by Jean Oram
Daphne shut her eyes. “I was just talking to Mistral before the incident. He swore he had nothing to do with the break-in, and he said he talked to Aaron. I don’t get it.” Tears threatened to fall. She still wanted to believe that Mistral had nothing to do with this attack, but how could he be that clueless about what his project partners were up to? Was everything he said to Daphne just a lie? Or was his life so out of control that he thought he was telling the truth?
“The break-in?” Her sisters stood as though connected by a string, their heads turning to her.
“When?” Maya asked.
“Are you okay?” Hailey asked. “What happened?”
They crowded around and Daphne sighed at letting that tidbit slip.
“Her house was broken into by a man sent by Aaron Bloomwood,” Evander said. “He was looking for any plans you might have against the Baby Horseshoe Island development.”
As the women gasped at the news, their boyfriends stepped back, heads down.
“You told the men, didn’t you?” Daphne asked Evander, staring at Finian, then Connor, and finally Tristen. They knew and had obviously kept it a secret from her sisters.
Protection. Keep the women in the dark. Alpha male crap.
Daphne stood. “I’m so tired of this.” She slammed her foot into the side of the metal table, making a loud enough clang that an officer poked his head inside the room to make sure everything was okay.
“We are not a bunch of stupid females.” She swiped her arms through the air. “Enough secrets. Enough.”
“You knew?” Hailey asked Finian.
Evander pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders rounded.
Finian nodded, saying, “Evander told us. We, the three of us, agreed not to tell you, as you’d worry. We’ve all upped security, though.”
“You men need to stop making decisions that affect my life without talking to me—and my sisters first. Do you understand? All this covering it up isn’t making anything better. It’s making it worse.”
The men looked sheepish as she collapsed into a chair, feeling drained. She turned to Evander, the one person she felt she could trust to keep it all together for her. Which was silly, seeing as he’d helped the guys keep secrets from her sisters, and tried to run her life. But then again, she doubted that he’d ordered the men to keep things from Hailey, Maya, and Melanie. Evander was all for everyone knowing what they were up against. Even when she didn’t want to listen to what he had to say.
Daphne looked around the room. Each of her sisters had someone who was helping her through this, so she didn’t have to face it alone.
Funny how none of them believed in the magical power of Nymph Island, and yet look at what the island had done for them this summer.
Daphne believed in the island’s magic, and where was her man? It definitely wasn’t Mistral, given his inability to follow his dreams and be himself. And it was certainly wasn’t Evander.
But for the moment, he’d have to fill the role. “Take me home,” she whispered to him, knowing she was too shaken up to drive herself safely. Too afraid of what might be out there waiting for her and her daughter if he wasn’t on hand as her shield. Because as much as she wanted to blame him for everything, that was incredibly unfair and she’d done it for too long. She had to start taking responsibility that she was, in fact, a big part of why this target was painted on her back.
Holding her elbow, Evander led her to the door.
“Wait,” Hailey said. “We need to sort things out.” She left Finian’s side, touching Daphne on the wrist. “Don’t leave.”
“Why were you talking to Mistral before the ‘accident’?” Melanie asked.
“I have an idea regarding the island.” Daphne added carefully, “I don’t think we should give up what we’re trying to accomplish, but I think there’s room for collaboration with Rubicore in order to meet in the middle.”
The room grew quiet.
Evander gave her a nod, as though to say this was her moment to step up and take charge.
“I know Mistral. I know his dreams. And I think I know a way that we can meld his need to prove himself to his father and our need for a good neighbor who honors the environment.”
Daphne turned to Evander, expecting him to recommend a restraining order again, instead of more talks.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, placing a hand on hers.
“Thank you.”
“He’s going to railroad you,” Maya warned.
“Mistral threatened you,” Melanie said. “When I filed suit against Rubicore and the municipality, he made verbal threats. He said you’re going to pay. That you knew he was Rubicore.”
Daphne sighed. Everyone kept getting hung up on that outburst, didn’t they? And while she understood where they were coming from, the man didn’t seem to be frothing at the mouth to have her killed. His business partner, however, seemed to be a different story.
“It’s okay, Melanie,” Daphne said quietly. “We’ve all made mistakes when the heat is on.”
“What do you think?” Connor asked Evander, drawing Maya closer to his side.
Evander paused, and for a second Daphne thought he was going to side with the majority. Instead, he looked her in the eye and said, “I made a promise to protect Daphne. She’s made it clear that doing it my way cramps her style, and I think she’s right. Things are escalating instead of improving.” The muscles in his jaw flexed, his collared shirt stretching and pinching over his crossed arms. He drew his lip under his chipped tooth for a moment, watching her. “I think she has good instincts. Even in war there are peace talks among countries. She needs to give this a try. If anyone can take the threat out of this man, I think it’s Daphne, if she’s willing to step up.”
“I am.” She reached over and squeezed his hand in gratitude. Go figure, that the army guy would be the one to understand what she was trying to accomplish.
“Can you keep her safe?” Tristen asked.
“I will do my best.” Evander turned to her. “As long as Daphne tells me her entire plan and allows me to help.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes, due to the shameful way she’d made it so hard for him to do his job for the past three days. But she’d finally learned her lesson. She wasn’t going anywhere without Evander until this whole thing was over and done with.
“Thanks,” she said to Tristen, her hand on the doorknob.
“For what?” he asked.
“For Evander.”
Tristen smiled. “Sometimes I get things right.”
“Wait.” It was Melanie stopping Daphne this time. “Where are you staying?”
“Toronto’s only a day trip if I have to go down to his offices to chat. But he’s been here a lot this month so maybe we could meet up somewhere nearby.”
“No, I mean you can’t stay alone in your house.”
“I’ve been staying with Connor lately,” Maya said, “and I’m giving up my rental at the end of the month, but for the next week you and Tigger could crash there if you want.” She frowned. “Although that’s still living alone.”
“She’s staying with me,” Evander stated.
“No, I’m not.” Daphne gave a laugh of disbelief. Her? With him? “I have no desire to live in your bunker, thank you very much, army man.”
“It’s not a bunker.”
“Nope.” She crossed her arms. “Not happening.” She might see that it wasn’t wise to leave his side, but she wasn’t upsetting Tigger’s world by moving them in with a man they barely knew.
Evander gripped Daphne’s arms, lowering himself so he could give her what she figured was his best listen-to-me glare. “You’ve seen how poor my relief staff is. What if Chuck had been on today when you’d decided to ditch the bodyguard?”
Daphne sucked in a breath, visions of the morgue floating through her imagination.
“And you were right. My mom needs me. But so do you. So does Tigger. It’s the only way to solve this problem.”
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Sometimes being a mom trumped everything else, didn’t it?
“I don’t want to hide out.” She really didn’t. She wanted Mistral to stop all this and protect his daughter. Because when it came right down to it, he was on Rubicore’s side and that side was against her and her family. He was choosing money over what should be his family.
Mistral’s father had raised him to be just like him despite Mistral’s contrary wishes. And the sad thing was it looked as though his dad was succeeding. Mistral had wanted to live a life that truly mattered, with people who knew how to share and spread their love, without limitations or conditions. Yet he was still living under his father’s thumb. She’d thought he’d been reaching out for help, but now she wondered if that had just been her own hopes clouding her judgment.
“If you’d be more comfortable with someone else protecting you we can make that arrangement,” Evander said. “Just say the word.”
The idea of someone else armed and watching her didn’t sit well. Evander was real. She trusted him and he was incredible with Tigger. If anyone was going to have their back she wanted it to be him, even if the idea of him being armed at the breakfast table didn’t particularly line up with her family values.
“I can keep you safe.” His tone was gentle now. Giving. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded, wishing he’d hug her or something. Crush her against that big chest of his and allow her to borrow his strength and determination for a moment. Today had proved that she couldn’t do it on her own, that she needed Evander.
“Can I continue to help you?”
She nodded again. “Please.”
“Settled,” he said, stepping back. He addressed the room. “You all have my contact info if needed, and I recommend tightening your security where you can. Be vigilant until you hear otherwise from me. In the meantime, you can find Daphne and Tigger with me.”
9
Evander parked the truck in his mother’s driveway and turned to look at Daphne and Tigger. How was this all going to work out? In the police station it had seemed like the no-brainer answer to a multitiered equation. But now he looked at the quiet old house and thought of all the complications that could arise. Daphne still had a job to go to, his mom still had radiation treatments, his brother was visiting and Tigger was one big ball of energy. There were going to be times where he’d be needed in more than one place. Never mind that sometimes he liked a little space and solitude to think. It was going to be similar to living in a submarine, but he’d been there, done that. He could do this.
“Right.” He opened his truck door, watching them exit the other side, thinking his mother would have his head for not going around and opening the door for them if she happened to peek out the window. He pulled the bags they’d packed back at their house out of the truck’s box and herded the Summers into the house.
He paused in the doorway, watching them take off their shoes.
He’d never had to protect a woman before, let alone a single mother, and his instincts to destroy anything in her way that could cause anything from a frown to an outright cry was alarmingly strong.
Still holding their bags, he wondered if he should teach them how to disarm the security system. Maybe show them where he kept his weapons. How many ground rules should he set? Should he tell them to stay out of his mom’s sitting room, so she’d have more space and quiet in the house? When he’d called Florence, she’d been elated at the prospect of them coming to stay, even teasing him about bringing home strays, something he used to do frequently as a kid.
“Evander?” Daphne lightly touched his arm, giving him a shock. “Are you sure it’s okay we stay here?”
“Of course. Plenty of room. Doors and windows are alarmed at all times. Kitchen is at the back. Your rooms are upstairs.” He glanced at Tigger, then crouched beside her. “Are you okay staying here and helping my mom? She isn’t feeling well and could really use your company.”
“I’m a good helper.”
Daphne stroked the child’s curls and nodded. “Very good helper.”
What on earth were they going to do, cooped up together for days on end? The kid was going to go bonkers from boredom and his mother was going to be worn-out in about five seconds flat.
“She’s sick, though, so she might need quiet times.”
“Okay,” Tigger whispered.
“I told your boss you were staying home for a few days,” he said to Daphne, leading them up the staircase while carrying their bags.
“Okay.”
He turned, having expected a fight.
“What?” she asked.
He said nothing, but pointed to the end bedrooms at the top of the stairs. “These are your rooms. I’m in this one.” He pointed to the room next to Daphne’s. “That one on the other end is my mother’s.”
His brother was going to have to stay on the basement pull-out bed. Was he even here yet? The house felt awfully quiet.
“Is your mom here, Evander?” Tigger asked, rolling up onto the balls of her feet.
“She should be downstairs.” He leaned over the small railing and hollered, “Mom? Are you home?”
“That’s not quiet time!” Tigger exclaimed.
“Down here,” Florence called. “Brick phoned. He’ll be here shortly.”
“Who’s Brick?” Daphne and Tigger asked at the same time.
“My brother, Kyle.”
“Is he like you?” Tigger asked.
“Not in the least.”
“Well, I should like him tremendously then,” said Daphne.
He glanced at her in surprise and she rewarded him with a mischievous grin.
“I want to see Granny Flo’s fairy yarn!” Tigger said, disappearing down the staircase in a flash, her bare feet slapping the wooden stairs.
“Is that okay?” Daphne asked. “Does your mother need quiet?”
“She’ll tell us if she does.” Probably. But he was going to have to come up with diversions so the girl didn’t overwhelm his mom. He paused, unsure whether he should take Daphne’s bags all the way into her room. A good host would, but in his mind the bedroom was already her space.
He entered the room, placing the bags on the floor by the far wall where they would be accessible, but out of the way. “Do you need anything else?” he asked, feeling awkward as he waited by the bed, unable to leave without pushing past her in the small room.
She was chewing on her bottom lip.
“Do you still have alarms on my house?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She nodded, thinking.
“A tracker on my van?”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer. “So then? What took you so long to get to me today?”
“My GPS doesn’t show all the roads. I had to take what turned out to be the long route.”
“Oh.”
She was so close her soft skin was brushing his, and he took her chin between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up so he could see her face. “Are you okay?”
She let out a shattered sigh and a tear broke free.
He pulled her to him and she collapsed against his chest, sucking strength from him.
This? It felt real. The most real thing since before his army days. Even his mother’s cancer didn’t feel like this. Scary, but not truly real. Holding Daphne felt genuine and he wasn’t sure why.
He gently stroked her hair as she hiccupped into his chest, trying to hold whatever it was inside.
This woman, with the world wrapped around her finger, needed someone to keep her safe. She was a seedling standing her ground in a raging storm. She needed a hand cupped around her, protecting her so she could grow and change the world, make it pure and full of light again. This was a job only he could do. He was made for it, and he’d do the best job he could.
“I’ll keep you safe, Daphne,” he whispered.
Her body shuddered in reply and he held her close, feeling her arms tighten around him. They could barely reach aro
und his chest, and she lowered them until they were wrapped around his waist. He kept stroking her curls, wondering what she was thinking, what she was feeling, what she needed. Her arms pushed between them, moving up his chest as he let her go, his hands reluctant to leave her welcoming warmth. Her palms drifted up to his face, the dark circles under her eyes enhanced in the dim light of the room. She cupped his jaw, her fingers tracing the scars that extended down the side of his neck.
Her lips parted to ask, and he pulled her hands away. “I was blown up. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Was it the war?”
“Afterward. Protecting someone. A prince.”
Her eyes darkened and she pulled away, horror flashing across her features.
“Daphne, I’ve been in many dangerous situations, and I’ve always known what I was getting myself into before taking a job. This situation is nothing like any of those, but I still know what I’m getting into.”
“You would allow yourself to get hurt protecting someone else? Someone who isn’t any more special than you are?”
He almost laughed at the idea of being more special than a prince, but stayed serious, drawing his spine straight as though about to salute an officer. “Yes.”
Her slim hand rested tentatively on his chest. “For me?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
She sprang on him, her feet leaving the ground as her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms hooked tight around his neck. Her lips landed hungrily on his and he caught her waist, holding her against him as she kissed him with tremendous need. He squeezed her to him as he instinctively turned to lower them onto the bed.
Her kisses lit a fire within him and he wondered why he’d never thought of the protecting-scared-women angle before. It was hot.
Invigorating.
As close to real as he could wrangle.
But Daphne. She was in a bad space and would regret this. This was a Molotov cocktail of emotions, adrenaline and fear. It was nothing more than those reactions spurring her forward, seeking a sexual outlet to ease the unfamiliar and overpowering emotions. He knew getting intimate would only be a temporary stopgap and that she’d feel uncomfortable around him if he let things go any further.