“Fuck,” Trace growled in her ear. “Ignore them. Put on your killer smile and lift your head up, baby. Walk like they don’t matter. They don’t. You matter. Only you.”
He was wrong.
Skye turned to the reporter. A curvy blonde with hard eyes.
“I didn’t break down,” Skye told her simply. “I survived.”
And she walked away. With her head up. With a false smile on her lips. She took the steps past the swarm of reporters, and then she and Trace were heading into the Bartley.
Guards were stationed at the doors, and they made absolutely sure that the reporters didn’t follow Skye and Trace inside.
Her heels tapped on the gleaming marble floor. From overhead, glittering chandeliers poured light down on her.
The other ball attendees headed forward, moving and laughing easily. They’d enjoyed their time in the limelight. Skye hadn’t. She didn’t care about photo opportunities or getting her name in the papers. If she had her way, she’d prefer to never see another paper or magazine with her face splashed on the cover.
Breakdown. Thanks, bitch.
Trace wrapped his hand around Skye’s waist. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She blinked. Glanced up at him.
“For a minute there, I was sure you were going to tell the blonde to fuck off.”
Her lips twitched. The laughter escaped her, before she could even think to stop it. A light, quick bubble of sound.
Trace’s face froze. “There it is,” he rasped.
And he kissed her. A deep, sensual kiss that made her knees jiggle.
“Well, well…I guess this is how the mighty fall.”
Skye pulled away from Trace with a little gasp, but he didn’t let her go far. He kept a hold on her wrist as they both turned to face the man who’d closed in on them.
Tall, muscled, with wide shoulders that stretched the perfectly tailored tux he wore, the man stood just a few feet away. His hair was dark, nearly the same shade as Trace’s, and his eyes were a burning, deep gold.
Those eyes were on Skye, assessing her with a fierce intensity. “The reporters could see the kiss, you know,” the man murmured. There was a faint accent in his voice. Texas? “But maybe that was the point, right, Trace?” And his gaze trekked to Trace. “To stake the claim in front of them all. In case any of the blind fools missed the giant rock on her finger.”
She expected Trace to fire an angry retort, instead, he laughed.
Laughed.
Skye glanced over at him in surprise.
“Noah,” Trace murmured, “I’d heard you made a new acquisition in town.” His eyebrows rose as he took in the hotel. “Nice. You’ve done well for yourself.”
“As have you.” That golden stare was back on Skye. Still too intense. “Very well,” the man added as his voice deepened.
Trace wrapped his arm around Skye. “You said yourself, I’ve already staked a claim.”
Skye licked her lips—and tasted Trace.
“Skye Sullivan, I want you to meet Noah York. Noah is…an old friend of mine.”
The name clicked for Skye. York Towers. The guy had hotels all over the United States. Those Towers were usually in the biggest cities, but they were also found in some secluded, high-end getaway locations. Near pristine beaches. Cradled amid mountaintops.
Noah reached for her hand. He bent his head. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
Finally?
He released her and eased back. “I figured nothing would keep you away from this event, Trace.” His shoulders straightened. “Not when we both know what it’s like to be those kids.”
Her gaze sharpened on Noah.
Then someone called his name. Noah sighed. “Business.” He pointed at Trace and Skye. “But I’ll be seeing you both later.” Another nod, and then he was gone.
“We should go inside. The auction will be starting soon,” Trace said.
She started walking automatically, but her fingers reached out to touch his arm. “Trace, what did he mean when he said it was finally good to meet me?”
His stride never faltered. “Noah and I go way back. Surely you realize that I’ve talked about you before?” He gave her a fast glance. “How could I not?”
His words were easy. The explanation was simple, but a knot had formed in Skye’s stomach.
“Now, let’s go bid a ton of money, baby. We’re supposed to have fun tonight.”
Yes, yes, they were.
They slipped into the ballroom. A stage had been set up for the auction. Business first, then Skye knew that the band would begin playing for the dancers.
This wasn’t a night about fear.
This was about the future.
Starting fresh. Giving the children a future.
Once, Skye had been a lost teen. So scared. Alone. From beneath her lashes, she watched Trace. Then she’d found him, and everything had changed for her.
***
Noah had almost fucked up.
Trace kept his arms around Skye, moving fluidly with her as they danced across the ballroom. Her face was lit up, her eyes shining.
Skye loved dancing.
And she loves me.
Noah would have to be careful. Trace planned to catch the man alone at the earliest opportunity. Noah would understand—as many couldn’t—just how important some secrets were.
He hadn’t realized that Noah was already back in town. If he had, Trace would’ve talked with him sooner.
It was just a little slip. Skye believed what I told her.
Lying to Skye wasn’t something that Trace enjoyed doing. She had so much faith in him. The lies he told her ate at his soul.
But he wanted her protected.
I have to make sure she doesn’t find out.
The music ended. Because he knew that she liked it, Trace dipped Skye. Her cheeks flushed. More of that sweet, wonderful laughter slipped from her.
He eased her back to her feet, keeping a light grip on her. He hadn’t noticed any weakness in her injured leg, but, when it came to Skye, Trace didn’t want to take any chances.
The band announced that they’d be taking a short break.
Trace glanced over and saw Melanie Petrie, the organizer of the charity event, as she talked quietly with two of her staff members. “Can you excuse me for just a moment?” Trace asked Skye. “I need to speak with Melanie.” Because he wanted to make a substantial donation, one that would be in Skye’s name. He’d tell her later, when they were alone.
He couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.
“Of course.” She gave him an easy smile. “I wanted to step out on the balcony anyway. I’ve heard the fountains in the courtyard are quite incredible.”
They were. Trace also knew that they were well guarded. The event had a ton of security in place. And I have my own men here, too.
“I’ll join you there,” he promised her.
Trace watched her walk away. He couldn’t take his gaze off her back. All of that beautiful, silken skin.
“You’re one lucky bastard.”
He inclined his head at Noah’s words.
“Is there a particular reason you were giving me a go-to-hell look earlier?” Noah asked him.
“You mean other than the fact that your eyes were looking at Skye far too damn much?” Trace turned toward him. His back teeth had clenched, and Trace had to force his jaw to relax. “She doesn’t know about my past. I want it to stay that way.”
Noah whistled. “You’re marrying her, and she doesn’t know?”
“How many women know about your past, Noah?”
Noah’s brows climbed.
“The last thing I want is for her to fear me,” Trace said. “Especially after everything that happened.”
Noah nodded. “I’m sorry. I…I read the stories. Was it as bad as they said?”
For an instant, Trace remembered the basement. The darkness. The fear that had eaten at him.
She’d looked so beaten. Skye hadn’t even believed that he was really there, not at first. She’d thought that she was seeing a ghost. He’d had to convince her…
I found you. You’re going home with me. You’re going to dance, and we’re going to fuck and laugh and be happy. Do you understand?
Trace cleared his throat. “It was even worse.”
Noah swore.
“Skye doesn’t need any more fear,” Trace told him, needing Noah to get the message.
His old friend nodded.
Noah started to walk away. Trace moved, blocking his path. “I want you to come to my office tomorrow. We have to talk.”
“Look, I said—”
“Ben Sharpe was murdered.”
Noah’s lips parted in surprise. “The hell he was.”
“He died right after he came to visit me, telling me that the past was coming back.”
“The past is dead.”
“Yes, that’s what I said, too. Then Sharpe wound up butchered in an alley.”
Noah backed up a step. “I’ll be there, man.”
Good. Because Noah had been in on the mission that went to hell. A mission that cost a teammate his life.
And taught them all the truth about just how deadly an innocent face could be.
Chapter Six
The fountains were amazing. The water flew into the air, twisting and turning in a rhythm that perfectly matched the soft tunes that drifted from the outdoor speakers.
Lighting effects drifted over the water. Soft pink, light blue.
Beautiful.
“Miss?”
She turned and found a waiter at her elbow. The balcony was well lit, gleaming with candles. The waiter offered his tray of champagne. She took a glass, nodding her thanks.
Skye lifted the glass to her lips.
Then she stopped. Because she’d just caught sight of a man standing below. He had a hood over his head, and he was partially hidden by the shadows.
Her heartbeat kicked up. Her left hand pushed against the hard marble column of the balcony as she leaned forward, trying to get a better glimpse of the figure.
The glass tipped in her right hand and began to fall.
Long, masculine fingers caught the glass, and only a few drops of champagne dripped to the ground.
Skye looked into Noah’s eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said softly, “I’ve got it.”
“I-I—” Skye shook her head, unnerved by the intensity that seemed to cloak him. Trace carried that same, dark intensity, but she didn’t fear the danger that clung to him.
Noah York was another matter.
“I saw someone,” Skye finally said, pointing over the balcony. “Down there, in the shadows.”
Noah followed her stare. “What was this person doing?”
“It was a man. I-I think. He was…staring up. Looking toward me.”
Silence.
She squinted as she stared out at the fountains, but Skye couldn’t see any sign of the watcher now. “He was there.”
“I never said he wasn’t.” Noah put the champagne on the balcony and pulled out a phone. With his eyes on her, he said, “Dale, Jonah, do a perimeter sweep near the south-side fountains. Make sure that no uninvited guests slipped past security.” He pushed the phone back into the inner pocket of his tux. “Some reporters can be very determined.”
Reporters. Right. Her breath panted out too quickly. It had just been a reporter out there, waiting for a scoop. She had to stop looking at the shadows and seeing danger.
“Excuse me,” Skye murmured, embarrassed now. “I’d better get back inside and—”
“Trace won’t be much longer.” Noah leaned back against the broad column and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t we take a few minutes to talk?”
Once more, she glanced back down toward the fountains. Now she saw two men—both wearing suits—heading toward the shadows.
“Those are two of my men,” Noah said, not sounding particularly concerned. “If anyone else is down there, I’ll know shortly.”
There was just something about him that reminded her so much of Trace. Guessing, she said, “The two of you served together, in the military.”
“I did a stint in the military, yes.”
That was a vague answer.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.
“I’m very sorry for what you had to endure, Skye.”
She swallowed to ease her suddenly dry throat. “Plenty of people endure worse all the time. I’m just lucky I survived.”
Silence, then, “I don’t think luck had much to do with it, but I agree, you are a survivor.”
The candle light fell on his face, half revealing, half concealing. “How much do you know about me?” Skye asked him.
“I know that we share a similar past. You, Trace, and I—life wasn’t always easy for us when we were younger, but we didn’t let our pasts stop us. A past should never get in the way of your future.”
“Your parents—”
“Unlike you and Trace, I never knew them. Not my real parents, anyway.”
She stared back at him.
He laughed softly, but the sound held no humor. “This is the point where most women would say, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Their loss.’”
Skye rolled her shoulders. “But like you said, we share a similar past.”
His head inclined. “So you don’t know if I deserve sympathy or envy.”
“You’re an unusual man, Noah.”
“And you, Skye Sullivan, are not at all what I expected.” He paused. “I wish that I’d had the pleasure of seeing you dance on stage. According to Trace, you’re quite phenomenal.”