The Wedding Trap (Second Service) (6 page)

She let the empty coffee cup in her hand fall to the floor next to the bag.

"Oops," she said. She bent down, peering into the unzipped compartment. A glint of metal caught the light from the fixture above her.

Beth jetted backward, her paper cup forgotten. Her breath was heavy and fast. She struggled to control it.

She didn't need a closer look to know what was hiding inside the pocket of the duffle bag. She recognized the barrel of a gun when she saw one.

"Are you okay?" a calm voice asked behind her.

Beth shot up to her feet.

Charlie was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist, giving her a clear view of his chiseled bare chest. It was every bit as glorious as she’d hoped it would be, but she didn't spare it a second glance.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered. "Everything's cool."

Dear God, she shouldn't have done that. When would she ever learn to listen to that warning voice in her head? She liked it so much better just a few minutes ago. Back when she’d been able to believe the fantasy she'd created about this stranger she was sharing intimate space with. That he was some kind of gentleman thief—more Robin Hood than common criminal.

His eyes went from her to the open closet door. His gaze became guarded. Beth tensed, waiting for what came next.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice even and measured.

"Nothing," she said too quickly. "I just dropped something."

"In the closet?"

"I was just poking around the room." She tried to play it cool, but she couldn't have acted guiltier if she tried. But she
was
guilty, and that guilt was quickly turning into fear.

He was armed. Maybe heavily. Who knew what else was in that bag? He could have a whole damn armory in there. What in the world was he planning to do with it?

He didn't move away from the door. He just stood there, his eyes steady on her. The seconds crept by in silence, and Beth felt every one of them. She felt the pressure to say something weighing heavy on her shoulders, but there wasn't any explanation she could give. She could ask him what he was planning to do with the gun, but she feared he might answer her.

"Did something happen?" he asked. There was a world of meaning behind that question.

"Nope. Everything’s fine."

He took a step forward, and she skittered back. He stopped. His grip tightened on his towel, the first sign of tension that she'd seen in him.

"That's right, Beth. Everything is fine." He said the words slowly. His voice was low. He was trying to calm her down, she realized. She questioned his motivations. Was she really safe, or did he just want to keep her quiet?

After another second, he started for the closet. Beth pressed her back into the wall behind her as he passed. He glanced inside and seemed satisfied that nothing had been touched. He slid the door closed.

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" he said, turning toward her.

Beth shook her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He inched forward, but Beth didn't sense any menace in his movements. Still, she remembered the shining barrel of the gun in the closet. People didn't keep those things around for petting puppies.

She forced herself to lift her head and look him in the eye. "I just want to know if everything is going to be all right.”

His shoulders fell a little. It was a convoluted sentiment and yet he seemed to understand her perfectly. He leaned in a little closer, but Beth kept her back pressed against the wall.

"Everything is going to be fine," he assured her. "You're safe. Your family is safe. Your friends are safe." He spoke slowly, giving her time to let the words sink in.

She nodded, wanting to believe him for the same strange reason that she’d believed everything he’d said since the moment she met him, even knowing that this time she had every reason not to.

But she did, though not with the same blind trust that she had given before. He hadn't done anything to hurt her. All he’d done was help her. Still, she couldn't help but be wary. She wasn't stupid.

Beth tilted her head to the side, concern rushing back over her. There was one person he hadn’t mentioned.

"Are
you
safe?" she asked.

The question seemed to throw him. For a brief moment there was a hitch in his relaxed demeanor. Tension flashed in his eyes, though Beth couldn't imagine why.

He shrugged but didn't answer. Beth swallowed past the lump in her throat. No answer was all the answer she needed.

"I guess you still aren’t going to tell me what's really going on here," she said.

He shook his head slowly. "Good guess."

Chapter 5

Alex uncrossed his legs and tried to resettle himself into a more comfortable spot in his seat. The antique couches that lined the lobby were nice to look at, but they weren’t exactly plush. The cushions were painfully thin and the backings were as hard as stone. It wasn’t the type of thing he usually minded. He’d done surveillance in much worse conditions for longer periods of time without a single complaint.

He couldn’t blame his lack of sleep. Sure, he’d only dipped in and out of the lightest sleep last night. His mind had buzzed, working out the details in this new little wrinkle in his assignment. That this
new wrinkle
happened to be an attractive and intriguing woman sleeping not twenty feet from him had nothing to do with it. But Alex knew from experience what sleep deprivation felt like, and this wasn’t it.

No, what had him squirming in his seat was the look in her eyes as she’d left the room this morning. She was scared.

He could understand why she would be scared of him. It was a perfectly rational reaction. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.

She was scared
for
him.

No one ever worried about him. No one. Ever.

All morning he'd struggled against the urge to reach out and pull her close. To wrap his arms around her and feel that soft mouth under his again. He’d passed it off as simple lust, something he understood well. But with that one look, she had floored him. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t know how to feel.

Sitting in the windowsill, she'd been so open. So truthful. She'd thought of him when she didn't have to. She'd bought him breakfast after all the trouble and confusion he had caused. It was funny to think about it, but that muffin might have been the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

Alex picked up the tablet at his side and pretended to read. He had to get back to thinking about his assignment, instead of a pair of soulful brown eyes.

He’d been in this spot for an hour now, and no one familiar or suspicious had passed by. He hadn't really expected any action. John’s DHS team had all the entrances and exits covered. They would let him know if anyone of interest was on the move. If anything was going to happen this morning between the Munoz’s and his CIA leak it was doubtful that it would happen in clear view of the lobby.

He could have complained that he’d wasted a whole morning, but that wasn't why he was down here on this ridiculous excuse for a couch. Not really.

Beth had gone down to the spa with the rest of the bridesmaids, and, once she was done, she would have to come through the lobby. He hadn’t figured out what he was going to say when he saw her. He hadn’t even made up his mind if he was going to approach her at all. He didn't want to antagonize her if she still looked upset.

But he did want to see her. For some reason that had become very important.

Alex turned his head at the sound of heels clicking on marble. Beth was in the middle of a group of women making their way up the stairs. She was laughing, but her smile was still tight. Worry lines were etched around her eyes and forehead. Her body was tense.

She gave Isobel Munoz a long hug, and then broke away from the pack. Alex tucked away his tablet, and rose, following close behind as she made her way to the front door of the lobby.

"Beth," he said when he had almost caught up to her. She turned around warily.

"Hey," she said. She didn't stop walking.

He fell in to step beside her. "Where are you going?"

"I have an errand to run for Isobel.”

"You want some company?" he asked.

That made her stop. She looked at him long and hard. She was worried he was dangerous. And he was. He wouldn't lie to her and tell her otherwise. The truth was he was far more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

The only thing he could do was assure her that he would never harm her. And he never would. Never. That she would even think it a possibility cut him deeper than he wanted to admit.

The look in her eyes was all apology when she opened her mouth. Before she could say a word, Spencer and Jordan Masterson walked out of the café. Jordan came over and clapped Alex on the back.

"Hey guys, how are you?" he asked.

"Just fine," Alex said.

Spencer Masterson stayed where he was. His eyes were on Beth, and Alex didn't much like what he saw in them. He was like a child who didn't like seeing someone other kid playing with his toy. There was a mix of jealousy and, more concerning, anger. This was a man who didn't like to be shown up. And he blamed Beth for his humiliation.

Alex hooked his arm around Beth's, and met Spencer's gaze full on. After a second, Spencer looked away, but none of his petty displeasure had subsided.

"Where are you guys off to?" Jordan Masterson asked.

"We have some errands to run," Alex said.

Beth's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say a word.

"Isobel's hooked you into running around for her again?” Spencer asked Beth.

Beth's smile was strained and shaky. She was a terrible actress.

"I don't mind," she said.

“That’s right.
We
don't mind at all," Alex said looking Spencer straight in the eye. His stare was enough to drain some of the swagger out of the cocky son-of-a-bitch.

Some, but not all.

“You’d better be careful,
Charlie
. Beth doesn’t like guys who speak for her,” he said.

“Really? Because from what I’ve heard, you were never really the best judge of her likes and dislikes.”

“Boys,” Beth said, rolling her eyes. She was obviously annoyed with the pair of them. “Why do you even care what I’m doing, Spencer? Don’t you have plans of your own?”

A slow smile spread across his face. He looked Alex up and down. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things of my own to look into today.”

“Good luck with that,” Alex said, hooking his arm around Beth’s tense back and leading her toward the hotel doors.

***

She was stuck with Charlie. It had to be written in the stars. She’d told him three dozen times in the four block walk to the florist that she didn't need him around, that he could go back to the hotel, that she was fine on her own. But he refused to take a hint.

The worst part of it was that she wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. She knew that she should—he had proven to be a dangerous man, after all—but knowing something and feeling it were two different things. And the truth was she was having a hell of a time getting him out of her head.

She'd wasted her time in the spa trying to figure out her feelings toward him. She felt some fear, sure. She wasn't used to guns or secret plans. But for some reason she wasn't scared of him. He'd been kind to her. He'd been helpful. He'd had every reason to be angry with her this morning for poking her nose into his stuff, but he hadn't been. He'd actually tried to calm her down.

So she'd wasted what should have been the most relaxing time before the wedding desperately trying to figure him out. After two hours, she still didn't have an answer. She'd been hoping that a nice long walk alone might bring some clarity, but then he'd appeared at her side.

She should be past letting him surprise her.

She opened the door of florist shop and found him exactly where she’d left him, leaning against a brick wall, watching the traffic go by. He turned his face toward her as she stepped outside.

"All done?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Was that all you needed to do?"

"Yeah." She started walking back in the direction of the hotel. Within a few steps he was right back at her side.

"Do you want to get some lunch?" He gave her the same smile that he had given her in the lounge last night, the one that turned her knees to jelly and set her heart fluttering in her chest. She hadn't felt those things since she'd been sixteen and Carlos Diaz had put his arm around her at a party.

"There was an Ethiopian place that we passed on our way here that looked pretty good."

"Um, I'm not sure," she said.

"How's that? Either you're hungry or you're not."

Beth stopped mid-stride and turned toward him. "Why do you want to have lunch with me?"

"I didn't know I needed a reason," he said.

She sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, you do. And a good one, too. Because I want to know what the hell is going on here."

"Nothing is going on," he said.

"Like hell," she said. "I don't know anything about you, Charlie. I don't even know your real name. All I do know is that you are armed, and have mysterious plans for the hotel that my best friend is getting married in this weekend. You're helping me with my silly little domestic problems, even though I can't figure out any way that it could possibly benefit you. And despite all of this, I can't seem to get you out of my head. So, yeah, I'm going need a reason that I should be in your presence any more than I absolutely have to."

"You can't stop thinking about me?" A grin pulled up the corners of his mouth.

Beth threw her hands up in the air. She turned away from him and strode in the direction of the hotel. She wouldn't slow down until she got there. Screw her pride. She'd hide out for the rest of the weekend in Isobel's room if she had to. Poor Jordan might find it a little awkward come Sunday night, but she was sure he'd understand once she explained.

Sorry Jordan, but your wedding night is going to have to wait since through a series of mind-blowingly bad decisions, I have passed off a felon as my boyfriend, and he's down in my room right now, planning God knows what.

Her humiliation would be complete.

"Beth," his voice sounded a few feet behind her.

She ignored him and kept going. She stormed her way through the crowded sidewalk. She weaved in and out of the crowd, tears welling up in her eyes. Pity was a self-indulgent emotion, but if she'd ever been tempted to give in to it, now was the time.

Beth lifted her head just in time to see a man walking right toward her. She moved a few inches to the right. He mirrored her moves. Beth slowed her step. There was a look in the man’s eyes that disturbed her. Something wasn't right.

"Beth," Charlie shouted. There was no annoyance in his voice now, only warning. Beth stopped cold. Something glinted in the man’s hand. The same glint she'd seen from Charlie's bag. He had a gun. And he was coming for her.

She didn't have time to run. He was only a couple of feet away. She didn't even have time to scream.

A second later, Beth was jarred hard to the left. Charlie's body slammed into her, shoving her into a small dark alley. She stumbled but kept her feet.

The alley was narrow, only big enough for a trash can to be pulled between two buildings. It was barely wide enough for her to see around Charlie.

He stood with his back to her at the entrance of the alley. His whole demeanor had changed. His shoulders were locked, his legs braced. He was ready for a fight.

He was trying to protect her, she realized.

The stupid man was going to get himself killed. You couldn't punch your way out a gun fight. Even Beth knew that.

The man with the gun turned the corner, right into Charlie's path. Beth screamed out to warn him. She needn't have bothered.

Charlie's palm shot out and curled around the man's right wrist. He wrenched it back at an unnatural angle. The man's face contorted in pain, but he held tight to the weapon. Charlie pulled back farther, until there was a sickening crack of bone and tendon. Only then did the man's hand involuntarily drop the gun. It clattered on the pavement and slid into the drainage ditch by the side of the building.

Even with a badly broken wrist, the man still went after Charlie, punching with his left hand. Charlie ducked out of the way and the heel of his hand crashed against the man’s nose. Blood poured out, but the attacker still kept coming.

There was a lethal grace to Charlie's movements, and his attacker’s, as well. Fists flew faster than Beth could keep track of in the small, dark space. There was no wasted movement. No time to get a reaction wrong.

He's coming for me
, she thought. It didn't make any sense. There was no reason. And yet she knew it as surely as anything. This man didn't just want to kill someone. He wanted to kill her. And if Charlie fell, he was going to.

But Charlie didn't fall. Beth watched in wonder as every punch Charlie threw connected.

The man stumbled back a few feet at Charlie's last blow. Both men had time to regroup. The attacker pulled out a shiny blade. Thin and four inches long, he held it in his palm like it was an extension of his hand. The next hit he connected to Charlie would kill him. The man smiled through the fountain of blood that poured down his face.

This fight was as good as over.

He rushed Charlie.

Charlie didn't flinch. He waited until the man barreling toward him was close, then he slid his back against the wall and used the man's own momentum against him. Charlie pushed against his attacker’s back. The man stumbled, unable to regain his balance. He fell past Charlie, stopping just short of Beth.