Page 52 of Brutal Ice

Royal opened the theater’s back door. She hurried out. It was still daytime, and the sunlight spilled onto her. Violet blinked quickly and?—

“Violet!” A shout of her name that had her head jerking to the right.

“Violet, was there another attack on you?”

Then her head whipped to the left.

A swarm of people—reporters?—waited just beyond the rear stage door. Some were filming with phones. Some had bigger cameras. They all closed in.

She shuddered and backed up and ran straight into Royal’s powerful chest.

His arms immediately closed around her. “It’s all right,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve got you.” And he did. His body curled protectively around hers, and he rushed forward with her. He was big and strong, and he shielded her completely.

The questions flew. The phones and cameras kept filming, but Royal didn’t stop. He got her to his car. Tucked her into the passenger seat of the Benz—a Benz with an already repaired windshield—and then, in seconds, he was in the driver’s seat beside her. The crowd jumped back as he reversed, and then Royal got them the hell out of there.

Her hands fisted in her lap. Micah had told her that the reporters had gotten wind of the story, but that…that had been a whole lot more than just a small contingency of local journalists.

“So much for them just being out front,” Royal groused.

She forced her hands to unclench. “I don’t get why there were so many of them.”

“Because your story was leaked, sweetheart. Someone tipped off the press, and if I had to guess, it’s that prick artistic director. He’s trying to sell more tickets by using you. You’re freaking PR gold to him. The dancer who was the tragic victim.”

She stiffened. I’m not just a victim.

“You got away, and now he’s selling tickets like mad. And I hate to tell you, but national outlets were already picking up the abduction story. Now with this attack…” A long exhale. “You will need to stay with me. Not just for tonight. The reporters are going to be hounding your steps. They want a story, and you’re the perfect, juicy lead.”

“Because I’m so…tragic.” A brittle note entered her voice.

He slowed at the stop sign. Turned his head toward her. “Because you’re beautiful. Because you’re breakable. Because people look into those big, golden eyes, and they want to help you. They want to fucking destroy anyone who hurts you. Rip the bastards apart and bury the remains so deep in the ground that no one will ever find them.”

Um, okay. She fiddled with her seatbelt. “I’m not sure that’s what most people would want to do for me.”

“Guess it’s just what I want to do for you.” A pause. “You just lied to a detective for me.”

She had. “You shouldn’t be a suspect. Lying seemed like the easiest way to get you cleared.”

“You sure about that?” His hands gripped the steering wheel easily as he turned and drove down the road on the left. “Maybe I came to the theater just to see my handiwork up close and personal. Maybe I wanted to rush in and save you because I want you to keep thinking I’m a hero. Perfect timing, don’t you agree?”

“That’s not funny.” Anger stirred in her. Adding to her already brewing batch of emotions. “Why are you trying to make me doubt you?”

“I don’t know.” Low. Muted. “Maybe because you’re the first one—other than my brother Beau—who has believed in me so much.” He cut her a glance. “Not real sure what to do with you. You know my deepest secrets. You could get me locked away at any time. Guess I’m trying to find out what your tipping point is. When will you turn on me?”

She sucked in a breath. “I’m not going to turn on you.”

He stared at the road again. “He’s not my blood brother. Not like with your family.”

Oh, shit. My family. Her brother Dawson would see the news. She fumbled with her phone.

“Beau’s past is a lot like my own. He’s the one constant I always had. He’s done his best to make sure I don’t go completely off the deep end and get lost in the dark.”

She stopped fumbling with the phone and focused on him. “You honestly think that could happen?” Then before he could answer, Violet shook her head. “I don’t. You have far too much control for something like that to occur.”

A red light stopped them. His head turned slowly toward her. He flashed a smile that sent a shiver chasing down her spine. “Don’t be too sure.”

But she was. For some reason, she felt completely sure of him. And… “I feel safe with you. When I was in that coffin and I looked up and you were there, I knew I’d be okay.”

His smile slowly slipped away. He stared into her eyes as if trying to figure out some big mystery. No need for that.

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