Page 8 of Shadowed Agenda

“I’m glad you showed up when you did,” Regan said, her back turned to him as she searched the ground, “But you shouldn’t have gone after those guys. They could have been carrying a gun or knife and hurt you.”

Pavlo lifted his gaze from the ground and fixed it on her. She looked up. “Babe, I don’t get hurt. I’m the one who inflicts the pain.”

Regan rolled her eyes, and he grunted. She resumed the search for her cell phone.

A few minutes later, Pavlo spotted it. “Found it.” He plucked it off the ground and walked over to her.

“Thank you,” Regan said, forcing a shaky smile. She held out a trembling hand.

Ah, hell.Pavlo took her hand and drew her close. He enfolded her in his arms and held her tight in his embrace, shielding her from the outside world for just a moment. He rested his cheek on her head and said nothing. The trees and shrubs protected them from prying eyes.

Her shaking slowly subsided, and Regan pushed gently on his chest, and Pavlo released his hold. He ignored the tears she swiped from her cheeks.

“If you hadn’t been going for a run and spotted me, I don’t know what would have happened,” she said gratefully, with a hint of awkwardness. She lowered her eyes and stared at her feet.

Letting Regan believe he’d stumbled upon her was easier. Pavlo wasn’t sure how she’d react if he admitted to following her because he was worried.

“I figure you saw the text message when you picked my cell phone off the floor this morning,” Regan continued and finally looked up.

Pavlo nodded. While he’d rather not admit to it, there was no sense lying if he was going to help her. He knew what Regan’s response would be when he offered his help.

The woman didn’t do weak. She’d insist she could handle it on her own. Too bad. It wasn’t happening. Pavlo couldn’t let her deal with the Senator’s militant supporters alone. The strong, self-reliant woman Regan portrayed during publicity events was not an act. Pavlo admired that, but he also knew strength lay in asking for help—something he suspected Regan rarely did.

“Did you tell anyone about the private book signing with Mrs. Aster?” Pavlo asked as they made their way back to the running path.

“Normally, I don’t share that information, but my sister asked. We’re not close. She’s looking after my daughter. I know leaving Emmeline with her is an imposition, and…” Regan’s voice trailed off as she looked up and shrugged.

“You didn’t want to piss her off.” Pavlo finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah.” Regan gave him a wide smile that she seemed to share with everyone but him. The corner of his mouth turned up of its own accord. Maybe they could move their professional relationship from icy to cold with some work.

“Your husband wasn’t able to take care of her?” Pavlo asked, overstepping the boundaries of polite conversation. He hadn’t realized she had a husband. Why hadn’t she immediately contacted him? He knew he’d never leave his wife alone to fend off the Senator’s supporters.

“I’m divorced,” Regan replied, nonplused by his question. “My ex has never been interested in Emmeline, so it’s just us. Usually, my parents look after her, but they’re on a cruise. It’s my dad’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary gift to my mom.”

Pavlo noticed the immediate change in Regan’s expression when she spoke about her parents. She may not be close to her sister, but a tight bond existed between her and her parents. It was something Pavlo could relate to. His family was solid. He knew he could always lean on them.

“Maybe when the two guys report back to whoever sent them, they’ll believe me and back off,” Regan said as they neared the hotel.

She wouldn’t like his response, but the situation was more dangerous than Regan realized.

“Or you could just agree to do the private book signing,” Pavlo suggested. While he understood and agreed with her reasons for refusing, the Senator’s followers would not back down. Pavlo felt it might be the only way to stop the threats.

Regan shot him a withering glance. Their relationship was back to chilly.

Relief poured off Pavlo like sweat from a run when they reached the hotel and walked through the lobby to the bank of elevators. They didn’t have to wait long. Regan stepped into the elevator. He held the door for an elderly couple still a few yards away.

Regan stared at the numbers above the elevator door as it went up. Tension hung thick in the air between the two of them. The hotel elevator seemed to crawl from floor to floor.

The elderly couple could sense Regan was pissed at him. The woman lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head toward Regan. Pavlo gave a small shrug.

He breathed a sigh of relief when their floor number finally lit up.

Pavlo moved to follow Regan off the elevator. The elderly gentleman reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He leaned close and whispered, “It’ll work out, son. Just give her time.”

“Thank you for the advice, sir,” Pavlo said and stepped off the elevator. Unsure how to respond, it had seemed like a safe answer.

He followed Regan down the hallway to her suite, unsure what had happened. Had the man mistaken them for a couple? The thought terrified him.

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