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“Okay, let’s start in the rose garden.” The photographer ushers them toward the exit. Once they’re out of sight, I walk toward the closed door.
I twist the handle and slowly push it open. My feet sink into the plush cream-colored carpet when I step inside. Trays of half-eaten appetizers are scattered over every tabletop, empty champagne glasses littering the place. An all-consuming cloud of perfume invades my nostrils as I lock the door behind me.
The urge to sneeze grabs hold. I struggle for a few seconds to keep it in. Fucking allergies.
I put down my tray and pull out my gun, taking a look around the place. An ornate white wedding gown hangs on the back of the closet door, and another door toward the back of the room is closed. A thin stream of light creeps out from the bottom.
Jackpot. She’s in here.
I inch closer, the gun in my outstretched hand.
A choked sob from behind the door jars me. The door opens and Skyla steps out of the bathroom dressed in a white lace bra and matching G-string. My mission fades to the back burner while my eyes hungrily drink her in from the tips of her bright red-painted toes to the ends of her long, curled locks of hair hanging over her lush tits. She’s perfect, from the smooth tan skin that my fingers itch to touch to the full pink lips that I want wrapped tight around my cock.
The bride-to-be wipes her nose with the back of her hand before doing a double take when she realizes I’m not actually a waiter. Her blue eyes pop open wide with recognition just before they land on the gun pointed straight at her.
“Zak…?” Her voice is incredulous but still so damn sexy. I remember the way it made my body hum in response like it was yesterday. I’d fantasized about hearing it again and again, preferably screaming my name for hours on end.
I step forward, my throat tight. Forcing my eyes away from her endless curves, I grit my teeth.
It doesn’t matter what I felt that night. All that matters is what I have to do right here and right now. “Surprised to see me?”
“Nauseated is more like it.” Her lips pull into a tight line and she nods at my gun. “Are you here to kill me? As if you haven’t caused me enough damage?”
“No. I’m here to save you.”
The door handle to the bridal suite jiggles. A clicking sound follows. I twist around as the door creaks open. My finger rests on the trigger, my heart stuttering to a stop. Shots fire, blunted by a silencer. A startled scream pierces the air behind me as Skyla falls to the floor.
Fuck.
I’m too late.
Chapter7
Skyla
My strangled cry pierces the air in the bridal suite. Searing pain shoots through my arm like I’m being impaled with a hot fire poker. Blood pours from the wound, dripping onto my bra and panties. Deep-red stains blossom on the lacy fabric, tainting it just like Zak did to me and my innocence… the now nonexistent innocence that Nathan Van Dyne, Tyson’s father, bartered my dad for in exchange for his silence.
I didn’t even feel the bullet tear into my flesh at first. It wasn’t until I hit the cold floor that the initial sting exploded into full-blown agony.
Tears spill onto the white tile, mixing with my blood to form dark-pink puddles around my knees. My breaths are short and sharp. Every quake of my chest makes my arm ache more.
“You’re fucking dead, Malikov.”
I cringe at the deep, menacing voice belonging to the man who burst into the suite and shredded my freaking arm.
Another muffled gunshot fires and something drops to the floor with a loud thump.
Zak…
I crawl forward, using my good arm to help pull me across the floor.
Polished black wingtips stop in front of me. I slap my free hand on the floor, my bum arm hanging limp by my side. Zak lowers himself to the floor, a flicker of concern in his normally cold blue eyes.
“I’ve got to get us out of here.” He looks around and grabs my white silk robe from the spot where I’d tossed it over a nearby chair. “There wasn’t anyone in the hallway before, but if this guy was tracking me, I’m sure he’s got backup on the way.”
“What the hell is going on?” I rasp through clenched teeth. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“So this is a happy occasion, then?” he sneers, getting in close. “You’re all in for this marriage?”
