guard.”

  John eyed him a moment before saying, “Smart.”

  Noah considered it the closest thing to a compliment he would ever get from Harley’s dad.

  * * *

  In the wee hours of the morning, Noah slipped into his and Harley’s bedroom, only to find the light on and her reading a Kindle. Her hair was mussed, like she’d been tossing in bed. Or maybe he did that when they were under the table. Either way, she was amazing to behold.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “The shooters are weirdos, but they aren’t stalkers.”

  “Dang,” Harley whispered.

  Noah’s shoulders sagged. He’d spent the last hour throwing leading question after question at the two men who spouted off conspiracy theories as if they were gospel truths. Neither man knew more about the Wilson family than the fact that their names were on the guest list for the party, which the FBI was still trying to figure out how they’d gotten access to. Noah believed it to be something simple, like checking media reports on past events that listed notable guests. The Wilsons were definably notable. The time was a complete waste, and any fight Noah had had when he went into the room had been sucked out of him as a feeling of failure took its place.

  He’d failed Harley. He’d gone to the station, hoping to rid her of this cloud that hung over them, and he’d come back empty-handed. He’d allowed himself to believe that she’d still want him even after the stalker was behind bars, but he’d been delusional—high on the euphoria of kissing such a tough and beautiful woman. No, he’d gotten high on kissing Harley, not some faceless beauty.

  He ran his hands through his hair. Maybe it was a pity kiss. He’d certainly acted pitiful, zoning out like he did.

  “Will you get the light? I’m exhausted.” Harley turned off her Kindle and burrowed under the blankets while Noah turned out the light.

  Changing in the bathroom, Noah crept to his bed and worked to find a comfortable spot before finally admitting that the only place he would feel comfortable was next to Harley. Rolling over, he punched his pillow. Several times. What would a woman like Harley, who had everything, ever see in a washed-up cop-turned-camp-counselor like him?

  Despair hung heavily on his answer: nothing.

  Chapter 21

  Harley heard Noah push back his covers, and she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. He approached her bed, paused for a moment, and disappeared into the bathroom. This awkward morning routine was the new norm for them. Avoiding each other wasn’t easy when they shared a room, but somehow they’d managed it for a week. As long as she slept in, Noah came to bed late, and they stayed on opposite ends of the house, they didn’t have to talk about what had happened under the buffet table. To be honest, Harley still wasn’t sure. It seemed like a flashback, or perhaps a post-traumatic episode. She wanted to ask her dad but was worried about his reaction. If The General thought Noah was incompetent, he’d call in a new husband, and that was the last thing Harley wanted.

  She kind of liked the husband she had.

  It was comforting to hear Noah’s movements as he opened the medicine cabinet or the drawer where he kept his shaving supplies. The room held a hint of Noah’s cologne, bringing back the memory of his hands in her hair and his lips on her neck. She moaned and pulled a pillow over her head, wondering if she’d imagined the experience.

  Harley touched her lips. No way. I couldn’t imagine a kiss that good.

  The bathroom door opened with a soft click, and Noah exited the room. Harley threw off the pillow, shoved the blankets aside, and fought the urge to jump into Noah’s bed and bury herself in his scent. The coverlet was a poor replacement for Noah’s arms, but beggars can’t be choosers.

  After taking a quick shower, Harley landed in her home office. Since the shooting, she’d worked mostly from home. Noah wasn’t the only one freaked out by the splattered blood. Thankfully, no one was killed, but two guests had been shot, one in the leg and the other in the side. Agent Gonzales assured them all that the men responsible were not involved in terrorizing Harley, which was both good and bad news. Good news because she hated the idea of one of those creeps with the crazy eyes and unkempt hair even thinking about her, let alone having a pretend relationship with her. Bad news because that meant her creep was still out there.

  The desk phone rang and Harley picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hi, snickerdoodle, is Noah there?” asked Daddy.

  “I think he’s in the garage. Do you want me to go get him?” Harley bit her lip.

  “I just want his advice on these applicants. I’ll email him the résumés. Will you have him check them over?”

  Harley pulled the phone away and stared at it before asking, “Since when do you ask for advice?”

  Daddy chuckled. “Sweetie, when you find someone better at something than you are, you listen. Noah has a good head on his shoulders. He handled the situation the other night thoroughly. I wouldn’t have gone to the station to interview the shooters, but he did. It was instinct. He’s got a gut for this sort of thing, and I want to know what he thinks of these men before I hire them on.”

  “O-kaaaay.” Wow! High praise from The General. “I’ll let him know.”

  “Bye, pumpkin.”

  They hung up, and Harley reached for her cell phone to send Noah a text instead of face him in person. The doorbell distracted her, and she set the phone down before she could finish. Knowing Noah was probably in the garage and under the hood of that old rust bucket he called a truck, Harley hustled to the front door.

  Molly threw herself at Harley, wrapping one arm around her neck in an anxious hug, her other arm full of shopping bags. “Oh. My. Gosh. I am so glad you’re okay. I wanted to come earlier but couldn’t get passed Stewart.” She pulled back, her eyes alight with mischief. “He’s had this place locked down tighter than our freshman dorms.”

  Harley laughed. “You should have texted. I would have cleared you.”

  Molly waved her off and hurried toward the kitchen; Harley closed the door behind her and followed. “It’s no biggie. I got frisked by some guy that has muscles in places I didn’t know muscles could grow.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And since you’re under house arrest, I brought You’ve Got Mail, plenty of chocolate, and vanilla Pepsi.”

  Harley laughed at poor Ralf having to search Molly while she giggled and blushed. “How’d you know?”

  “Best friend intuition.”

  Harley’s hands stilled. “I haven’t been a very good best friend lately.” More like for the last year.

  “I will totally forgive you if you sit down with me, eat all this chocolate, and catch me up. I mean, you got married, for the love of Pete.”

  Unwrapping a Dove Moment, Harley kept her eyes on the silver foil. “It was all so sudden.”

  Molly’s hand went to her chest. “A
whirlwind romance. How amazing. Where did you meet?”

  “Um, my mom introduced us.” That’s stretchin’ the truth like a worn-out rubber band.

  “What does he do?”

  Harley choked on her chocolate. She couldn’t very well say that Noah married wealthy women in need of a bodyguard. “Mostly he works on his truck.”

  Molly’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t have a job?”

  “He moved here from California and hasn’t found anything.” Sort of a lie ...

  “Has he been looking?”

  “He’s been networking mostly.”

  As if his ears were burnin’, Noah appeared in the doorway. He stopped short when he saw Molly. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all, honey.” Even Harley could hear how false that “honey” sounded.

  “How are you doing?” He reached in the fridge and pulled out a vanilla Pepsi.

  “I’m good,” she said, drawing out “good” as she raked her eyes over Noah’s black T-shirt stretched over his well-defined chest.

  Noah popped the top on his drink and took a swig. “Thanks for the drink.” He winked at Harley before heading back out to the garage.

  “Okay, I was kind of doubting your judgment there—with the whole no job thing—but after that display, I can totally see what you see in him.”

  A spike of protectiveness went down Harley’s back, forcing her to sit up straight in her chair. Noah was her husband—temporary though he may be—and no woman, let alone a best friend, should check him out in front of her. She pushed away the candy.