Hero Book 3 - The Battle: Military Romance Page 7
“Better? No, my dear, we will make you feel glamorous, then all your cares will disappear,” Mia said.
The door opened and I jumped, spinning around. Haze's brown eyes met mine across the room, and relief overcame the fear that had spiked in me. I was safe. The shop was secure, and Haze was on high alert. As much as I wanted to be brave, I knew it wouldn’t be some instant thing I'd just get over.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. What if La Pomme had just hired a backroom worker and he was waiting to snatch me from the dressing room and haul me out the back? Had Haze thought to check that out?
Mia took my arm, ignoring me when I jerked. She patted my arm and gave me another smile. “I have given most of my staff the morning off. Only my top workers who have been with me for years are here. The main floor dressing room is yours. Now, let us try on some dresses.”
I squeezed her hand, grateful for the accommodations as well as the consideration. My story had been plastered all over the news and social media for days now. Grandfather wanted me to go out for me, but I knew there was another reason why tonight was so important. Not only did I have to show the kidnappers they hadn't taken anything from me or diminished me in any way, I had to show the world.
And the first step to that was finding a killer dress.
The first one was black, a tight sheath with spaghetti straps. Mia paired it with a pair of sharp patent leather heels. As Mia praised the fit, Haze glanced over then looked away.
The next dress was a vintage Dior. A strapless corset in dove gray, fitted above scalloped layers of black chiffon. Each scallop was edged with black rhinestones and the entire ombre effect made me look like I was floating. I twirled around, but Haze didn't even blink.
I frowned.
“Something a little more eye-catching?” Mia asked.
“How about jaw-dropping,” I said.
Mia flashed a wicked smile and sorted through the rack of dresses. She pulled out an emerald green dress and my breath caught in my throat. The velveteen fabric was heavy and felt wonderful against my skin. The color made my hair flame and the blue of my eyes pop.
“Vintage Yves Saint Laurent,” Mia said, her dark eyes glittering as I changed into it. “The wrap dress suits your curves. Full length for formal, but with a wicked high leg slit.”
The neckline plunged in an open v almost to my waist, while the rest of the dress clung to my hips and the slit ran high on my left thigh. Mia paired it with delicate gold heels that gave me another four inches of height. When I stepped out to the three-way mirror, Haze's eyes locked onto me. I posed in front of the mirror, loving the combination of long, demure sleeves with the revealing neckline and dangerous amount of leg. I could feel the heat of Haze's gaze and knew without looking that he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off me.
I looked over at Mia. “This is the one, but I'll take the others too.”
I was disappointed as I came down the stairs to see Haze wearing his reflective sunglasses on the day of the movie premiere. The emerald green dress was going to cause a sensation on the red carpet, I knew, but it was really Haze I wanted to knock on his ass.
“And they say wishes don't come true,” an unfamiliar deep male voice said.
Before I could panic, Grandfather spoke, “Leighton, I'd like you to meet my newest discovery, Bastian.”
Right. Movie star.
He was devastatingly handsome with dark brown hair, a chiseled jaw, and a dimple that appeared when he smiled, which he did now. He held out his hand to me and I took it. Instead of shaking it, he raised my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles.
“When Mr. Pope asked me to escort you, I had no idea what to expect, but this wouldn't have made it into my wildest dreams.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you, Bastian. That's sweet of you to say.”
I glanced over his broad shoulder and saw Haze's jaw tense. It wasn't enough, but by the end of the night, I was determined to get something real from him.
Chapter 9
Leighton
Haze rode in the front passenger seat of the limousine, and when the butterflies in my stomach got too wild, I looked through the open privacy partition at his broad shoulders. I could never tell him, but he was the only reason I felt like I could make an appearance on the red carpet. My grandfather was proud and happy. Bastian was charming and handsome. But it was Haze who was keeping me calm. He was focused and serious. He'd look out for any threats.
When the limo pulled up to the red carpet, Haze shot me a look that clearly told me to stay put. Annoying as it was, I nodded my agreement and watched as he jumped out and scanned the crowd. He waved back a wall of paparazzi and fans before reaching for the door handle and opening the door.
The sound hit me like a tornado. Fans cheering and reporters yelling. It was overwhelming. Bastian stepped out first, easily embracing the crowd. He stood, arms out, and waved to the crowd long enough for me to get my breathing back under control.
While Bastian was busy, Haze reached in and took my hand to help me out. As soon as I was on my feet though, he let go. No lingering touches, no steadying hand on the small of my back.
So I wrapped my arm through Bastian's and attempted to smile into the blinding onslaught of camera flashes. I could hear fans screaming his name and wondered if I'd be splashed all over social media as a darling or a whore. I wasn't sure which would be worse.
“Bastian, over here! We're live with your international fan base, come tell us about your big success,” an entertainment anchor called.
Bastian dropped my hand without a look toward me, walking over to join the anchor. In the blinding storm of photographs, I could barely see my grandfather answering questions to a bank of reporters. A surge of uncertainty went through me. I didn't know where to go or what to do.
And then, a strong hand found mine and pulled me out of the line of fire.
“Keep smiling,” Haze said in my ear.
I laughed and feigned delight as he escorted me farther up the red carpet. As long as no one was looking at how tightly my hand was clutching his, they'd never be able to see my inner turmoil.
“Leighton! Leighton! Tell us about your ordeal!” Another entertainment anchor shoved her way toward me. “Kidnapped and beaten by unknown assailants, Leighton Machus braves the red carpet despite the bruising still apparent.”
The insistent woman broke my hold on Haze and pulled me in front of the camera. I'd put on enough make-up to mostly disguise the fading bruises on my face, but I'd forgotten about the darker bruises on my leg and only now realized the dress revealed them as I walked. Panic rose in my throat, and I wanted to run back to the limousine.
“Was it all an elaborate ruse? A way to call attention to your grandfather's movie premiere?” the anchor asked.
Haze started to step between us but the woman's question pissed me off, vaporizing my fear. I held up a hand to let him know I was okay.
“I'm sure my kidnappers are watching this right now, and I'm here to show them that they did nothing but make me stronger.” I gave them a bright smile.
The entertainment anchor gaped at me, letting the camera roll for thirty silent seconds before she recovered. “There you have it. Leighton Machus like we've never seen her before.”
I walked away before she could try to coat my reputation with her assumptions and rumors. Haze had waited a few steps up the red carpet, but as I walked towards him, Bastian appeared, casually wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“I swear, you're getting more press than me and the movie,” Bastian said with a wide grin. “Smile for the cameras.”
I smiled outwardly, but I was inwardly seething. Bastian was just another man who saw only what he wanted to see. The onslaught of photographers overwhelmed me again, but this time Haze was in front of me, so I kept my eyes on him, my smile for him alone.
He wore a black on black three-piece suit, the only spot of color an emerald green pocket square that matched my dress. Plenty of photographers were snapping pictures of him as well. Haze was handsome...and completely unimpressed by everything around him. As Bastian fawned over the reporters and photographers and practically begged for attention, Haze stood above it all. He drew interest like a magnet, but he was there for me and me alone.
At some point during it all, Bastian released me and moved off on his own to soak up more publicity. Not long after, my grandfather joined me on the red carpet, and I finally tore my eyes off Haze.
“There's an extra seat in our row if you would prefer Haze to be with you,” my grandfather said quietly.
“What?” I glanced at him, startled. “No, I'm fine. I'm not scared anymore.”
“No, you're not. You're an inspiration.” Grandfather's eyes sparkled in a way they never had before. At least not when he looked at me. He continued, “I just thought you might want to ask Haze to join you as your date since Bastian seems a bit preoccupied.”
“My date? He's my bodyguard and nothing more,” I said, not meeting my grandfather's eyes.
“I remember not so long ago, he was more,” Grandfather said.
“Oh? Is that another thing you and Haze discussed behind my back?” I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended.
“Leighton, please. I underestimated you and I learned my lesson,” Grandfather said, his voice serious. “Don't punish Haze or yourself. If he makes you happy then you should be with him.”
We continued up the red carpet, smiling for the still flashing cameras. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Haze three steps behind us. His dark eyes met mine and he smiled. Grandfather was right about one thing. More than anything, I wanted to lace my arm through Haze's and be with him...but it was better this way.
I smiled and shook my head, letting Grandfather lea
d me into the movie palace and away from the chaos of the premiere crowd. Inside were only A-list guests and waiters with champagne. But before I could breathe again, I heard my name.
“Leighton? Darling! You came!” Paris trotted over to me as fast as her tight dress would allow. “I've been worried sick!”
I wondered why she'd saved her tearful greeting and dramatic hug for the relative privacy of the foyer, but then I noticed the cameras pressed against the window. I didn't doubt she'd mentioned the spot to them.
“I couldn't help thinking it was all my fault,” Paris said, feigning remorse. “I dragged you to Diabolique.”
“You seduced my bodyguard and left me unprotected,” I countered, my voice cold.
She puffed out her lower lip. “I couldn't help myself. You understand, darling, don't you...holy shit, is he your date?” Paris asked, eyes wide.
Bastian held a flute of champagne over my shoulder and then kissed my cheek. Outside, the camera flashes erupted again and Paris frowned.
“There's a private party for cast only,” Bastian said. “Let's check that out before we take our seats.”
“Sounds like fun,” Paris said as she stepped in front of Bastian.
He glanced at her and smiled, but said nothing. After a beat, he turned to me and offered me his arm. “Shall we go, beautiful?”
“Excuse us,” I said to Paris with a smile. “You understand, darling, don't you?”
Without a look at her, I took his arm and we walked away, leaving Paris fuming with jealousy. The sight of her reminded me of the night I'd been taken, but more than that, her insincerity brought back all the times she'd done horrible things while pretending to be my friend.
I supposed it was no surprise then that I didn't feel guilty as I left Paris.
I did, however, spare a glance for Haze. He followed Bastian and I to the private room and then took up a post outside the door. Once inside, Bastian dropped my arm to mingle with other celebrities, and I was left sipping my champagne alone.
But if I was honest, unless I was with Haze, I was alone.
Haze appeared behind me in the hallway and paused there, waiting for me to rid myself of my beautiful, but uncomfortable heels. He followed me up the stairs to my bedroom door, and then continued past to take up his regular post near the back stairwell. At some point, I assumed someone would come to relieve him so he could get some sleep. He had to sleep at some point, right?
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?” He turned questioning eyes toward me.
After wanting his attention all night, now that I had it, I found myself at a loss for words. All eyes had been on me throughout the premiere, but now was the only time I felt like someone actually saw me. And I knew he saw more than my image, more than my reputation, more than my money and infamy.
There was no way I could tell him what I saw when I looked at him. The man I wanted to be with more than anyone else. The man who made me want to be a better person, a person he could be proud of. A woman who deserved him.
To my surprise, he reached out and took my hand. Raising it to his lips, he kissed the back of my hand. “You were amazing tonight. Fearless as well as beautiful.”
Before I could even thank him, he'd returned to his usual stance, his armor firmly in place.
But I'd gotten through it tonight. I didn't know how he'd seen any of that in me, but it gave me hope. If I could change and be the woman he'd seen, then maybe, just maybe, we could be together.
I spent the rest of my sleepless hours trying to figure out how to become the new me, but when the dawn broke, all I knew was that I had to make changes in my life. I couldn't just do a make-over and still be the shallow little girl I'd always been. I had to make deeper changes.
And not just for Haze, but for me. He wasn't the only one who deserved better than who I was now. I did too.
Chapter 10
Haze
Leighton was the first thought in my head when I woke up. She always was, but this was even more than usual. Dreams of her in her emerald green dress had haunted me all night. The sensation of it beneath my fingers as I walked her down the red carpet, not as her bodyguard, but as her...just as hers. Untying the dress, feeling the fabric warmed by her body as I slid it off. Then, nothing between us.
It'd been torture to follow her all night. The few touches I'd stolen still electrified me. Helping her from the car. Guiding her when that asshole Bastian had just walked away. The final jolt had come when I'd kissed her hand outside her bedroom door last night. That light brush of her skin against my lips was enough to keep me on fire until my replacement had come.
I was exhausted, but jumped out of bed as soon as I woke up. I knew I couldn't be with Leighton twenty-four-seven, no matter how much I wanted to be, but I was using substitutes as little as possible. I quickly dressed in my uniform and left the guest house. I wanted to be outside her door when she emerged for the day. I knew the knot in my stomach wouldn't ease until I saw her.
“Oh, good, Haze, you're here.” Devlin hailed me from the kitchen as soon as I stepped inside. “Grab some coffee and meet me in my office.”
I considered pretending I hadn't heard him, but, aside from the fact that he was my employer, I respected him too much to do something like that. I knew he appreciated my dedication to Leighton, but I had a feeling that would've been pushing it.
Less than two minutes later, I walked into Devlin's office with a steaming cup of coffee. He was behind his desk, standing as usual, but he still wasn't in a suit and his laptop and phone were nowhere to be seen.
“You want me to report on last night?” I asked.
“I think it was a success, don't you? Leighton was stunning.”
“And she handled the reporters amazingly well,” I said, trying not to think of her in that dress. Or with that idiot on her arm.
“Yes, I heard them harassing her about the kidnapping.” He put his hands in his pockets, then took them out again, as if too restless to stay still. “It's too bad the media isn't harassing the police about their lack of leads. I spoke with the chief yesterday, but they're not any closer to finding the kidnappers than they were when it happened.”
“They're probably starting by trying to piece together a money trail,” I said, surprising myself by defending them. “It'd be a clear path to the kidnappers and get them one step closer to an arrest warrant and a conviction.”
“Which I could respect if it was yielding any results, but they haven't come up with a single theory about what happened, much less a suspect.”
He had a point there.
I sipped my coffee and let my mind wander. I'd learned a while ago that when I focused too hard, I could miss things. The whole not seeing the forest for the trees thing. Whenever I was stuck on a problem, I needed to pull back.
Theories. Suspects...
Motive.
There was the person who wrote the letters. That motive appeared to be whatever twisted fantasy world they lived in.
Except I hadn't gotten a sexual vibe from them. More like jealousy. Not wanting Leighton, but wanting to be her.
So there was one, but I knew there had to be more.
“You'd think they'd at least have something by now. I mean, you gave them the description of that bartender, and they have a picture of him from the security footage,” Devlin said, interrupting my thoughts. “But they've come up with nothing. They can't find him or his mysterious partner anywhere.”
I understood his frustration. Hell, I shared it. I hated knowing those assholes were still out there.
“You'd think the voice altering equipment would be a lead,” Devin continued. He glanced at me. “Don't you have anything that could help find at least the guy we know about?”
“He was the one who knew how to hit.” I rubbed my chin where he'd clipped me. I frowned, leaning forward in my seat, an idea sprouting to life. “In fact, he used some pretty specific moves. Krav Maga. I'll let the cops know to look at gyms that feature that particular brand of martial arts.”
“You do it.”
“What?” I almost sloshed my coffee on the rug as I straightened.