The Heiress's Pregnancy Surprise (Heirs to an Empire 2)

She sounded brave and a bit reckless, but he’d also seen her face when he’d arrived in the kitchen. She wasn’t brushing it off. She was scared and she was being defiant. As long as she wasn’t stupid, there was no reason why they couldn’t go. After all, his job was protecting people who had enemies, who had to be in public situations.

“But if I say go, we go,” he said, moving his arm away from her touch. It felt far too good.

“If you say go, we go,” she parroted, nodding. “Go get ready, Jacob.”

“As soon as I forward that email on to my guy.” He gave a curt nod toward her laptop. “I could hack my way in, but if you’ll bring up your email, it’ll be faster.”

He enjoyed the way her eyes widened with surprise and then appreciation. In moments she’d lifted the top again and logged in. “Go ahead. I trust you. See you when I’m ready.”

She trusted him. She shouldn’t. Because maybe he wasn’t going to send the email to her IT team, but he was going to report what had happened to Aurora. It was his job, and despite his growing feelings, it was the one thing that kept him anchored. This was a job. That’s all.

When he was done forwarding the email, he went to his room and got the tux out of the garment bag. Even though it was tailored perfectly to his frame, he never quite got used to the feel of formal wear. It took three separate tries to get the bow tie mostly right. His shoes were so shiny that the light reflected off them. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed... It was time for a cut again, wasn’t it? Was it too long now on the top?

Why was he being so critical of himself?

He was ready before she was, so he opened up his own laptop. The kind of messages that Charlotte was receiving weren’t random, and while he was, on paper, just the hired protection, he had skills and resources. Including personnel files from Aurora. This felt to him like someone bearing a grudge. Someone who maybe worked for the company at one time. It wouldn’t hurt to go through the team’s files again and see if anything popped out.

Charlotte emerged twenty minutes later, and when Jacob turned around, he forgot about the file open on his laptop, forgot about his lopsided bow tie, forgot about everything.

Charlotte Pemberton was stunning.

Her dress was black, but looked like it had something underneath that was light beige, so the “feathers” of black fabric appeared to be over skin. The neckline plunged nearly to her waist, a deep V of creamy skin and shadows of cleavage that turned his mouth dry and his body hard. The “skirt” was more feathers of black, but then others that were iridescent, green and blue, like a peacock’s feathers. It was daring and beautiful and unique. Just like her.

“Wow,” he said, feeling like he should have been able to come up with a better word. “You weren’t joking when you said you had a killer dress.”

“You like it?” She turned in a circle, and the iridescent feathers shimmered. To his surprise, the back dipped nearly as low as the front.

He wanted to say he liked the woman inside it better, but held back. “It’s beautiful.”

She blushed a little. “Thank you. I hope you have your party shoes on, Jacob. I know I said I was tired, but the email fired me up. Now I want to dance out of spite.”

“The best revenge is living well,” he replied, “though I’m not sure you want me to dance.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

She grabbed a soft wrap and their driver headed through the darkness toward Brooklyn and the A-list party. Jacob considered it a bad thing when he realized he felt like he was on a date rather than an assignment. He’d h

ave to watch that through the night, but it was hard when the assignment was keeping his eyes on her and remaining glued to her side.

One thing he knew for sure... No one was going to hurt her. Not on his watch.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WEDNESDAY MORNING PROMISED a dawn that was crisp and clear. Charlotte was already up and doing battle with the nerves in her stomach. The Aurora show was at 10:00 a.m. and Amelie had left her messages last night with updates from the team, a few of them a little panicked. When Charlotte messaged back to apologize for the late reply but that she’d been out, Amelie had responded that she didn’t realize Charlotte was going out. She should have; the party was on the itinerary for the week and hadn’t changed.

“I’ll meet you at eight thirty,” Amelie had said, but Charlotte knew that things would be underway long before then. She trusted her team, but she also had the burning urge to make sure everything was going to plan. Which was why she’d been up for over an hour, had convinced Jacob to skip his workout, and they were ready to leave for Tribeca before 7:00 a.m.

Manhattan was already buzzing with traffic, the early morning energy palpable as they reached the venue. A security guard required ID before letting them through, and Charlotte took a moment to breathe in and absorb the moment, the quiet of the runway before the crowds entered and the music started.

Racks of clothing waited in the large, quiet room, and Charlotte paused inside the door, taking in the last moments of peace before everything went crazy. There was nothing like the energy before a big show. Now Aurora’s best hung before her, waiting to be showcased by world-class models in one of the biggest shows in the world.

She stepped in, then hesitated. Something felt wrong. A scratch sounded close by, like a foot sliding against the floor. Jacob’s hand touched her shoulder—he’d heard it, too.

She squinted and took a closer look at the nearest rack of clothes, and then her body ran cold.

They weren’t hanging just right, and she realized with a start that the clothes were sliced, ruined. She moved out from beneath Jacob’s hand and rushed to the rack, her fingers touching the rent fabric. “Oh, my God,” she said, and then louder, “Oh, my God.” Every item on the rack had been cut, and cut in such a way that they couldn’t be repaired and certainly not before the show at ten.

“Stay here,” Jacob ordered, and for once she did exactly what she was told. Both because she was shocked by what she was seeing and because of last night’s email. Her dress had been slashed, and now all the items were cut to ribbons. Who would do something like this?