Chapter 21
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” he snapped as he stared at a photo.
There was so much darkness and death and danger in this one photo that it made his heart leap into his throat. His stomach dropped as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him.
It was incredible.
It took his breath away with how much it said.
But mostly what it said was that it was his woman on the other end of the camera taking that fucking dangerous, powerful, amazing, terrifying photo.
Your woman?
Fuck. Shit.
He’d had his fingers inside her. He’d brought her to orgasm. He’d worried over her, obsessed over her, hadn’t been able to sleep for thinking about her.
And he spent countless hours thinking about ways to keep her safe.
So did that make her his?
He was starting to think that it did. She just didn’t know that yet.
Calm down.
You need to think more clearly. This sort of chaos isn’t what you want or need in your life, remember?
Yeah, but he was also starting to think that he was a fucking idiot.
Stress had his heart racing faster as he moved to the next photo.
“Jace, you need to talk to him. He can’t just swear like that in a place like this. And everyone is giving him a wide berth,” Rory said to his brother.
Rory was the only reason they’d gotten into this exhibition since it was invite-only. Apparently, she’d contacted Caren who had put her name with two guests onto the list at the front door.
Yep. You had to be on a fucking list at the fucking front door.
All right. He wasn’t sure why that annoyed him so much. It just did.
Maybe because all signs point to you not knowing her at all?
Her reply to his text the other day had been a thumbs up. Who fucking replied using just a freaking thumbs up? What did that mean? That she was okay?
He’d wanted to call and demand to know why she’d let him think she was a wedding photographer. And not a fucking award-winning photojournalist who took the most amazing, poignant and utterly terrifying photos he’d ever seen in his life.
But he’d forced himself to wait. He’d wanted to see the evidence of what she did for himself and he knew if he saw her or messaged her that he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
He’d demand to know what was going on.
Why she hadn’t told him about this.
About how much danger she put herself in to take these photos.
“Travis, you’ve got to stop scowling at the photos, people are going to think you don’t like them,” Jace told him.
“I don’t like them!”
People gasped around him. And he glared at them all until they stepped back.
“Not because they aren’t amazing,” he added. “They are! She deserves a Pulitzer Prize for these images.”
“From your lips to the Pulitzer Prize committee,” a male voice said from behind them. “Glad you are enjoying the images. They are meant to provoke a lot of feelings, including anger.”
His words calmed the people around them and they all nodded, moving away to give them some space.
The man was older, impeccably dressed and had a younger, beautiful woman standing next to him.
Travis’s scowl deepened. The girl’s eyes widened.
The man sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my niece. You don’t know me and you’re judging me?”
Shit. He was acting like a complete prick.
Prick? Now he was starting to sound like Caren.
“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I’m on edge.”
“Yes, I can see that. Caren’s work can do that to people. I’m Oliver Wells, her agent. And you all are?” He eyed them like he didn’t quite believe they were in the right place.
Which was probably a fair assessment.
“I’m Rory Mathers.” Rory stepped forward and held out her hand. “I know Caren.”
“Oh, Rory, yes.”
His niece whispered something to him and he nodded, his tension easing. “Yes, you’re Lacey’s sister-in-law, right?”
“You know Lacey?” she asked.
“Caren’s spoken about her so much, I feel like I do,” he said smoothly. “And these are your companions?”
“Yeah, we actually grew up with Caren,” Jace said when Travis didn’t reply.
“Oh, really.” Something strange filled the other man’s face. “Then I’m glad you could make it. Caren will be pleased to have some friendly faces. She gets a bit . . . nervous during these sorts of things. Now, I must go check on her, she should have been here by now.”
Tension filled him. “Caren’s missing?”
“No, of course not. She’s just late. Come, Isabel.”
The niece sent them a tight smile and hurried after her uncle.
“I don’t like him,” Travis stated.
“You never like anyone,” Jace said dryly.
Not true. He liked Caren.
Shit.
Where was she? And what the hell was she thinking putting herself in danger to get magnificent photos like this?
It wasn’t happening anymore.
At least, not without him there to protect her.
“I’m losing my fucking mind. I can’t believe I thought that she was safely taking wedding photos and here she is . . . going into the most dangerous places on Earth and taking images like these.”
“To be fair, I think being a wedding photographer would come with its own dangers,” Rory said. “I’m so glad that Lacey wasn’t a bridezilla. Could you imagine if you messed up someone’s photos for their big day, though? What if you left the lens cap on? That would be a nightmare.”
There was a lot of noise from across the room and he turned.
Christ.
There she was.
She was toned down. Well, for her. She still stood out in a sea of muted tones, wearing a pink jumpsuit with a tie around the waist and long sleeves. Her hair was pulled back off her face and had been curled. She even wore makeup.
God.
She was incredible.
His heart actually sped up as he watched her talking to the people around her. They were all gathering close, each one of them trying to speak to her.
He frowned. She was starting to look panicked. Her cheeks were growing pale.
Her agent was next to her. But instead of protecting her from the horde, he appeared to be pushing her into them.
“Can’t he see that she’s uncomfortable?” he grumbled as he took a step toward her. If that asshole wasn’t going to take care of her . . . well, Travis would have to step in.
Of course, her agent probably wouldn’t like how he did that. Neither would Caren.
“Whoa, what is he doing? Where is he going?” Rory asked. “Is he just going over there?”
“Yeah, I think so. Caren looks really uncomfortable, like she needs some help.”
Travis pushed his way through the crowd, people hurrying to get out of his way when they caught a glimpse of him, the irritated response dying on their lips.
He stood behind a man who was getting right into her space.
To the point that in an effort to get some space, she was about to overbalance and fall.
“You’re in her personal space. Back up.”
“Excuse me?” The man turned with a sneer. “Who the hell are you? Wait your turn. I’m talking to Ms. Stanford.”
“Well, Ms. Stanford is actually my girlfriend. So you’re the one who is going to have to wait their turn.”
The guy started spluttering, but Travis simply ignored him as he reached around and took hold of Caren’s hand, pulling her toward him.
Her mouth opened then shut as he drew her into his side, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Do you want some help with this crowd? Do you want them out of your face?”
They were risky questions. She might say no that she was enjoying herself. But that would be a lie. She was extremely tense and he’d seen the pure discomfort on her face.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Then follow along with me.”
He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t acting. That she was going to be his. But this wasn’t really the time for that conversation. He hadn’t even sorted it all out properly in his head.
“I don’t know how you came to be here, but thanks,” she told him, sounding breathless.
There was still panic on her face which he didn’t like. He knew she’d be mortified if she had a panic attack here.
But how to help her? He was shit at this, but Tyler wasn’t here to guide him so he’d just have to do his best.
“You’re welcome, Goldie. I’m here for whatever you need. Although we will be having a chat about you not telling me what sort of photographer you are. Oh, and about how you got here tonight since you’re supposed to call me if you need to go out at night.”
Lord.
This man.
He was a raving lunatic. But a lunatic who’d just saved her from being assaulted by an overly-enthusiastic man with garlic breath.
Bloody hell, he’d stunk. She’d actually thought she was going to be sick.
There was already a headache thumping in her temples. She really hated these kinds of things. Too many people, too much talking. She’d had three showers today alone. Her stress levels were through the roof.
Why had she agreed to do this?
Ahh. Yeah. Exposure. To get these photos out in front of people. To get them talking.
She still thought that they should open the first night up to the public. But Oliver liked it to be invite only. At least for the opening.
Just as she’d thought she’d been about to pass out or run off, Travis had parted the crowd like he owned the place, drawing her away from the crowd.
Like a flipping hero.
How amazing was that? She’d had her own hero moment.
With the guy she’d had a crush on for years.
For a moment she’d been concerned that she was headed into a panic attack. And it wasn’t about disliking crowds or functions like this where people tended to fawn over her.
She’d handled that sort of thing in the past . . . no. This fear and panic was a more recent thing.
Something else that fucking bastard had given her.
A fear of being hemmed in. Of not being able to reach an exit.
Being trapped.
Okay. Don’t think about that right now.
“You need to leave at any time, say your safeword, got me?” Travis growled at her.
Caren stared up at him in surprise. And to her shock, she felt her panic lessen. How did he make her feel safe?
She should be trying to find ways to extricate herself from his hold. After all, the crazy man had just declared himself her boyfriend to a bunch of strangers.