Hero Book 3 - The Battle: Military Romance (9 page)

Without another word, he turned and left. Well, not completely, because he took his job too seriously. I knew he was just outside. But I didn't want him to be outside. I wanted him in here. With me.

I picked up the tiki-shaped lamp next to me and flung it across the room. It thudded against the wall, and then cracked as it fell, not giving me the satisfaction I had hoped.

Gutting the room, getting rid of all the outdated and unwanted furniture was just the distraction I needed. I'd start right away.

Well, right after I put on my top and retrieved my sundress from where I'd left it.

Once I'd dressed, I began hauling out tiki-lamps, rattan chairs, and everything I could lift, piling it up outside the pool house. I didn’t care how much it hurt. In fact, I welcomed the pain. Haze watched from the opposite side of the pool, but it still wasn't far enough.

I knew exactly how he saw me, even if I was sweaty and dirty from carting shit around. I piled up the old furniture and knick knacks as I thought of all the ways we weren't right for each other. I'd barely finished high school because I'd been more concerned with having fun. I had no career path or ambition. I wasn't generous with my time or money, and I didn't know how to put other people first. I was everything Haze wasn't, and not in a good way.

If only I could overhaul myself.

“Need any help?” Grandfather asked.

The sight of him in a short-sleeved polo shirt shocked me into stopping, mid-step. Devlin Pope without a power suit wasn't something I was accustomed to seeing. In fact, I didn't think I'd ever seen him in anything but a suit. And he didn't have his phone with him. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't been on the phone much since I'd come back. Not one of our conversations had been interrupted by a business call.

“No.” I smiled at him as I straightened. “I'm actually liking it. Cathartic.”

“Well, I don't want to interrupt you then, but I was hoping I could convince you to make your first public appearance at my upcoming premiere,” he said.

“The one with your new superstar?” I asked, trying to remember.

“I know action-suspense might not be your kind of movie right now, but I thought it might be a good place for you to step out again.”

I glanced at Haze standing in the shadows. I'd have to leave my grandfather's mansion some time and face the paparazzi that had been flocking outside our gates non-stop since my kidnapping. Maybe the red carpet would be the perfect place to reinvent myself.

W
hen I came back out of my bedroom minutes later, Haze was making his way down the back staircase, but turned around as soon as he heard me. I kept my eyes on his charcoal gray shirt as he came to stand in front of me. Without the reflective sunglasses, it was too hard to look him in the face.

“I need a dress for Grandfather's movie premiere. I made an appointment at La Pomme. It's very exclusive and has its own security,” I said it all in one big rush of air and then waited for him to say no.

“When would you like to go?”

I blinked. “What?”

“I checked it out already,” Haze said. “It's good.”

“When?” I crossed my arms across my chest and tried not to be annoyed.

“I saw the premiere on your grandfather's calendar, and assumed you'd be going. Devlin, I mean your grandfather, knew where you'd gotten formal dresses before, so I checked it out,” Haze said.

I resisted the urge to stamp my foot like a child. “You two discussed it and gave it a stamp of approval before I was even invited to the event?”

“I wanted to be prepared,” he said calmly.

“Well, why don't you prepare by bringing the car around,” I said, all too aware of the snarky tone in my voice.

“If you're sure you'd rather do that than bring stylists here...”

“Just get the car,” I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. Instead, he turned and went downstairs, leaving me in the hallway, my breathing fast, my cheeks hot. He thought I was too scared to leave the house. Things made more sense now. That was why my grandfather hadn't been working. He thought I was frightened, and had taken time off to coddle me.

To hell with both of them.

I stomped down the stairs and out the front door. When Haze pulled up in the car, I barely waited for him to stop before I got in and slammed the door behind me.

Nothing had changed. I'd survived being kidnapped and beaten, and I hadn't panicked. I'd kept my head, hadn't screamed or begged. In fact, I'd been trying to figure out how I could escape when Haze found me.

But all anyone could see was a spoiled princess.

Frustration simmered under my skin, and I didn't wait for the valet to open the door at La Pomme. I also didn't wait for Haze to follow. I knew he would. I also knew I was safe in the two feet that existed between the car door and the boutique.

The head stylist, Mia Downs, beamed at me as I entered. “Ah, such fire! I'm seeing black, femme fatale. Beautiful!” Her accent was faint, just enough to give her an exotic sound.

I sighed and managed a smile for her. “Mia, I'm sorry. Just a little problem with my staff.” I took a slow, deep breath. “But a few seconds in this paradise and I already feel better.”

“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.