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“No.” He leans down to drag the end of his nose along my neckline.
I shiver beneath the touch and his closeness. Damn, the man smells good, too good for his own good. At least if he’s the reaper coming for me, he looks like this.
“Follow me if you want to avoid security.”
Without waiting for an answer from me, he takes my hand, linking our fingers together. Wait a minute…is hehelpingme?
“You’re going to have to play along if you want this to work. Do what I say, or you’ll regret it,” he says. “Nod if you understand.”
My attention focuses on the moment, the sensation of his calloused palm in mine, and the click clacking of my heels along the pavement. Not to mention—
“Lacey! What the fuck is happening? Talk to me. Are you okay? What is going on?” Wes’ voice buzzes inside of my ear. “Your location changed.”
I can’t answer him—the man is already half dragging me back inside, but this time, we cut to the head of the line. He slips my hand into the crook of his elbow, linking us together and holding me close, like we’re a couple.
Like we belong together.
What the fuck is happeningindeed.
His touch turns caressing, the sort of absentminded gesture a man in love might make while they’re out in public. I don’t even know his name.
He takes us past the two guards waving their metal detecting wands; up ahead, through the door, is a secondary detector. He drags me forward confidently, and the detector beeps, sending a shockwave through my system. Without pausing, the man points to his hip, and the gun he no doubt has hidden there.
Much to my eternal shock and a little bit of dismay, he is automatically waved through.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs to me.
The convention center’s massive main area has been transformed into a grand ballroom, bedecked in gold, red, and green. The latter comes from garlands strung along every available surface, on top of four different Christmas trees with differing decor on each of their boughs.
I stop dead in my tracks, and my mysterious savior pauses along with me while I take in the view.
Christmas used to mean something to me. It used to be fun and light and joyful, all the things the Hallmark movies and relentless commercials try to sell you, but things happen. Family dynamics change and people die. It makes the season a little less bright and a whole less merry. Recently, it’s been about work, but maybe…maybe I should actually call Mom when I get out of here, see what she’s been doing and how well she’s been holding up without me in her life.
Work has been my sanctuary and my escape, a way for me to avoid all the things I’ve needed to avoid while keeping myself busy and building a future for myself.
Except, standing here right now, none of those things matter. There’s only the beautiful decorations, the bodies twirling in time with soft Christmas music on the dance floor, and the man at my side, the one giving off enough heat to thaw an iceberg.
I chance a look at him and find him watching me again.
“What are your motives?” I ask him out loud. “I mean, why did you help me?”
A small smile tweaks the corner of his mouth. “You mean besides wanting to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman?”
“Lacey, breathe. Calm. You’re in. I can’t come and get you. You’re going to have to stay focused and get yourself out of this mess.” Wes’ voice sounds tinny in my ear.
Does he know I’ve lost my gun? That I’m flying blind at this point?
“Of course you have a motive,” I reply. This is probably a trap. I’m about to die. The knowledge lodges in my throat, along with a churning low in my abdomen.
One of the guards cuts across the dance floor and addresses my stranger with a sharp bob of his head. “Marco, I’m going to need your help with something.”
“What is it now?” He doesn’t even glance at the man—he just continues to stare at me. A girl might drown in eyes so deep and brown, I’m sure of it.
“It’s…one of those times where nothing is enough to calm the beast,” the guard answers in a low baritone.
Realization clicks then, a flash of sickening inspiration. I know who this man is—Marco Zicari, Stefan’s younger brother and his second-in-command.
I amsodead.
