The Scandal Behind the Wedding. Bella Frances
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I am really in the wrong place. So …’
She looked around at his group who’d brought a whole new energy to the place. A place she really didn’t feel very comfortable in—even with the hottest guy in the room so up close and personal. Especially with the hottest guy in the room so up close and personal.
‘So. Yes. Thanks. Nice to meet you but I’m going to head off.’
He frowned slightly. Very slightly. As if he hadn’t quite given her permission to leave. You had to laugh at these guys. Clearly not used to anyone doing anything other than fall into line. But the adrenalin had definitely kicked in now and she’d decided on flight not fight. She was so not going there. What would be the point? He would think that she was a lot more liberal than she was just by virtue of actually being in this crazy place. And even though she badly needed some attention, a little bit of salve for her bruised and battered ego, she’d prefer it was with someone who would settle her down rather than stir her up.
‘Tommy.’
He didn’t so much bark out the name as growl it. And instantly the pain in the neck from the elevator appeared before her. His nose was sunburned and his eyes were slightly glazed. But he was lapdog-ready where his boss was concerned and he issued an instant apology.
‘Really sorry for what I said … and did … in the lift.’
‘Forget it,’ she said, looking away, looking for a clear path out.
But things were beginning to happen. Girls were coming forward, smiling and flirting. Heading right for the guys like homing devices. They were of all races. And all beautiful. Tall, cool, blonde. Hot Latino. Dusky, dramatic, dark. Pouty, elegant, ebony. And, yes, Celtic and pale. A smorgasbord. Were they all single? Really? Or had she arrived at a very different type of party?
Tommy didn’t hang around—he went straight back to the boys, swung his arms round two stunning girls and moved off, laughing as if this was the best Christmas Day ever.
She looked at Danny Ryan. Oh, no. He must think she was as easy as them. And—worse—he must be looking for that kind of girl. No way a guy like him was single by choice. None. Not a chance. The sands were still shifting. The waters were deep. And deadly. Time to swim for the shore.
‘I’ve got to go.’ She grabbed her bag tightly to her side, made to leave. Didn’t want to be there a moment longer.
‘Wait,’ he said, reaching out for her hand. ‘Why don’t you hang around a bit?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘That’s not going to happen. This is not my kind of party.’
He looked around, frowned. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s not at all what I was expecting either.’
He focussed his piercing stare back on her. As if it would compel her to stay.
‘Why don’t we find somewhere a bit more—civilised?’
She tried to look away from those eyes—she really did. But they took some amount of staring—so many blues … not a trace of cloudy grey or mossy green … just blue and black and deep. You could easily lose hours of your life staring into eyes like those—just looking for a flaw. But she didn’t want to waste any more of her life. She wanted to get her life back. Back on track. Back to earning as much as she possibly could, so that she could start to clear some of Babs’s debts and then finally get on a plane and the longed-for flight home.
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll head home. I’m not really in the mood now.’
He swung another glance around, frowned a little more. Seemed to check out what his boys were getting up to.
She did the same and saw that they were getting past first base and straight to third without so much as a casual introduction. This wasn’t a singles party. This was a brothel!
‘Give me a minute—I need to check in with my boys. They don’t know what we’ve wandered into. Then we’ll go somewhere else to fix your mood.’
He pinned her in place with a confident nod and then called a couple of his guys over to chat. She could go—she should go. Nausea was beginning to form in her throat. She knew this kind of party went on—she wasn’t stupid. But she’d never been up close and personal to it. She’d never seen with her own eyes—girls who could be her or her friends—girls dressed for a club night. But the only club they were going to was one that paid their wages.
She didn’t want to judge, but if this was what she thought it was she really didn’t belong here. And she certainly didn’t want to be hooking up with any guy—no matter how gorgeous—at a place like this.
He was still rounding up his team—some of whom looked less than impressed that he was calling time on their fun. Some of the girls stared over at her. If looks could kill …
Definitely time to go. She pulled the strap of her bag tighter, squared her shoulders and headed to the door.
Suddenly there was a noise and the crowd of girls and guys in front of her melted away. She looked up to see the cause of the commotion. Uniformed men. Police. Oh, no—could this get any worse?
Danny Ryan appeared at her side. Grabbed her hand.
‘What’s happening? Why are the police here?’
‘Only one reason I can think of. And it’s not making me feel reassured. Come on.’
He sounded grim. Formidable. And something in her urged her to lean into the strength that he was channelling.
He moved fast towards the stairs. Her slingbacks slipped and clicked, keeping up with his lengthy strides.
‘I could be wrong, but I’d guess this is an unlicensed party and someone has forgotten to pay off the right person. That would explain why there’s more than fizz and canapés on offer.’
‘What? What do you mean? I knew there was something weird going on! I was told this was a singles party—I’m a kindergarten teacher. I can’t afford to get caught up in anything!’
‘None of us can, Georgia. None of us can.’
They landed at the bottom of the long twist of marble and stepped out onto the wide wraparound terrace—complete with plunge pool—stuck on the side of the building, hundreds of feet in the air. Bodies lazed and lounged, still oblivious of the raid upstairs. Bronzed limbs in every conceivable pose.
She looked away. Didn’t want to see any more of what was clearly happening all around her. The unfurling commotion was rapidly turning into a living nightmare. Panic was setting in. She had commitments. She had Babs—her life-saver, who had sacrificed everything to bring her up, to give her a good home and was relying on her and her tax-free salary just to make ends meet. She couldn’t possibly jeopardise that!
‘But you don’t understand—I can’t get into trouble here. I could lose my job. I could get arrested.’
‘I’ve no intention of letting anyone get arrested. Or lose their job.’ He sounded half distracted. ‘Here—this way. I’ve got the perfect place to wait it out.’
They moved now on plush velvet carpet. Her heels sank and she stumbled a little, trying to keep up. He turned, shot her an intense steadying look, and then scooped her close to his side. She heard the rumble of the commotion now above them.
‘What about your team?’
‘I’ve told them what to do and say if they get into trouble. They’ll be fine as long as they remember.’ He paused for another second, gave her another calming look. ‘You’ll be fine too.’
She could only hope so. She’d been warned when she’d arrived in Dubai—they all had—not to get into any trouble. Especially with the police. She worked for an international school with hugely high standards and any fun was to be had within strict boundaries.
But who