Three of the four, he didn’t care about, but the fourth—if he was to stay alive, he had to get the statue before his boss caught up with him.
Bloody Grace. She’d pay for this bit of treachery.
9
JEFF REACHES OUT
“What is your official verdict on the dinner?” Cullen asked, taking in Grace and the rest of the diners in the busy pub restaurant. They stood at the desk, waiting for a waitress so they could pay for their meal. “Good, bad, or indifferent?”
“The blue cod was delicious. It’s hard to beat fresh fish. My meal was tasty pub fare. Not terrible, but it won’t make my all-time top five meals either.”
Cullen nodded at her verdict and reached for her hand once he’d sorted out the check.
Bemused, Grace let him clasp her hand. Outside, it was dark with a dozen streetlamps illuminating the footpath beyond the pub. Cullen tugged her along the waterfront and they left the pub behind. The whoosh of waves relaxed her, and she realized she hadn’t felt this contented for months. Cullen’s hand was warm in hers, and she was glad he walked at her side. Once they passed the school and the Kai Kart, the streetlamps ended. She’d brought a torch with her but had left it in their room.
“You ready to handle the hill?”
“After the champagne and the wine at the pub, I can do anything.” She punctuated this with a giggle. “I truly can do anything.”
“You can,” Cullen murmured. “Why didn’t you get your own place after you finished the contest? What made you decide to return to your job?”
Grace sighed. “I didn’t think I was good enough.”
Cullen’s fingers tightened on hers. “That wasn’t what you told me before I left last time.”
“Yeah, I know. I started going out with Jeff not long after you left. He talked me into keeping my current job and not spending the money I’d saved.” Oops, she was breaking the no Jeff rule. She thought Cullen might comment, but he didn’t.
“And now you know why,” Cullen said.
“Yeah. Bastard.”
Cullen laughed. “I haven’t heard you swear before.”
“I try not to cuss.” She hesitated, the pause weighty. She rushed to fill the silence. “I figured it was excellent training for later when I had children.” Grace tensed. Bother, she hadn’t meant to mention that either.
“I’d like children,” Cullen said, surprising the heck out of her.
“You would?”
“Yeah. Before I get too much older. My friends have kids now. Josh and Ash are expecting their first child. Josh told me before you arrived.”
“That’s wonderful news. I take it that few people know because I haven’t heard anything on the news.”
“No, they haven’t made the public announcement yet,” Cullen said. “They’re telling friends and family first, although the press constantly speculates about a baby bump.”
“I can’t believe you’re friends with the prime minister’s husband.” The incline increased, and Grace’s breaths started coming faster. It was dark at this end of the town, and Grace’s imagination jumped into overdrive. Her fingers tightened around Cullen’s.
“I hope that by the end of this holiday, I’ll be bounding up this hill like a jackrabbit,” she gasped out. “You’d think I’d have reasonable fitness with the amount of walking I do during a day at work.” She glared at him in accusation. “You’re not even breathing hard.”
“We’re constantly training, even when we’re on leave. It can be a matter of life or death for us, so our fitness is important.”
“I know you run, but what else do you do for training?”
“When we’re at our base, there’s an obstacle course they’re constantly changing. We do long runs and hikes up mountains while wearing our packs. We’re always doing weapons training and special exercises.”
“Such as?” Was that a rustle in the bushes to their right?
“Jumping out of planes, swims in the ocean, scaling buildings. Everything and anything the bosses can use to challenge us and help us work as a team.”
“I see. What do you do when you’re on holiday? I’ve seen you running, but what else?”
“I’m a member of the local gym. Sometimes, I’ll go swimming with friends—diving or something like that. Hunting, fishing, or camping. Most soldiers enjoy an outdoor life.”
“I can’t remember the last time I camped,” Grace gasped out, each breath coming in a harsh pant. The rustling had ceased, but she still peered into the darkness, alert to any further noises. “Perhaps I should start a fitness plan.”
“The secret is to discover an activity you enjoy. It doesn’t have to be a high-power exercise. Keep going. We’re past the steepest part of the hill.”
An involuntary groan escaped her, but she plodded onward. “I enjoy bushwalking. I love seeing and hearing our native birds and identifying the trees.”
“Commit to doing a walk once or twice a month. Keep it as a treat or a pick-me-up if you’ve had a tough week.”
They rounded the bend in the road, and something big bounded in front of them. Grace let out a squeak of fright before she could stop herself and dragged her hand from Cullen’s.
“Steady,” Cullen said. “It was just a herd of deer feeding in the clearing there. We gave them as big a fright as they gave us.”
Grace patted her chest atop her thudding heart. The crashing and drum of hooves continued before trailing off. “It’s so dark! I’d prefer to see a kiwi. I might still expire in shock, but it would be a pleasant one.”
Cullen laughed. “We might manage that. I was speaking with a local earlier today while you were booking dinner in the restaurant. He told me if we walk to the local rugby field, we have a decent chance of spotting a kiwi. All we need to do is make sure our torch has a red light so we can watch them without upsetting the birds.”
As they turned onto the garden path belonging to the lodge, Grace grasped his arm, excitement trumping her fatigue. “Can we do that? Really?”
He laughed again. “Yes, to both questions. I didn’t pack a torch, but the lodge owner might have one we can borrow.”
“I have a flashlight, but I’ll ask tomorrow if we can borrow one for you.” Her enthusiasm made the last of the walk—a few stairs that led up to their deck and room—more manageable. “Thank you, Cullen. I’ve had a lovely day—much better than the earlier part of my week.”
“Glad to be of service.”
Cullen unlocked their door to the summons of her ringing phone.
“Probably my mother. She thought I should cancel this trip to Stewart Island. I didn’t tell her you were coming along because I didn’t want a lecture or dozens of questions.” Grace fumbled through the handbag she’d left in their room in favor of a smaller, over-the-shoulder bag to find her phone. “Ah!” She plucked it from the bottom of her bag and tapped to accept the call.
“Hello!” Too late, she registered the number was one she didn’t recognize.
“Grace,” a familiar voice snapped. “Where are you?”
“None of your business,” Grace fired back, her pulse rate jumping into a crazy beat. “Why are you calling me? From the moment I caught you in bed with Julia, our relationship was done.”
“Hang up,” Cullen said.
“Who is that?”
“None of your business,” Grace said, taking pleasure in repeating the words.
“Is that same guy with you?” Jeff demanded.
“Do you think you’re the only one who has friends of the opposite sex?”
Jeff snorted. “You don’t have what it takes to attract another man. You were lucky I was willing to marry you.”
Grace increased her grip on her phone, and she jolted upright, tension straightening her shoulders. She got Jeff was trying to needle her. Make her feel small. Heat flushed her body, her anger writhing snakelike through her and poking at the sense of betrayal she’d experienced since discovering him in bed with Julia.
It wasn’t
going to happen.
Not again.
He didn’t get to belittle her or make this Grace’s fault.
She was great at her job, and while she bore distinct curves and would never be stick-thin, that didn’t mean she wasn’t attractive. She’d listened to Cullen when he spoke. He was a handsome and sexy man—one any woman would thrill to have at her side. She grasped on to what Cullen had told her and refused to let his spoken encouragement go unheeded.
Jeff was a jerk, and she didn’t need him in her life. She deserved love and support and didn’t need to put up with Jeff’s crap.
She was worthy.
It was time to remember that and not let Jeff’s assertions poison her mind.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Jeff. We’re not a couple any longer. You’re a mere speed-bump in my life. Goodbye.” Her finger hovered above the disconnect button before his panicked tone reached her.
“Wait! Grace, what did you do with my gnomes?”
“What?”
“My hear no evil statues. I’ve tracked three of them down, but one is missing.”
“Tell someone who cares,” Grace said and hung up on him.
“What did the loser want?” Cullen asked.
Guilt flitted through Grace, but she lifted her chin and met Cullen’s gaze. “He wants to know the location of his missing statue. Um, I have it. After we discussed them, I took the one flipping the bird because that’s what I wanted to do to Jeff.”
“You have it here?”
“It’s in the bottom of my bag. I intended to put it on display as a reminder of how I felt about Jeff.”
Cullen chuckled. “So why didn’t you? Why is it still in your suitcase?”
“I chickened out,” she confessed.
“I guess Jeff likes the statue. You didn’t tell him you had it.”
Grace pulled a face. “No, when it comes to that man, I’m not feeling nice.”
“Do you want a nightcap? We could have a brandy out on the deck.”
“Sounds great,” Grace said. “I’ll get the statue to show you.”
In the bedroom, she plucked the statue out of her bag. She peered at the ten-inch-tall white gnome with its gold decoration and couldn’t see anything different from the other three she’d tossed out with Jeff’s belongings.
“What’s taking you so long?”
“I’m coming.” Grace hustled outside to join Cullen, where he sat on the deck.
The sound of the waves whooshing gently to shore drifted to her while the lights of Oban sparkled like jewels set around the bay. Not a single vehicle rumble interrupted the music of the night, and it was nice not hearing the rev of cars or motorcycles, the chug of buses, and the screech of trucks on the motorway. This place was peaceful and a rest for her senses.
She took a seat opposite Cullen and set the statue on the table.
“Why don’t you sit over here?” Cullen suggested, patting the bench right beside him.
Grace’s pulse stuttered as she shot him a stare. Cullen was confusing her. He’d held her hand, kissed her, and she had no idea what this meant. Now he wanted her to sit next to him. Their thighs would touch. Their shoulders.
“W-why?”
“Because I enjoy having you near, and I thought we could stargaze together. Maybe listen for a kiwi calling or a morepork.”
“All right.” Grace nodded and rose again. Something about Cullen seemed different this time, and she couldn’t pinpoint what or why he’d changed. Sometimes, he grew quiet, and she wondered if his last mission was weighing on him. Working in a war zone must be taxing. She found it stressful enough to manage a busy kitchen. She had no clue how he kept returning to his unit, although she’d never say that to him. Grace slipped into the seat beside him, and his arm draped around her shoulders.
“This is better. Do you know any of the constellations?”
“No,” Grace said.
“Me neither,” Cullen admitted. “Although I’m pretty good at navigating. Lucky for me.”
“This is so nice here. Thank you for talking me into coming instead of canceling. If it’d been up to me, I would’ve stayed at home and moped.”
Cullen cupped her cheek and turned her to face him, the faint drag of his finger pushing a shudder through her. She fought her desire to close her eyes and lean into him and instead grabbed her brandy before resettling herself still within touching distance but far enough away to let her breathe.
“I should thank you,” he said. “This trip beats stripping wallpaper and sanding any day.”
A companionable silence fell between them. Grace sipped her brandy and savored the burn of the liquor on her palate, relaxing against Cullen’s side. It was beautiful here, and as she’d told Cullen, she was so glad she’d gone against her initial instincts and proceeded with the trip.
A morepork—New Zealand’s native owl—hooted, its mournful cry echoing around them. Almost immediately, another morepork returned the call.
“I wonder why the idiot decided you had the statue?”
Grace shrugged. “Maybe he’s clutching at straws and thought he could talk me into taking him back or something stupid like that. Who knows?”
Cullen reached for the statue and lifted it, holding it in the light. He frowned and tapped it with his forefinger. “It’s not exactly attractive with that sneer on its face and the raised forefinger,” he said finally.
“No,” Grace said.
“The part that bothers me is why he’s asking you for it. We watched people helping themselves to his possessions. You told me you put the matching statues out on the sidewalk, right?”
“Yes, he told me he tracked them down.”
“How, if people took the statues?”
“Perhaps he rang to learn what I’d say.”
“Possibly.” Cullen studied the statue again. He shook it, listening closely before frowning. “It’s ugly.”
Grace took the statue from him and set it on the table. “You said we weren’t discussing anything from home.”
“You’re right.” Cullen picked up his brandy and finished the last of the liquor. He yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. It always takes me a while to get back to a normal sleeping pattern.”
“I’ll be in as soon as I finish drinking my brandy.”
“Well, don’t do something stupid like try to sleep on the couch. Come to bed. I don’t bite. Much.” He grinned at her, his smile wide in the dim light.
“Good to know,” Grace said dryly. “I guess I’d better apologize ahead of time for acting like a clinging vine. If I keep you awake, just push me back to my side of the bed.”
“I might like a cuddle.”
Grace snorted. “You’re much younger than me. Why would you want an older woman groping you in the middle of the night?”
“Grace, you’re not old. You’re gorgeous, have a glorious smile, and your curvy shape does it for me. You remind me of an old-fashioned movie star.”
Her mouth opened and closed and opened again. Cullen chuckled and returned to her side. She stared up at him wordlessly when he tapped her chin with his forefinger. Taking the hint, she closed her mouth, and he laughed again.
“You need to learn how to take a compliment.”
“I’m not used to them.”
“The men who’ve passed through your life are idiots,” he said and walked away, leaving that declaration resounding around her.
She blinked, trying to make sense of his words. He hadn’t made a big deal about her eating something other than salad for dinner. Toward the end, Jeff had issued snide remarks, making her self-conscious and tense each time they’d gone out to dinner together. Now she understood Jeff’s proposal, and it hadn’t been because he’d fallen madly in love with her.
The back of her eyes prickled as memories flickered with Hollywood movie crispness through her mind. At least, she’d learned of his character flaws before their marriage. She had to keep telling herself this was a blessing. She’d fou
nd out before her relationship became angry and bitter and even more expensive.
She tipped up the brandy goblet and drank the last mouthful.
Instead of marriage, she was sharing a holiday with a sexy soldier and enjoying every minute. This vacation was much more fun than she would’ve had with Jeff if she were honest. She collected both empty goblets and carried them inside.
A small alcove with a fridge and tea-making facilities passed as a kitchen, and she set the goblets there to wash in the morning. Cullen appeared, passing her on his way to the bed. She halted, her eyes wide, and to her embarrassment she gaped. While she’d seen him mowing the lawn or running shirtless, this time somehow seemed different. More intimate.
“Something wrong?”
“Yes. No. Of course not,” Grace spluttered. “Ah, have you finished in the bathroom?” Grace, you’re acting like an idiot. Cullen saw you sitting in the bath earlier. You had bare shoulders. How is this different?
“Sure, it’s all yours.”
Grace took her time, a part of her hoping Cullen had fallen asleep by the time she’d finished. She brushed her teeth, cleaned off her makeup, and then realized she didn’t have her nightdress with her.
It was sitting under her pillow, waiting for her to grab it. Nightdress was a vague description. It was more negligee since this was her honeymoon, after all. The wispy red silk left little to the imagination, and she should’ve remembered this before she left home.
In her defense, she’d packed her bag two weeks ago and had forgotten what she’d put aside to celebrate her wedding. New clothes. Special clothes. Skimpy clothes.
She swallowed hard.
Stuff it.
She was going to wear that negligee.
10
YOU’RE THE ONE I WANT
While Cullen lounged in bed and waited for Grace to bolster her bravery, his mind drifted to the dickhead. He hadn’t wanted to waste a second of energy on the cheating bastard, but unfortunately, the moron kept jumping into Grace’s honeymoon like a carnival jack-in-the-box. Cullen didn’t think Grace had twigged yet, but adding the clues together was ridiculously easy. The stolen money, the constant business trips, the shoes tossed over the tree bordering his and Grace’s properties, the shady characters lurking in their neighborhood.
Protecting the Bride Page 9