Page 26 of Duty Unbound

Who took care of her while she was busy taking care of everyone else?

I remembered the softness of her skin under my fingers when I’d examined the bruise. The slight catch in her breath. The way her eyes had widened in surprise that I’d noticed something everyone else had missed.

This attraction was unwelcome and inappropriate. I needed to shut it down now, before it became a problem. Ty had already noticed it. The other guys would too.

Plus, Mel wasn’t my type. A career-driven woman who ultimately had no room in her life for anything but ambition? I had no problem with a woman wanting that; I’d just learned the hard way that wasn’t the type of person for me.

But something about Mel felt different. Her devotion to Nova seemed to come from a place of genuine care, not self-interest. And unlike Samantha, she wasn’t using people as stepping-stones to get ahead.

Still. Although Mel Rivers may not be the actual primary client, she was still off-limits.

I forced my attention back to the threats, trying to push thoughts of Mel’s green eyes and soft skin from my mind. I had a job to do—keep Nova Rivers, and by default, Mel, safe. That’s what I would focus on.

Even if part of me wanted to do more than just protect Mel. Part of me wanted to be the person who finally noticed her. Who saw her not just as Nova’s sister and manager, but as a woman with her own needs and desires.

A woman who deserved someone to take care of her for a change.

I closed the folder with more force than necessary. This kind of thinking was dangerous. Distracting. Exactly the kind of complication I couldn’t afford on a job like this.

Mel Rivers was the sister of a client. Nothing more.

I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

Chapter 9

Mel

Relief washed over me like a cool wave as I drove back to Nova’s estate. Ethan Cross had agreed to take us on as clients. Finally, one weight lifted from my perpetually burdened shoulders.

The massive iron gates swung open as I approached, Ron waving me through with a friendly salute. I’d have to tell him his job was about to change significantly once Ethan’s team moved in. I hoped he wouldn’t take it personally.

I made my way past three production vans parked haphazardly in the circular driveway. Inside, the house hummed with its usual controlled chaos—dancers stretching in the foyer, sound engineers running cables through the hallway, Nova’s stylist arguing with someone on the phone while gesturing wildly at a rack of costumes.

“Mel!” A production assistant jogged toward me, clipboard in hand. “Thank God you’re back. The lighting director needs to know if Nova approved the new stage schematics, and thecaterer called about tomorrow’s menu—apparently Nova told them she’s gone vegan but just for Tuesdays?”

I took a deep breath. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll handle it.”

Fifteen minutes turned into forty-five as I navigated the maze of crises that always seemed to multiply in my absence. When I finally made it to the rehearsal studio, I leaned against the doorframe, letting myself have one quiet moment to watch.

Six dancers moved in perfect synchronization across the polished floor, their bodies creating fluid lines as they executed a complex sequence. The music—Nova’s latest single—filled the room with pulsing beats and soaring vocals.

In the corner, Nova sat cross-legged on a chair, her platinum hair twisted into a messy bun. Beside her, Dexter gestured animatedly, his hands punctuating whatever critique he was sharing. Nova nodded, her focus absolute as she studied the dancers.

This was the Nova few people got to see—the professional, the artist who took her craft seriously despite her diva persona. In moments like these, I could almost forget the endless stream of texts, the tantrums, the impulsive decisions that made my job a daily exercise in damage control.

The music faded out. Dexter clapped his hands. “Fantastic, darlings! Much better than yesterday. Shannon, watch your timing on the bridge. Marco, I need more extension on that final pose.”

Nova jumped up, beaming. “You guys are killing it! This is going to be epic.”

The dancers gathered around, everyone talking at once—excited, breathless, riding the high of a successful rehearsal. Hugs were exchanged, compliments shared. Within minutes, the room cleared except for Nova, Dexter, and me.

I pushed away from the doorframe and crossed the room. “The choreography’s looking great.”

Dexter flashed a satisfied smile. “It should. I’ve been working these poor children to the bone.” He collapsed dramatically into a chair. “Nova, your sister is a saint for putting up with all this madness.”

Nova grinned. “Mel was born organized. Mom used to say she came out of the womb with a color-coded schedule.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I have news. I met with Ethan Cross today, and Citadel Solutions will be implementing security protocols starting tomorrow.”

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