CHAPTER NINE
DECLAN
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Stella held my hand in the gallery as I told her about Mom and Dad. I don’t know why I shared my feelings but seeing that artwork and how the artist had found an escape or healing path, it affected me.
And I felt comfortable sharing the moment with her.
I spoke about Dad. He died a hero, and his memory has been kept alive almost to the point it feels like he hasn’t fully left.
That’s the problem.
I haven’t truly grieved. Not completely.
Not so that it fucks me up.
I was telling the truth when I said it’s my mother that I’m concerned about.
But then our conversation crossed into more dangerous territory. The electric chemistry that lives like organic matter between Stella and me.
I realized I’d dropped my guard and was close to crossing a line.
If the choice were mine, I would’ve chosen your kiss.
Thank fuck we didn’t. I would’ve loved to have smashed my mouth down on her luscious pink lips and threaded my tongue inside, demanding she give me everything.
I wouldn’t have stopped.
Not until morning.
But she is marrying another man, and I’m her bodyguard. Oh, and that little thing called an employment contract that says this sort of thing is forbidden.
Perhaps that’s the attraction.
Her forbidden bodyguard.
No, Stella seems to have more depth to her than that. And yet, she is marrying someone else and telling me she wants me to kiss her.
Something is not right.
Otherwise, I would have called her driver, sat her on my knee as we drove home, kissing her until her lips were bruised. Then, the moment the elevator closed when we arrived, I would’ve ripped her clothing off, got one glimpse of her gorgeous breasts and consumed them.
Then the rest of her.
The closest piece of furniture would’ve been sufficient to prop her on while I spread her legs apart, licked her wet pussy and slammed my cock inside her.
See. These damn thoughts are why I didn’t kiss her. I wouldn’t have hesitated.
Stella Voss is not mine.
And it would serve me well to ignore my rock-hard cock when she looks at me with those big blue eyes and remember that.
The week has been long, but it’s finally Thursday, and we’re on our way to Tony Marino’s estate.
Stella is nervous, and it shows.
Last night, I briefed Cole and Marshall, who flew into JFK earlier in the day to assist, and Ryder joined before leaving for the airport himself.
“Nice to see you boys again.” I shook their hands.
“Next time you need us, can you make it June or July? It’s fucking freezing in New York.” Cole shuddered.
“Trust me, you’d hate this place in July. It’s hot as hell.” I laughed. “But I’ll do my best.”
“I’ve got beer or water.” Raven opened the door, and both Marshall and Cole turned. “It’s too late for coffee.”
“Not in LA,” Marshall smirked.
“Four beers,” Ryder replied and then shouted as she started to close the door. “Do we have any of those nuts?”
“You’re all nuts.” Raven rolled her eyes and then disappeared, leaving us none the wiser if we’d get them.
“Pretty sure my wife is related to Raven,” Cole laughed.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“No, but they’re both insane. Also, if you repeat that to Scarlet, I’ll shoot you.”
“He will. You haven’t met his wife.” Ryder nodded slowly, then shot me a grin.
Okayyyy.
I looked from face to face, wondering if I should ask. But the way they were all grinning told me to leave it alone. Instead, I kicked off the briefing. “So, the Marino estate.”
“Yeah. Travis pulled up the floor plan, but we don’t know if he’s made any renovations since he purchased it almost ten years ago.
” Ryder placed a printout of the plan onto the table we stood around, then planted his hands on his hips, glaring at it intensely.
“My guess is he has, so approach with caution.”
Always.
Heads dipped, and we all examined the layout, making sure we were as familiar as we could be.
“Jesus, the size of this place,” Cole said.
“Figure Stella will be escorted into this room here,” Ryder points. “If Marino wants to take her aside for a private conversation, he could go here or here.”
My teeth had ground together for the rest of the briefing, imagining her in a room without me having eyes on her. My jaw is still partially locked.
If the choice were mine, I would’ve chosen your kiss.
Stella sits next to me quietly as we follow her father’s entourage. They greeted each other coldly earlier, and we are now minutes from arriving at the Marino Estate.
“If—”
“You’ll be safe,” I say, knowing her nerves are shot to shit right now.
“But if—”
I turn, my gaze dropping to hers. “Tell me what I need to know. Forget the NDA, Stella.”
She shakes her head and twirls her fingers together nervously. “I can’t. For as much your protection as mine.”
Fuck.
I’m thankful Cole and Marshall are behind us because her nervousness is starting to get under my skin and I’m on edge about what sort of reception we’ll get upon arrival.
Worse, what Marino has planned for Stella.
The gates of the Marino Estate come into view, and Victor Voss’ vehicle drives through first. We’re stopped, and a guard leans in, studying everyone in the vehicle; then he nods, and we’re waved inside the property.
The driveway runs between perfectly sculptured lawns scattered with large, established trees. Then the mansion comes into sight, and it looks like something out of a dark thriller.
“Christ,” I hear Marshall in my earpiece. “Cliché much?”
“I don’t like this,” Cole says.
“Hmm,” I add, keeping my comments to myself, not wanting to upset Stella any more than she is.
Her eyes lift to mine.
“Say the word, and we can turn around and leave right now.” It’s an option that no one else seems to be giving her.
The fact that she’s wearing a black dress, which looks more suitable for a funeral than meeting the man she intends to spend her life with, says a hell of a lot.
Stella swallows.
I’m not sure if she’s considering it or calculating the consequences.
If the choice were mine, I would’ve chosen your kiss.
Her words have been haunting me. I should have fucking kissed her, made love to her, told her I’d help her make a different decision. Perhaps she truly doesn’t think she does have a choice. But she does. Everyone always has a choice.
Unless you are locked up in prison.
There’s no ring on her hand, something I’ve been thinking about all week as she mooched around the house after our Art Gallery visit.
Over lunch one day, as she pushed her salad around her plate—we’d taken to eating together each day—I asked her what was on her mind.
“Life.” She smiled painfully. “And my story.”
“What’s it about?” I asked, forking chicken into my mouth.
“Well...” She gave up on the food and lifted her soda to her lips, taking a long sip. “It’s about a woman who lost her husband.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“She’s having trouble adjusting to life without him and finding herself.”
“Like my mom.” I lowered my fork. “Is that why we went to see the artist’s work?”
“No, that was a complete coincidence.”
I don’t believe in coincidences.
“My female character is a young woman. She fell in love and thought they’d have forever together.” Stella shared. “They hadn’t had children yet. So she doesn’t know who she is without him.”
I wondered if there was a parallel between this character and my mom. Age was one factor, but not always.
“How does it end?”
Stella shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what is slowing me down. I usually have an inkling, but I can’t get into the mindset of what she’s going through.”
How could she?
Stella was twenty-five and, up until now, had her whole life in front of her, full of promise and hope.
“Have you been in love?” I asked before I could consider if that was appropriate to ask.
“Um...” She bit her lip and my cock reacted, telling me it wanted to join in this conversation.
Nope.
She’s not ours, buddy.
“No, I haven’t. What about you?” Doe eyes met mine.
I’m eleven years older than Stella. I’ve had a few relationships with beautiful women who, at times, I thought I might feel strongly about. But the truth is, I’d never been batshit crazy in love like I’d seen other guys.
“I don’t think so, no.”
The air around us felt charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on. As if possibility were opening up, and the world was showing us something.
I knew I had to shut it down.
Being in close proximity to Stella always felt like I was one misstep away from ripping her clothes off and finally getting a taste. Her fucking bedroom was upstairs and just one thought away.
If I made a move, she wouldn’t stop me.
If she did, I wouldn’t stop her, either.
We were both hanging on by a thread.
I picked up my plate. “Well, if you want to ask me any questions about what Mom experienced, I can try to help.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled as I rinsed my plate and then hightailed it outside onto the balcony.
The vehicle stops. Time’s up. We have arrived.
A doorman opens the door.
I still Stella’s hand before she climbs out, and she glances at me, her eyes rich with fear. I give her one last pointed look.
Stella shakes her head.
Goddamn it.
At least I tried. Today Marino will claim her in one way or another, that will be more difficult to undo than if we just drove away.
A ring will be slid on her finger, and the way I’m beginning to feel about her, I might shoot him for doing it. Unless I get my shit together and remember Stella Voss is my job...not mine.
I climb out after her, remaining close, then shadow her as we head toward the stone entrance of the mansion. Cole and Marshall are on our tail.
Her father stands at the doorway, watching her like a hawk. Dressed in an expensive dark-gray suit and polished shoes, Victor Voss looks every bit the multimillionaire business mogul that he is.
“Three guards? Really, Stella?” Voss gives me and the boys a cursory glance, then focuses his anger back on his daughter.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she grates out. “Before I change my mind.”
His nostrils flare with a fury he’s trying and failing to hide but he lets out a sigh and begins walking.