25. Ryder

25

"Istill don't like this," Ryder muttered as Luna stepped into the elevator that would take them to Frank Serafini's second-floor office. Wednesday morning, and apart from one tenacious asshole who'd posed as a member of staff to sneak into the Nile Palace, gotten spotted by a member of the security team, and been slung out, the reporters had been missing in action for a week. In a way, it was unnerving. And if Mark Antony had been among the group who habitually followed Luna everywhere, he'd gone underground now.

"Isn't that my line?" she asked.

"I don't like leaving you here."

"I won't be alone. Romeo and Alessia promised to keep me company."

"Exactly."

Luna glanced up at the surveillance camera in the corner—she was learning—then took a step closer and squeezed his hand.

"If I have to trust you with a Georgian hussy, then you have to trust me with my boss."

The cold horror when Luna had walked in on him looking at a photo of Elene in the buff had been eclipsed by the warmth of a strengthened relationship. Fuck, Ryder had barely even clicked on the attachment before he heard Luna behind him. That was as close to a heart attack as he'd ever come.

And she made a fair point about Elene, unfortunately.

"It's your boss's son I'm worried about."

"Don't be. There's only one man I dream of growing old with."

Ryder knew he had to trust her. He did trust her.

"And who's that?"

"You, idiot." Luna stood on tiptoe and twined her arms around his neck. "Someone needs to bring my Metamucil when I'm too frail to walk to the kitchen."

"People are watching, moon."

"Then let them watch. One of the minions will tell Romeo, and then he'll stop hitting on me in front of you."

There was a fifty-fifty chance of that. If Derek Monroe was in the control room, the information would make its way to the boss, but if anyone else was watching the feeds, Luna would be all over BuzzHub again.

"Not yet. I might not trust Romeo, but I trust you."

Ryder peeled her arms away, but not before she planted a kiss on his lips. Apprehension washed through him, pre-emptive grief at the death of his career, but he couldn't give this woman up. And keeping their relationship under wraps long-term was one dream that would never come true. If she wanted to perform, he'd support her.

Frank Serafini's office was the size of three mess tents and dominated by an ornately carved wooden desk not much smaller than Luna's BMW. The surface was empty apart from a cell phone and a cigar humidor. Frank himself was seated on a couch, one of a pair set on either side of a coffee table at the other end of the room, across a wide expanse of Persian carpet that was probably handmade. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out across the hotel grounds.

Ryder followed Luna as she headed toward the older man.

"Luna…" He rose and kissed her on both cheeks. "What brings you here today? Is everything okay with the show?"

"The show's going great." For a second, she looked uncertain, and Ryder realised she'd lost confidence over the past several months. Or maybe she'd just gotten sick of faking it? This fraud and the issues with her mom were undoubtedly taking their toll. "Isn't it?"

"From my perspective, things couldn't be better. Every date sold out, and the reviews are positive across the board." Serafini Senior studied her. "Yet you don't seem happy."

The door opened again, and Junior walked in, dressed to kill—possibly literally—in a suit, as usual.

"Sorry I'm late. I was in the control centre."

Romeo's gaze held on Ryder for a beat too long, and Ryder knew that he knew.

"I'm having a few issues in my personal life," Luna said.

Senior poured himself a glass of whisky from a carafe on the credenza. "Sit, sit." They sat, Ryder beside Luna on the other couch, and Romeo in a matching armchair. "Are the reporters still bothering you? Let us know which ones, and we'll take care of it."

"It's not the reporters. They've been very, uh, absent. So, uh, thank you?"

"The stalker with the gifts?" Junior asked. "We've received nothing here."

"He's still sending dinner to my apartment every night, and my security needs to take a trip. I was hoping I could get a room here for a while because the thought of being home alone totally freaks me out."

Yesterday, Luna had aww-ed over the dog treats that arrived in the mail from Mark Antony, and Ryder had been forced to remind her that even if the man sent Rocky gifts, that didn't make him a good guy. The evening delivery of pizza had joined the treats in the trash.

"There are agencies in town that supply contract bodyguards," Senior said. "Or I can get one of my guys to drive you around."

"That wouldn't work."

A smirk crept onto Junior's face. "She's talking about overnight security, Papa."

"And no offence, but I don't trust strangers, especially men."

Ryder stepped in. "What Luna is saying"—there was no point in continuing with the "Ms. Maara" bullshit—"is that we still have no idea who is sending these unwanted gifts, so to be safe, we need to restrict access. At this point, everyone remains a suspect. If there's a hotel room available, this would be the best place for her because then she can avoid a late-night trip back home."

"We can provide a room," Junior said.

Senior nodded. "No, a suite. Female staff only. And I'll walk you down to the theatre personal. Gotta look after our star, don't we?"

That had been an easy sell. "We appreciate that, sir. If Luna needs to leave the hotel, a bodyguard from Blackwood will accompany her."

Randall if he was available, or a colleague handpicked by Shani if he wasn't. Ryder hadn't told her the whole story, but she knew enough about Luna's past to understand her hang-ups around men.

"How long will you be gone for?" Romeo asked.

"If all goes as planned, no more than a week."

It was time to go get Elene. The Blackwood team had been batting around the idea of an in-person meeting ever since her double Ds dropped into Ryder's inbox, and after a heart-to-heart with Emmy last night, they'd decided to act sooner rather than later. Ana was available, and she'd meet Ryder in Tbilisi.

When he returned, hopefully with Luna's money, they'd hire security that could keep an appropriate professional distance, and Ryder would start a three-month secondment with the Vegas office. Blackwood needed the manpower, and Emmy understood that both Luna and Ryder were feeling a little fragile right now. Miguel from the Vegas office was going to trade places, and he'd work on the Richmond EP team in return. It was a good compromise.

And Luna was already planning her new life in Richmond. She'd spent an hour yesterday morning plotting on the phone with Caro, chatting about dogs, mostly. Knox and Caro had also paid a visit to the shelter recently, and their new puppy, a fluffy little thing named Remington, was settling in nicely. And also eating everyone's shoes. Blackwood had a crèche, but Emmy had been muttering about setting up a doggy daycare facility as well, and Ryder wasn't certain whether she was joking or not.

"We'll take care of everything," Romeo promised.

"Did you try all the restaurants yet?" Frank asked. "We got a guest mixologist in the Luxor Lounge next week. Swiss guy, last year's world champion. I'll book you a table. You bringing the dog?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Alessia's gonna be real happy about that. We'll get him a bed, and she can pick out some toys." Frank strode across to his desk and retrieved his phone. "Bridget? Reserve the best suite we got for the next two weeks. … Luna Maara. … Right, champagne, flowers, the works. You want a masseuse?" he asked Luna. "We can get you a masseuse."

"Just the room is fine."