The Wedding Trap (Second Service) (14 page)

The hits flew so fast Beth had a hard time keeping track. This guy was better than the last. There was no doubt about that. He kept up with the speed of Alex's punches, deflecting the worst of the attack.

Alex might need her help. She looked around for the gun and found it underneath the couch, just out of reach. She tried to squeeze her way under, but couldn't quite fit. She desperately stretched out her arm, past the point of pain. Her fingers just barely brushed the butt. She flicked at it, willing it to move into her hand, until she finally got a decent grip on it.

She’d never held a real gun before, just water pistols when she was a kid, but she figured the idea was the same. Business end points at bad guy. Pull the trigger. Except if she did manage to fire this thing, something a hell of a lot worse than someone getting wet would happen.

Beth popped up from behind the couch. She tried to aim at the waiter, but her hands were shaking too hard. She straightened her arms and locked her elbows. It didn’t help.

Not that it mattered. The men were fighting too close for her to risk taking a shot.

Both men were taking a beating. Blood trickled from cuts on their faces. Body blows hit with sickening thuds, but other than that they didn't make a sound. Neither grunted. Neither cried out.

The waiter landed a solid hit into Alex’s gut. Alex backed up a step, breathing hard. It looked like he was in trouble. The assassin must have thought the same thing. He took advantage, going for another hard blow to Alex's side. But Alex didn't crumple.

Instead, in a flash, he grasped the man's forearm and twisted the arm back at an unnatural angle. Only then did the waiter make a sound. It wasn't a scream exactly, but a muffled yelp that was no less sickening. Alex took advantage of the waiter's injury, twisting his elbow until it crooked behind his spine. Alex slung his other arm around the man's throat, immobilizing him.

Only then did Alex look over at her. He was breathing hard, and his face was bleeding pretty bad. It was obvious that he was favoring his right side. Beth realized that he had faked his injury, at least partially. But he hadn’t fallen. She should have known that it would have taken a hell of a lot more than that to bring Alex Tanner down.

What had John said?
He would have brought an army.

Alex positioned himself so his back was against the wall, holding the waiter fast in his arms. The guy wasn't going anywhere. Beth closed her eyes and turned her face. She didn't want to watch as another guy crumpled to the floor with a broken neck.

"Get my phone," Alex said. She opened one eye and peeked. The waiter, or who ever the hell he was, was still alive. "Find John in my contact list and tell him we need backup."

Beth nodded. She dropped the gun on the couch and looked around for Alex’s phone. It was on the bedside table. Her legs were shaky, but she made it there all right. It turned out her fingers were even shakier. It took her three attempts to dial John before she succeeded.

It was a good thing she hadn't tried to shoot that gun after all.

The phone only rang once.

"Go," a voice said from the other end.

"Um...John," she said. It was only after she heard her own voice that she realized that she was crying.

"Beth? What's going on? Where's Alex?" It was the closest thing to emotion that she'd heard in his voice.

"He's okay. But we need some help."

The man started to struggle anew in Alex's grasp. Alex jolted his arm up again. This time there was a harsh crack and the man moaned as he sagged in Alex's arms.

"Backup," Alex repeated. "We need backup."

"He says backup," Beth said into the phone, "but I'm sticking with help."

It didn't take the cavalry long to arrive. John was there before the tears dried on Beth's cheeks. There were two other men with him. There would have been four, he said, but the other two were busy helping the agent they’d found shot at the end of the hallway.

The man she'd seen when they'd stepped from the elevator. Beth felt her heart sink to the floor. The tears welled up again and rolled down her cheeks.

This was all because of her. A man had been shot because of her. Alex's face and body had taken a beating because of her. God knew how many more were putting their lives in danger, all because of her.

"He's going to live," John told her. His voice was as flat as ever, but he put his hand on her shoulder for a millisecond. She looked up at him and smiled. He was trying to comfort her. He was terrible at it, but at least he was trying. That was what mattered.

The two men with John wasted no time hauling off the waiter.

"Where are you taking him?" Beth asked.

Both John and Alex looked at her, mouths closed. Yeah, she shouldn't have expected an answer.

***

It shouldn’t have happened. He knew better. He knew the danger out there, and he’d allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. It wasn’t like him at all.

Alex looked at his bloody face in the bathroom mirror. He was lucky that this was the only price he had to pay for his momentary lapse in judgment. Beth could have been killed.

He slammed his fist down hard on the porcelain sink.

Damn, he knew better. Maybe John was right. Maybe he had let his emotions cloud his mind.

“You all right in here?” John appeared in the doorway.

“I’m fine,” Alex said through gritted teeth.

“I can tell. You look like hell.”

Alex started dabbing at his face. "I've had worse."

"That you have. How's the rest of you?”

Alex washed most of the blood off his face and assessed his injuries.

He had a cut above his right eye. Another on his cheek. His nose was bleeding but not broken. There was a hell of a bruise forming on his jaw.

He lifted his shirt and took a look in the mirror. His side was red as hell, and there was already some purple showing through, but other than that he was fine.

"Battered, but not broken," Alex said.

John nodded. "I'll double the guard on the floor tonight. You guys get some sleep. I have a feeling this last defeat isn't going to sit well with our guy.”

Alex turned from the mirror. His muscles were beginning to ache as the adrenaline fled his body.

“You think he’ll try again tonight?”

“I doubt it. He’s going to need to regroup and come up with a new plan,” John said. “Hopefully we’ll able to get some information out of this latest guy. Thanks for not snapping his neck.”

“I wanted to,” Alex admitted.

“I know.” John clapped him on the shoulder. Alex winced.

"You sure you're all right?" John asked. "You don't need me to send anyone else in."

Alex glared at his friend. "I'm not leaving her, John."

John looked at him long and hard before nodding again. "All right then," he said before turning and leaving.

The room stayed silent. Alex helped Beth into the bed, and pulled her into his arms. She cried for a little longer before sleep took her, and her breathing slowed. He kept his arms around her and waited for his mind to stop buzzing long enough for sleep to find him as well.

But it wasn't the fear of more attacks that kept him awake. It was the last thing he'd said to John.

He wasn't leaving her. He'd meant it. And he hadn't just been talking about tonight.

Chapter 12

A girl could get used to waking up this way.

Alex's strong arm was draped over her chest. He was spooned up against her, his groin nestled against the curve of her bottom. She snuggled a little deeper in his embrace, and felt a stirring between his legs.

Yeah, a girl could definitely get used to this.

His chin was perched on top of her head and she fit perfectly into the hollow beneath him. This was paradise.

Well, it would have been if it weren’t for the constant beeping of her phone alarm. It kept going and going. Like there was something important she had forgotten. Somewhere she had to be.

Isobel's wedding.

Beth shot straight up. Alex let out a little groan of disappointment.

"Things were just getting good," he said.

Beth blushed a little, and smiled to herself. After everything that had happened, it still stoked her ego that Alex desired her.

Then again, she had no idea how he felt about her otherwise. All she knew was that he liked her enough to keep her alive and sleeping in his bed. And really, shouldn't that be enough? Who wouldn't give their right hand to have spent two nights with this guy—three, if she counted the one he'd spent on the couch?

It should have been enough.

And yet, somehow, it wasn't. She wanted more. That was the problem. She had the feeling that when it came to Alex Tanner she would always want more. Even if she spent the rest of her days by his side, it would always be one day too little.

But the truth was that there was probably only today. And it had already started.

Beth pushed the hair out of her eyes and looked down at him. Her hand flew to her mouth.

He looked like hell. Well, as close to hell as a guy like Alex was ever going to get. His mouth was cut up and bruised. His nose and cheeks were red and swollen. And his right eye was sporting one hell of a shiner. It looked like he had fought for the heavyweight title last night.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"It's that bad, eh?" he asked. He rose up on his elbows, and she had the feeling that the rest of him wasn't faring much better than his face.

"No. It's just not...good."

"You're very reassuring."

"Sorry," she said. "What are we going to tell everyone at the wedding?"

"The truth," he said. Beth's eyes widened even further. "That you like it rough."

Beth whacked him in the shoulder with a pillow. He grimaced a little.

"Sorry," she said, immediately bending down to kiss the spot she'd hit.

"I'm fine," he said.

Like hell he was fine. But she wasn't going to argue with him. She had her own problems to deal with. She had to get ready for a wedding.

Beth wriggled out of the sheets and stepped down onto the floor. She took a long, hot shower, all the time hoping that Alex would slide in behind her, help her wash her hair and…other parts. But he didn't. She understood. He had to be sore from the beating he’d taken last night. But still, it was hard not to want one last taste of him. She wasn't sure just how quickly he would be flying from her life once this was all over.

On the other hand, Beth wasn't sure she wanted to think too hard about how today was going to end. She wasn't sure the odds were in her favor of walking away alive. After last night's attempt on her life, she wasn't feeling all that optimistic.

Instead she reveled in the warm water washing over her. She looked out the window at the city below, just coming to life, and let her mind drift to all the things she'd never done, all the things she'd put off, thinking that she'd have the time to do them later.

Beth shoved the melancholy thought away. If this did prove to be her last day on earth, she wasn’t going to waste it.

Beth turned off the water and wrapped a big, fluffy towel around her. One thing that she did know for certain—if she did survive this day, she was buying new towels. Life was too short to settle for the thin, crappy towels she had at home.

Alex was on the phone when she stepped out of the shower. He wasn't talking, just listening intently as he paced the floor of the bedroom, twisting and stretching, bringing his muscles back to life. He paused as she stepped into the room. The look on his face was flat.

"Understood," he said. He turned off the phone and tossed it on to the bed.

"That didn't sound good," Beth said.

"They've intercepted another message. Apparently, our guy isn't too pleased with the last two failures. He's decided to come down and take care of things himself."

Beth swallowed the lump that was quickly forming in her throat. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked.

"Depends on how you look at it. We have a better chance of catching this guy now than ever before," he said.

"That's good."

"But it also shows just how desperate he is to get you out of the picture. This guy is a total unknown. There's no telling what he’s going to do."

"That's not so good."

Alex shook his head slowly. "No, it's not. But no matter what happens, I'm going to be right by your side."

She never doubted that he would. But there was an intensity to his words that made her pause, something underneath that she couldn't read.

"Thank you," she said. She wrapped her arms around him. She rested her face against his chest, and breathed deeply.

She had to tell him how she felt. She didn't know how he would react, but she wasn't going to live what might be her last day in fear.

"Listen, I want to tell you something. I'm not sure if it's just a reaction to everything that has happened the last couple of days. I'm mean you've saved me from two assassination attempts—that can change the way a girl looks at a guy."

"Beth,” he said. His voice was filled with hesitation, but didn't push her away.

"Or maybe it was the how you dealt with my family and friends. Or the way you helped
me
deal with them. Either way."

"Beth, don't."

She went on anyway. What the hell? The only thing for it was to just say it. Put it out there. Live a little before she died.

"The thing is, I love you."

There. Done. She'd said it.

He held on to her for another a half second, not saying a word. Then he took a step back so she was an arm's length away. His fingers dug into her shoulders. His eyes were hard, intense, like gemstones. "You're only saying this because you think that you're going to die."

Beth shook her head. It wasn't entirely the reason. And it didn’t change the fact that it was true.

Apparently, he didn't believe her. "You're going to be fine, Beth. Do you hear me? Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“You willing put money on that?” She tried humor. He didn’t laugh.

"You're not going to die. I swear it."

He pulled her back into his arms, and held her with a protective ferocity that she'd never experienced.

He didn't utter another word. He didn't have to. He didn’t feel the same way about her. She didn't really expect him to. They hadn't known each other for very long. The time that they had spent together was hardly conducive to courtship. Intense emotion, yes. But traditional wine and-dine-romance, not so much.

But it was obvious that he cared about her. Deeply. Passionately. Perhaps briefly. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. She’d take what she could get.

Only now,
what she could get
didn’t seem half as satisfying as it had last night.

***

I love you
.

The words rang in his head, over and over, as the hot shower rained down on him. She didn’t mean it. She was just afraid, desperate.

But desperation wasn’t where those words had come from. One look in Beth’s eyes had shown him that her confession came from somewhere far deeper.

She loved him. He couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know what she was getting into. He may not have known her long but he’d already shared more with her than any other woman he’d been with. She’d peered into all his dark corners and still made a place in her heart for him.

Her strength, her resolve, her charm—they all amazed him. He would do anything to keep her safe and happy and by his side. Damn the consequences. If this wasn't love, he didn't know what was.

The realization hit him like hit to the gut.

Love
.

He loved her. He didn't just want her in his bed; he wanted her in his life. But for that to happen, he was going to have to get her through this day alive.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He found Beth curled up on the bed, hands covering her eyes.

"Beth?" he asked. She was sobbing. His heart sank. He should have told her how he felt the second she’d said the words.

She looked up, her eyes puffy and red.

"The dress," she said. Her voice was shaking so badly that he barely made out the words.

"The dress?" he asked. It was draped across the bed. He picked up the pile of lavender silk. This was what was making her cry?

"He shot it," she said. "Three months...okay...three weeks of near starvation, just to fit in to the damned thing, and that son-of-a-bitch ruins everything."

Alex looked down at the dress in his hands. Sure enough, there was a jagged hole through the waist.

Alex hid the smile that was starting to pull at his lips. After all that she had been through, this was what was going to push her over the edge.

"It's going to be okay," he said, sitting next to her and putting his arms around her shoulders.

The look she shot him said otherwise. "You don't understand.”

"Maybe I don't. Why don't you tell me?"

"It's not the dress," she said. "Well, it is, but it isn't."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"It's everything. All the crap that's been going on with Spencer, and my family, and Isobel getting married. And don’t get me started with the attempts on my life. The one thing that kept me going strong instead of running for the hills was how good I was going to look in that dress. I know it sounds crazy."

"No, it doesn't," he said, even though it did.

She wiped at her eyes and glared at him. "Of course, it sounds crazy. It
is
crazy. But it's still true. I just wanted to be perfect in that dress, and now some bastard has shot it."

He didn't quite understand. And maybe he'd have spend his whole life with her before he ever did.

"And the funny thing is that now I wish that I had taken a shot at him. Not for trying to kill me. But for ruining this stupid, ugly bridesmaid dress."

She was laughing now. Laughing while she cried. Alex kept his arm draped around her shoulder. But he thought it might be better if he didn't say a word. She seemed to be doing fine just talking on her own.

Suddenly, she stood up. "Let's get these bastards today," she said, resolve shining in her eyes along with her tears. "I'm not going to let anyone ruin another damn thing in my life."

Alex smiled. That was a sentiment that he could get behind. He wasn't sure how she got there with a dress, but he supposed that didn't much matter.

"All right, then," she announced, turning toward the wardrobe. "I'm going to need a sweater.”

***

"Is that a bullet hole?" Isobel asked, her voice going so high that it just barely fit in the range of human hearing.

Beth shook her head a little to emphatically. "No! What? Of course not."

Isobel bent over to inspect the holes in either side of Beth's dress. Beth tried to swat her away, but she refused to be deterred.

“Then what the hell caused this?" At least she sounded truly concerned and not upset. Beth didn't think she could take it if she ruined Isobel's big day.

"I don't know. Moths?" she tried.

Isobel stood. Her hands went to her hips. "Seriously? Moths?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Only you, Beth. Only you." Isobel shook her head. “You can borrow my white cardigan. That ought to cover it."

"Thank you," Beth said, overwhelmed with relief.

“You're not off the hook yet. You still haven't told me what's up with him." Isobel tilted her head toward Alex. He stood just inside the doorway of the honeymoon suite, doing his best to stay out of the way, but in a room full of bridesmaids getting their hair and makeup done, he was completely out of place.

"I told you, he's just hanging out," Beth said. It was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. At this point, it was easier to have everyone think that he was some kind of control freak.

"No, I mean what happened to him? He's all beat up," Isobel said.