Page 66 of The Charmer's Gambit
He didn’t argue in that clever way of his.
He didn’t try to win me over with a flirtatious comment or a charming grin.
He didn’t push.
He left.
25
Fighting for a Future
Pissaladière.
That’s what the Mershano Suites employee called the pizza he brought up to the room thirty minutes ago. It looked savory enough, but my stomach was too cramped to eat. Will had yet to return, and the meal only served one.
“Mister Mershano says you try this wine,” the older man had said with a thick French accent. The glass of red stood untouched with the recorked bottle behind it. My fingers kept inching toward it, but I wanted my mental faculties fully charged for his return.
I paced the suite again, walking through both bedrooms and out onto the balconies overlooking Nice. The balmy air did little to warm my exposed arms. My blue dress was one of our purchases from the weekend. Will called it beautiful this morning before wrapping his arms around my back and kissing me so hard that I forgot how to move. Thinking about it gave me butterflies, which did not mix well with the nerves rattling around inside of me.
“Damn it.” My whisper disappeared into the night, floating somewhere in the streets of Nice below. I wanted to admire thegorgeous view but couldn’t. Not because of the lack of sunlight, but because my eyes refused to focus.
I hurt Will.
Me.
And my angry words.
Despite his meddling, he meant well, and I knew that. But in the moment, I’d reacted irrationally to a deep-seated pain brought on by years of living under a man’s control. Will wasn’t Ryan. I knew that on a logical level, but my wounds never fully healed.
Rattling came from the living area behind the sheer curtain, and I turned as Will entered with two suit-clad men. He met my gaze briefly as I walked in, but didn’t hold it or smile like he usually did.
“Rachel, this is Beau and Sam. They’ll be accompanying us to the meetings this week.” His professional tone sent a chill down my spine. I’d heard it plenty of times before, but he hadn’t directed it my way in what felt like forever, which was actually closer to a week.
Had we only kissed six days ago? Our relationship seemed so much older than that.Because I fell for him the first day we met. Now, if only I could admit that out loud.
“Rachel?” Will’s saying my name had me returning from my thoughts. His furrowed brow suggested I’d missed something he said.
“Sorry, right. Hi.” I extended my hand to Sam first, then Beau. They were night and day in appearance. Sam had a sly, light-on-his-feet look to him, while his counterpart exuded a quiet authority. Both flashed me a grin, and Sam’s included dimples. Not sexy ones like Will’s, but they were cute and added to the man’s overall lanky charm.
“Rachel, I thought you might want to hear more about their backgrounds and roles in our plans this week,” Will murmured.“So I’ll leave you all to chat. Gentlemen, great meeting you. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.” He gave the two bodyguards a nod and left us standing in the living area.
Uh . . .I tried to smile at the men but failed. “Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself tonight.”
“No worries, ma’am,” Beau replied, his voice deep. “Hernandez gave us an overview of the situation before we arrived, so we’re up to speed. We’re both former Special Forces and trained to blend in with our surroundings. So if we’re doing our jobs right, you won’t even notice us.”
“Unless you need to,” Sam added with another easy grin. I sensed he was the down-to-earth one of the pair. “We’re here as a precaution only, Miss Dawson. And we’ll do our best to stay out of your way.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Beau asked, his vivid blue eyes intense.
“Umm . . .” My brain refused to function. All I could think about was Will’s professional demeanor and easy dismissal. He’d left without looking at me again, and it left a sour taste in my mouth. As for asking these men questions, I had none. Will likely questioned them thoroughly over the last ninety minutes. “I don’t have any right now.”
“Very good, ma’am. Mister Mershano knows where to find us, so feel free to reach out if you need anything.” Beau held out his hand again, and I shook it, followed by Sam’s.
Both men let themselves out after advising me to lock up. I did as they asked before hunting down their boss. I found him leaning on the balcony outside the master bedroom with another glass of amber liquid in his hand. He didn’t say anything as I joined him, and kept his forearms on the railing with his gaze on the city. I couldn’t tell if his silent treatment was a result of beingdeep in thought or not knowing what to say. So I broke the ice with the obvious question.
“Since when do you drink scotch?” I asked. And where the hell had he found it? He never stopped in the kitchen. Was there a minibar in the bedroom?
