Carrick shot a smooth, appreciative smile back, slipped another one-hundred-dollar bill into the guy’s hand and moved to park in the spot where the employee was motioning. As he put the truck in park, he turned to Danica.
“Just follow my lead,” he said, turning off the engine, and looking over at her. “Here’s the plan. Today you are going to set the tone. You are strong. You are no one’s property. You are not to be fucked with. Tomorrow, we will figure out the next step.”
He watched her lips tighten, nearly turning white underneath whatever lip gloss she had on. She was nervous…scared. Carrick leaned toward her, stretching his suited arm across her naked shoulders, feeling the softness of her skin under his calloused hands. Reaching up to her chin, he gently turned her head to him and stared intensely into her eyes.
“Listen to me,trustme and everything will be okay,” he furthered the briefing. “Don’t go anywhere I can’t see you.”
As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, she shrank into her seat like a wounded creature.Trust.There was something about that word that she hated. And damn, he knew she had good reason to have trust issues—especially with men.
What did this Petrov character do to her?
Carrick pulled back, slowly dragging his arm across her shoulder, watching her reaction as he did it. She wasn’t repulsed by him at least. No, she seemed almost to lean into his arm, taking the assurance he was offering. He grinned, never breaking eye contact with her. Carrick had been trained in reading people, in psychology. And, also unfortunately for her, he was on a mission.
Whether she likes it or not.
“How did you stay hidden from him for so long?” Carrick probed further, then waiting patiently for her to reply.
She was either going to lie or placate him. That was the game they played.
“I just stayed off the gird. I had no life,” she replied curtly, but less than convincingly. “Let’s get this done so I can just move on.”
Carrick grazed his teeth across his lip, looking out over the grass, nodding in understanding. It was time to get shit done.
Time to turn Dani’s life around.
Within minutes, Carrick had escorted Danica around the corner of the clubhouse toward the back, where the ceremony was set to begin shortly. Wedding guests milled around several stand-up serving stations, enjoying the open bar on the stone patio in the sunshine. It was now late afternoon, nearly evening.
A waitress passed him a glass of white wine, and he took it politely, narrowing his eyes on Danica as she leaned over the cocktail table before them to read the vegan options on the dinner menu. He didn’t miss how her hands trembled. Looking back over the crowd and scene, he observed a wide, groomed yard that had a decorative floral altar framing the beautiful stretch of beach behind it. Everything screamed money.Big money.And as the birds sang above the Pacific Ocean and the sun cast a simmering amber glow over the guests, Carrick only had one question.
What kind of world does she come from?
There were enough chairs for five hundred people, Carrick guessed, realizing just how huge the wedding was. Everyone was rich and fake and painted. He leaned back into the bar, keeping his distance from a scene that was completely not his. Enough wedding guests surrounded him that he felt nearly camouflaged. Looking up into the large glass windows of the clubhouse, he saw more lighting and floral arrangements on wedding tables. That was where the reception would be.
As he looked back at her, watching her long, black lashes flutter, it really hit him. Danica was the black sheep here. She didn’t fit in. She was one of those free-spirit types, happy with nothing—as long as she had sunshine and nature. Carrick couldn’t wipe the admiring smirk off his face, watching Danica shut the menu in a huff, mumbling something about a lack of awareness for alternative diets.
Carrick leaned in, his elbows on the high table as he kept his voice low enough so only she could hear. “What do I need to know?”
Danica glanced up to him and spoke in a near-whisper, “The bride, Varya, is my father’s cousin’s daughter. She’s marrying a Russian man, bringing him over to the States—someone who does business with the family.”
“An immigration scheme?” Carrick asked carefully, keeping his voice low.
“That’s what’s expected of the women in this family,” Danica replied, her voice lower. “And that’s why I ran…”
“The CEO of Petrov’s business… He’s Russian?” Carrick replied, the wheels turning fast in his head.
“Yes,” Danica replied, her big amber eyes flitting up to him, full of fear. “That’s why—”
But before she could finish her sentence, she just shook her head and stared back into Carrick’s eyes. While the west coast sun was dipping lower in the sky, Carrick drank in his date’s beautiful golden tan as her skin seemed to sparkle.Damn, she is something to look at.
In a small voice, she finally whispered, “I just want out of this family.”
The way she pursed her lips and seemed to beg for help through her eyes alone stirred that thing within him he couldn’t control. There was something about her that made him want to fight all the harder, something worth fighting for.
“Need a drink?” Carrick asked, eyeing the bar behind them.
As she shook her head, he left his undrunk glass of white wine and moved toward the pop-up bar. It wasn’t far, but his decision was strategic. He had to create distance from her. She was the most distracting woman he’d ever met.Is it her fault? Or mine?Her clear desperation shot to his core. That same need to protect the vulnerable crashed to the front of his awareness.
Carrick tried to flush the vision of her pert cleavage popping up and out of that slinky dress as he looked around, trying to keep an eye out for Petrov. Shit, it wasn’t easy to stay focused. Delta might have been right.