Shattered: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 4)

by April Wilson

  Sam’s an excellent bodyguard, plus he’s fun to be around. I’ve told Shane over and over that I don’t need a personal bodyguard here in the bookstore, but he insists. He says that as his girlfriend – fiancée, rather – I need protection. Personally, I think he’s overreacting. Howard Kline is gone from this Earth, thanks to Shane. To my knowledge, I have no other mortal enemies lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce. But Shane still insists I have protection whenever I’m in public.

  With the holiday season fast approaching, the store is bustling with shoppers. Erin’s already putting up holiday decorations and displays, and the customer lines are getting longer and longer each day. Since taking over the store, I’ve added four new check-out lanes to help keep the lines moving smoothly.

  I see Erin operating one of the check-out terminals now and give her a wave. She waves back with a smile on her face, looking like her usual happy and relaxed self now that the book club crisis has been averted. Our head of security, Mack Donovan, is lurking behind the sales counter not far from Erin’s side.

  Erin says something to Mack, and when he smiles down at her, she blushes. And I do mean down at her. Mack’s about six-four and built like a tank – all solid muscle – and Erin’s just a couple inches over five feet. He looks like a giant beside her.

  I glance at Sam. “Do you think Erin has a crush on Mack?”

  “Sorry, what?” Sam looks up from the muscle builder magazine he’s holding. I’m not sure if he’s reading the articles or staring at the ripped bodies in the photos. “Do I think Erin has what?”

  “A crush. On Mack. Do you think she does?”

  He gives me a tight smile. “Sorry, princess, my lips are sealed.”

  “Oh, my God! She does, doesn’t she? Does he know?”

  Sam shrugs. “I don’t think he does. I mean, he’s what... at least ten years older than she is.”

  “I think it’s more than that. She’s only twenty-two. He’s got to be at least Shane’s age.”

  “Okay, thirteen years then,” Sam says. “When Erin started kindergarten, Max was a senior in high school.”

  Mack gets called away by the front door security guard, and Erin watches wistfully as he walks away. The expression of longing on her face is undeniable.

  “Oh, dear,” I say. “This could be bad.”

  * * *

  I wander around the store, chatting with employees, most of whom I inherited from Fred Clancy when I took over the store. They’re a great group of people, and I really enjoy working with them. Since taking over as manager, I’ve made some changes, starting with giving everyone a ten percent raise and implementing paid sick and vacation leave for all of the employees, both full-time and part-time. The store is privately owned – by yours truly now – and it’s very profitable. I can afford it.

  As I walk through the magazine department and turn the corner into stationary and journals, I stop dead in my tracks. Luciana Morelli is standing not ten feet from me, perusing day planners. She hasn’t seen me yet, and I’m tempted to turn around and slink out of sight before she does. My pulse starts racing, thudding painfully in my chest at the sight of her. What is she doing here? She has to know I’d be here.

  Sam bumps into me from behind, his hands landing on my shoulders as he steadies both of us. “What’s wrong?” he says.

  I swallow hard, and my vocal chords are paralyzed.

  Sam squeezes my shoulders. “Beth?”

  I shake my head, not daring to speak, instead wishing I could just disappear. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to talk to her ever again. I take a couple of steps back, pushing Sam back, and he moves with me. And just as I’m about to turn away, Luciana turns in my direction and stares right at me. If looks could kill, I’d be in serious trouble.

  “I heard you work here,” she says, walking toward me, looking as haughty and gorgeous as ever in a form-fitting emerald green sheath dress. “Frankly, I found it hard to believe, so I thought I’d come see for myself.”

  “What are you doing here?” I say.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Sam says indignantly, speaking right over my head. “Can I help you?”

  Luciana can’t be any older than Sam is, at twenty-eight, but the way Sam said ma’am made it sound like she was well past middle age. I have to bite my bottom lip not to chuckle. Sam’s the perfect guard dog.

  Luciana glances past me at Sam. She studies him for a moment, eyeing him like he’s a piece of meat and she’s hungry for protein. “I might be tempted to let you try, stud.”

  Then her gaze returns to me, calculating and cold. “He’ll tire of you soon enough, you know,” she says, and I know she’s not talking about Sam. “It’s his pattern. When he tires of his current plaything, he moves on. Every. Single. Time.”

  My heart is in my throat, and I feel sick again. I’m so tempted to have her thrown out of the store. All I have to do is say the word, and Sam will have her out the door in a flash. But I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she’s riled me.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I say, giving her what I hope is a calm, professional smile. “I have to get back to work.”

  * * *

  As I walk away from Luciana, Sam is right on my heels.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” he says, coming up beside me. “Wasn’t that the bitch from the club the other night?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  But Sam is determined. “Who is she?”

  I huff out a breath. “Her name is Luciana Morelli. She’s an ex-girlfriend of Shane’s.”

  “Whoa,” he says. “I’ll admit she’s hot, but what a bitch!”

  Sam’s assessment makes me chuckle. “We had an unpleasant run-in a few months back, and Shane had to intervene. Honestly, I’m surprised to see her here. Surely she knows I own Clancy’s now – it’s been in all the papers. Why would she come here?”

  “To cause trouble, no doubt.”

  I catch myself absently twisting my engagement ring. I look down at the thin gold band with its small diamond and smile. Shane knows me so well.

  “I’m guessing Shane wouldn’t be happy if he knew she was here,” Sam says.

  I laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

  Chapter 10

  Shaken by Luciana’s presence in the store, I do my best to ignore her and get back to work. But I’m not doing very well at the ignoring part. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck are prickling, and I feel like I’m being watched. A couple of times, I glance around, looking for her, half-expecting to see her, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Great, now I’m getting paranoid.

  Sam glances over at me from where he’s standing with Mack Donovan, the two of them deep in discussion about something – probably something to do with sports. He gives me a questioning glance, and I give him the thumbs-up sign. Yeah, don’t mind me. I’m just freaking out over here.

  I wander around the store, straightening shelves and answering customers’ questions, and finally start to relax. Shane will be here any minute to pick me up for our lunch date, so I run upstairs to grab my sweater and purse from my office so I’ll be ready when he gets here. On my way back downstairs, I pause at the balcony railing that overlooks the main entrance of the store. Heavy customer traffic streams in and out of the main doors, and in the shuffle I spot a beloved face.

  The sight of Shane walking through the doors makes my heart flutter, and I smile. I hope I never take this feeling for granted – never take him for granted.

  He’s dressed in his usual work attire – a charcoal gray suit, custom tailored to fit his broad shoulders, a white dress shirt, and a black tie. I can’t help remembering back to the first time I ever saw him, right here in this bookstore. He caught me reading an anthology of spanking stories, and I blush even now to think of it. I was utterly mortified! I can’t image what he was thinking at the time. But he took it all in stride in his patient, easy-going way. He chipped away at my anxiety, bit by bit, weathere
d numerous anxiety and asthma attacks on my part, and slowly eased his way into my life, into my bed, and eventually into my heart.

  I watch him for a moment, as his gaze systematically scans the first floor of the bookstore. Even though he left the military over a decade ago, he still has an air of methodical discipline about him. I know he’s looking for me, and the thought brings butterflies to my stomach. I still have trouble believing this man loves me. He’s so far out of my league – maybe that’s why I feel so intimidated by the thought of his past lovers. I can’t hold a candle to any of them, least of all Luciana. But for some reason, he wants me.

  “Are you just going to stand here ogling him?”

  I jump at the sound of a friendly male voice directly behind me.

  Sam nudges me gently with his elbow. “Prince Charming has arrived. What are you waiting for?”

  I nudge Sam right back. “Is it weird if I like to stand up here admiring him from afar?”

  Sam scoffs. “Of course it’s not weird. The man’s totally drool-worthy. Who wouldn’t want to stare at him?”

  When I glance downstairs again, Shane’s smiling up at me. God, he’s devastating when he smiles.

  “That should be a crime,” Sam says, as if he’s reading my mind.

  I chuckle, elbowing him. “I know, right?”

  Sam accompanies me down the stairs as Shane strikes up a conversation with Mack at the foot of the staircase.

  “Don’t mention Luciana, okay?” I murmur to Sam, halfway down the stairs.

  Sam raises a curious eyebrow. “Why?”

  “There’s no point in upsetting him.”

  “He’d be mad that she was here?”

  I nod. “Definitely. The last time she harassed me, he threatened her.”

  Sam frowns as he glances at Shane. “That’s all the more reason why I have to tell him. Sorry, princess.”

  When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Shane pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. My stomach is in knots.

  Shane and Sam shake hands.

  “How was your morning, sweetheart?” Shane says, smiling down at me.

  “It was fine.”

  “Good,” he says, slipping his arm around my waist.

  “Well, not entirely,” Sam says, looking from me to Shane and back.

  Shane looks at Sam, suddenly all business, and his voice takes on a bossy edge. “Why? What happened?”

  Sam looks at me. “You wanna tell him, or should I?”

  “Tell me what?” Shane says, his patience slipping.

  I sigh. “It’s nothing, really.”

  Shane tightens his arm around me. “Beth.”

  I take a deep breath and resign myself to the inevitable. “Luciana Morelli was here in the store this morning. That’s all.”

  Shane is perfectly still for a moment, as my words sink in. His jaw tightens, and I can feel the tension in his arm. “Did she speak to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did she say?” His gaze hardens. “Exactly.”

  I shrug. “I don’t remember exactly.”

  He gives me a look, one that says he knows I’m deflecting.

  “All right. She said something to the effect that when you get bored with me, you’ll go crawling back to her.”

  Shane scrubs his hand over his trim beard. “I’ll talk to her.” Then he looks at Sam and Mack. “This place is off limits to Luciana Morelli. If you see her in here again, remove her from the property immediately.”

  Sam nods. “Got it.”

  “And if she resists, or causes a scene, call the police and tell them we’re charging her with trespassing. She’s not welcome here.” Shane turns his attention back to me. “Now, how about lunch?” he says, taking my sweater from me and helping me put it on. “Shall we go? I have a cab waiting out front.”

  Out on the sidewalk, Shane opens the rear passenger door of the cab for me and helps me in.

  I have the feeling I’m being watched again, and when I glance around, I spot Luciana staring at us from across the street. Immediately, she turns and walks away, melting into the crowd, but not before I caught a glimpse of sheer hatred on her face. It happened so quickly, I can’t help wondering if I imagined it.

  Shane takes my hand and squeezes it as he tells our driver the destination.

  “We’re going to your office for lunch?” I say, a little surprised.

  He nods. “I’m having lunch catered at my office so we can have a little privacy.”

  That makes me blush. I can just imagine what he wants privacy for. There’s a small apartment adjoining his office, and we’ve been known to make use of it on occasion during his workday.

  “So, what’s the surprise?” I say.

  He leans over and kisses me. “You’ll see.”

  As we pull away from the curb, I glance out my window once last time, but Luciana is long gone.

  “Everything okay?” Shane says.

  “Yes, fine.”

  He eyes me skeptically, and I know he can see right through me. I’m a terrible liar.

  Chapter 11

  The cab pulls up to the front of Shane’s building and we head upstairs to his office on the 20th floor.

  His executive assistant, Diane Hughes, greets me warmly. “Hello, Beth.” Then she looks at Shane. “The caterers are setting up in your office now.”

  “Perfect. Thank you, Diane,” he says. “Please hold all calls until I tell you otherwise.”

  She nods. “Got it.”

  We walk inside his office to find a small round table set for two, with a white damask tablecloth and two elegant place settings laid out. On the table is a bottle of red wine chilling in a bucket of ice and a pair of white tapers in gold candlesticks. A young woman dressed in black slacks, a white blouse, and black tie is tending to warming trays set up on the credenza.

  Shane holds out a chair for me at the table, and I take a seat. “Thank you,” I say, looking around at all the fine touches. “What’s the occasion?”

  He gives me a smile as he takes his own seat. “I wanted a little privacy for our lunch, that’s all.”

  The caterer serves us Italian Wedding Soup, grilled chicken and pesto over linguini, and steamed vegetables, while Shane pours the wine.

  “And for dessert,” the young woman says, “we have a dark chocolate mousse cheesecake.”

  Now I know he’s trying to butter me up for something. Dark chocolate is my kryptonite.

  After she serves us, the caterer quietly leaves the office after promising to come back in an hour to clean up.

  “Okay, out with it,” I say after tasting the soup, which is amazing.

  He chuckles. “I swear, there’s no ulterior motive,” he says, and then he takes a sip of wine. “Can’t I just have a nice, quiet lunch with my fiancée?”

  “You went to an awful lot of trouble just for us to have lunch. Something’s on your mind.”

  He sets his wine glass down and sighs. “Well, there is something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  I knew it. He’s up to something. “What?”

  He grins. “Don’t sound so suspicious. If my source is correct, what I have to say will make you happy.”

  “Your source? Who’s that?”

  “Lia.”

  “Oh.” And then I know what this is about. It’s about our wedding plans. It’s about my reluctance to stand up in front of a crowd of over three hundred people. Lia’s the only one I’ve confided that to.

  He reaches across the table for my hand and squeezes it. “Hey, don’t worry. This is a good thing, I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Lia said it would be.”

  I knew it! “What is it?”

  “She told me you’re anxious about the size of the wedding guest list. That you don’t want to stand up in front of all those people. That you’d be happier if we eloped.”

  My heart starts pounding, and I can feel my face heating up.

  “Is that true?” he says
.

  All I can do is nod. I feel terrible. He’s done so much for me, and I don’t want to disappoint him because of my anxieties.

  “Okay, then,” he says, pulling his phone out of his suit pocket. He holds it up to me. “I can make a call and have one of the jets prepped and ready for take-off this afternoon. We can fly to Las Vegas, just the two of us, and be married this evening. From there I’ll take you anywhere in the world you want to go for a honeymoon. Hawaii, Paris, London, Rome. All you have to do is pack a bag and tell me where you want to go. What do you say?”

  I stare at him, speechless.

  “Sweetheart?”

  “You aren’t disappointed? I mean, you’d be okay if we skipped the big wedding plans and just eloped?”

  He laughs, squeezing my hand. “No, I’m not disappointed. Honey, it’s you I want, not a big wedding. I don’t care how we get married. I’d happily marry you right this second, right here in my office, if I could.”

  My thoughts are racing now that he’s offered to bypass all the formalities. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? What about all your friends and business associates?” Shane has important connections all over the city and in the state.

  “Don’t care,” he says. Then he points at my plate. “Your lunch is going to get cold, honey. Please eat.”

  But eating is the last thing on my mind right now. A tremendous weight has been lifted off my chest, and I feel downright giddy.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to have a wedding,” I tell him, wanting to clarify. “I just don’t want such a big one. I want our families to be there, and our close friends. I was thinking more like twenty people, and not several hundred.”

  He takes a bite of his food and nods. “Okay.”

  “And your parents! My God, we can’t get married without them. Your mother would never forgive us.”

  “Agreed. So, what do you want to do? We could go to the courthouse and get our license today, and then get married when my parents get home. We just need someone to officiate. How about Cooper? Cooper could get a license to perform our wedding.”

  “Cooper? But how can he – ”