Chapter 11

Every meal that Beth had sat down to in the last two days had been painfully

awkward, and the rehearsal dinner was no exception. She endured stares and whispers,

moments of uncomfortable silence. A whole buffet of social awkwardness.

There were good moments too. Isobel had laughed with her. Spencer was seated at

the other end of the table, and was, therefore, easy to ignore. And her mother had actually

hugged her when she walked into the restaurant. It was as close to an apology as she was

ever going to get.

Even with Alex next to her, Beth kept looking over her shoulder. He kept one hand

on her the whole time. He was either holding her hand, cupping her knee, or had one

draped over her shoulder. The message was clear.

I am here.

She was grateful for the reminder. His presence was the only thing that was keeping

her sane. And not just because of the ever-present assassination threat. He helped get her

through the dinner with friends and family as well. No matter what, he kept smiling.

It was an odd disconnect. Though everyone at the table thought that he was a man of

questionable repute, they all clearly liked him. It was almost impossible not to like Alex

when he turned on the charm. Of course, she still had to remember to call him Charlie.

She found herself slipping more than once.

A few people noticed and raised their eyebrows. Alex only winked. It was sweet.

And sexy as hell.

She was falling for him. Hard.

It was a stupid thing to do. Not because of what he did—he was one of the good

guys, after all—and not because she feared that she might mess up his concentration, but

because she knew he would leave.

She figured she had about a fifty/fifty chance of making it through the weekend

alive. She didn't want her dying thought to be that she didn't grab every moment of

sweetness that life had to offer. On the other hand, if she did somehow manage to walk

away from this whole thing, she knew that Alex would be walking in the other direction.

She was just a job to him. A job with perks, sure, but a job all the same. If she gave too

much of her heart away, she knew she'd be crushed.

Still, she'd suffered through broken hearts before. And with the help of a few sappy

songs and more than a few quarts of Ben and Jerry's, she'd survived.

But those guys hadn't been Alex. She wasn't sure anybody survived Alex. Not in any

sense.

At least her appetite had returned. Good thing too. The béarnaise sauce that was

slathered over her chicken was phenomenal. Her mother tsked across the table at her as

she soaked some up on a piece of bread. Beth just smiled back before popping it into her

mouth.

Her mother's disapproving stare didn't last long. Isobel stood at the head of the table

and lifted her glass.

"I want to thank everyone for coming today. Thanks to my parents and to my family

who traveled here from all over the world. Thanks to all the Masterson family for

welcoming me. And thank you to all my friends who have come to share in the

celebration. But I'd like to give a special thanks to my lifelong friend, Beth Bradley.

We've always been there for each other, ever since we were kids. We've had a lot of

adventures, and more than our fair share of misadventures. I just want you to know I

wouldn't give them up for anything, and I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Beth felt her eyes begin to burn. Big, fat tears slipped down her cheeks, but she

smiled as she lifted her glass.

"Beth has been promising all week that she won't cry at the ceremony tomorrow. But

I'm kind of hoping that she will. Big emotions are nothing to be ashamed of. Showing

how you feel about the people in your life is nothing to hide. So go ahead and cry all you

want, Beth. Just don't get any on my dress."

A chorus of cheers went up at the table.

Beth flashed a smile at her best friend. Just like that—just like the best friend that she

was—Isobel helped Beth make up her mind.

Beth finished her dinner, but didn't wait for dessert. She said her goodbyes, hugged

her mom and kissed her best friend. She resisted kicking the legs of Spencer's chair out

from under him as she passed by. She probably didn't need to make every emotion public.

***

Alex took a good long look at Beth as the elevator doors shut. She was beautiful—

even with red-rimmed eyes. She wore her emotions openly, and her failure to hide them

made her gorgeous. She was naturally honest, even when she was lying.

He knew why she didn't stick around for dessert. It had nothing to do with fitting into

a dress tomorrow. And it wasn't because she was afraid. Earlier, he had felt her tremble

when they first sat down, but now she was calm.

She kissed him as soon as the doors of the elevator shut. There was no pressing

urgency spurred by fear, or relief at still being alive. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately

over his. She lifted her hands to his face, and pulled him closer.

Her tenderness moved him. Just because the urgency was gone didn't mean the

passion was. Desire grew within him as her tongue caressed his bottom lip.

If she wasn't careful, he was going to take her right here in the elevator. What the

hell? It was probably the safest place in the hotel right now. The only place that he was

absolutely sure there wasn't anyone waiting to hurt her.

He eyed the emergency stop button before disregarding the tempting idea. They

would only have time for a quick tumble against the walls before the maintenance crew

found them. That wasn't the kind of night he wanted, and, based on the slow promise of

her kiss, it wasn't what she wanted either.

Beth kept right on kissing him even after the elevator doors opened. He pulled away

just long enough to walk down the hall. One of John's agents was standing guard at the

door of the stairwell. The man glanced his way, but didn't acknowledge them in any way.

But if he had made the agent, someone else would too. It was a hard balance. They

needed the place well guarded, but it was difficult to pull off without being obvious.

Not that Alex cared. Beth's safety was the only thing that mattered. They would get

this bastard some other way if they had to.

He hurried her into the room and resumed their kiss. He pulled at his tie. She

unzipped her dress and began to unbutton his shirt.

Her feather-light kisses slowly stoked the fire building inside him. He slid his hands

down from the curve of her waist, over her hips, to the flowing fabric of her dress. He

walked his fingers up, lifting the material above the curve of her hips.

She shook her head, breaking the kiss as she did.

"Not here," she said.

Alex had to blink a few times to see through the haze of desire.

"Where then?" he asked, looking around the room.

She smiled. "That tub. You know how much I want to be in that tub."

A slow smile took over his face. Of course. It was perfect.

He went into the bathroom and started the water. Steam swirled around the room as a

cascade of warm water filled the antique tub. He slid his shirt the rest of the way down

his arms.

She stood in the doorway behind him, wearing only her bra and panties. Pink silk

clung to her dramatic curves. Alex's mouth watered. She was the tastiest thing he'd ever

seen, full and ripe and ready to be slowly savored.

He went back to her kisses, wrapping his arms around her, reveling in the softness of

her skin. With deft fingers, he unhooked her bra. He had to stand back to let it drift down

to the floor. Her breasts were perfect. Full and round and begging to be kissed. Even in

the wet warmth of the bathroom her nipples were hard and tight. He bent his head down

and drew one into his mouth, twirling the hard nub with his tongue. Her head fell back

against the doorjamb, and he was treated to the gorgeous sound of her pleasure-drenched

moans.

Dear God, he couldn't remember his cock ever being so hard in his life, and he didn't

even have her pants off yet.

He needed to rectify that. Now.

He made his way down her belly, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He bent down on

his knees before her, and hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties. With aching

slowness he dragged them over her pale skin, exposing her pussy.

She was trembling. He glanced up to see if it was anticipation or anxiety over being

naked that had her shaking. A mixture of both, he decided. It was all right. He knew a

way to take her mind off her fears.

He wrapped his fingers around her left leg and draped it over his shoulder. She was

beautiful. Every inch of her. Every part. He kissed her again, his tongue moving slowly

between her lips.

She tasted every bit as sweet as he'd imagined. He turned slow circles around her clit

until her little moans were breathy and more urgent. Her hands curled into his shoulders,

pressing him forward. She didn't mind asking for more of what she wanted. And he was

only too happy to comply.

Her legs started to shudder. He pressed his hands against her body to hold her

upright. Her shaking became more intense, her moans more urgent, until he felt her break

and loosen against him. Only then did he stop and rise to his feet.

He didn't waste any time stripping off the rest of his clothes, and discarded them in a

pile on the bathroom tile. He settled into the tub first. She followed, sitting down on his

lap. Her legs nestled against his side. She slowly descended, taking him all the way in

one stroke.

Damn, she felt good. Soft and wet and everything that he'd ever wanted. Her legs

were still shaky, and she moved slowly. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He

was going to savor her. Every stroke. Every heartbeat. Every breath.

He wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her. He didn't break the kiss. Not

once. Not as the warm water surrounding their moving bodies sloshed over the side of the

tub. Not as the pleasure of her body sliding against his grew until he felt as though he

would lose himself entirely in her. And when he finally did break, he clutched her to him

as if she were the source of everything he'd ever needed.

***

Beth wrapped the hotel robe around her body. She'd finally relented and climbed

from the tub. She couldn't stay in there forever. She was half prune as it was. And while

Alex had shown her in every imaginable way that he had absolutely no problem with her

body, she wasn't sure yet that she wanted to push the limits of his tolerance by going full

prune on the poor guy.

Water clung to her legs as she stepped out of the bathroom. Alex was already

dressed...well, clothed...well, partially. He had on a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. It

wasn't exactly evening wear, but dear Lord, he still looked sexy as hell.

He looked up at her from the message he was reading on his phone and smiled.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said.

Hey, sweetheart.

That was enough to make her a puddle on the floor. She was such a softie.

There was a knock on the door. Alex's head immediately snapped up.

"Room service," a voice from the other side said.

Alex pulled his gun from the holster on the floor, and tucked it into the back

waistband of his boxers. Only then did he go to the door.

"We didn't order any room service," he said.

"It's from a John Ryman. He called from down in the lobby. Said it was a shame you

didn't stay for dessert and champagne. Figured you might want this after an hour or so."

Even through the door, Beth could hear the laughter in the man's voice.

"Come on," Beth said. "I seriously doubt that assassins knock."

"Shows what you know," Alex said with a tilt of his head.

"I can leave it outside if, you know, this isn't a good time," the voice said.

Alex undid the chain. Then the two other locks that held the door secure. He cracked

it open slowly, his hand never leaving the butt of his gun. After a second, he let the door

fall open.

A metal cart rolled into the room, pushed by the same waiter they'd run into in the

corridor. The one that Alex had put into a choke hold not three hours ago.

"Hey, it's you," the guy said with a big smile. Apparently, he wasn't the kind to hold

grudges. Alex didn't look half as happy to see him. "Is there any chance that you could

show me how you pulled off that sick move earlier?"

"No chance in hell."

"That's too bad," he said. "Not many people get the drop on me. I'd like to have

known how you did it."

Beth felt a tickle of unease as the waiter reached behind him and started to pull

something out of his back waistband. She took a step to the side, so she was positioned

behind the couch, as the waiter turned toward her. She didn't wait. She listened to her gut

and threw herself on the ground. She caught a flash of gunmetal as she fell.

She heard the gun go off. It was quieter than she expected. He must have had a

silencer. Shards of wood floated to the floor as the bullet embedded in the wardrobe five

feet behind her.

Beth lifted her head in time to see Alex slam into the other man. The waiter quickly

recovered and tried turning the gun in Alex's direction. But the men were too close.

Alex grabbed the man's wrist and yanked it back hard. There were no broken bones

this time, but the gun fell. Alex took a hard hit to the jaw, but he took it without

complaint. And gave one of his own right back.

The hits flew so fast Beth had a hard time keeping track. This guy was better than

the last. There was no doubt about that. He kept up with the speed of Alex's punches,

deflecting the worst of the attack.

Alex might need her help. She looked around for the gun and found it underneath the

couch, just out of reach. She tried to squeeze her way under, but couldn't quite fit. She

desperately stretched out her arm, past the point of pain. Her fingers just barely brushed

the butt. She flicked at it, willing it to move into her hand, until she finally got a decent

grip on it.

She'd never held a real gun before, just water pistols when she was a kid, but she

figured the idea was the same. Business end points at bad guy. Pull the trigger. Except if

she did manage to fire this thing, something a hell of a lot worse than someone getting

wet would happen.

Beth popped up from behind the couch. She tried to aim at the waiter, but her hands

were shaking too hard. She straightened her arms and locked her elbows. It didn't help.

Not that it mattered. The men were fighting too close for her to risk taking a shot.

Both men were taking a beating. Blood trickled from cuts on their faces. Body blows

hit with sickening thuds, but other than that they didn't make a sound. Neither grunted.

Neither cried out.

The waiter landed a solid hit into Alex's gut. Alex backed up a step, breathing hard.

It looked like he was in trouble. The assassin must have thought the same thing. He took

advantage, going for another hard blow to Alex's side. But Alex didn't crumple.

Instead, in a flash, he grasped the man's forearm and twisted the arm back at an

unnatural angle. Only then did the waiter make a sound. It wasn't a scream exactly, but a

muffled yelp that was no less sickening. Alex took advantage of the waiter's injury,

twisting his elbow until it crooked behind his spine. Alex slung his other arm around the

man's throat, immobilizing him.

Only then did Alex look over at her. He was breathing hard, and his face was

bleeding pretty bad. It was obvious that he was favoring his right side. Beth realized that

he had faked his injury, at least partially. But he hadn't fallen. She should have known

that it would have taken a hell of a lot more than that to bring Alex Tanner down.

What had John said? He would have brought an army.

Alex positioned himself so his back was against the wall, holding the waiter fast in

his arms. The guy wasn't going anywhere. Beth closed her eyes and turned her face. She

didn't want to watch as another guy crumpled to the floor with a broken neck.

"Get my phone," Alex said. She opened one eye and peeked. The waiter, or whoever

the hell he was, was still alive. "Find John in my contact list and tell him we need

backup."

Beth nodded. She dropped the gun on the couch and looked around for Alex's phone.

It was on the bedside table. Her legs were shaky, but she made it there all right. It turned

out her fingers were even shakier. It took her three attempts to dial John before she

succeeded.

It was a good thing she hadn't tried to shoot that gun after all.

The phone only rang once.

"Go," a voice said from the other end.

"Um...John," she said. It was only after she heard her own voice that she realized

that she was crying.

"Beth? What's going on? Where's Alex?" It was the closest thing to emotion that

she'd heard in his voice.

"He's okay. But we need some help."

The man started to struggle anew in Alex's grasp. Alex jolted his arm up again. This

time there was a harsh crack and the man moaned as he sagged in Alex's arms.

"Backup," Alex repeated. "We need backup."

"He says backup," Beth said into the phone, "but I'm sticking with help."

It didn't take the cavalry long to arrive. John was there before the tears dried on

Beth's cheeks. There were two other men with him. There would have been four, he said,

but the other two were busy helping the agent they'd found shot at the end of the hallway.

The man she'd seen when they'd stepped from the elevator. Beth felt her heart sink to

the floor. The tears welled up again and rolled down her cheeks.

This was all because of her. A man had been shot because of her. Alex's face and

body had taken a beating because of her. God knew how many more were putting their

lives in danger, all because of her.

"He's going to live," John told her. His voice was as flat as ever, but he put his hand

on her shoulder for a millisecond. She looked up at him and smiled. He was trying to

comfort her. He was terrible at it, but at least he was trying. That was what mattered.

The two men with John wasted no time hauling off the waiter.

"Where are you taking him?" Beth asked.

Both John and Alex looked at her, mouths closed. Yeah, she shouldn't have expected

an answer.

***

It shouldn't have happened. He knew better. He knew the danger out there, and he'd

allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. It wasn't like him at all.

Alex looked at his bloody face in the bathroom mirror. He was lucky that this was

the only price he had to pay for his momentary lapse in judgment. Beth could have been

killed.

He slammed his fist down hard on the porcelain sink.

Damn, he knew better. Maybe John was right. Maybe he had let his emotions cloud

his mind.

"You all right in here?" John appeared in the doorway.

"I'm fine," Alex said through gritted teeth.

"I can tell. You look like hell."

Alex started dabbing at his face. "I've had worse."

"That you have. How's the rest of you?"

Alex washed most of the blood off his face and assessed his injuries.

He had a cut above his right eye. Another on his cheek. His nose was bleeding but

not broken. There was a hell of a bruise forming on his jaw.

He lifted his shirt and took a look in the mirror. His side was red as hell, and there

was already some purple showing through, but other than that he was fine.

"Battered, but not broken," Alex said.

John nodded. "I'll double the guard on the floor tonight. You guys get some sleep. I

have a feeling this last defeat isn't going to sit well with our guy."

Alex turned from the mirror. His muscles were beginning to ache as the adrenaline

fled his body.

"You think he'll try again tonight?"

"I doubt it. He's going to need to regroup and come up with a new plan," John said.

"Hopefully we'll be able to get some information out of this latest guy. Thanks for not

snapping his neck."

"I wanted to," Alex admitted.

"I know." John clapped him on the shoulder. Alex winced.

"You sure you're all right?" John asked. "You don't need me to send anyone else in?"

Alex glared at his friend. "I'm not leaving her, John."

John looked at him long and hard before nodding again. "All right then," he said

before turning and leaving.

The room stayed silent. Alex helped Beth into the bed, and pulled her into his arms.

She cried for a little longer before sleep took her, and her breathing slowed. He kept his

arms around her and waited for his mind to stop buzzing long enough for sleep to find

him as well.

But it wasn't the fear of more attacks that kept him awake. It was the last thing he'd

said to John.

He wasn't leaving her. He'd meant it. And he hadn't just been talking about tonight.