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BELLE

A bomb threat? At the wedding?

Fitch tried reassuring me that these kind of security problems happen often with his family and that everything will be fine, but that did nothing to quell the terror that’s gripping my chest.

I’ve been engaged for a month, under constant surveillance from a private security firm for the last three weeks, and yet I’m still terrified as I pull up to the Cooper mansion with the man assigned as my driver this evening. He looks tough and has a gun, but he’s just not him.

Conrad…

I’d feel so much better if he was here.

The man who drives me home at night, who tests my drinks for drugs, who double-checks the security of my doors and sweeps all the rooms for bugging equipment. The man who bought me keychain-mace and showed me how to use it if any man tried to assault me. He might as well be my savior.

When I’m around him, the ground I walk on feels much more solid. And without him here, I feel lost. Vulnerable.

I’ve been doing my best not to let my feelings show, but when we pass in the hall or I sit beside him when he drives me home, that’s when I feel safe. Like no harm can come to me.

Now as I’m escorted into the manor, I feel exposed. My skin is cold. I’m quivering as I’m taken into the lounge where Fitch is waiting. I see he’s scared too but desperately trying to hide it. I try not to recoil as he wraps his arms around me and not let on that I’m revolted by the fact that we’re going to be married.

Pretend you like him, Belle . That’s what my parents say.

I grew up poor like you read about in books. Chewing through stale pasta, eating overcooked expired meat and lots and lots of dried noodles. When I was fourteen, my dad got his dream job as a paralegal for Fitch’s father, Daniel. Don’t ask me how, but he managed to convince Daniel that I would be a great match for his son. And like medieval times, tomorrow I’m being married off in an arranged marriage that I either go through with or my parents cut me off and throw me out on my ass.

One terrible family to the next.

“Everything will be okay,” Fitch whispers into my ear, his voice quivering like a stalk of wheat in the wind.

I don’t believe him.

The door opens, and Conrad strides into the lounge like a gladiator. My entire being relaxes. I instantly feel better. Relieved. Safe. Protected.

He is built like an Adonis, standing heads taller than his men, making him at least six-foot-four with broad shoulders, striated forearms, and the thick, callused hands of a working man. He’s also mind-numbingly handsome. And not in a girly, pretty-boy way either–like the recent wave of male movie stars–but in a classic way, with a chiseled jaw and knife-sharp cheekbones. Knowing he was a Marine just makes him that much hotter.

It’s nearly impossible for me to hide my attraction from him, so I make it a point of simply trying to avert my eyes whenever I’m around him. I don’t want to give him any ideas. After all, he’s a seasoned veteran, hired to protect me. What would he want with an eighteen-year-old virgin who has zero experience with men?

The female staff all talk about how sexy he is. One of them even made a pass at him and was devastated when he immediately turned her down. I tried not to smile when I heard her screaming about it out back.

I want to rush over to him now and hurl myself into his massive arms, but that would be a major red flag. Not only to Fitch but to Conrad too. So I wait and inch slowly closer to him, like a moon being pulled by its planet’s gravitational force.

“Don’t be afraid, Belle,” he says, fixing his cinder-gray eyes on me. “I’m sure this is nothing. I’ll take care of it. You’re safe.”

I don’t know why, but I’m nearly crying as I smile back at his stoic visage. “I know you’ll protect me.” I feel Fitch’s jealous eyes on me and quickly correct myself. “Protect us .”

He shifts his eyes to Fitch, and I feel a welling loss that nearly knocks me down. “Tell me about this threat,” he says, firm and straight to the point.

Fitch has his hands on his hips, trying to look like he’s in control. “It came in twenty minutes ago. I asked your tech guy to trace it, but he said it came from a burner phone–”

Conrad nods. “Untraceable. That’s typical in situations like this.”

His competence is alluring. I realize I’m still walking toward him, my feet moving on their own while my eyes are glued to his handsome face. Something I should not be feeling stirs between my thighs. I barely know this man. I’m set to be wed tomorrow. Yet he has me feeling on fire, alive, brimming with adventure.

“I bet it’s a prank.” Fitch shrugs, acting nonchalant, but his voice trembles with fear. “One of my exes trying to screw with me. I say we ramp up security tomorrow and go through with the wedding.”

The wedding. Simply hearing those words from his lips has me instantly feeling nauseous.

This last month has felt like a slow countdown to a metaphorical bomb exploding which will forever maim my future life. How ironic that the wedding might be postponed by an actual bomb threat.

“Impossible,” Conrad says, pinning his eyes back on me. “If this threat is real, you are in serious danger.”

“Why would someone want to do this?” My hands begin to shake, but Conrad moves in quickly and takes them in his, holding them with care and security.

“Is that a joke, Belle?” He shakes his head slightly in disbelief. “There are countless men who would love to have you–” He stops himself. His eyes flit back and forth as though he just snapped out of a trance and remembered where he was. His mind must really be on the problem at hand. He glances at Fitch then back at me. “There are countless weirdos who would call in a threat like this to stop your wedding.”

I’m suddenly cold, and I find myself wishing I could slip beneath his warm, muscled arms. “You mean like…a stalker?”

Conrad nods. “I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“So what the hell do we do then?” Fitch barks. His resolve is breaking. He’s been raised with such privilege he’s never had to deal with anything himself.

“We postpone until my team has done a full sweep of the area.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Fitch groans in protest.

“In the meantime, I’m assigning a security detail to you. You’ll be taken to a safehouse.”

Fitch’s eyes widen, gawking back at Conrad like a little boy. “A safehouse? You’re joking.”

“Don’t worry,” Conrad replies firmly. “It’s five-star with all the amenities. Think of it as a mini-vacation.”

My stomach sinks. A mini-vacation locked up in a hotel with Fitch until this bomb threat is sorted out? Sounds more like pure torture to me.

“Belle, you’ll be taken to another site,” Conrad says, his voice warm like tea with honey.

“Another…site?” I whimper, confused. Conrad snaps his fingers, and three of his men enter the room and take their places beside Fitch like they’re protecting the president. “But why?”

Conrad’s Adam’s apple moves as he swallows hard. His jaw clenches tight. “So you both are not a single target. We’ll take multiple cars too. It will confuse anyone potentially tailing us.”

An odd tension hangs in the air for a tense, silent moment. It’s like we’re all standing on a tightrope waiting for it to snap. Fitch is angrily running his hands through his hair, but Conrad simply stands there stalwart, like a broad statue.

The longer I look at him, the more the warm, tingling sensation between my legs grows and grows, embedding a yearning within my core that seems to draw me closer and closer to him. It’s like the universe revolves around him. What an incredible man he must be to command all these other capable men who work for him.

“Where will you take her?” Fitch asks, but Conrad shakes his head and makes a quiet tsk-tsk noise with his lips against his teeth.

“I can’t tell you,” he replies firmly. “If you have a stalker, Belle, they may have bugged the manor. Until my team has swept for microphones, I can’t say out loud where I’ll be taking you.”

The tickle between my legs expands, and I feel heat in the tips of my fingers. Don’t blush. Don’t blush! But it’s too late. I feel the tingling in my cheeks and immediately turn away, pretending I have something in my eye to avoid being embarrassed by my reaction to Conrad’s unyielding competence.

“Whoever this son of a bitch is, I want him found!” Fitch shouts, his voice nearly breaking as he rages. “So I can punish him personally!”

Luckily my back is turned to him so he can’t see me scoff. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Fitch, it’s that he likes to talk tough. He won’t be punishing anyone. Now or ever.

I can’t say the same about Conrad.

With a simple nod, his men professionally escort Fitch to the door. “Don’t worry, Belle. This will all be over soon. I’ll see to everything.”

I nod. “It’s okay, Fitch. I’m sure Conrad will protect me.”

I’m almost sure I catch a glint of something in Conrad’s eye as he glances over at me, but just as soon as it’s there, it’s gone.