Protecting the Bride

by Shelley Munro

  2. Grace should be back in a week because that was all the time her boss had allowed her.

  Why Grace continued to toil for the dictator, he had no clue. She worked crazy hours, which, although it had suited his purposes, wasn’t any life at all. Also, the woman called Grace in to cover absences all the time, often at brief notice.

  Where was Grace? Her parents hadn’t arrived, so he assumed Grace had called them to say the wedding was off. Perhaps she’d gone to stay with them for a few days.

  This neighbor guy who’d been with her when he’d watched the camera feed might be a problem. Jeff hadn’t seen him before, but he’d asked Julia.

  She’d told him the guy’s name was Cullen Turner, and he was away a lot because he was in the army. Julia’s mood had hovered at snippy, and it was apparent to Jeff she’d made a pass at the guy, and the dude had shot her down.

  Army guy. Not so great. He’d notice things Grace hadn’t. Bugger. The plan had been solid, and now it had gone to shit.

  Jeff paced another circuit, wrinkling his nose at the stale remnants of cigarette smoke layered with a damp carpet fragrance.

  Normally, he’d never stay in a dump like this—five-star hotels all the way for him. But, right now, because of Grace, his money supply had dried up, and he’d had to pay every available bit of cash to his boss to stay alive and healthy.

  His boss didn’t stand for non-payment. He’d been very clear about the consequences at the outset of his employment.

  He muttered a curse under his breath and continued to ponder his options.

  3. He could locate Grace and retrieve the gnome.

  4. He could cut town using his false passport, which thank all the gods, he’d had with him.

  Jeff slowed to a halt. This option would mean cutting his losses and starting over again. An attractive option, but if his boss caught him… He’d order him dead without a single regret. No one would ever find his body.

  Not his preferred option. No, running was the last tick on his to-do list.

  A grunt of recognition escaped.

  Basically, he had to find Grace and retrieve his stash, which he could then sell to recoup his costs. He could pay his boss the rest of his profit, and everyone would be happy.

  Except for Grace.

  By the time he finished with her, she’d rue the day she’d stolen from him.

  This entire situation was her fault. A man liked sex. He enjoyed variety, and especially when the sex between him and his lady was lackluster. A woman couldn’t expect a man to go through life with frustration burning his gut.

  “Grace should’ve been happy with the status quo,” he muttered. “But no. She had to louse up this brilliant setup and create trouble. Bloody women. Typical! More trouble than they’re worth.”

  12

  PLAYING TOURIST

  Cullen had been firm when he called a halt after a few kisses. Grace smiled as she pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, ready for their day of exploration. And it hadn’t been because he hadn’t wanted her. His erection had pressed against her backside in an entirely satisfactory way.

  A bang on the door halted her daydreaming. “Hurry, Grace. You should know for future reference I’m a grumpy bear if I don’t get my morning coffee.”

  She opened the door and beamed at him. “I could kiss and make it better.”

  He blinked, and she grinned at the brief flash of shock on his face before his expression smoothed to impassive.

  “You’ve created a monster,” she teased.

  “I’m the grumpy beast because I lack caffeine in my system.”

  Grace took his hand and threaded her fingers with his. She led him to the door. “What do you do while you’re soldiering in the middle of nowhere? Do you have coffee there?”

  “I have caffeine tablets in the case of an emergency. I prefer not to take them unless I’m desperate.”

  “Huh,” Grace said and dragged him from their room. She waited while he locked the door and pocketed the key. To her immense satisfaction, Cullen reached for her hand without her needing to hint. Full of contentment, Grace ambled along the deck at Cullen’s side. Both appreciated the sparkling sea panorama and the surrounding gardens. A bee hovered above a lavender bush, its industrious buzz competing with the morning chorus of a bird hiding in the massive trees behind the lodge.

  “It’s nice to take time to smell the flowers and appreciate nature,” Grace murmured seconds before they entered the breakfast room. Several other couples were already at the table and chatting over their continental breakfasts.

  “I never have time,” Cullen said.

  “Me neither. Sit,” Grace said. “I’ll get you a mug of coffee.”

  “You don’t have to wait on me.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Why don’t you grab us a juice each? I’ll take either apple or orange, but nothing with mango, thanks. I drank lots of mango juice when I was sick one time, and I haven’t been able to drink it since.”

  Cullen lifted his fingers to caress her cheek. “I adore learning these small things about you.”

  Grace grinned. “Me too. I’d better grab that coffee.” At the tea and coffee station, she poured a large mug of coffee for Cullen and a smaller cup of tea for herself. It was lovely not having to rush around and cook for other people. Her boss took advantage of her good nature—Grace admitted that—but hadn’t worried too much because she enjoyed work. Lately, though—the last two or three months when she’d wanted to do wedding stuff and reduce her hours, her boss had turned snappy at her requests.

  It was time to take stock, Cullen’s words from the previous night giving her a boost of confidence. The fledgling idea she’d shelved because of fear she wasn’t capable kept poking its head out of the corner where she’d shoved it. It was a great idea, a winner, and she resolved to discuss it with Cullen this coming week to see what he thought. He’d give her his honest opinion.

  “Here you go,” she said.

  Cullen clasped her hand and kissed the back of it.

  “Do you want cereal and fruit?”

  “I’ll get mine in a minute. Let me savor my first cup of coffee, woman.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he said this.

  “Aw,” the older woman sitting opposite them said. “Newlyweds. You look so happy.”

  Startled, Grace opened her mouth to refute the assumption but stopped when Cullen squeezed her fingers in a warning. Neither of them wore rings. It was easier to let everyone assume they were a couple and forgo nosy questions from strangers.

  So instead of replying, she merely smiled and wandered off to get cereal and fruit.

  “What’s first on our list today?” Cullen asked when she settled on the chair beside him with her muesli. “I couldn’t remember what you said.” He lowered his voice. “I haven’t been sleeping well. It always takes me weeks to settle into normal sleep patterns. The last couple of nights with you sharing the bed seem to have helped.”

  “I’m glad,” she murmured. “We’re doing a bus tour at ten and going fishing for blue cod this afternoon.” She rubbed her hands together. “Blue cod is my absolute favorite fish to eat. Have you had it before? It’s a cold-water fish and very expensive up in Auckland. Around the same price as snapper.”

  “Works for me,” Cullen said. “I haven’t fished for years. I used to go with my brothers.”

  “Is Devon still in Australia?”

  “Yeah.” Cullen sighed. “Things changed after Isaac died in the accident. Our family fell apart. I was lucky to have Gran.”

  “I miss her,” Grace said. “She left me her special book full of family recipes.”

  “She couldn’t have left them to a better person,” Cullen said. “Thanks for reminding me. I can order some of my favorites when we get home.”

  “You’ll need to be on your best behavior.”

  Cullen winked at her, his genuine grin darkening his blue eyes. “Always with you.”

  Grace swallowed, her pulse racing, not because of what
he said, but more because of what he implied with his beautiful gaze and his sexy wink.

  After breakfast, they grabbed what they would need for the day and stashed it in Cullen’s day pack before setting off down the hill.

  “My butt muscles are sore,” Grace said. “Is it polite to mention that?”

  “From walking up and down the hill?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll give you a massage later. That and another hot bath should do the trick.”

  Grace sent Cullen an appalled glance. “You’re not looking at my butt. It’s my least attractive part.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.”

  He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Now that’s just a dare. I’ll have to kiss your butt now.”

  No! That would never do. “The bus leaves from near the jetty. It’s close to where we have to go to catch the fishing boat.”

  “Nice save,” Cullen said with a chuckle, his fingers brushing across the cupcake tattoo on her left inner wrist.

  The bus trip didn’t take long since there were only thirty-two kilometers of road on the island. It did, however, orientate them.

  “That’s the rugby field where the kiwis sometimes come out at night,” Grace said. “It’s not far from our lodge.”

  “We’re going to make a stop here,” the young blond man who drove their bus said over the speaker system. “If you follow that path over on our left, you’ll arrive at Observation Rock. From there, you’ll get fantastic views, and it’s also the best seat in town for watching the sunset.”

  She and Cullen followed the rest of the passengers and found a space to stand and study the view. A pair of olive-brown kaka, one of New Zealand’s noisy parrot species, flew overhead with a flash of their red underwings. They disappeared into the treetops, their loud, demanding squawks ringing out.

  “This is beautiful,” Grace murmured. She savored Cullen’s arm around her shoulders as she took in Ulva Island in the distance, a few boats dotting the sea and the glorious native bush around them. Seabirds wheeled overhead while behind her, a diminutive fantail flitted around, catching bugs on the wing. A plump wood pigeon cooed in a tree to her right.

  They filed back to the bus, and Cullen took her hand, keeping her close and enjoying the physical contact as much as her. She kept thinking this was a dream—a spectacular one—because she still couldn’t believe Cullen wanted her. He wasn’t a man to lie, so she had to respect his words.

  He wanted her.

  She was going to get hurt. She knew it, but maybe this once, she’d jump in with both feet and ask questions later. With Jeff, she’d done everything right, yet nothing satisfying had come of their relationship.

  “Hey.” Cullen tapped the side of her head with his forefinger. “Don’t deliberate too hard and get serious on me. That never bodes well.”

  She gave him honesty, something that had been lacking in her last relationship. She wanted to start this time—heck, she was going to do this. “I’m scared,” she muttered, unable to meet his gaze. “What if I mess up and lose your friendship? It’s important to me.”

  “Hey. What if getting together is the best thing for both of us? Think positive, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask for. How about we walk up to the rugby field and do one of the short walks the bus driver mentioned around there? We can work out where to do our kiwi spotting during one of our free nights.”

  “Sounds good. The fishing tour leaves at two, or at least that’s the meeting time at the boat.”

  Grace grunted and silently groaned her way up the slight incline leading to the start of the walk. “Cullen, when we get home, please nag at me to do more exercise. Work and standing on my feet all day in a busy kitchen isn’t doing much to aid my stamina.”

  “You don’t enjoy exercise like I do,” he said with a grin. “You’ve told me many a time.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But I’m determined to walk more.”

  Cullen slowed his strides and grasped her hand. Grace’s pulse rate blipped, but contentment also settled over her. The tension that had resided on her shoulders since discovering Jeff and Julia together eased away. “Instead of forcing yourself to go to the gym or run or attend an aerobics class…” He grinned at her. “You haven’t discovered a love of aerobics yet, have you?”

  “No. Definitely not. The last time I attended the class was full of beanpoles who wore designer lycra. I stood out, and their stares stabbed my back the entire time.”

  “Designer lycra, huh?”

  Grace shuddered. “Some of their outfits looked as if they wouldn’t go over my arm, let alone a leg or a torso.”

  Cullen shook his head as he led her on to the start of the path. “I was going to suggest you do an activity where there is exercise. You still like to dance, right?”

  “Yes, but what do you mean?”

  “Remember, I suggested signing up for an activity? Maybe a line dancing class or you could try bowls or water aerobics. Even darts or eight-ball. You don’t have to get fit, but the activity means you’re socializing instead of staying at home feeling miserable. Try a few things not related to your work. Maybe join a group to do that walking in your future. You might find walking with others helps with your motivation.”

  Grace nodded and followed Cullen along the path and into the native bush. Immediately, the scent of rotten leaves and logs reached her along with a crisp green fragrance that put a pep in her step. “That makes sense. Wow, it’s so beautiful in here.”

  Trees and ferns battled for space, some tall and spindly trees more trunk than leaves as they sought the sunlight. Beneath the canopy, moss grew on some trees while vines twisted around others.

  It was cooler under the trees, Grace’s skin pebbling with the drop in temperature. She zipped up her lightweight jacket and snapped photos with her phone.

  Cullen also took photos, some with her posing in front of trees or ferns and one at a waterfall.

  “Line dancing is a great idea. When we return to Auckland, I’ll check out the local classes. Hopefully, I can find one to fit into my work schedule.”

  Five minutes later, they reached the sports area. Bush surrounded the rugby field on three sides and the road on the fourth side.

  “It’s close to the lodge,” Grace said. “I thought it was farther, although this hill might challenge me.”

  “I’ll hold your hand,” Cullen promised.

  By common consent, they returned to the village via the road and stopped at the Kai Kart, the local fast-food joint, for a meal of fish and chips for lunch. Grace sat at a picnic table and savored every flaky mouthful of blue cod and each crisp chip. She licked her fingers, enjoying the bite of salt contrasting with the delicate white flesh of the fish. Of course, the crunchy batter was perfect too.

  A groan from Cullen, who was sitting opposite, had her glancing up in surprise. “Is something wrong?”

  “Woman, stop with the breathy, sexy sighs, and for the love of all that is mighty, please stop licking your fingers.”

  She stilled with a digit halfway to her mouth. “What? Why?”

  He leaned across the wooden table and took her lips in a demanding and passionate kiss. Sensations roared through her, communicating to each erogenous zone before ricocheting back and causing a stormy upheaval of confusion in her mind. Too soon, the kiss was over, but Cullen hadn’t straightened yet. He sat with a mere whisper of distance between their lips.

  Grace was uncomfortably aware of the group of workmen who’d sat at the nearest picnic table to them. The men kept winging curious glances their way, and Grace couldn’t work out why. Heat rushed into her cheeks.

  “The reason you need to stop is that watching you licking your fingers is torture. I’m as hard as a stone, and you’re not helping me settle down any.”

  “Oh.” She tried to wrap her mind around his words and failed.

  Cullen released a strained chuckle. “Cupcake, you still don’t
get it, do you? You have power over me.”

  “B-but…” She trailed off, words failing her, and sought for a way to ease her discomfort. None of her former boyfriends had spoken with this bluntness, nor had she stirred them sexually. It was difficult to fathom. “Um…”

  Cullen placed his hand over hers and squeezed briefly before leaning back to continue his meal. “These are great fish and chips. Some of the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Exactly,” Grace exclaimed, a touch defensive now. She hadn’t meant to discombobulate him. “Isn’t discombobulate a brilliant word?”

  Cullen laughed, his blue eyes dancing as he grinned at her. “It perfectly describes what you do to me.”

  Grace wrinkled her forehead. “But you’re so confident. A soldier.”

  His humor faded, leaving an intensity behind that made her uneasy. “Soldiers have emotions too.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

  “You have the power to hurt me too, cupcake.”

  Her mouth rounded in an O of surprise as she stared at him. “I hadn’t considered that,” she said slowly. “And I should have, which makes me a selfish cow. My concern was for my needs and feelings. I forgot about you.” She frowned. “Is that my problem? Not putting myself out there?”

  “Possibly, but from my point of view, it kept you from connecting too deeply with another man before you were ready to give me serious consideration.” He flashed a smile. “Now, if that makes me a selfish pig, I don’t care.”

  “I’ll try to do better and think of you too,” she promised.

  “I’d like that, cupcake. Are you finished?”

  “Yes, do you want to wander around the museum until it’s time to catch the fishing boat?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Cullen wadded their fish and chip paper into a ball and stood to take it to the trash.

  Grace paused a moment to watch him move, something she’d never allowed herself before. The confidence he radiated snared the attention of others. His fit and robust physique drew a second glance because Cullen was a man in his prime. She sighed, hardly able to believe he wanted her.