Mine to Keep (10 page)

This wasn’t a night about fear.

This was about the future.

Starting fresh. Giving the children a future.

Once, Skye had been a lost teen.  So scared. Alone. From beneath her lashes, she watched Trace.  Then she’d found him, and everything had changed for her.

***

Noah had almost fucked up.

Trace kept his arms around Skye, moving fluidly with her as they danced across the ballroom. Her face was lit up, her eyes shining.

Skye loved dancing.

And she loves me.

Noah would have to be careful.  Trace planned to catch the man alone at the earliest opportunity.  Noah would understand—as many couldn’t—just how important some secrets were.

He hadn’t realized that Noah was already back in town. If he had, Trace would’ve talked with him sooner.

It was just a little slip.  Skye believed what I told her.

Lying to Skye wasn’t something that Trace enjoyed doing.  She had so much faith in him.  The lies he told her ate at his soul.

But he wanted her protected. 

I have to make sure she doesn’t find out.

The music ended. Because he knew that she liked it, Trace dipped Skye.  Her cheeks flushed. More of that sweet, wonderful laughter slipped from her. 

He eased her back to her feet, keeping a light grip on her. He hadn’t noticed any weakness in her injured leg, but, when it came to Skye, Trace didn’t want to take any chances. 

The band announced that they’d be taking a short break. 

Trace glanced over and saw Melanie Petrie, the organizer of the charity event, as she talked quietly with two of her staff members. “Can you excuse me for just a moment?” Trace asked Skye. “I need to speak with Melanie.” Because he wanted to make a substantial donation, one that would be in Skye’s name.  He’d tell her later, when they were alone.

He couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

“Of course.”  She gave him an easy smile. “I wanted to step out on the balcony anyway. I’ve heard the fountains in the courtyard are quite incredible.”

They were.  Trace also knew that they were well guarded.  The event had a ton of security in place.
And I have my own men here, too.

“I’ll join you there,” he promised her.

Trace watched her walk away.  He couldn’t take his gaze off her back. All of that beautiful, silken skin.

“You’re one lucky bastard.” 

He inclined his head at Noah’s words.

“Is there a particular reason you were giving me a go-to-hell look earlier?” Noah asked him.

“You mean other than the fact that your eyes were looking at Skye far too damn much?”  Trace turned toward him.  His back teeth had clenched, and Trace had to force his jaw to relax. “She doesn’t know about my past.  I want it to stay that way.”

Noah whistled. “You’re marrying her, and she doesn’t know?”

“How many women know about
your
past, Noah?” 

Noah’s brows climbed.

“The last thing I want is for her to fear me,” Trace said.  “Especially after everything that happened.”

Noah nodded. “I’m sorry. I…I read the stories. Was it as bad as they said?”

For an instant, Trace remembered the basement. The darkness. The fear that had eaten at him.

She’d looked so beaten. Skye hadn’t even believed that he was really there, not at first. She’d thought that she was seeing a ghost. He’d had to convince her…

I found you. You’re going home with me. You’re going to dance, and we’re going to fuck and laugh and be happy. Do you understand?

Trace cleared his throat. “It was even worse.”

Noah swore.   

“Skye doesn’t need any more fear,” Trace told him, needing Noah to get the message.

His old friend nodded.

Noah started to walk away. Trace moved, blocking his path. “I want you to come to my office tomorrow. We have to talk.”

“Look, I said—”

“Ben Sharpe was murdered.”

Noah’s lips parted in surprise. “The hell he was.”

“He died right after he came to visit me, telling me that the past was coming back.”

“The past is
dead.”

“Yes, that’s what I said, too. Then Sharpe wound up butchered in an alley.”

Noah backed up a step.  “I’ll be there, man.” 

Good.  Because Noah had been in on the mission that went to hell.  A mission that cost a teammate his life.

And taught them all the truth about just how deadly an innocent face could be.

The fountains were amazing.  The water flew into the air, twisting and turning in a rhythm that perfectly matched the soft tunes that drifted from the outdoor speakers.    

Lighting effects drifted over the water.  Soft pink, light blue.

Beautiful.

“Miss?”

She turned and found a waiter at her elbow. The balcony was well lit, gleaming with candles. The waiter offered his tray of champagne. She took a glass, nodding her thanks.

Skye lifted the glass to her lips.

Then she stopped. Because she’d just caught sight of a man standing below.  He had a hood over his head, and he was partially hidden by the shadows.

Her heartbeat kicked up. Her left hand pushed against the hard marble column of the balcony as she leaned forward, trying to get a better glimpse of the figure.

The glass tipped in her right hand and began to fall.

Long, masculine fingers caught the glass, and only a few drops of champagne dripped to the ground.

Skye looked into Noah’s eyes.

“It’s all right,” he said softly, “I’ve got it.”

“I-I—” Skye shook her head, unnerved by the intensity that seemed to cloak him. Trace carried that same, dark intensity, but she didn’t fear the danger that clung to him.

Noah York was another matter.

“I saw someone,” Skye finally said, pointing over the balcony. “Down there, in the shadows.”

Noah followed her stare.  “What was this person doing?”

“It was a man. I-I think. He was…staring up. Looking toward me.”

Silence.

She squinted as she stared out at the fountains, but Skye couldn’t see any sign of the watcher now. “He was
there.
”

“I never said he wasn’t.”  Noah put the champagne on the balcony and pulled out a phone. With his eyes on her, he said, “Dale, Jonah, do a perimeter sweep near the south-side fountains. Make sure that no uninvited guests slipped past security.”  He pushed the phone back into the inner pocket of his tux. “Some reporters can be very determined.”

Reporters. Right.  Her breath panted out too quickly. It had just been a reporter out there, waiting for a scoop. She had to stop looking at the shadows and seeing danger.

“Excuse me,” Skye murmured, embarrassed now. “I’d better get back inside and—”

“Trace won’t be much longer.” Noah leaned back against the broad column and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t we take a few minutes to talk?”

Once more, she glanced back down toward the fountains. Now she saw two men—both wearing suits—heading toward the shadows.

“Those are two of my men,” Noah said, not sounding particularly concerned. “If anyone else is down there, I’ll know shortly.”

There was just something about him that reminded her so much of Trace. Guessing, she said, “The two of you served together, in the military.”

“I did a stint in the military, yes.”

That was a vague answer.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. 

“I’m very sorry for what you had to endure, Skye.”

She swallowed to ease her suddenly dry throat. “Plenty of people endure worse all the time. I’m just lucky I survived.”

Silence, then, “I don’t think luck had much to do with it, but I agree, you
are
a survivor.”

The candle light fell on his face, half revealing, half concealing. “How much do you know about me?” Skye asked him.

“I know that we share a similar past. You, Trace, and I—life wasn’t always easy for us when we were younger, but we didn’t let our pasts stop us. A past should never get in the way of your future.”

“Your parents—”

“Unlike you and Trace, I never knew them. Not my real parents, anyway.”

She stared back at him.

He laughed softly, but the sound held no humor. “This is the point where most women would say, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Their loss.’”

Skye rolled her shoulders. “But like you said, we share a similar past.”

His head inclined. “So you don’t know if I deserve sympathy or envy.”

“You’re an unusual man, Noah.”

“And you, Skye Sullivan, are not at all what I expected.” He paused. “I wish that I’d had the pleasure of seeing you dance on stage. According to Trace, you’re quite phenomenal.”

“I was,” Skye said.  “Once upon a time…” She forced a smile. “But life is about change, isn’t it? Moving forward.” Always, forward.

He stepped away from the column. Stalked closer to her. “Do you love Trace?” Noah asked her.

“Of course.” She didn’t know how to not love him.

“Like I said, he’s one lucky bastard.”

She glanced toward the ballroom then, as a shiver of awareness slid down her spine. The band had started to play again—and Trace stood inside the open doorway.

How long had he been there?  Listening? Watching?

She slipped around Noah and went to Trace’s side.  “I think I’m ready to leave.” Seeing the reporter had rattled her, and she’d overdone at her studio earlier that day. Her legs were aching.

No, admit it—you just want to escape.

There were too many people in the ballroom. Too many eyes.

“Whatever you want,” Trace told her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Skye,” Noah called out to her.

She glanced back. “And it was very interesting to meet you.”

He laughed.  This time, there seemed to be real humor in that laughter.

“See you soon, Trace,” Noah said. “Very soon.”

They moved easily through the cluster of people in the ballroom.  The dress that had felt so beautiful against Skye’s skin suddenly seemed too revealing.

She looked to the left and found gazes on her.

To the right—she saw two women whispering and glancing her way.

Too exposed.

She didn’t want all of the attention. She’d thought she could hold it together but—

Trace stopped. Right there, in the middle of the ballroom. He turned and pulled her into his arms. He stared down at her. “You are the most beautiful woman here. If eyes are on you, it’s because no one can look away. If people are talking, then it’s because they don’t understand how an asshole like me got lucky enough to be with someone as perfect as you.”

Her body trembled.

“There isn’t anything to fear. You’re safe.”

Skye nodded. She had to stop jumping at shadows. Straightening her spine, she met his stare directly.  “We’re both safe.”

He nodded.

They walked slowly from the ballroom.  She kept her shoulders squared all the way. Kept her chin up. When they exited the hotel and the cameras flashed once again, she didn’t flinch.

Skye just smiled.

Then she was in the back of the limo. They were cruising away from the hotel. Trace’s arms were around her.

The fear leaked away.

***

Noah York watched the limo pull away.

Trace Weston…the man was in deep.

And they were all in danger.

He pulled out his phone. Dialed a number that he should have forgotten years ago.  Even at the late hour, his call was answered on the second ring.

“We have a problem,” Noah said.  A deadly one. “And we need to act.” 

***

Trace brushed back Skye’s hair. Her head was on his shoulder, and his arm was around her, holding her. Holding her was the most natural thing in the world for him.

She fit against his body. In bed. Out.

When he wasn’t with her, he felt empty. Hell, he’d been lost all of those years that they’d been apart.

He wasn’t planning to ever be lost again.

“The two of you were together during your time in the military.”

Trace didn’t let his body stiffen when he heard her soft words. “Is that what Noah told you?”  He’d asked the man to stay quiet.

Trace hadn’t worried when Skye had gone out on the balcony. He’d had a guard watching her. Actually, he had a guard
always
watching her…just as a precaution.

But when he’d seen Noah head toward her, he hadn’t been able to get back to her soon enough.

Then he’d heard Noah ask Skye if she loved him.

“The two of you…you sort of remind me of each other,” Skye said.

That response surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like you’ve both spent too much time staring into the darkness.”  Her left hand entwined with his.

The limo slowed. Trace figured they must be at a red light because they hadn’t traveled far enough to be close to his penthouse, not yet.  “I’m not looking at the dark any longer,” he told her.

Her head turned. A soft light came from the back of the limo, giving him a perfect view of her face.

She started to smile.

The limo accelerated.

Trace bent his head toward hers.  

The impact caught him off-guard. Metal screamed, glass shattered, and Trace felt his body flying forward. He grabbed for Skye, holding her as tightly as he could as the limo shuddered—and seemed to rip apart.

They hit the floor, and he did his best to shield her, but Trace still heard Skye cry out.  Glass cut into him as the right side of the vehicle surged toward him.

Not Skye. Not Skye…

The scream of metal seemed to go on and on and—

Silence.

“Trace?”  Soft hands feathered over his face. “Trace, are you okay?”

He heaved his body up.  Glass rained off his back.  Something wet dripped into his eye. Blood.

Rage built within him, but he kept a chain on the beast. He knew better than to let his fury out, especially with Skye so close.  His hands slid over her, checking for injuries, making absolutely sure that she was safe and whole.

“
Trace!”
Her voice held definite bite now as she grabbed his hands.  “Stop it and tell me—
are you okay?”