Page 6 of His Fury

“I plan events.”

He waited, and when I didn’t continue, he sighed loudly. “I thought we might have a conversation. Is this not going to be that? You think I want the obvious stated?” he asked, pointing to the other two men. “I can do that withthem.” His head cocked as he looked me over. “You can keep that.”

Looking down, I saw his once-white handkerchief was stained red. “Oh.” I knew not all of it was mine, but it was still a very sobering sight—no more sobering than being kidnapped. I knew I was processing too much, and my mind had now gone to the place where Isla panics and thinks inappropriate things.

I was thinking about myself in the third person.

That was stupid.

Like when you laughed at funerals and people stared, which made you more nervous, so you laughed harder.

I giggled.

“Are you having a breakdown?”

I nodded. “I think I am.”

His sigh sounded bored and unamused. “What was the last event you planned?”

“Engagement party,” I answered automatically. My eyes were still on my bloodstained handkerchief.

“Where was it?”

“The Grand,” I carried on, not recognizing the sound of my voice. “In the ballroom. Party of eighty. Their wedding is going to be big.” I turned to check that the two guys hadn’t moved.

They hadn’t.

“So…you’re a party planner?”

I looked up. He was watching me closely, but he looked mildly interested, and my eyes dropped to my hands to avoid maintaining eye contact. “No, but I get that a lot. A party planner plans…well…parties. Event planners planevents. It doesn’t have to be a party. It can be a conference, an annual gathering, a workplace seminar. You know, that kind of thing.”

“You make money?” he asked, and I looked up in surprise.

“I don’t think it’s the kind of money you would be interested in.”

He smiled. It seemed genuine. Less teeth. “I’m always interested in money.”

I swallowed, looking away. “Can I get some water? Please?”

“Sure.” He waved at one of the others, and I assumed that was him placing a water order. “How long have youplannedevents?”

“Since I left college. I used to be a wedding planner. I branched out.”

He nodded as he watched me, his eyes never letting me see what he was thinking. “I imagine that gets boring fast.”

“It’s demanding.”

“Conferences aren’t?”

“A different kind. Less yelling and more tears.” I jumped when a bottle of water was handed to me. I never even heard him approach. I took it with a shaky hand, pleased to see the cap was untouched.

“You live alone?”

The question surprised me. I looked at him like a deer in headlights, my mind blank.

“Wh… What?”

He leaned forward. “Do you live alone, Isla?”

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