Chapter 12
In a breathtaking galaxy of gold, the ornate chandeliers glittered overhead, their light reflecting off the polished floor and creating a glamorous atmosphere.
The reception hall of the U.S. Embassy in Prague buzzed with polite laughter, clinking glasses, and murmured diplomacy.
Savannah stood near the curved arch of the tall windows, her dress still heavy with the heat of the stage lights from the Rudolfinum, where she and the others had just finished another performance.
After the sickness that had hit her like a speeding truck, she was mostly back to normal. The doctor had given her anti-nausea medication that had helped tremendously. A persistent fatigue and weakness, the unwelcome souvenir of her illness, weighed heavily upon her.
Sawyer hadn’t left her side, which she found both sweet and embarrassing.
Losing your lunch in front of the man you were attracted to wasn’t her idea of a good time.
He’d taken care of her, making sure she had plenty of Vienna’s version of Pedialyte to drink and rehydrate her.
But she could see something in his eyes that worried her and made her think this hadn’t been just a random stomach bug.
Maybe she was just paranoid, but she wasn’t taking any chances. If she had a water bottle or drink, she wasn’t leaving it unattended.
Despite the illness, she had to keep going. The show must go on, as they say. People were counting on her and she’d hear it from the Senator if she had to cancel.
The performance at the Rudolfinum had gone well. No mistakes, despite the tremble in her hands and the lingering weakness. But the moment she’d stepped through the embassy’s polished doors, a different type of weight settled on her chest.
She hadn’t been back since the incident.
She swallowed, glancing toward the hallway where, two years ago, a man had waited for her after a chamber recital.
Just a fan, they’d said. Obsessed but harmless.
He’d grabbed her wrist and whispered that she belonged to him before security dragged him away.
Nothing had happened, not really. But it had taken months to shake the invisible imprint of his fingers off her skin.
Tonight, though, she wasn’t alone.
Sawyer stood not far behind her, eyes sweeping the room with the quiet intensity that made her feel safer than she cared to admit. He looked sharp in his suit, the same steady presence he’d always been. Her anchor in high tide.
But her stomach turned cold when she spotted the tall, silver-haired man standing across the room.
The Senator.
Her pulse stuttered. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
He’d been there the last time, too. And never once had he shown her any sympathy after the incident.
She been left trembling and scared, a state that had only worsened when he chose to berate her instead of offering the comfort she’d so desperately needed.
Even from him, despite the considerable bitterness she harbored toward him.
She should have known not to expect any kindness from him unless it was in front of the cameras.
Her mother had been married to him for nearly two decades, and he’d never once shown her any care or compassion.
Realizing she was frowning, she shook off her bitter memories, pasted on a smile, and moved through the crowd, accepting a congratulatory nod from a diplomat and a compliment from a cellist before the Senator intercepted her with surgical precision.
“You look tired,” he said flatly, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Good evening to you too,” she murmured, forcing levity into her voice.
He didn’t smile.
“Your engagement with the Italian delegation was weak,” he said under his breath, herding her toward the edge of the room where the music faded and no one could overhear.
“The ambassador’s aide told me you seemed distracted.
You’ve had how many concerts now? And I’m still waiting for you to speak like someone who understands the value of this tour. ”
She stiffened. “I’ve been doing my best. The schedule’s been intense, and—”
“You always make excuses, Savannah.” She pressed her lips together in a thin, tight line.
It figured he’d cut her off before she could tell him she’d been sick.
“You’ve always hidden behind that fragile introversion of yours.
Do you want the world to think you’re nothing more than a girl with some talent but no substance? ”
Her throat closed. The air felt tighter, the walls closing in just like they had that night. She opened her mouth, but the words caught. Some talent? She had more than just some talent. People had called her a savant. The most accomplished musician of the age. It wasn’t just “some talent.”
She was so angry she could scream. But then, Sawyer appeared at her side, calm but with steel beneath the composure. “Senator, I think that’s enough.”
The Senator barely turned his head. “I don’t remember inviting your opinion.”
“I’m not your staff,” Sawyer said, voice low. “I’m here to protect her. And she doesn’t need this kind of pressure right now.”
The Senator’s jaw twitched as his narrowed gaze moved to Sawyer.
“I tried to have you replaced. Did you know that?” he said with a sneer, his gaze cold enough it made an involuntary shiver race down her spine.
“Told Flynn Condor I didn’t want an operative with .
. . your history. But he said all his men were assigned elsewhere. Lucky you.”
Savannah’s mouth went dry.
Sawyer didn’t flinch. “My boss trusts me to do my job. Maybe you should too.”
The Senator’s eyes narrowed further. “You’re a distraction. Always have been. And she doesn’t need distractions. She needs discipline. Focus.”
“Your daughter,” Sawyer said, sharper now emphasizing the word “daughter,” “needs someone in her corner. Maybe try that for once.”
The older man stepped back, nostrils flaring. “If she fails to impress at the next few receptions, you’ll hear from me. And you won’t like what I have to say. You’re on borrowed time, both of you.”
He turned and stalked away, disappearing into the diplomatic crowd like a phantom of control. Savannah swallowed the burn in her throat, staring at the floor until Sawyer gently touched her elbow.
“You okay?”
She nodded, but it was a lie.
Because she had never felt so watched, so exhausted, or so unsure of who she could trust. Except the man beside her. She’d never leaned on anybody, but she felt an overwhelming desire to do just that with Sawyer.
He seemed to sense her thoughts, his touch feather-light as he placed his hand on the small of her back, sending a completely different type of shiver down her spine.
Without meaning to, she leaned into his side.
His warm palm slid across her back until it rested on her hip.
Then he pulled her closer. “I’ve got you. ”
“I know you do. What would I ever do without you?”
“You never have to find out,” he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on her temple. A sense of déjà vu washed over her. It seemed to her that she had heard those very words just a short time ago, yet try as she might, she couldn’t recall who had spoken them.
“Does it make me a bad daughter that I dislike him so much?” she asked, shaking off the weird feeling.
“Not at all. You have to give respect to receive it in return.”
She thought about that for a moment. He was right. Respect was earned. And the Senator had never done a thing to earn her respect. “You’re very wise,” she teased.
“Don’t I know it,” he shot back. “Forget him, Savi. He doesn’t deserve a thing from you.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it any easier dealing with him.”
“Well, I’m here now. You never have to deal with him alone again.”
Savannah managed a smile, but a quiet apprehension persisted in her thoughts; she couldn’t shake the question of how long he’d stay by her side.
She was a job for him, after all. When the tour was over, he would walk away and return to his life.
And she couldn’t blame him. Who’d ever want to stick around for someone like her?
Before Savannah could delve further into despondent thoughts, she spotted the unmistakable shimmer of Kandy’s dress approaching through the crowd.
Champagne-colored sequins clung to every curve of the pop star’s figure as she swayed toward them, her bright smile zeroed in on Sawyer like a laser-guided missile.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the knight in shining armor.
Doesn’t this look cozy,” Kandy purred, sliding a hand along Sawyer’s bicep with shameless familiarity.
Then, before Savannah could figure out how she’d managed it, Kandy had expertly pushed Savannah away from Sawyer, smoothly maneuvering herself into the coveted spot beside him.
“You clean up nice, Voodoo. Very sexy.” Unabashed, she confidently ran her vividly red painted fingernails up his chest and then proceeded to adjust the knot of his necktie. Savannah wanted to rip her fingers off.
Sawyer offered a tight-lipped smile before grabbing her hand and removing it from his tie. Shifting subtly, he put an inch more space between them, then dropped her hand. “Evening, Kandy.”
Undeterred, she touched him again, letting her fingers trail down his sleeve before moving closer and shoving her breasts against his arm.
Savannah fought the need to roll her eyes.
Kandy’s moves were so predictable. And a complete waste of time and energy, especially since it had become abundantly clear that Sawyer had absolutely no interest in interacting with her in any way, shape, or form.
“You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me,” she teased with an exaggerated pout. “A girl’s got to work hard for your attention, hmm?”
Savannah forced a polite smile, her nerves still buzzing from the Senator’s venom. Kandy’s arrival wasn’t exactly soothing. Inside, she was seething. Kandy was everything she was not. Bold. Confident. Sexy. Who wouldn’t be into her?
Despite observing Sawyer’s reactions to the glamorous star, which screamed “back off, uninterested,” doubt settled in. She and Sawyer were friends . . . nothing more. It was foolish of her to wish for more.
She made a move to back away from the couple, but a chill traveled through her veins when she bumped into someone who stood directly behind her. She knew who it was even before she turned to look. His cloying cologne gave him away.
Henry Patrick.
Dashing, charming, and wrong. She couldn’t explain it. He hadn’t done anything outright, but every time he looked at her, it felt like he saw past her skin and into a place he had no business being.
And now, his eyes gleamed with that same quiet hunger as he approached.
“Savannah,” he greeted with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You were mesmerizing tonight. The Rudolfinum might never recover.”
“Thank you,” she said, forcing composure into her voice and folding her hands in front of her so he wouldn’t try to take them.
He leaned in slightly, his voice lower. “You should let me take you out while we’re in Prague. A nightcap? Something a little more private than these . . . stiff receptions.”
“I’m tired,” she said quickly. “Big day tomorrow.”
“We’ve got an early flight,” Sawyer added, his tone flat and watchful.
Henry looked at Sawyer, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’d been challenged. “Relax, Voodoo. I’m just making friendly conversation.”
“She said no,” Sawyer replied coolly.
Kandy rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Voodoo. You’re more fun when you’re not acting like her guard dog.” She turned to Savannah with mock sympathy. “Does he ever take a break? Or is this whole brooding protector thing full-time?”
“He’s just doing his job,” Savannah said, a little sharper than she intended, ignoring the pang that struck her heart. He was just doing his job. That’s what she was to him. A job that would eventually come to a close.
Henry’s gaze lingered on her too long. “You know, not every man here is trying to manage you, Savannah.”
“Good to know,” she said softly, edging closer to Sawyer.
Sawyer didn’t move, but his presence felt like a shield beside her. Tense, solid. Ready.
Kandy sighed dramatically and turned back to Sawyer, linking her arm through his. “Well, if you two are going to be no fun, maybe I’ll find someone more interesting to talk to.” But she didn’t let go.
Henry raised his glass in mock salute. “Until next time, darling,” he said to Savannah before strolling off, finally.
Kandy lingered a moment longer, giving Sawyer a slow, suggestive smile before brushing her fingers along his lapel. “Don’t be a stranger,” she whispered, then followed Henry into the crowd.
Savannah exhaled only when both were out of sight.
Sawyer looked at her, brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“Sure,” she lied. “Just . . . can we get out of here soon?”
He nodded. “Soon as you give the nod, we’re gone.”
She didn’t say anything else, but stepped just a little closer to him even as a sadness swamped her. The job would end and he’d be gone. She’s do well to remember that.