Royal Wedding Threat (8 page)

Jason scowled.

Ava analyzed her claim. Did the captain of the guard really provoke her that much? Or did she deliberately push him away, even more than she pushed others? Maybe
it was because he was an authority figure who often defied her. Or perhaps she
had
noticed how handsome he was, but told herself otherwise because she didn’t want to admit she might be attracted to him.

Finally, in a small voice, she offered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault someone’s trying to kill you.”

“Not that. I’m sorry for that, too, but I meant that I’m sorry to have yelled
at you.” As she spoke the words, she realized just how much she meant them. Her thoughts flooded with the memory of clinging to Jason as he carried her down the rope on the island—of how terrified she’d felt because of the gunman, but how safe Jason had kept her. How could she have yelled at this man? He’d dived in front of a speeding car for her. If she’d doubted for a moment the impact of his
selflessness, she only had to recall how the car had dented his body armor.

He’d risked so much for her.

“Don’t cry,” Jason begged.

Only then did Ava realize tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” She set her soup on the coffee table and swiped at the tears with her hands.

Jason pulled the towel from around the heat pack and handed
it to her. “You’re not fine, but that’s perfectly understandable given what you’ve been through today.”

She clamped the cloth against her eyelids as though she could force the tears back. “I’m not the one who’s been through so much. You were hit by a car.”

“What’s that?”

Ava realized the towel had muffled her words. She peeked past it and met his eyes. “You were hit by a car. You
could have been killed.”

Jason looked back at her with apology on his face. She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond to her tearful apology, but she certainly wasn’t expecting his resigned words, spoken in a grim voice. “I need to ask you a question.”

“What?”

“Did your mother have a life-insurance policy?”

Ava swallowed. His words seemed to come from nowhere, and yet...her
mother had been killed, hit by a car. Someone had tried to hit Ava with a car. The events were similar, but Ava didn’t see what insurance had to do with any of it. She answered hesitantly, though she was sure of her answer. “Yes.”

“Who was the beneficiary?”

“My father and me. But we haven’t gotten anything yet. The insurance company has it all tied up in court. There was a clause against
suicide. They claim my mother stepped out in front of an oncoming car, deliberately.”

Jason nodded solemnly. “How much was the policy worth?”

“Half a million dollars. That may sound like a lot of money, but it’s fairly standard, hardly exorbitant. She qualified for a low rate because of her excellent health.” Ava quoted all she could remember, still not seeing clearly why Jason wanted
to know. Unless... “You don’t think she was hit on purpose, do you?”

EIGHT

J
ason clenched his jaw, hating the conversation, hating the pain that stretched across Ava’s freckled face as she realized the reasoning behind his questions. He didn’t know what more to say, not without causing her further pain.

She leaned away from him and shook her head slowly. “No. No. The only people who’d have any reason to do that—” Her voice caught, and she pressed
the towel to her eyes again.

“How viable was your mother when your father withdrew life support?”

Ava shook her head, red color flushing to her face as she lowered the towel and stood on shaking feet. “No. My father didn’t kill my mother.”

“Isn’t that what you accused him of?” Jason recalled her words clearly, their meaning too stark for him to soon forget.

“I didn’t mean it
like that.” She flung the towel down on the coffee table and walked toward the door.

Jason didn’t know where she intended to go, but he couldn’t let her leave, not when a killer was out there somewhere, searching for her, hoping to finish the job. “Ava.” He caught her arm.

She fought to move past him.

He blocked her way, wrapping his arms around her as she tried to step around him,
holding her tight as she fought him.

“I need to go. I need fresh air.” Her voice rose to a panicked note. “I can’t look at you right now. How could you suggest— You don’t know my father. He’s a minister. He loved my mom.”

“You’re right. I don’t know.” Jason held her tight against him as she struggled to get away. If she left the cabin, especially distraught as she was right now, she’d
be an easy target, never mind that she would have no idea how to navigate the twisting roads through the foothills back to town. “I don’t know why anyone would try to kill you, either, but someone is.”

Ava tried a moment longer to twist away; then the fight stilled from her slowly as her efforts gave way to sobbing. She pressed her face against his shoulder. “He wouldn’t,” she whispered,
then sagged downward so that Jason had to support all her weight just to keep her upright.

Unsure what else to do, but certain he ought to try to comfort her, he rubbed her back gently and thought frantically for something to say. But what was there? Someone had tried to kill her with a car bomb that morning. When that hadn’t worked, he’d tried to run her down with a car. If the killer had
succeeded in a hit-and-run before, it would make sense he’d fall back on that plan when his first attempt failed.

Determined to ease her agony, though he didn’t know what else he could possibly do to comfort her, Jason asked, “Can I pray with you?”

Ava shuddered against him, not answering at first. Finally she turned her face so that his shoulder no longer muffled her words. “No. God
doesn’t listen. He doesn’t care about me.” She choked back tears and buried her face in his shoulder again.

Jason simply held her, too stunned to know what to say. He’d watched her in action at enough weddings of the Christian royal family, as she’d paid lip service to God and said all the right things, he’d assumed she was a person of faith. Her father was a minister, after all, and she’d
grown up in the church.

He pulled her closer to him and rubbed her back again, mulling over this newfound surprise. The bitterness behind her words seemed to indicate that Ava had tried praying before, but somehow, instead of finding comfort in the midst of her painful experiences, she had lost her faith. Jason’s mouth felt dry. What could he do? She didn’t want him to pray with her.

Instead he pinched his eyes shut, held her tight in his arms and prayed silently for her, that God would ease her suffering, that she’d be willing to receive God’s comfort, if she could. And that somehow they’d stop the killer who was after her, before he struck again.

The prayer rose in Jason’s heart without words, fueled by determination and compassion, and something else he hadn’t expected
to feel, not around the fiery wedding planner. Something akin to affection, more than friendly concern. Somewhere, buried deep beneath the spiked armor and the prickly words, Ava had a tender heart that had been hurt, badly.

Without meaning to, he thought of the smiling picture of the Ava some time ago. He’d never seen her smile in real life. The prayer surged up from his heart that God would
heal the hurt inside Ava. That she could smile again.

* * *

Ava clung to the captain of the guard, burying her face against his strong shoulder as she struggled to fight down the hurt that surged inside her after everything she’d endured already—her fiancé’s betrayal, the loss of her best friend, moving halfway around the globe and starting over, the attempts on her life—and now this.

No matter how much she wanted to believe her father couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything to hurt her mother, she couldn’t deny the validity of Jason’s concerns, especially coupled with the attempt on her life that morning, the glaring “coincidence” between her mother’s death and the attempted hit-and-run.

Much as she wished she could scream at Jason that it couldn’t be true, she didn’t have
the heart to protest. His theory made sense. Painful, hideous sense.

And besides that, she couldn’t bring herself to scream at Jason again, not when he’d stared her down through so many arguments and still had the heart to hold her right now. Without his support, she’d droop to a sobbing puddle on the floor. The simple fact was, like it or not, she needed him right now, just as she’d needed
his help on the island and his daring bravery on the street in front of her apartment.

Maybe she’d always needed him.

The thought came out of nowhere, filtering through her pain like a fragrant balm, easing her unbearable sadness. This man, this strong, handsome man, had treated her far better than she deserved to be treated. He’d been patient and thoughtful. Granted, he’d yelled right
back at her more times than she could count, but she’d goaded him on.

And he’d always fought fair.

With jagged gulps, Ava pulled in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She realized Jason was rubbing her back with gentle, soothing motions. How long had he been doing that? She didn’t know, but gratitude filled her heart. The man treated her so much better than she deserved, apparently
out of the sheer goodness of his heart, since his real duty was to the royals.

She peeled her face away from his tear-soaked uniform shirt and looked him full in the face.

“You going to be okay?” he asked her warily.

She nodded, still not trusting her voice.

“Good. I’d like to get back to headquarters. We’ve got security footage of a man who approached the pedestrian gatehouse
last evening and asked about you. I want you to see if you recognize him. Are you up for that?”

If it meant a possible break in the case, Ava was up for anything. “Sure. Is it safe to leave?”

“I’ll call for a car. It will take them at least an hour to get here. We still have time to finish our soup.”

As they waited for the car to arrive and Jason’s parents to return, Ava finished
her soup slowly, staring at the pictures on the cabin walls almost without seeing. Jason made some phone calls, then joined her as she stood before a large collage of photographs that dominated one wall.

“Are these all family members?” she asked, hoping to talk about something—anything—less painful than the possibility that her father might have killed her mom and even turned on her.

“Yeah. We’re a big family. My parents had five daughters before I came along. They’re all married and their kids are nearly grown now. These are mostly of my nieces and nephews.” He led her toward the hallway, where an older collage bore pictures of a much-younger Jason. “Here’s where my mom keeps the embarrassing shots of me.”

Ava looked with wonder at the goofy boy doing headstands on the
sofa, standing proudly next to a dirt bike, grinning at the camera from between his sisters, with pink bows in his hair. She pointed at the snapshot and laughed.

“My oldest sister wanted to be a hairstylist. She liked to practice on me.”

“It’s a good look for you,” she teased. “Your sister knew what she was doing.” She glanced at Jason, expecting a snappy retort or possibly embarrassment,
but instead the look on his face made her breath catch in her throat.

* * *

Ava was smiling. Laughing, even. Jason stared as the smile brightened her face from the inside, transforming her appearance. She really was the same person as the pretty girl in the picture on her desk, wasn’t she? But unlike an old two-dimensional photo, she was so much more stunning in real life.

And resilient.
Not that he’d expected her to keep crying nonstop, but she’d put her pain away and turned her attention to happier things. It seemed a well-practiced move. But then, if she’d buried her mother a week before she’d arrived in Lydia, she’d obviously had to learn to ignore her pain and put on a brave face.

Her sternness over the past several months now made more sense. In fact, he felt a little
in awe of her, that she’d served the royal family so faithfully through many happy family occasions, while at the same time silently mourning the tragic loss of her mother. Just as inspiring was the smile she flashed him, however quickly it disappeared. Instantly, Jason felt the old challenge returning.

Growing up, he’d been the family clown, the little boy who could make everyone laugh.
Then he’d been the class clown. One smile could goad him to bring on a hundred more, until his father, fed up with his foolishness, had sent him off to a military youth camp to toughen up.

He’d gotten plenty tough, risen to every challenge and fought his way to the very top, to the captain’s desk that had always evaded his father. But he made very few people laugh from behind the captain’s
desk. It had been a long time since he’d bothered trying to make anyone smile.

And maybe there wasn’t much sense attempting to make Ava laugh again, not tonight when so many concerns plagued them, but someday. He’d like to see her smile again.

How long he stood there, lost in thought, watching Ava, he wasn’t sure. He heard stomping outside, and voices. “Sounds like my parents are back,”
he murmured and turned to the door.

His parents reported all was clear outside.

“I can take the boat back to the marina for you,” his father offered. “We don’t want to leave it in the cove until morning. If anyone spots it, it won’t take them long to find the trail to the house.”

Jason agreed. “Good plan. I’ve called for a car to come pick us up.” He updated his folks on everything
that had been decided. While he handed over the speedboat keys and explained to his father the difference between this newer model and the boats his father had driven in previous years, Ava joined his mother in the kitchen.

Deborah chatted with Ava amiably. Jason listened with only half an ear, focused mostly on his conversation with his father, but when he heard his mother mention to Ava
for the third time that she was welcome to visit again, he decided he ought to intervene.

“Mom, can you give me a hand in the back closet?”

“Sure.” His mother followed him. “What do you need?”

“I need you to help me find something.”

They left Ava behind in the kitchen. When they reached the closet, his mother asked, “What are you looking for?”

“A moment’s privacy.” He
gave his mother an apologetic look. “Could you please refrain from inviting the wedding planner back to the house?”

“It’s too late for that.”

“She’s not some girl I’ve brought by to meet you and Dad.”

“She is a girl, we’ve met her and we like her—”

“You don’t really know her.”

“Do you really know her?”

“Hardly.”

“Perhaps you should get to know her. You’re thirty-three,
Jason. I’ll have great-grandchildren before you get married, if you ever get married to anything besides your job—”

Jason had long sensed he’d inherited his argumentative nature from his sometimes-stubborn mother. “Have you been listening, Mother? Ava’s life is in danger. This is hardly the time—”

But his mother only patted his hand and cut off his words. “Your father and I arrived back
from our walk in silence. We saw the two of you gazing at each other—”

“We weren’t gazing!”

“Oh? What would you call it?”

Jason wasn’t sure what he would call it, since he wasn’t entirely certain what they had been doing. He’d been lost in thought, considering things he hadn’t contemplated in years, things he probably didn’t need to be thinking about right now given all the more
pressing details they had to worry about.

His mother continued, “You didn’t hear us until we made a lot of noise. Whatever the two of you were doing, you were quite wrapped up in each other.”

“I’ve got a job to do.” Jason turned to leave.

“You asked me for help, Jason.”

“That was an excuse to get you away from the wedding planner.”

“I think you need my help more than you
care to admit.”

“I don’t—”

“Give this girl a chance. Get to know her.”

“She’s an American. She’ll probably want to return to the States—”

“Not if you give her a reason to stay.”

Jason stared at his mother in wonderment. How many times had he and Ava argued? He was sure he couldn’t stand the woman. And yet the more he got to know her, the more he wondered if all those arguments
hadn’t been fueled, at least in part, by a desire to stomp down an unwanted sense of attraction. Whatever it was about the woman that got his blood boiling, his mother had picked up on it. He wished he knew what it was. “Why her?”

“She trusts you.”

“I honestly doubt that.” Jason could think of a dozen things Ava had said that would indicate she didn’t trust him at all.

“I saw more
than you realize,” his mother told him flatly. “That girl looks up to you. From what I understand, she needs a friend right now, maybe even more than she needs a guard.”

Jason wished he could think of a sharp retort, but his mother’s words struck home.

“I know you intend to keep her safe, Jason, but promise me you won’t let her get hurt.”

Confused, Jason asked, “What do you mean?”