Royal Wedding Threat. Rachelle McCalla
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Ava shrieked before he was quite finished. “Could you be more careful?”
“Sorry. That little piece of glass was hiding.”
“Are you sure I don’t need stitches?”
Jason held up his gloved hand in front of her, a slender shard of glass perched on one finger. “That’s all it was. I’m almost done. There’s nothing that needs stitching.”
Feeling slightly embarrassed that she’d shrieked for such a tiny piece of glass, Ava mustered up her pride. “I think you’re taking far too much satisfaction at seeing my pain, after all the trouble I’ve caused you,” she accused him.
Jason sighed and pasted another adhesive bandage above her ankle. “So you admit you’ve caused me plenty of trouble.”
“No more than you’ve caused me.” She bit her lip as the captain applied more antiseptic, dabbing roughly at her injuries. “You know, you could try to be gentle.”
The captain was silent for a moment, but his movements became more precise, with less pressure.
“You know,” Jason echoed her as he stuck another bandage carefully in place, “you could thank me.”
“For what? You threw me on this couch like you were tossing a sack of kittens in the river.”
She expected Jason’s sharp retort but instead heard snickering from the doorway, and looked up in time to see a group of royal guards filing back into the building.
“Report,” Jason commanded, not sounding the least bit amused.
The men sobered. “All’s clear. The Sardis Police Bomb Squad has taken over the crime scene. They’ve got their bomb-sniffing dogs working the entire perimeter of the palace grounds, three blocks deep. If there’s another bomb in the area, they’ll find it.”
“Good work, men. Back to your stations.”
The men filed out in silence, but before the door closed behind them, a voice carried clearly from the hallway. “He would like to toss her in the river like a sack of kittens.”
A chorus of guffaws agreed with the statement.
“You didn’t hear that,” Jason stated bluntly as he spread antiseptic on the last of her cuts.
“Yes, I did,” Ava informed him. “And I felt the sting.”
The captain applied the last bandage, but that hadn’t been the sting she was referring to. Did Jason Selini really want to be rid of her that badly that he’d toss her off a bridge? The captain seemed to be a man of integrity and perfectly upright character, but she knew his resentment toward her ran deep. They’d been in opposition since the very first ceremony she’d planned at the end of the previous summer. She’d ignored his attitude all these long months, just as she habitually ignored anyone who didn’t like her. Hadn’t she learned her lesson long before? She couldn’t please everyone. Best to focus on doing her job and giving her brides the weddings of their dreams. That much she could do.
But the image of her burning car had seared itself into her mind. Why had her car exploded? Had someone placed a bomb inside to hurt her? What if they’d killed her?
“It’s all right. I’m done.” The captain handed her a tissue.
Only then did Ava realize she’d started sniffling, her near brush with death somehow penetrating her usually impervious armor. “Why do you think my car blew up?” It took all of her resolve to keep her voice steady.
“Somebody put a bomb in it. From what I saw, they probably had it set to go off a certain number of seconds after you unlocked your door—the idea being that you’d be very near or inside the car at that moment. If you hadn’t stopped and turned around, that’s where you would have been.”
“But—that would have killed me.” Ava couldn’t get the image of her charred car from her mind—nor could she quite grapple with the idea of what would have become of her if she’d been inside.
The captain met her eyes for just a moment. Instead of hardened anger in his flint-gray eyes, she saw a hint of sympathy, maybe even apology.
The change shook her as much as the realization that she’d narrowly escaped a horrific end. “They wanted me dead?”
The captain closed the box of bandages and tucked them away in the first-aid kit, not meeting her eyes. “That’s the only reason I can think of for what I saw.”
“But why?”
Jason looked her full in the face, a bit of sadness shimmering in his steel-gray eyes. “Do you have any enemies?”
Ava stared at him for long seconds, her stunned mind taking longer than usual to process her thoughts. Finally she answered, “You.”
The captain turned away and began plucking up the bandage wrappers he’d left lying about. “I’m the worst enemy you have?”
She nodded, no longer trusting her voice.
“Then I don’t know why anyone would put a bomb in your car.” He sucked in a sharp breath and met her eyes again. “But I intend to find out.”
His words hit her with such cold force he might as well have tossed her in an icy river. His statement was part vow, part threat. What would it take to find out who’d tried to kill her? Discussing past relationships? Analyzing all the hurts she’d put behind her, including the ones that had made her who she was? She tried to return the captain’s determined gaze, but she found she couldn’t keep her head up, not at the prospect of rooting through the skeletons in her closet. That wasn’t a place she wished to explore, certainly not with this man who hated her.
But what other choice did she have?
TWO
Jason Selini felt the tiniest glimmer of sympathy toward this woman who’d caused him so many headaches over the past several months. Ava Wright was impossibly stubborn, sharp-tongued and utterly unreasonable once she’d made up her mind to have her way.
And she always got her way. Jason had never been able to override her wishes except for a few times when he’d been able to prove her plans would cause imminent danger to royal life and property. The rest of the time she was a steamroller, exerting her will in spite of all his efforts to make her see reason.
And yet, as he glanced at her now, perched on the edge of the hard sofa in the waiting room of the royal-guard headquarters, she looked shaken. More than that, she looked like a scared little girl, and for the first time he realized she was almost certainly younger than his thirty-three years, in spite of her international success as a wedding planner.
Though the woman usually looked as impeccable as the weddings she planned, the incident had marred her facade. Her hair, which was dyed a harsh red and usually styled in jagged spikes shooting out from her head, now looked as limp and dazed as the rest of her. And her makeup, which had always been flawless, if a bit fierce, was now smeared, making her look eerily like a homeless street urchin, save for the expensive suit and shoes.
With the last of the first-aid items tucked safely away in the case, Jason realized he could delay the inevitable conversation no longer. “I’d like you to come to my office.”
“Why?” She blinked up at him, dark smudges outlining her eyes, highlighting the fear that glimmered above the green of her irises.
“I need to get your statement about what happened while everything is still fresh in your memory.” He didn’t add that he wanted to grill her on possible attackers and motives. Though the crime had technically occurred on the Sardis police side of the street, given the proximity to the palace and Jason’s duty to protect the royal family, Jason considered it his job to root out the reasons behind the attack—and prevent anything similar from happening again. He appreciated the expert help of the Sardis bomb squad, and he’d be sure to keep them in the loop with everything he learned,