Royal Wedding Threat (9 page)

“She’s afraid of many things right now. Her heart is vulnerable. Don’t hurt her.”

Jason started to leave.

“Here.” His mother pulled a women’s jacket from a hanger. “It’s getting cool outside. You said you needed my help with something in the closet.”

“Right.” Jason grinned, shaking his head as he took the jacket. “Thanks for your help.”

As he stepped back into the family
room, Ava turned to him, her eyes wide, questioning. He held out the jacket to her and she gave him a grateful smile.

“I was feeling chilly.” She slipped it on. “How thoughtful of you.” Though her eyes looked wary, when she looked up at him, Jason saw the look his mother had identified. Ava trusted him.

But with all the possible pitfalls that lay ahead, could he prove himself worthy
of that trust?

NINE

A
va closed her eyes during the long car drive back into the city. She wished she could rest, but her head spun with a thousand questions, not just about her mother’s death and the attacks against her, but also about the wedding so quickly approaching and how she could possibly be involved without endangering the lives of everyone who attended.

But more than all those
questions, which ought to have been foremost on her mind, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling of being in Jason’s arms as he’d soothed her while she cried. When was the last time anyone had held her like that? She’d refused to face her father after her mother’s death. Dan, her fiancé, had held her close as they’d buried her mother. She’d thought she could trust him.

And then? She’d returned from
Queen Monica’s vow-renewal ceremony to discover how Dan had warded off loneliness in her absence. Her heart pinched at the memory. How could any man hold her close one day and then betray her so deeply not many days later?

She glanced at Jason, sitting in the front passenger seat, as he barked orders into his phone. He was clearly frustrated by the many dead ends they’d hit, and determined
to find answers in spite of their lack of clues.

Her heart swirled with questions. Was she foolish to trust this man? In the wake of Dan’s betrayal, she’d pushed away everyone who might have gotten close to her wounded heart. But months had passed, and time had eased the hurt. Was she strong enough to trust again? Maybe. Looking at Jason’s strong profile against the starlight beyond the windows,
she wanted so very much to put her faith in him.

But he’d only ever fought her before. The paradox taunted her. Perhaps feeling affection for Jason was just asking for trouble. He’d given her little reason to believe she meant anything special to him. That he’d rubbed her back while she cried might have been only an impatient attempt to calm her so they could talk. It met his objectives as
the captain of the guard.

Surely she ought to take a step back and think clearly about the situation before she let her feelings run away with her. But then again, as Jason glanced into the backseat, met her eyes and offered her a small, encouraging smile, she wondered if it wasn’t already too late.

* * *

Jason ushered Ava into the royal-guard headquarters, heading straight for
the conference room, where their largest, high-definition screen would give him the best view of the surveillance image of the man who’d inquired after her the evening before. Oliver joined them, warning them as he brought up the image, “I’m afraid we didn’t get much.”

Prepared though he was, Jason couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He wasn’t at all surprised when Ava shook her head. “There’s
not enough showing of his face for me to recognize anything. Just a bit of jawline, some dark hair. He could be bald under that ball cap for all we know.”

To his chagrin, the man’s jacket and slacks looked utterly generic, nor did the man have any jewelry or tattoos on display. The closest thing they had to a personal clue was the distinctive compass-emblazoned
S
on his cap.

“That’s
a Seattle Mariners cap, same as the gunman who attacked us on the island,” Jason noted.

Ava seemed extremely reluctant to consider the direction the clue pointed. “Most of the men in Seattle have a cap like that.”

“Most?”

“At least half.”

“But this isn’t Seattle.”

“No, but even if the gunman didn’t come from my hometown, it’s common knowledge I’m from Seattle. He could
have bought a cap anywhere and worn it to throw us off the real trail.”

Jason suspected Ava only wanted to believe the man hadn’t followed her from home. Still, he couldn’t prove otherwise, nor could he discredit her theory completely. He turned his attention to what they knew. “He’s average height, average build. Same as the gunman who came after us on the island.”

“And the gunman wore
similar clothing. The two were probably the same man.”

Jason had another question he needed to ask, but he didn’t want to pose it to Ava just yet, not when he feared it might provoke tears. “It’s late. You need your rest. Can I walk you to the apartment?”

Ava shook her head. “You need your rest, too. I’m sure one of your men can walk me over.” She turned toward the hallway.

Jason
watched her in wonderment. Was this the same woman who’d refused a guard that morning? She’d told him then she didn’t think his guards liked her. He couldn’t argue with her claim. In fact, knowing that his guards viewed her with much the same resentment he’d felt until that evening, he didn’t want them walking her home. They would still think she was the argumentative wedding planner.

They
wouldn’t know about the real Ava with the tender heart and who had such a pretty smile, reserved only for those who knew how to coax it out of hiding. He trotted to catch up with her and caught the duffel bag that sagged from her shoulders, falling into step beside her.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you,” she told him, reaching for the bag.

“It’s not far.”

“You have important things
to do.”

Though he didn’t want to mention it, Jason confessed, “I have a question to ask you.”

She stopped by the rear exit door. “You can ask me now.”

“I’d rather not.”

She pushed through the door, holding it open so he could step after her. “You’re making me a little nervous. You know how I feel about your questions.”

“I’m afraid you won’t like this one any more than
the last, but it has to be asked. I just didn’t want to ask it in the middle of headquarters.”

Walking briskly, they reached the rear door of the palace-wall apartments, and Jason pressed his thumb to the print pad, which registered green, allowing them entrance. He opened the door for her.

“How thoughtful of you,” she said, only realizing as she looked around the small apartment just
how thoughtful he’d been. Someone had brought by her things from her apartment.

“I told the men to be careful with everything. And don’t worry, Theresa lent me some girls from housekeeping to pack and unpack your personal things. The men just did the heavy lifting and kept the ladies safe.”

“I appreciate that.” Ava had already begun to worry about getting her work done without her computer
and printer, but she saw these, along with her desk, had been set up just as she’d had them. Appreciation swelled inside her, but she knew their discussion wasn’t over. “Ask your question.”

“Could the man in the footage have been your father?”

Ava closed her eyes. Her features pinched slowly as she struggled to answer. She gave him the tiniest nod, but when she opened her mouth, her
voice caught.

“It’s okay.” Jason rushed to assure her. “You don’t have to say it out loud. I understand.”

But her face pinched up all the more, and she sagged forward, shaking her head adamantly. “I don’t want to believe he’s capable of something like this.”

“I don’t want to think so, either. And I truly hope he isn’t, but given the circumstances, it’s a possibility we can’t ignore.”
Jason was tempted to put an arm around her again, to comfort her in her obvious distress, but his mother’s words echoed in his thoughts. Ava trusted him. He didn’t want to hurt her and wasn’t sure he ought to hold her when he didn’t know what the next day might bring.

Instead he asked the next logical question. Though it was almost midnight in Lydia, it would be midafternoon back in Seattle.
If they called Ava’s father and caught him in his office in the U.S., Jason would know the man couldn’t possibly have been behind the attacks that day. “Can you call your father?”

Ava looked up at him, and he quickly explained his reasoning.

“It’s a good idea,” she admitted. “But I haven’t spoken to him since my mother’s death. I’m already too emotional. If he answers he’ll want to know
what’s going on.” She shook her head. “I’m not up to it. Not now. Not after the day we’ve had.”

“It’s fine,” Jason assured her. “Do you mind if I call him?”

Ava looked sincerely relieved by his suggestion. “Please.” She wrote down two phone numbers for her father, labeling them Home and Office.

“Would you like me to place the call from my office and leave you alone?”

“I don’t
think I could sleep not knowing.” She slipped the paper into his hand and clung to his fingers an extra-long moment.

Jason noticed. He tried not to call attention to that fact and debated whether he should hold her hand or pull away. He’d need to dial the phone. “I’ll call right now.”

Ava dropped his hand, and Jason punched in the first phone number. It rang several times, but there
was no answer, not even a machine or voice mail. He dialed the second number.

The church secretary answered, and Jason asked if he could speak to Pastor Wright.

“I’m sorry, he’s out of the office right now. May I take a message?”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“I can’t say.”

“Are you expecting him in tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Saturday. The office will be closed.”

Right. “Can you tell me when would be a good time to reach him? Or do you have another number I could call?”

“If you could tell me your message or reason for calling, perhaps I could help you.”

Jason thought quickly. What could he tell the woman that would get him the answer he wanted, without giving away too much, especially if Ava’s father really was their culprit? But then again,
even if the minister learned they’d called, what difference would it make? Perhaps they could just as well flush him out by identifying themselves.

With a silent prayer that he wasn’t making a big mistake, Jason explained, “I’m the captain of the royal guard of the kingdom of Lydia. Pastor Wright’s daughter is our royal wedding planner.”

“Is everything all right?” The secretary jumped
in when Jason paused. “Is Ava okay?”

“She’s fine,” Jason assured the woman, hoping he wasn’t giving away too much. “We had some questions for her father, if you could leave a message for him to call us back.”

“Oh, yes, certainly.” The woman took down the number for the royal guard’s main switchboard, as well as Jason’s personal cell-phone number. Then she quickly added, “Tell Ava we
miss her. I miss her smiling face and all the insightful things she used to say during Bible study. I do hope she’s fine. She’s such a sweet girl. I’ve been praying for her ever since—since her mother died.”

“She is fine,” Jason noted, and then, on impulse, since the secretary had brought it up, he added, “Keep praying for her. She has a lot going on right now.”

As he spoke, he saw Ava’s
face go white. He closed the call and put the phone away.

“You didn’t need to say that.” Ava looked up at him angrily.

“She told me she’s been praying for you,” Jason explained.

“Now she’ll worry for no reason.” Ava threw her hands up in the air—a signal, Jason had learned long before, that she was ready to argue and wouldn’t back down until she’d won the fight.

“For no reason?”
he repeated, not bothering to list the many reasons Ava and everyone who cared for her ought to worry about her safety.

“There’s nothing she can do about it from there.”

“She can pray for you. You need all the prayer you can get.” Jason didn’t want to argue, but Ava had made it clear she wasn’t going to let him get away without a fight.

“It doesn’t work,” Ava told him tartly, glaring
up at him. “I prayed for my mother. And I believed, stupidly, that God was with me, that God loved me even though my mother died.”

Jason listened, surprised. He would have sworn Ava had buried her faith the moment her mother had taken her last breath. But her words indicated she’d held on longer than that. He wanted to ask her to clarify, to explain the precise moment she’d lost her faith
and why. But he realized it wasn’t any of his business, and he feared such a question would only push her further away. He didn’t dare risk that, not when he already saw her rebuilding the walls around her heart even higher than before.

“I’m tired.” Ava walked to the door and held it open for him. “Good night.”

He crossed the room obediently, but turned to face her in the doorway. “I
don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Then leave before I cry.”

“Ava.” He reached for her, his heart breaking from the pain she carried.

But she swatted him away and closed the door after him. He heard the tumbler of the dead bolt slide solidly into place. He still had her duffel bag of papers slung over his shoulder and half expected her to reopen the door just to grab it from him. He
waited.

How long he stared at the door, he couldn’t say, but he prayed she’d open it and let him in. When enough time passed that it didn’t seem likely she’d change her mind, he prayed instead she’d open the door of her heart to God. God could comfort her far more than Jason could, if only she’d let him.

Jason trudged back to his office and set the duffel bag on his desk, zipping it
open, praying for answers. It was late and he was tired, but at the same time, he didn’t feel he could sleep, not yet. Riffling through the brochures, Jason spotted one with Ava’s smile, her hair still a natural, wavy brown as she stood between a beaming wedding couple and their cake.

It was the brochure for the wedding-planning company Ava had run back in the U.S. Jason realized he didn’t
know what had become of the company. Curious, he dialed the number on the brochure. It was still business hours back in Ava’s hometown.

“Happily Ever After,” a woman answered in a cheerful voice. “How may I help you plan the wedding of your dreams?”

“I’m calling about Ava Wright.”

“I’m sorry, she’s no longer with our company.”

Jason scrambled to think what he could ask next
that wouldn’t make the woman concerned, just as Ava had accused him of upsetting her father’s secretary. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m on the staff of the Lydian royal family. Everyone here is very impressed with her work.” He paused, recalling his conversation with his mother and the question he’d raised whether Ava might be planning to return to the U.S. Perhaps this woman could answer
more than one question.