“I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe he was here.”
Logan’s body tightened. “Seems like he’s everywhere, and getting closer. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it happen again.”
Veronica didn’t know how he would keep his word, since the stalker seemed to be two steps ahead of him thus far, but she believed him. This time, when Logan held her against him and spoke tenderly against her hair, his words felt like an oath. A promise. The way a lover tells his partner that there’ll never be another.
Veronica wished he’d make those promises to her, too.
But as he’d said, time and again, it wasn’t meant to be…
Chapter Ten
Veronica stood near the back of the Nightshade hotel’s ballroom and took in the glitz and glamour that had become the Sanchez reception.
Ice-blue linens were draped over the tables, and large floral centerpieces were perfectly centered over the tops. Accenting ribbons were tied around each chair. The chandelier hung in the center of the dance floor and picked up the DJ’s lights, reflecting them into the room beautifully. Glittery swags of tulle swooped from the chandelier and into the corners of the ballroom.
It was reception perfection. Bridal orgasm.
Heather filled Veronica in on all the Sanchez wedding details. The ceremony went wonderfully, even without Veronica there to oversee every detail. The bride had cried during the vows, and hadn’t really looked like the crying type. Her dress was exquisite: strapless, floral petals decorating the bottom, a short train, and a long veil that brushed against her eyelashes when she looked up at her groom. And in her hands were flowers that spelled her groom’s name.
“This is the last one,” Logan said, striding from the hallway branching off the main hall. He’d been such a huge help with the last-minute details; she probably wouldn’t have been able to finish before the wedding party arrived if it hadn’t been for his willingness to assist wherever was needed. His hands were wrapped around an oversize crystal vase, and his head was buried in a gathering of bushy flowers. The only reason Veronica knew it was him was from the stimulating rumble in his voice. “Thanks for the help,” he added.
“It was my pleasure,” Susan Reinhart, the event planner for the hotel, said from behind him. She hadn’t left his side since they arrived at the hotel. Not that Veronica noticed or anything. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
As Logan set down the vase on a nearby table, he caught Veronica’s eye.
“How’s your sniffer?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Your nose,” she said, pointing to the flowers over his shoulder. “How are your allergies holding up?”
“I’m good to go.” Logan patted his coat pocket—the one opposite where the stalker’s box was placed. God, her thoughts swarmed around that box. “Non-drowsy Benadryl.”
As the DJ played a John Mellencamp song, Veronica forced the thoughts of the stalker behind her and backed away to get an overall vision of the room. It was precisely how it should’ve been. Workers were moving around the room at a much slower and more controlled pace, putting final touches on the flowers and lighting candles in the center of the tables. The tulle arrangement centered over the dance floor was to die for. Logan had scaled the ladder and balanced on the top rung no problem—as if he was used to the height and had hung decorations sky-high a dozen times before.
He folded his arms over his chest and bumped against her. “So what do you think?”
“I think we did a damn fine job under the circumstances. It’s all we can—hey, excuse me!” she shouted, as a group of rugged-looking men walked in from a side door leading to the lobby. They weren’t wedding guests—she would’ve remembered seeing an entire rugby team dressed in suit and tie. The guys were enormous, broad-chested, and walking right toward her with strides that ate up the dance floor. “There’s a wedding taking place here tonight. Can I help you find something?”
“Yeah.” The one walking a beat in front of the others spoke up first. He was at least six foot six of bodybuilding muscle, with a flop of chestnut-brown hair and ice-blue eyes. His accent was slow and rough, as though he’d just woken up. “I’m Carter, and I’m looking for Logan Black.”
“Carter!” Logan said, sliding beside Veronica and shaking Carter’s hand. “’Bout time you showed up. Thanks for agreeing to be here, I know it was last-minute.”
“You invited guests?” Veronica gritted through tight lips.
“Susan mentioned that the security team the hotel contracted isn’t coming tonight. Considering what happened at your house earlier, that wasn’t acceptable, so I took matters into my own hands. Don’t worry,” he said, putting up his hands as she was about to question him, “I took care of it, and called my most trusted friends. Rest assured that the Sanchez wedding will be the most protected wedding in Seattle.”
Veronica scrutinized the faces of the men. They were stoic and unreadable with jutting brows and sharp, slanting bone structures. Their expressions were dark and mysterious, giving off lethal vibes that clung to Veronica like the stench of smoke. Judging from their demeanor alone, Veronica knew they’d take the job seriously. They were already scoping out the exits and sizing up the workers. She didn’t want to trust these guys—they’d probably only been fingerprinted inside the four walls of a police station—but if the hotel’s security team wasn’t coming, what else could she do? If Jake trusted Logan, and Logan trusted these guys, they had to be in safe hands…right?
“This Veronica Vale?” Carter directed his question at Logan. “The one who—”
“Yes, this is Miss Vale,” Logan blurted. “But there’s no time for intros. I need you stationed outside those doors. Two of you can stand there, and there. Another two near the bathrooms, and a few more in the lot.”
Veronica wondered what Carter had been about to say. Logan had mentioned her? To his friends? If he was only going to mention that she was the one Logan had been hired to guard, why the rude interruption?
The team of rugby hunks split up as though someone had just yelled, “Break!” and called the next play.
“These guys will be the best replacements you’ve ever seen.” Logan smiled deviously. “Do you trust me?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“Then don’t worry about a thing. You’ll be safe here tonight,” he said, and walked away.
Veronica checked the head table, scooted the chairs in, and made the final rounds of the room as guests filed in. Susan—the gorgeous blonde in the red strapless dress—approached Veronica, an iPad secured in the crook of her arm.
“The place is a dream,” Susan said. “Probably the most beautiful I’ve ever seen it.”
“Thanks.” Veronica watched as Logan yelled something to the DJ, then opened the door wide for an elderly woman to pass through. “I appreciate your help setting things up.”
“I didn’t do much of anything. You should be thanking your go-to guy, Logan.”
“My go-to guy?” The way she said his name, unhurried and sensual, sparked a hint of jealousy in Veronica’s belly. Across the room, Logan bent to pick up something off the floor, giving the ladies a striking view of his rounded backside. “He doesn’t work for my company.”
“Really?” Susan said, leaning in close to Veronica’s ear. “So who is he to you, if you don’t mind my asking?”