Chapter Eleven
“EXCELLENT. JUST WHATI needed.” Zoey hurried out of the hall as fast as her high heels allowed her.
He kept close as if shielding her. Before the exit, he touched her forearm. “Wait a moment, please, so I have the chance to check the garden first.”
She nodded because, ridiculously, a simple touch affected her too much, and she didn’t want him to hear it in her voice. One squeak was enough.
He returned fast, though she’d started to miss him in the moments he was gone. “All clear.”
She stepped outside, met by cooler air and a flowery aroma, and gasped. “You call this ‘a little garden’?” She gawked at the fountains and statues, all basking in the lanterns’ golden light. The garden was so fancy she expected a preening peacock to strut past.
Barrett winked. “It’s not Versailles, but it’s the fanciest place for miles around.”
For a few moments, she was enthralled. Then it sank in. This was another of her father’s properties. One day, it could belong to her if she wanted, together with many others. Things other people could only dream about.
Only...
“I don’t want it,” she blurted out.
His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to manage all these properties.”
“Are you sure? A lot of people would—Never mind.” He touched her bare forearm, sending delicious tingles along her skin.
Then he withdrew his hand as if touching something forbidden, making her wish his hand stayed on her forearm. The lantern light and the starry velvet sky gave the place—and him—a mysterious glow.
It was like a fairy tale, but she didn’t have to be terrified about the clock striking twelve, didn’t need to disappear into obscurity. Her modest rental car wouldn’t become a much more modest pumpkin.
And the man in front of her already knew who she was.
Or who he hoped she’d become?
Looking into his blue eyes created feelings she didn’t want to admit, so she stepped to a fountain where a dancing girl statue raised stony arms. Zoey took off her gloves and moved her fingers through the cool water. He followed, but probably out of duty rather than attraction.
The fountain’s murmur joined the foliage’s whisper as if they wanted to tell her something. But they all spoke in a language foreign to her.
Did she speak in a language foreign to Barrett? Even if, like him, she spoke English now? “I’m not like other people,” she said.
“I noticed. And I like it. Not... not that I should—Argh! I’m usually not this tongue-tied.” He looked away when she looked up at him.
“I am.” She moved her finger along the fountain’s smooth, cold stone edge, wishing she could move her fingers along his warm, strong hand instead. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“You didn’t. It’s admirable that you can walk away from all this.” Yet his voice sounded sad. Disappointed.
She’d sensed some attraction from him before or hoped she did. But was he attracted to her newfound wealth rather than to her? Of course, he stayed professional for now, but when all was said and done, did he hope to share that wealth by courting her?
Her neighbor in Lazoria who’d never expressed interest in her had asked her on a date when the word somehow got out that she was rich. Guys she’d gone to high school with and had never seen again had called her to say they’d always had a crush on her. Even her two exes showed up at her door—thankfully, not at the same time—declaring their everlasting love and the endless regret over leaving her. One of them even had tears in his eyes. Her small flat had looked like a florist shop until she’d donated the flowers and the mountain of chocolates she’d received from all the new and recycled suitors. Apparently, a well-padded bank account could be more efficient than plastic surgery and pretty dresses.
By the time she’d left Lazoria, she’d been grateful that at least her pharmacist, an attractive guy in his thirties, hadn’t told her she’d been his love at first sight.
Barrett didn’t seem like that, but neither did her neighbors or her grocer at first.
“I know I can do a lot of good with all that. And I’ll try. But I don’t want to manage a large corporation. Dad and Kennedy say I can learn it, and they’ll be glad to teach me. But... I just don’t want that kind of responsibility or a lot of people depending on my decisions. I second-guess myself even when I decide what to have for lunch or what color beads to use in a bracelet.” She let the cool, refreshing water flow through her fingers again. Probably like she was allowing the biggest opportunity of her life to run through her fingers. Would she regret her decision?
Then she looked up at him.
Sadness settled in his blue eyes. “I understand. Does that mean you’ll go back soon?”
She took a deep breath, holding in the roses’ aroma. “I don’t know.” Her reply wasn’t as decisive as she wanted it to be, but she could only give that answer right now.
He didn’t say he wanted her to stay, and her heart squeezed painfully. Because she couldn’t deny that the main reason she’d stayed so far wasn’t just her family. It was right in front of her, and it wasn’t the fountain.
It was clear to her, clearer than the water rippling before her, that she needed to guard her heart as carefully as he was guarding her.
Her hand moved to the nearby blush-pink rose and touched the gentle petals. Then she leaned down to breathe in the fragrance. And okay, she needed to hide her eyes so he wouldn’t see the longing in them.
Hmm. She’d done plenty of rose-shaped jewelry, but she’d now add to that collection. Maybe also do a Western-themed jewelry line with miniature cowboy hats and boots.
She didn’t need to justify herself, yet she said, “I’m happiest when I make my jewelry.” She was also happy right now, when she was with Barrett, despite everything. “I know it doesn’t sound too ambitious. But I never aimed to impress people. Even my father.” She already knew she’d lose compared with Kennedy, so she refused to enter the competition.
If her father couldn’t love Zoey the way she was, simple and shy, without any desire to run his hotel empire, then maybe he couldn’t love her at all. Her tummy clenched, but she held her head high.
Except with Barrett. She did want to impress him. That was why she was standing here in an emerald silk dress—the kind of dress she’d never worn—with diamonds she’d never even seen up close before.
“Well, you impressed me.” His lips curled up before the smile slipped away as if he remembered something.
The words touched a sensitive spot, and yet she made a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, I guess the expensive dress and all these diamonds—”
He stepped closer. “I liked you more in your peasant blouse and cotton skirt and the beautiful jewelry you made yourself.”
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes.
“But it’s not about what you’re wearing. It’s about who you are.” His gaze turned intense. He plucked a half-opened white rose and placed it in her upswept hair. His fingers touched her forehead lightly as if by accident, but the sensation still reached all the way to her heart.
That gaze and slight touch sent her heartbeat racing before her whisper rushed out. “You don’t know much about me.”
“I want to.” He leaned closer to her, his breath caressing her cheek. Emotion swirled in his eyes.
Her heart stuttered. Everything in her became mesmerized by the night and the fascinating man in front of her. Was he about to kiss her? Or was it just her wishful thinking?
Then he stepped back and glanced around. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Wishful thinking, it was.
Wonderful. He regretted his words already. That canapé soured inside her.
If only she understood people better. But how could she? She’d been so isolated for so long. “My mother... she didn’t like me playing with other children,” she blurted out. “I now realize she didn’t want us to be discovered. At that time and location, there wasn’t all this technology. So I had to use my imagination. I started making necklaces from peas for myself and my dolls and teddy bears.” She chuckled. “Those necklaces didn’t stay pretty for long. So I graduated to necklaces and bracelets from popcorn, then from cranberries and whatever other suitable material I could find. I gave them to my mother as presents. With no other people around, my life revolved around her.”
“That was so unfair to you,” Barrett whispered.
She didn’t want him to pity her. She wanted him to like her, the real her. Not just the person in a diamond-studded mask with an impressive bank account. “There were some good things then, as well. I was taken care of and loved.”
He studied her. “But was that kind of... kind of lonely?”
“Maybe. But I didn’t know it could be any different.” His intense gaze unnerved her, and her blood rushed faster in her veins. So she leaned to the roses and breathed in their aroma again, the one he’d tucked into her hair lending its sweetness to the very air around her. She searched for the right words to make him understand, but they seemed to slip away like falling petals. “When one can’t soar themselves, they have to let their imagination soar. It was as if the body couldn’t take flight, so the mind had to. That was the only way to feel at least somewhat free.”
“Did you ever want...” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to.
“Get out? Live on my own?” She frowned. “If I ever started talking about leaving, Mom would start crying. I didn’t want to upset her. After graduating high school, I didn’t dare suggest going to college, but I did take online courses here and there.”
“You didn’t want to learn a new profession?” He raised his hands in defense. “I hope I didn’t sound judgmental. I’m just curious... about you.”
That statement pleased her. At least, she wasn’t pouring her soul out to a person who only saw her as someone weak to protect. “By that time, besides making fashion jewelry and tapestries, I could sew costumes, from modern ones to ones for the local theater or the Renaissance fairs. I could make plush toys, even on demand when someone wanted a plush toy like their beloved pet. I could create tapestry portraits of humans or pets or humans with their pets.”
“You’re so multi-talented.” He sounded so impressed.
“Merci.” Oh how she basked in that simple comment! “I enjoyed creating something that would make people happy, no matter for how long. Creating jewelry was—is—my favorite, though. Mom bought materials, and the items started to sell. I could also do one-of-a-kind things like charms for a bracelet to commemorate a specific event or as a present showing a person’s interest.”
“I’ve seen your website, as well as your work on other websites. Everything is amazing.”
“Everything can’t be amazing.” Despite her protest, that heady-sweet sensation of secret pleasure zipped through her again. Especially considering he’d made an effort to look. But he must’ve only done it because he wanted to know the woman he was guarding. Regular investigative work. Not because he felt something for her.
Aw, too bad. Even as her shoulders drooped, she hurried on. “I often used to watch birds flying in the sky. I–I guess in a way I envied them. When I was older, I threw them birdseed.”
Was she revealing too much about herself? She wanted him to understand her, to know what she was about. She didn’t want to think about the reason for that.
“So you couldn’t even go outside?” He frowned.
“I could, but usually Mom accompanied me. And then with time, I’d been conditioned to believe someone could harm me outside. I didn’t venture out much unless I needed to, like delivering my work to shops when I needed to discuss future orders. What I meant by envying the birds was that they could fly high in the sky where people couldn’t hurt them.”
“She truly poisoned your mind.” His jaw flexed as if he gritted his teeth.
Her back stiffened, a part of her rising to defend her mother. Then her throat closed up. Even now, she didn’t want to accept the betrayal. “I believed she was trying to protect me. A part of me still believes it.”
And why not? Right when she’d ventured out of her safety zone and let herself believe it was all a lie—now she was in danger. If she’d kept herself hidden away, she’d still be safe. She wouldn’t need a bodyguard or private investigator. She wouldn’t need Barrett.
No. Something in her balked. She needed him.
Well, if she did need him, it had nothing to do with the threat to her safety and everything to do with a threat to her heart. And nothing would stop her from needing him.
His gaze lingered on her face, raising warmth over her skin. “So your avoidance of people... Is that why a beautiful, talented, incredible woman like you is still single?”
A pleasant wave spread through her at all the compliments. But the memory of her disastrous romantic experience diminished it. “I—Mom said guys would just take advantage of a na?ve girl like me. Said I’d best not date until I got older. Besides, there weren’t many opportunities for me to meet guys.”
“But there must’ve been some opportunities—sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It was tactless of me.”
His remorse pushed her words out. She lowered herself to sit on a stone bench planted amidst the roses and facing the fountain. She exhaled, the water’s smooth arcs and the roses’ scent soothing her. “No, it’s okay. My first serious relationship was with the owner’s son at a local shop where I sold my work. We both were seventeen then. He asked me out, and I said no. He asked me out again. He was very handsome, and I was secretly smitten. My mother was against me seeing him and said it wasn’t going to end well, that he’d just use me. So it was the first time I rebelled. After all, I felt I had the right to fall in love.”
He sat beside her, not too close, but still close enough that his scent overwhelmed the roses and his soft breaths overplayed the water. When everything in her begged her to scoot toward him, she hugged her arms around herself, sprang from her perch, and strolled away. Her high-heeled shoes tapped the cobblestones, her back to him, her gaze on the fountain, but her vision in the past. Seventeen and, yes, na?ve. Was she any wiser now?
“At first, everything was perfect. The ice cream he bought me or the flaky croissants we ate at a nearby café and then fed the rest to the pigeons. The romantic comedy when he took me to the movies. He was the first boy I kissed. I don’t even remember the movie’s ending because of that, but we all know how they end. I floated on clouds.” She hugged herself tighter, holding herself together, and a lump closed her throat.
She’d never had good judgment in people. Was she wrong about Barrett, too? Even the thought of kissing him made her feel like floating in the clouds.
So she stomped her feet on the cobblestones, grounding herself.
“Your mother broke you two up.” Barrett’s voice sounded bitter as he came up behind her, his warmth radiating toward her, his kindness reaching inside her. Would he touch her? Hold her?
Perhaps if she asked? Or if she leaned back just right?
The lump in her throat grew. She looked up at the moon in the sky as the breeze played with her hair. It was a beautiful night. She didn’t want to say “perfect” because by now she knew nothing was perfect. Or if it was, it was before crashing down.
She ducked her head. And the moon seemed to plunge into the fountain, its reflection there distorted. Like the memory of that initially blissful first love now was.
Why did she have to ruin the beautiful night by talking about her romantic failures?
“She didn’t have to. Soon, he wanted more than kisses. Much more. I told him I wasn’t ready. So he told me I was stuck up and playing hard to get. He broke up with me. My tender, inexperienced heart was crushed. A day later, he was kissing a different girl over fresh croissants in the café he’d taken me to. They didn’t feed the pigeons afterward. So when I took some birdseed to them later and complained about him, I believe they agreed with me. Oh, and I couldn’t sell my work in that shop any longer.”
Her eyes burned, but she wouldn’t cry. She’d never cry for that boy again. She’d done that enough at seventeen, her mother wiping her tears.
“He wasn’t worthy of you.” Barrett grunted. “He wasn’t even worthy of your pinkie.”
She hadn’t thought so at the time. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Then the professor teaching an online art class I was taking... We kept talking even after the finals, mainly about art, be it paintings, music, or movies. When he asked me to the movies, Mom didn’t like it, but he and I started seeing each other. I thought he might be the one. Then... then Mom got sick. I had to take care of her. Plus, I had jewelry projects with deadlines. I had to cancel too many of our dates, though I didn’t want to. He seemed understanding and compassionate, but by the time Mom was well, he’d moved on to another student.”
“I’m sorry. That guy wasn’t worthy of you, either.” He stepped around her, stopped in front of her, and touched her face with his fingertips. But he withdrew his hand too fast.
To her surprise, her lips moved up slightly, and the lump in her throat diminished. What had once seemed a tragedy didn’t any longer. “Not even my pinkie?”
“Not even the tip of your pinkie.” He took her hand and slowly, deliberately kissed her fingers one by one, including the tip of the little finger he’d mentioned.
Her pulse spiked, and her breathing went shallow. She’d blamed herself for what had happened with the guys she’d chosen, for being too na?ve and trusting. Her mother had told her all men were the same. But maybe they were both wrong.
Maybe Zoey just hadn’t met the right guy.
Until now.
Only she couldn’t have any kind of relationship with the right guy except a professional relationship. She slid her hand from his, even if it brought her a sense of loss. “Do you think I’m pathetic?”
“I think you’re fabulous. As well as beautiful, talented, incredible, if you don’t mind me repeating myself.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Her pulse spiked further, and she leaned to him before realizing it. “You can say it again, and I’d be fine with it. More than fine—totally fine.”
“Beautiful, talented, incredible. I’m not great with words, but you have no idea how refreshing and irresistible you are.” His voice grew husky. He searched her eyes, then looked away at the rose bushes. “Like... like morning dew on a blossoming rose.” His thumb caressed the outline of her face.
Her heartbeat skyrocketed, and she leaned into his palm. The art professor had told her flowery compliments, as well, but she felt Barrett, unlike him, had meant every word.
Or was she just weaving an imaginary tapestry of Barrett’s affection in her mind? She’d done it before with other people who hadn’t cared about her.
Against her best intentions, she wrapped her arms around his neck, touching the smooth collar of his tuxedo and then a small spot of his warm nape. Awareness flushed through her just at the anticipation of his kiss.
His breathing quickened, as well, as he leaned to her, and satisfaction surged through her. She might be affecting him as much as he affected her. Or at least somewhat close.
Then he leaped back, and disappointment sliced through her. Her arms dropped to her sides. Had she misread the signs, and he didn’t want to kiss her? Didn’t care for her?
He pressed his finger to his lips as he listened to something intently. She tensed, as well.
Oh no! The dense thicket nearby moved slightly as if someone might be hiding there. In the cool night air, fear sent a shiver along her back. Weapon drawn, he charged to the thicket.
A rabbit darted out of it.
“Oh, it’s just a rabbit.” She almost laughed, heaving out a sigh.
Probably to be thorough, he checked the thicket and the rest of the territory. He also looked at something, likely the camera feed, on his phone screen. He was one of the few people Kennedy had given access to the gala camera footage.
When he came back, his expression was grim.
Her heart rolled in the grass. “Did you find anything suspicious?”
He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “No. But I shouldn’t have let my guard down like this. Shouldn’t have forgotten...”
“Shouldn’t have forgotten what?” She stepped toward him when his voice trailed off. The precious moment was ruined. The warmth and understanding that had been between them just minutes ago evaporated... like dew on a rose in the hot sun.
“That I must concentrate on keeping you safe—and only that.” He hung his head. “I could’ve put you in danger by being distracted.”
It wasn’t just the cold of the night she’d started feeling. The cold was coming from him now.
She shuddered. “But I’m perfectly fine.”
“No thanks to me.” He shrugged out of his jacket, then tucked it around her shoulders. “Here. It will keep you warm.”
Not as much as your arms would.
She kept the words trapped inside, as well as the words about how much she wanted to reverse this moment to the one when they’d nearly kissed. Or was it all just her wishful thinking?
His tux jacket was too big for her, so she sort of wrapped it around herself. “Merci.” She welcomed its warmth and the scent of his cologne that wreaked havoc on her senses.
On one hand, she was the most interested party in him concentrating on his task—she wanted to stay alive, after all. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be only a job to him again.
She was falling for him, falling like a bird shot from the sky, and she didn’t know how to stop that fall. It was probably too late, anyway. She placed her hand on his forearm, the thin fabric of his white shirt not stopping her from feeling the warmth of his skin. “Barrett...”
Rather than responding, he shifted forward as if to shield her, and she understood why when light footfalls made her tense.