Protecting the Bride

by Shelley Munro

  “Do you think Jeff wants his drugs back?”

  “I’d lay a bet on it,” Cullen said.

  “What are you going to do with them overnight?”

  “I’ll put them back in the wardrobe behind my stack of shirts,” Cullen said. “Anyone coming after them will need to get past me. I’m a light sleeper and will wake if anyone comes into our room. They’ll need to struggle past the locked door and the curtains before they get to us.”

  “That is so reassuring,” Grace said, not holding back on her sarcasm.

  A laugh burst from Cullen, and he was still chuckling when he entered the walk-in wardrobe to hide the contraband.

  Grace yawned. It’d been a long but eventful day, and she needed to sleep if they were to go jet-boating up the river. She sat on the bed to remove her walking shoes.

  “You tired?” Cullen asked.

  “Why?”

  “It’s late, and we have an early start.”

  Grace sighed and pushed to her feet. “True. We’ve had an eventful day.”

  “I wanted to make love to you again,” Cullen said, his eyes searching her face.

  Grace’s gaze jumped to his, and he stepped closer, his hands cupping her shoulders.

  “But holding you will work for now,” he whispered against her neck.

  “We still have four days here.”

  She turned in his arms to study his expression. He meant every word. Jeff would’ve railed and whined and snapped at her if she’d told him no.

  “I’m tired too,” Cullen admitted. “But since I’ve shared a bed with you, I’ve slept better than I have in months.”

  Grace stood on tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his. “That’s great,” she said once she pulled back.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Cullen said and tugged his T-shirt over his head.

  Grace stared at the broad expanse of male chest. The sleek muscles made her mouth water, and her fingers itch to touch. In a few moments, he’d cuddle her against all that masculine goodness. The happy thought let her slough off her anxiety over the drugs they’d found in the statue. She hated that Jeff had tricked her. His stealing from her was bad enough, but that the horrid man had used her money to purchase drugs pricked her anger. If she ever saw that ratbag again, she’d punch him in his imperious nose.

  “Are you going to stand there all night, staring at me?”

  Grace winked at Cullen. “There are worse sights.”

  He laughed again, and naked, climbed into bed. He dragged the covers to his waist and propped his hands behind his head, his gaze bright. “My turn now.”

  Grace groaned but knew better than to complain of her weight or anything else Cullen might construe as lack of confidence. She shed her jeans, her fleece jacket, and the T-shirt she wore beneath. She’d already learned that Cullen loved her breasts. Best to flash those and distract him while she found her nightie.

  “Naked,” he ordered. “Please,” he added, softening his abrupt tone.

  Shaking her head, she discarded her underwear and hurriedly climbed into the bed. Cullen dragged her into his arms, his body heat making her cozy in no time. He placed a kiss on her shoulder, her neck, before reaching over to tap the bedside lamp controls on her side of the bed.

  “Cupcake, I love having you in my arms. When we get home, I’ll stay with you. That way, we can keep an eye on any unwelcome visitors, and I can rip into my home renovations.”

  “My house won’t feel safe,” Grace murmured. It had always been her haven, but now Jeff had spoiled that.

  “My friend, Josh, works in security and installs alarms. We’ll put in an alarm and take a few other precautions. Honestly, once the local buyers learn the dick is no longer there, they’ll stop coming around.”

  “I hope so. I don’t know how I missed the strangers around the place.”

  Cullen resettled, his hands on her body sending a surge of warm prickles to life. “Everything will be fine. Go to sleep, and we’ll deal with our problems tomorrow. Don’t worry. We’re not in any danger.”

  * * * * *

  Jeff sat in the shadows of the bush, rage pounding through his brain. Bang. Bang. Bang. The dull thud echoed in his ears until he wanted to scream. His pulse raced, and he ached to hurt someone, to see the drip of blood. His fingers curled as he imagined punching that dude with Grace. He wouldn’t mind slapping Grace either.

  God, that couple had appeared from nowhere. He hadn’t heard them as he’d been about to break into the third room, confident it’d been the one he’d wanted.

  He’d been wrong.

  He’d discovered that once the cop had arrived. From his position, he hadn’t been able to see anything, but sound carried, and his mistake had soon become clear. Grace’s room was the first one he’d broken into and discarded as not right. He cursed under his breath as he wondered what the hell he was going to do next.

  What if she didn’t have the gnome statue?

  No. No, he was confident she had it because the tape on the camera had shown her holding the statues. She and the man had discussed them. She’d placed three in the bag she’d later tossed on the sidewalk. The fourth, he couldn’t say for certain because masculine broad shoulders had blocked the camera angle. The thought kept firing through his mind, but he kept coming back to the fact it hadn’t been with the others, and the gnome giving the royal salute had always amused her. Didn’t serial killers keep mementos of their crimes? This wasn’t much different.

  Jeff listened to the surrounding sounds and heard a morepork call and the chirp of crickets. The lights from the lodge above him blinked out one by one until only the security lights provided vision.

  He stood and staggered a few steps before the blood flowed back into his cramped limbs. His gun pushed heavy against the small of his back and offered a sense of security.

  A solution popped into his mind, and he stomped back up the road to the lodge. Rage propelled him closer, an adrenaline surge buzzing in his ears. His gaze zapped to the room where Grace and that man were probably fucking right now. Quick steps led him toward the room, and it was like walking through a tunnel.

  He pulled out his gun and kicked in the door, guided to the weakness by the board on the broken window. It took him longer than he wanted—extended moments where his heart pounded so loud he couldn’t hear his thoughts.

  The light came on instantly. A man’s low warning voice.

  Jeff blinked, blinded by the light for precious seconds. When he refocused, he saw a tousled Grace, frantically trying to pull on clothes. Snarling, he raised his gun and pointed it at her. Without a second thought, he fired. Grace released a shriek of pain and fell to the ground.

  “Grace!” the man shouted, freezing when Jeff swiveled to point the gun at him.

  “Where is my statue?”

  “We don’t have it,” the man said.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Jeff snapped. He glanced at Grace and could only see her leg. “Grace! Answer me, dammit. I know you have the gnome, and I want it back. I’ll shoot you again.”

  Jeff caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He whirled, but the man was on him. He was bigger and more solid than Jeff had realized. The man punched him, and Jeff’s head jerked back. He saw stars, and when the man hit him again, he lost his grip on the gun.

  “Grace, stay back,” the man warned.

  “Take this, you ratfink bastard,” Grace shrieked.

  A blink later, something thumped over the back of Jeff’s head. He crumpled, and everything went black as he struck the ground. He must’ve only lost consciousness for brief seconds, but when he came to, the man was on him and busy tying Jeff’s hands together. Jeff struggled and discovered his bound legs. He could do nothing more than wriggle.

  “Grace, you’re bleeding.”

  “The bullet grazed my arm. I didn’t realize it’d hurt so much. No, that was stupid. Of course, a gunshot hurts.” She visibly trembled. “I’m lucky he didn’t kill me.”

  “If you had
given me back my statue, I wouldn’t need to be here, but you ruined everything.”

  Grace stomped over to Jeff, her face a mask of anger and something Jeff had never seen before.

  “You shouldn’t have come home early,” Jeff snapped.

  “You pompous oaf.” She darted closer and kicked him in the ribs. “Jerk! None of this is my fault. All I did was give you my trust. You were the one who stole my money and sold drugs from my house. You slept with Julia in my bed.”

  “We had a good thing going,” Jeff said.

  “Stop talking,” Grace snapped and kicked him again.

  “Stop kicking me,” Jeff snarled.

  “I’d kick you harder if I had shoes on,” she said with unwarranted relish.

  Jeff’s ribs ached enough as it was, and the guy who had jumped him had landed one or two stinging blows. Not that he would voice this fact.

  “I’ll find something to gag him with,” the man said. “Can you ring the cop?”

  A siren sounded in the distance.

  “It sounds as if someone has already done that,” Grace said.

  “Bitch,” Jeff snarled seconds before the man slapped something across his mouth.

  Grace glared at him, but Jeff ignored her while he attempted to free his arms. The idiots hadn’t searched him, and he had a knife too.

  19

  CALLING THE COPS

  Grace scooped up her clothes and rushed into the bathroom. Before dressing, she studied her arm and noted blood had run down her biceps to her elbow. She grabbed a flannel and carefully cleaned the wound. Thankfully, when she lifted the flannel, she saw the injury wasn’t as bad as she’d suspected. She grabbed a handful of tissues and made a pad to press against her arm. The wad remained white, the blood flow sluggish, and relief flooded her. She wouldn’t need to see a doctor unless the wound became infected.

  Grace muttered under her breath while she dressed. Jeff was an idiot, and she wished she’d kicked him harder. She pulled on a shirt and rapidly fastened the buttons. As soon as she was decent, she hustled back to Cullen. Jeff wriggled on the floor like the worm he was while Cullen eyed him in disgust.

  The siren continued coming closer until it abruptly cut off.

  Grace thrust her feet into her runners and stalked to the door. She pulled the curtain back and stepped onto the deck. Susan hovered near the breakfast room, and minutes later, the cop appeared.

  “Are you all right?” Susan wrung her hands.

  “A man broke into our room,” Grace said in an understatement.

  Cullen came to stand beside Grace.

  “Where’s the man?” the cop asked, eyes watchful.

  “He’s tied up—” Grace replied before someone grasped her arm and a knife blade at her throat had her head jerking back.

  “Stand back,” Jeff snarled.

  Cullen cursed, loud enough for Grace to hear. Then Jeff was dragging her away from Cullen.

  “Stand back,” he snarled. “Where is my statue?”

  Grace laughed, an edge of hysteria lacing the bark of sound. “You’re crazy. Even if I had your statue, which I don’t, how will you escape the island? The only way off is via ferry or flying. Both places will watch for you. There is no escape.”

  “It’s your fault, you bitch.”

  The pressure around her neck tightened, and her arm throbbed and ached. It had bled again, and instead of feeling fear, fury pumped through her. Jeff was an idiot. A moron. Despite the way he held her so tight, she forced herself to relax. She ignored the knife at her throat. She didn’t think he’d hurt her—at least, not until he had possession of the gnome.

  “How do you know I have the gnome?” she asked.

  Jeff’s grip tightened. “I knew you had it. I want it back.”

  “All right,” Grace said. “Why do you want it?”

  “That’s for me to know,” Jeff snapped. “Where is it?”

  “You’ll need to let me go so I can get it for you.”

  “Stay away from us,” Jeff warned. “If you don’t, I’ll slit her throat.”

  “Don’t give it to him, cupcake.” Cullen’s expression was warrior-scary, but stress showed too. He hated this situation and probably blamed himself.

  That made two of them.

  “Let her go,” the cop said in a calm voice. “She’s right. You can’t escape. Let her go, and we can discuss this.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Jeff said with a sneer. “The moment I release her, you’ll be all over me. Grace is my ticket out of here.”

  Not if she could help it. But what to do? She glanced at Cullen and saw his face had whitened with strain. He was blaming himself for her predicament. Not his fault. She’d tell him that as soon as she had the opportunity. But right now, she could do with a plan. Maybe keep him talking. “Jeff!”

  His body jolted at her sharp tone, and she felt the bite of the knife at her neck.

  “If you let me go, I’ll take you to the statue.”

  Jeff didn’t move. “Where?”

  “It’s in the wardrobe.”

  “Where?” He glanced around the bedroom. “There’s no wardrobe here.”

  “It’s a walk-in one. Just past the bed, there’s a fridge and tea-making facility. If you walk that far, you’ll see the walk-in wardrobe beyond that.”

  “Show me,” Jeff demanded.

  He was an idiot if he thought he’d get past Cullen and the cop with his stupid drugs.

  “I can’t see where I’m walking with the knife at my throat,” Grace complained. Her heart pumped faster than usual, but anger bolstered her courage. The urge to box his ears was intense. A plan slid into place. She’d have one chance to escape. One opportunity to give Cullen an opening to overpower the jerk. “Jeff, move the knife, or you’ll kill me before I can tell you the statue’s location.”

  “You’ve told me it’s in the wardrobe.”

  No mistaking that smug attitude. She’d enjoy taking Jeff down a peg or two. The man had not a jot of respect for her. She only wished she’d realized that earlier. “You think I’d hide your drugs in plain sight.”

  “What?” He’d lowered the knife to dig into her ribs and now slid a glance at the cop.

  Grace lurched forward abruptly, jerking from Jeff’s touch. At the same time, she bent her right knee and thrust it backward and up. Jeff howled on contact, crumpling to hold his groin.

  Cullen and the cop were on him in a heartbeat while Grace grabbed the clean tea towel and held it to her throat. It came away bloody but not as bad as she feared. She stalked back out to the main bedroom and found Jeff cuffed on the floor and still whining. His head turned in her direction, and he let out a snarl.

  “I want her charged with assault,” he spat at the cop.

  “You held her at knifepoint,” the cop countered, his gaze hard. “I saw you threaten her. Would you mind helping me get him back to the station?” he asked Cullen. “I can drop you back here once he’s locked away. I’ll get him transferred to Invercargill tomorrow morning.”

  Cullen turned to Grace. “Are you okay? How is your neck?”

  She crossed the distance between them and lifted the tea towel. “I’ll live. The cut isn’t deep.” She turned back to the cop. “He stole money from me and ran a tinny house from my premises without my knowledge. I want him charged with that.”

  “I’ll get the drugs we found. You’ll want those as evidence,” Cullen said.

  “Help me get him to the vehicle first,” the cop said.

  Grace followed them outside.

  “Drugs? What are you talking about?” Jeff shouted. “I don’t have any drugs. All I wanted was the return of my statue.”

  “You are such a liar,” Grace said. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you. You’re a whining dick, and you need to grow a pair.”

  “That man will give you the flick. He’s using you,” Jeff shouted.

  “Cullen isn’t like you.”

  “Let me look at your neck,” Susan said, halting Grace’s
tirade.

  “It’s not bad.” Grace lifted the towel.

  “He’ll leave you,” Jeff screamed.

  Grace glanced up in time to see Cullen punch him. The man dropped, and Cullen and the cop hauled Jeff to the car.

  Once they’d secured him inside, Cullen jogged up onto the deck. He disappeared into their room and reappeared carrying the bag of drugs.

  “I won’t be long,” he promised and gave her a quick kiss before joining the local cop.

  “It’s not usually like this on the island,” Susan said. “We get a few drunks and stupid holidaymakers from the mainland, but that’s it. Nothing like this.” She glanced along the deck at the damage to Grace’s and Cullen’s room. “I won’t be able to get your door fixed until tomorrow, and I don’t have a spare room for you right now.” The woman’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It-it’s never, ever been like this before.”

  “The trouble followed me from Auckland. Honestly, it’s no problem,” Grace said. “Why don’t we sweep up the glass and clear the worst of the damage? It’s almost morning, anyway.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding,” Susan said. “Most people would shout at me.”

  “Cullen and I are fine. Apart from this drama, we’ve loved every minute of our visit.”

  “Let me clean your neck with an antiseptic. Then, I’ll go into clean-up mode.”

  Grace sent Susan a reassuring smile because it was obvious the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders tonight. “None of this is your doing. You can lay the blame squarely on me. Jeff’s arrival is my fault.”

  Susan’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know this man?”

  Grace hesitated over what to tell the woman and settled for simplicity. “We were friends once.” It was none of her business that Grace had come on her honeymoon with another man. A trade that worked for Grace, for sure. Cullen was… He was… Mere words couldn’t describe Cullen. He was solid and rugged, yet with her, he was gentle and loving. He made her feel better about herself. He was everything. “Jeff followed me from Auckland.”