Colton's Secret Bodyguard

For a few minutes, they stood to one side of the crowd. A quartet of violin, harp, cello and flute played on a stage at the far end of the room, their haunting melodies just audible above the conversations. One of the errant servers paused beside them with a tray of champagne.

Bree took a glass, but Rylan shook his head. “Water, please.”

“I’m sorry,” Bree said, when the waiter went away to fulfill his request. “Most people will spend the night here in The Chateau, so driving won’t be a problem.”

“It’s not just driving. I’m working, remember?”

“Oh.” Her teeth caught her lower lip. “Of course, you are.”

He frowned. She appeared to be upset, but he couldn’t understand why. He had been hired to protect her. If he could turn the clock back to the moment when he’d agreed to do it, would he change things? His gaze lingered on Bree’s profile. That would mean he never would have met her. He couldn’t wish for that. Even though his heart had taken a beating from which it might never recover, Bree had brought a new perspective into his life.

And let’s not forget...she didn’t hurt me. I hurt us.

“Guys.” Bree’s dad smiled as he approached their position at the side of the ballroom. “Why are you hiding over there? Come and say hi.”

Although Audrey greeted them with delight, she quickly returned to a nose-to-nose conversation with the director of her favorite non-profit organization. The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of introductions, during which Rylan tried to keep track of the Colton family. He already knew that he wouldn’t meet Earl, Bree’s ninety-four-year-old grandfather. Earl was not in the best of health, and dementia had slowly eroded his memories. Bree had explained that he needed to spend most of his time in his own home, with his team of caregivers close by.

They finally drew breath and stopped to talk to Russ Colton, who was Earl’s oldest son, and the man who ran The Colton Empire. Now in his mid-sixties, he was tall and broad-shouldered, but getting a little heavier around the middle. His wife, Mara, was director of operations at The Chateau. She was stylishly groomed, and rail thin, with not a single short dark blond hair out of place. Rylan, who was used to reading people, got the impression he was looking at a woman who wasn’t happy. He also noticed that, although she and her husband barely spoke to each other, there was clearly some tension between them.

“Congratulations, Aunt Mara,” Bree said. “Mom told me that Wyatt and Bailey are expecting a baby.”

For the first time, Mara’s dark blue eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure. “I’m so excited. Being a grandmother is such a joy.”

The man who came up behind her laughed. “And we’re excited that you’re excited, Mom. Seriously.” He winked at Rylan and Bree. “We already have Grandma Mara lined up for babysitting duty.”

“And you know I’ll be delighted to do it, Wyatt.” Mara tapped him on the arm before turning to the woman at his side. “How are you, Bailey, dear?”

“Fine.” Bailey held up her glass of water in a salute to Rylan. “Just glad I’m not the only one who can’t touch the champagne.”

“Rylan is driving,” Bree explained, in response to Mara’s raised eyebrows.

“You should have stayed here at The Chateau,” Mara said. “Most other people are.”

“Work commitments.” He gave an apologetic shrug.

“Yeah, Cindy from Finance can’t keep things running all by herself.” Bree hid a smile as she snagged another glass of champagne. “What about you, Uncle Russ, are you ready for babysitting duty?”

Russ smiled, but before he could speak, Mara cut in. “Oh, Russ doesn’t do children, do you, darling?” There was a definite lack of warmth in the endearment.

There was no ignoring the provocation in her words. Rylan waited for the storm to break around him. It didn’t. Instead, Russ gave Mara a bleak look and returned to his conversation with Calvin. No one else seemed to notice anything unusual.

“What was that?” he said in a quiet tone, making sure Bree was the only person who could hear.