Page 3 of Stalking the Bride

2

BELLE

A bomb threat?At the wedding?

Fitch tried reassuring me that these kind of security problems happen often with his family and that everything will be fine, but that did nothing to quell the terror that’s gripping my chest.

I’ve been engaged for a month, under constant surveillance from a private security firm for the last three weeks, and yet I’m still terrified as I pull up to the Cooper mansion with the man assigned as my driver this evening. He looks tough and has a gun, but he’s just nothim.

Conrad…

I’d feel so much better if he was here.

The man who drives me home at night, who tests my drinks for drugs, who double-checks the security of my doors and sweeps all the rooms for bugging equipment. The man who bought me keychain-mace and showed me how to use it if any man tried to assault me. He might as well be my savior.

When I’m around him, the ground I walk on feels much more solid. And without him here, I feel lost. Vulnerable.

I’ve been doing my best not to let my feelings show, but when we pass in the hall or I sit beside him when he drives me home,that’swhen I feel safe. Like no harm can come to me.

Now as I’m escorted into the manor, I feel exposed. My skin is cold. I’m quivering as I’m taken into the lounge where Fitch is waiting. I see he’s scared too but desperately trying to hide it. I try not to recoil as he wraps his arms around me and not let on that I’m revolted by the fact that we’re going to be married.

Pretend you like him, Belle. That’s what my parents say.

I grew up poor like you read about in books. Chewing through stale pasta, eating overcooked expired meat and lots and lots of dried noodles. When I was fourteen, my dad got his dream job as a paralegal for Fitch’s father, Daniel. Don’t ask me how, but he managed to convince Daniel that I would be a great match for his son. And like medieval times, tomorrow I’m being married off in an arranged marriage that I either go through with or my parents cut me off and throw me out on my ass.

One terrible family to the next.

“Everything will be okay,” Fitch whispers into my ear, his voice quivering like a stalk of wheat in the wind.

I don’t believe him.

The door opens, and Conrad strides into the lounge like a gladiator. My entire being relaxes. I instantly feel better. Relieved. Safe. Protected.

He is built like an Adonis, standing heads taller than his men, making him at least six-foot-four with broad shoulders, striated forearms, and the thick, callused hands of a working man. He’s also mind-numbingly handsome. And not in a girly, pretty-boy way either–like the recent wave of male movie stars–but in a classic way, with a chiseled jaw and knife-sharp cheekbones. Knowing he was a Marine just makes him that much hotter.

It’s nearly impossible for me to hide my attraction from him, so I make it a point of simply trying to avert my eyes wheneverI’m around him. I don’t want to give him any ideas. After all, he’s a seasoned veteran, hired to protect me. What would he want with an eighteen-year-old virgin who has zero experience with men?

The female staff all talk about how sexy he is. One of them even made a pass at him and was devastated when he immediately turned her down. I tried not to smile when I heard her screaming about it out back.

I want to rush over to him now and hurl myself into his massive arms, but that would be a major red flag. Not only to Fitch but to Conrad too. So I wait and inch slowly closer to him, like a moon being pulled by its planet’s gravitational force.

“Don’t be afraid, Belle,” he says, fixing his cinder-gray eyes on me. “I’m sure this is nothing. I’ll take care of it. You’re safe.”

I don’t know why, but I’m nearly crying as I smile back at his stoic visage. “I know you’ll protect me.” I feel Fitch’s jealous eyes on me and quickly correct myself. “Protectus.”

He shifts his eyes to Fitch, and I feel a welling loss that nearly knocks me down. “Tell me about this threat,” he says, firm and straight to the point.

Fitch has his hands on his hips, trying to look like he’s in control. “It came in twenty minutes ago. I asked your tech guy to trace it, but he said it came from a burner phone–”

Conrad nods. “Untraceable. That’s typical in situations like this.”

His competence is alluring. I realize I’m still walking toward him, my feet moving on their own while my eyes are glued to his handsome face. Something I should not be feeling stirs between my thighs. I barely know this man. I’m set to be wed tomorrow. Yet he has me feeling on fire, alive, brimming with adventure.

“I bet it’s a prank.” Fitch shrugs, acting nonchalant, but his voice trembles with fear. “One of my exes trying to screw withme. I say we ramp up security tomorrow and go through with the wedding.”

The wedding.Simply hearing those words from his lips has me instantly feeling nauseous.

This last month has felt like a slow countdown to a metaphorical bomb exploding which will forever maim my future life. How ironic that the wedding might be postponed by an actual bomb threat.