Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Uh, Violet," Rodrigo said once she'd let him and Katrina into her bungalow, about an hour after Max's desire to talk. "Why is Max gagged and handcuffed to a chair?"
Katrina looked horrified and rushed toward Max, where he was sitting at the dining table.
Violet stepped in front of her. "Do not free him. He won't shut up and I need some quiet time to think."
To her disgust, Katrina was nowhere near as intimidated as she should have been. Violet worried she was losing her edge.
"You can't leave him like that," Katrina said. "He's the client." She said the last word like he was the messiah.
"I know who he is." She glared at Max, who rolled his eyes above the makeshift gag—a pair of clean sports socks. "But Max needs to learn that talking isn't the answer to every situation."
"Oh, for goodness sake." Katrina pushed past her and unfastened the gag from Max's mouth. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Benson Security doesn't usually treat their clients like this."
Violet snorted; how little she knew.
Katrina carried on. "Please don't put this in any article you may write about us."
It was Violet's turn to roll her eyes. "He won't give us bad press," she informed her teammate. "I told him I'd shoot off his little toes if he did."
"Violet!" Katrina rooted around in her handbag and came out with a key for the cuffs. Traitor.
"Don't worry," Max said as he rubbed his wrists. "This is between Violet and me. I promise nothing she does will affect how I view Benson Security." He gave her a dark look full of sensual promise. "This is personal."
Whatever.
You share one mind-blowing kiss with a guy, and he thinks he owns you.
Men.
Rodrigo rubbed his chin. "Have to say, I have some concerns. So far there's been mention of drugging, handcuffing, a knee to the balls, and now gagging." He considered Violet. "Should I be worried?"
"Nope," Max replied for her, proving once and for all that he had a death wish. "This is how Violet and I communicate."
"Well, you might want to work on your communication style because the boss is heading for the island. I spoke to her last night and she's worried about us. She'll be here this afternoon, along with the missing two-thirds of the triplets."
"Doesn't she trust us to get the job done?" Violet asked feeling deeply offended.
"I think it's more that she's afraid we're stretched too thin. Which is understandable considering Damien is amassing an army and your family will need protection while we work. There's no denying a few more hands would help."
She couldn't argue with that. "Speaking of my family. We've all been ordered to breakfast on the terrace. Apparently, this is what families do at weddings. They all hang out together, twenty-four-seven, until the bride and groom are finally freed from their obligations and can run away."
"You mean go on their honeymoon?" Rodrigo asked, his eyes dancing.
"All I know," Violet said, "is that we're being held hostage until the wedding is cancelled, so prepare for family breakfast, lunch, and dinner because there's no getting out of any of this. Trust me. I tried."
"This is probably a stupid question," Katrina said. "But what would happen if we told your family the truth."
Violet mimed a nuclear explosion.
"Okay, then we don't do that," Katrina said with a nod.
"Can't we send them off on a tour of St. Patrice?" Max said.
"They won't go." Violet gritted the words out. "There are wedding traditions to perform. I'm told they're set in stone."
"Like?" Rodrigo asked.
Violet clenched her fists, feeling her nails bite into her palms. "My mother and sister want to see my dress."
Katrina made a strangled sound. "That might not be a good idea.
" She gave them an anxious glance. "I picked it up in a sale, got the cheapest one because I figured it was purely for show and you'd never wear it anyway.
I don't even think it's your size, but it definitely isn't your style.
" She cleared her throat. "Have you looked at it? "
"No," Violet said stalking through to the closet. "But I'm doing it now."
Her team followed her, and Katrina helped her to get the dress out of the bag.
"What is this netting stuff?" Violet poked at the skirt.
It was all netting. An abundance of it. More than any fishing trawler would ever need.
"And is that lacework?" She closed her eyes for a second.
"My granny, on my dad's side, used to have doilies that looked like that.
" She faced Katrina. "Netting and doilies? "
"Cheap," Katrina said. "I never thought anyone would see you wearing it."
"And they won't." Violet stuffed it back in the bag.
"Um, Violet," Katrina said. "Your family is going to want to see you in the dress."
Violet stopped zipping up the bag. "Before the wedding?"
Katrina nodded. "Yep."
Violet looked at the men. "Is that normal? I thought the dress was supposed to be a secret before the ceremony."
"Usually, the mother or sister have input," Max said with authority.
"Most times they'd go shopping with you and give you an opinion on your choices.
" He shrugged. "I've been through this, remember? I’d have been happy to share my knowledge, but it would have meant talking, and we all know how you feel about that. "
Violet glared at him. "This is your fault. I should be thinking about ways to get into Damien's estate, but instead I'm worried about my family giving me a hard time over a dress I didn't pick and have no intention of wearing. If I could, I'd shoot you."
"I know." He took the bag from her hands and hung it back in the closet.
Carefully, he put an arm around her shoulder and steered her through the bungalow to the dining room.
"Why don't you sit here while I get ready.
I'll be fast. Then we can get some food in you before you go postal. Did you secure your gun?"
"Yes," she snapped.
"Sunscreen on?"
She growled.
"Then all we need is for me to get dressed," he said, jogging to the bedroom. "Don't leave without me."
"If only we could," Violet muttered.
Abasi had finagled his way into the role of their breakfast waiter. He stood beside the table, a look of wry amusement on his face as he watched her family argue over what to eat. With a slow, delighted smile, he turned to Violet and lowered his voice.
"This is adorable," he said. "The whole family turned out for your special day. Bet you're thrilled."
Violet wished her gun wasn't hidden in the bungalow.
"Don't you have someone to serve?" she asked with a heavy dose of snark.
"Your wish is my command," he said sweetly. "After all, you are the bride."
Oh, he was so cruising for a bruising. He grinned wider as she scowled at him.
"Excuse me, waiter," her mother called from the other side of the long table. "Can you tell me, is the breakfast buffet worth the money?"
"Absolutely." Abasi was effortlessly charming.
"And it's also the only way to get a decent, English-style, cooked breakfast around here.
They don't do one on the menu, so you have to cobble it together from the buffet.
They've got pretty much everything over there, except black pudding, but I talked the cook into adding baked beans. "
"That's for me." Harvey shot to his feet, beaming through his ginger beard. He thought the beard gave him a hipster vibe. Violet thought it made him look like a clichéd, cartoon version of a Scot
"I think that sounds good too," her dad said, following Harvey, only doing a better job of hiding his eagerness than his son-in-law.
"Remember your cholesterol," her mother called after him.
Violet's grandmother patted her mother's hand. "Let the boys have their fun. This is a time of celebration. Tomorrow, we worry about things like cholesterol."
And just like that, guilt swamped Violet.
She had no problems keeping the rest of her family in the dark, after all, it was for their own good.
But she was going to hell for lying to her grandmother.
Worse, it wouldn't take much for Lian Ferguson to become suspicious, and then she'd simply stare Violet down until she blurted out her crimes.
Note to self: avoid grandmother until this whole thing is over.
As if Violet's thoughts could be read on the air, Lian suddenly looked over the table and straight into Violet's soul.
She flashed her grandmother an innocent smile.
It was a rookie move. Lian saw through fake innocence like Superman saw through walls.
Fortunately, her mother started talking again and drew her grandmother's attention away from Violet.
"You look familiar," her mother said to Abasi. "Have you ever been to Glasgow?"
"Not officially, no," Abasi said making her mum frown in confusion. "I had a business acquaintance who lived there but sadly he died recently."
In other words, Abasi had sneaked into the city in the dead of night and killed the man. Just more James Syndicate clean-up for the mobster who was attempting the weirdest amends she'd ever seen.
Before Abasi could say anything else to arouse her mother's curiosity, Violet waved her menu. "I'll have the fruit platter," she told Abasi.
Discussion forgotten, the rest of the table gave him their breakfast orders.
When Abasi rounded the table to Rodrigo, he cast a quick glance at Violet's family before raising his eyebrows at Violet. Obviously, he had stuff to say and wanted some privacy. Which meant, she had to make small talk. Which was not her skill. That’s when it suddenly struck her—Max liked to talk.
Why not use his ability for good instead of evil?
With a satisfied smile, she waved a hand at her mother. "Mum, you haven't asked Max about the kind of stories he writes. It's fascinating, isn't it Max?"
His sparkling eyes told her he knew exactly what she was doing, but he seemed game to be the distraction her team needed.
He instantly launched into a dramatic tale of how he infiltrated a maple syrup smuggling operation.
After her mother and sister got over their amusement that the story revolved around maple syrup, they seemed engrossed by his recounting of the tale.
Violet had to give him credit. He was easy to listen to when he wasn't asking lots of stupid questions.
She cast a glance in Rodrigo's direction and saw he'd finished his discussion with Abasi.
He indicated his phone before tapping at the screen.
Hers buzzed in the pocket of her only pair of shorts.
She took it out and read the message: Problem planting bugs.
Team meeting after breakfast. Make an excuse for you and Max.
Easier said than done, Violet thought but nodded his way.
After they'd finished eating, and Max had entertained her family with several stories of his investigative reporting, her mother pushed back her plate and eyed Violet.
"About that dress," she said sweetly.
"Yes!" Violet said with fake enthusiasm. "I can't wait for you to see what I'm wearing for our wedding but," she got to her feet and reached for Max's hand, "we can't do it now. Max and I have his-and-hers massages booked."
The look of astonishment on the faces of her family would have been hilarious if she wasn't trapped in her own version of hell.
"We do?" He cleared his throat and stood beside her. "We do. It's been lovely talking with you. Guess we'll see you at lunch?"
"Yes." Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Let's have it in your bungalow so we can see this dress."
Typical, her mother had always been one step ahead of her kids.
"That sounds perfect," Violet said. "See you later."
She led Max away from the table.
As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, "What are we doing really? I know we don't have massages this morning because when I said we did, you said: over your dead body. That was when I postponed the booking until after our wedding when we aren't on the island."
"We need to have a team meeting," she said. "We're heading to Rodrigo's room. It's the only way to ditch the family."
"They're going to expect you to look all glowing and relaxed after this, you know that right?"
"I'll fake it," she said.
He burst out laughing then held up a hand when she glared at him. "No, seriously, I'm eager to see this. Carry on."
Violet tightened her grip on his hand, wondering why it felt so easy and natural to hold it.
The bloody guy was slipping under her defenses.
He was like one of those dogs who turn up on your doorstep and never go away.
They wore you down with puppy-dog eyes and little whines for attention.
Next thing you know, you're sharing your bed with a fleabag and wondering how it happened.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't think I'm going to adopt you like some sort of stray," she said.
He cocked an eyebrow her way. "I'm assuming the first half of this conversation happened in your head. Want to fill me in?"
"Never mind," she said grumpily. "All I'm saying is don't get too comfortable being with me. Our growing ease around each other is purely a matter of proximity."
"Okaaaay," he said. "So, that kiss earlier, was only because I happened to be in the room?"
"The kiss was part of the mission. It was practice. You said so yourself."
"It started out that way then shot straight into the stratosphere," he said. "If I hadn't stopped things, we'd have ended up back in bed."
"No, we wouldn't." That was a lie, but Violet was thinking more clearly now.
What happened earlier was an anomaly. They'd barely been awake and hadn't been thinking straight.
It was good he stopped things before they both did something they'd regret.
Although, part of her wished he'd kept his mouth shut.
"You're confusing real life with the needs of the mission.
Lots of clients fall in love with their bodyguards. Don't be one of them."
His smile was blinding. And there were dimples.
"So that kiss, that amazingly hot kiss, was just you playing a role for the mission?"
"Yes."
"Wow, that’s miraculous considering you have zero acting skills."
"Stop talking or I will gag you again," she warned him.
"That wouldn't look very romantic, would it?" He released her hand to sling an arm around her shoulders. "We've only gotten to the point where people aren't taking bets on us breaking up. Best not to ruin a good thing. Let's keep the kinky foreplay for our alone time."
Violet gaped up at him. "Seriously? That’s what you think is happening every time I…contain you? That the cuffs and gags and drugging is foreplay?"
"Every couple has their quirks," Max said. "We have a communication mismatch. I like to communicate verbally, and you like to communicate physically. We'll work it out."
"We are not a real couple," she ground out.
"Sure felt like it when you were climbing all over me this morning." He leaned down to press a cheeky kiss to the tip of her nose.
Violet didn’t know how to react, which made Max grin.