Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Lieutenant Hays West glanced around the wedding celebration, wondering when Elizabeth Oliver would appear. How would he react? Hays as a rule was calm and deliberate. Others often underestimated him because he was always friendly and smiling. He feared when he saw Liz again for the first time in fourteen years, he wouldn't be composed or unassuming. He'd storm up to her, sweep her off her feet, kissed her until he could convince her to love him again.

Blowing out a breath, he knew he could do none of those things. If the reports were true, his Liz was now the notorious and deadly Elizabeth Oliver. It hurt to hear that. It gouged him clear through. He may be too soft, but he still prayed for Elizabeth morning, noon, and night. Which was ludicrous, as he'd been the recipient of her cold rejection and her sadistic guards. Not even his best friend Jagger or his family knew why he'd stopped pursuing Elizabeth or that he still prayed for her. It was better to keep that to himself.

The crowd was shifting and getting impatient for the arrival of the infamous guests, just as he was. Cade Miller and Jacqueline Oliver had married in a quiet ceremony a month ago but waited to celebrate until the end of July. It was too warm, and he was sweating, even in the high-mountain Montana valley Cade and Jacey called home.

Maybe he was sweating because of apprehension. That wasn't him. He was always the cool, calm one. Not today.

Hays was here at his friend Thomas Oliver, aka Quaid Raven's, request. Quaid had finally broken down and allowed Jacey to invite their father and older sister, Elizabeth, to the party. Quaid realized his father and Elizabeth already knew where Jacey was because of Catherine coming after Jacey and being shot right outside Cade's barn during the battle. Quaid had decided he may as well let her invite them, show they weren't afraid, and ‘flex a bit,' reveal how many savvy and tough friends Quaid and Jacey had.

Quaid hoped Hays could get an inside scoop on Elizabeth. He was to find out if she intended to follow in her mother's reign of terror, or if the governmental officials who had cleared Benjamin and Elizabeth Oliver of wrongdoing were correct and Quaid and Jacey and their spouses could live in peace. Finally.

Hays had no idea who Elizabeth was under the mask she wore and doubted she would reveal anything to him.

She'd ordered him beaten as a besotted eighteen-year-old. His physical wounds had healed, but his heart never had. When all the news came out about how underhanded and evil her mother was, his compassion for her had grown, but he refused to let her back into his heart. For all he knew, the only woman he'd ever wanted to be with was more evil than her mother.

A stir went up in the crowd as two silver Lincoln Navigators cleared the last bend in the canyon and pulled onto the unassuming gravel drive of Cade and Jacey's cabin. There were almost fifty people here—local friends, Sheriff Clint Coleville's armed men and brothers, and a dozen of Captain Aiden Porter's highly trained operatives.

A bodyguard opened the rear door of the second vehicle. Hays's fingertips tingled as the man put out his hand and the delicate hand of Elizabeth appeared first, then her feet clad in high heels and her lean legs. The man lifted her to her feet. She was quick to pull her hand free and edge away from him. Her blue eyes quickly surveyed the scene, a practiced smile on her beautiful lips.

Liz, his soul groaned in longing. Fifty feet away. All he could see was her.

Stunning. Brilliant. Blue eyes that could easily capture him heart and soul again. Seeing her again, in person, slammed into him like a round from a fifty-cal. Slow breaths, wide stance, shield his emotions. He would somehow make it through and not reveal how he'd longed for her.

Unless she focused those blue eyes on him. How would he survive if she looked his way?

He couldn't pull his own gaze away. In a silky white dress with red flowers on it, she was beautiful and classy.

Despite his concern about how he'd react, he'd been instructed to create an opportunity to isolate her from her bodyguards and Father and see if she would open up to him. Her father hadn't come. Interesting. Quaid hoping Elizabeth would talk to Hays when she wouldn't confide in her own siblings was intriguing. Did Quaid think Elizabeth harbored feelings or tenderness for him after all these years and her harsh rejection?

He rubbed at his ribcage. He'd been through a lot of injuries in his life, even shot twice a couple months ago. None of his injuries had seemed to heal slower or stick in his memory longer than the ones Elizabeth had given her guards permission to inflict.

Even with all the emotional anguish and the years apart, he didn't know how he'd react if she was closer than the fifty feet separating them. He prayed for strength and clear vision.

He was grateful Aiden Porter had a huge security presence here to counteract the men surrounding Elizabeth. Her mother's entourage of highly-trained mercenaries. These were the guards who had escaped the arrests for murder and assault that had taken fifteen of Catherine's men to prison and six to the grave with her. In this very valley.

Was his Liz truly as depraved as her mother? He should believe it. He'd seen it himself. Yet it was difficult to keep her in that box.

Elizabeth nodded a greeting to the handsome, young and charming bull rider, Easton Coleville, who'd strode over to welcome her, unafraid of her guards. None of them were reaching for their weapons yet, but Hays wasn't betting on them standing down for long.

The cowboy fawned over her, and Hays couldn't ignore the tightening in his chest. He wanted to storm up to her, shove Easton and her men out of the way, and cradle her close. That was the stupidest thing he could do, both for the mission and for his own battered heart.

He held his ground.

Then it happened.

Elizabeth glanced around the crowd, obviously searching for her sister, and her eyes landed … right on him. Their gazes connected and his world exploded. Her blue eyes. Familiar. Mesmerizing. Full of him. She lit up as if seeing him again was the deepest longing of her heart. Her expressive mouth softened into a genuine smile and Hays couldn't catch a full breath.

She was still his, not the ice queen who'd been featured in the media all these years. Hays was the only one who knew and could see the real Liz. His Liz. Thoughtful, smart, and in love with him.

He started forward. Hays had battled and conquered enemies throughout the world. He was an elite Navy SEAL Lieutenant. It was past time he showed Liz exactly how accomplished he was, how long he'd secretly loved her, and why she should fall into his arms again.

But then her gaze suddenly turned … fearful. That made no sense. She wasn't in danger. Was she?

An instant later, one of her seven bodyguards stepped in front of her, shooting him a challenging glare. The guy was six-two, two-twenty, none of it fat. Hays could see the man had the training, confidence, and evil intent to win at all costs.

Hays returned the confrontational look and stayed on target. The guard didn't bother him. He'd take all seven of her guards down. He had better training now and just as much determination. He wanted answers, and he wanted her.

"Lizzy!" Jacey Oliver Miller's delighted cry drew everybody's attention from the new arrivals.

Hays stopped in his tracks. He wanted Elizabeth in his arms, but he wouldn't interrupt this reunion.

The new bride darted off her front porch and for her sister, her cowboy husband hot on her heels. Elizabeth looked startled and thrilled. He saw a look of longing and love on her face before she covered it, just as she had with him. This time she didn't grow cold, only more cautious. What was she about?

He eased to the side and watched the two ladies embrace—Jacey exuberant, Elizabeth clinging. Had she lived without love in her parents' mansion? Her mother had been a she-devil, but nobody had a bead on her father.

Jacey pulled back and clasped her older sister's hands, talking in hushed tones. Cade Miller evaluated the guards' tightening position as if they'd carry his wife off. Hays, Quaid, Aiden's men, Clint's men, and the Coleville brothers would never allow that to happen.

Hays glanced at Quaid, Elizabeth and Jacey's brother. Quaid also watched the exchange between his sisters, his wife Anna by his side, but he stayed back, his face unreadable. He believed Elizabeth was every bit as depraved as his mother.

Elizabeth glanced at Quaid. She looked like a rigid queen. Jacey motioned to their brother. Quaid softened and walked to his sisters, holding his wife's hand.

The group converged into a tight circle. Everybody watched them. Elizabeth shook Quaid's hand. No hugs like Jacey. That was sobering, but not surprising. Anna gave Elizabeth a quick hug, the innocent lady sparkling.

Hays only caught snippets of the conversation. It looked stiff but all right. It would be intriguing to get Quaid's take later tonight. Would Elizabeth be gone from his life again by then, or would the plan to smuggle her away from her guards and listening devices and find out the truth work?

His CO General Bates had granted him special privileges as an under the radar assignment to do ‘whatever Aiden Porter and Sutton Smith are scheming' for the next month. His best friend Jagger and their unit had been granted paid leave. Jagger had been excited to spend time with his new bride Belinda, and Hays hadn't minded the intriguing assignment. Until he found out why he in particular was needed. Now he questioned everybody's reasoning and motives. Even his own. Could he stay detached around Elizabeth?

Easing back, he got into a position behind some vehicles and a crowd where he could keep an eye on Elizabeth without her noticing.

About fifteen minutes later, he saw her striding toward the house, her chin tilted, her movements practiced. All of her security trailed along. Hays eased closer as she stepped onto the front porch.

"I am using the restroom," she said to the guard closest to her, her voice tight, annoyed. "I will be fine in my sister's country home by myself."

Hays crept closer, edging toward the garage entrance.

"Your father—" the man began.

"My father knows my purpose here," she said, dropping her voice until it was barely discernable from Hays's position. "And you following me into the bathroom will only arouse suspicion."

The man smirked and his eyes trailed over her. "I've enjoyed watching you in the bathroom before."

Hays's muscles clenched, and he had to restrain himself from springing forward and shutting the man's filthy mouth. He couldn't reveal himself to the guard yet, but soon this man would know he couldn't talk to Liz like that, or watch her in the bathroom.

"Even if you feel no respect for me," Liz said in an icy tone, "I suggest you pretend. Everyone here is watching, and if they don't believe I have the power my father has bequeathed on me, and I fail because of you, you will pay the consequences."

The man stiffened. "As you well know, our one and only job is to keep you alive. If that means dragging you out of a potentially dangerous situation, even at the cost of broken bones or dislocated joints, I wouldn't lose any sleep."

"And I wouldn't lose any sleep if the same, or worse, happened to someone you care for, in a random and completely unrelated incident." She lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow.

The man finally looked away.

"Stay on the porch so my siblings do not get suspicious of me entering Jacqueline's home," she commanded.

Hays was intrigued and disgusted. Was she following her father's bidding now, or still her mother's? Or maybe she was the one calling the shots, as Quaid believed. He couldn't believe his Liz would threaten this guy's loved ones, but he'd heard it with his own ears.

The man tilted his head, and the guards started to spread out.

Hays had to move. Quick.

He darted behind trucks and SUVs and entered the side garage entrance before a guard made it there. Stealthily progressing into the house, he expected Elizabeth to walk to the guest bathroom just off the laundry room, as anyone would if they truly needed a restroom. He'd surprise her here.

She didn't angle his direction, but paused in the middle of the open living area as he watched from the darkened laundry room off the garage.

Glancing around, she proceeded up the steps and disappeared into the loft.

Hays was trained in covert ops—stealth and speed were second nature to him. He was up the stairs and watching her sneak through the master bedroom and into the walk-in closet within seconds. How could he play this? Maybe it wasn't the tactic Quaid would prefer, but he wanted her reaction.

He strode to the master closet. The door was cracked. She was planting something on a shelf by a pile of shoe boxes. She was here to hurt or monitor Jacey and Cade. At least he'd tracked her and would stop her.

Nudging the door open, he waited for her to cry out as she turned. She did pivot to face him fully, but she didn't make a sound. Her eyes widened and once again he saw the warmth, love, and longing he'd known from her fourteen years ago. Liz still had his heart. Did he dare reveal that truth to her?

"Superman," she whispered.

Hays's heart slammed against his chest. He ached to cover the feet between them and hold her close for a very long time. Did she know how he'd longed for her? Most would claim it had only been a forbidden teenage romance. He'd fallen in love with her while assigned as partners in communications class, had seen a side of her no one else knew. He needed that Liz, and he knew she needed him because a hundred percent of the time she wasn't alone with him, she was an ice queen.

No matter how he'd tried to ignore them, his feelings hadn't dimmed with age. Had hers? She'd never married. The media philosophized no man was worthy of the regal and brilliant Elizabeth Oliver.

"Knock knock," he said.

Amusement flashed across her face. Would she play along? She'd always laughed at his corny jokes that he'd never shared with anyone else. He'd prided himself on thinking he was the only one who made her laugh. "Who's there?"

He grinned. "Icy."

"Icy who?" She tilted her head, giving him the most enticing look.

"Icy you looking at me."

She laughed, and he was sure she would admit she had been staring at him, that she wanted him, needed him, loved him.

But she shuttered quickly. She was obviously a master at hiding her emotions. Those rare glimpses were probably all he'd get. Folding her slim arms under her chest, she arched an eyebrow. Smile gone. Any openness to him disappeared. "What do you need?"

He smirked as if his hands weren't yearning to touch her and his heart wasn't shattering all over again. Simply being in her presence, remembering what he'd thought they could have, and then remembering what she'd done to him, what she'd turned into over the years, hurt. He blamed her mother, but she was probably every bit as depraved as Quaid and Hays feared.

"A bomb or a listening device?" he asked, folding his own arms across his chest.

Her blue eyes scanned his upper body, appreciation briefly flickering before she turned imperious again. "As if I would place a bomb or listening device in my sister's closet."

"Something worse, then." He arched an eyebrow. "We both know the kind of monster you have become."

Her eyes reflected hurt, but he couldn't let her toy with him. He strode across the space and wrapped his hands around her arms to move her away and retrieve the object she was blocking with her upper body. She wouldn't detonate it until she was clear.

The moment he touched her, he faltered. Whatever retort had been on her tongue didn't come out either.

Their gazes caught and held and years of hurt fell away with that one, up-close glance and touch.

"Liz," he murmured.

His hands slid up her arms, across the soft skin of her neck, and his palms framed her jawline before he even gave himself permission to make the move. Hays was always in control. Always. Except with her.

Liz let out a whimper that made his blood infuse with an exhilarating mixture of warmth and possibility. She wrapped her hands around his biceps and arched up to him.

"Superman," she whispered.

The nickname only she had called him, on her perfect lips, undid him. Hays tilted her face up to his. The reconnection kiss of the century would be all theirs to savor. His Liz, finally where she was meant to be. In his arms.

Their breath intermingled, and anticipation filled him. No woman could affect him like Liz. They could worry about apologies and explanations later. If anyone dared say she was evil again, he would rip them apart.

"Stop," she begged him, the word warm against his mouth but the opposite of what he had expected or wanted.

"Stop?" He eased back just enough to meet her gaze.

Her blue eyes were tortured. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and yanked herself close. Heat filled him. He would capture her mouth and she would never want him to stop.

Instead of kissing him, she angled for his ear, whispering, "Please. I cannot. You don't understand the danger."

This was not a romantic interlude any longer. She was terrified, and something was horribly wrong. Her mother was gone. Was she still not free? He glanced around, cataloguing the clothing, shoes, nobody but them.

"Liz." He cradled her beautiful face and begged her with his gaze to trust him. Danger? To her? To her siblings? There was no danger for him, only the threat of losing her again. Did she have a listening device on her, or was that what she had planted on the shelf?

He bent down and whispered in her ear. "Help me understand."

He eased back just enough to meet her gaze. She studied him, and her lip quivered. Her gorgeous blue eyes grew bright. Hays would kiss that trembling lip until the only reason she trembled was because she ached for him. He would make certain the only reason her eyes ever grew bright was because she was happy and in love with him. He would overcome any danger that existed for her.

Suddenly, she released her grip on his biceps, whirled away from him, grabbed a tiny, flat, paper-wrapped bundle, and shoved it into the V-neck of her dress, right under her bra.

Hays straightened. "Liz. Let me help you."

"Never," she snipped back, a marble statue standing in front of him. Nothing like the brave yet vulnerable girl he had loved. She was putting up a wall. To protect her siblings, herself, her father, or him? He had no answers, just as he never had with her. After fourteen years of longing and frustration, he knew better than to expect an easy resolution.

Liz tried to ease around him. Hays blocked her path, giving her a searching and significant look. She was going to explain herself, or she wasn't leaving this closet.

"If I scream, or push one button on my cell phone," she said, her jaw tight, "my guards will come, and you'll be lucky to survive."

Hays's entire body tightened. He folded his arms across his chest again and stayed right in front of her. "I remember how that goes." He studied her, but she didn't give him anything, not even a flicker of remorse. He was not a whipped puppy; he had to stop letting down his guard. "I've got news for you, Elizabeth Oliver. I will easily defeat your guards, together or separately—their choice." He hoped the mercenaries outside were listening in and gave him that chance. "Then you and I will have a long chat about what you are doing here and how you will never hurt your sister or brother again."

She studied him. There was a smidgeon of respect in her eyes, but she was closed off. She resembled her monster of a mother. A cold shiver traced down his spine.

"I know all about your accolades," she said. "But you will never command me."

Command her? His chest warmed without his permission. He wanted to command her to kiss him, and that was completely out of line at the moment.

"We'll see about that." He extended his hand. "Give me the device and leave, knowing that if you dare hurt Jacey or Quaid, the might of Aiden Porter and Sutton Smith's teams will destroy you."

She smiled. A mocking, cold smile. It chilled him. She wasn't afraid of Aiden or Sutton. Who was she afraid of? Her mother was dead.

"You want this device ?" She patted her chest where she'd hidden it. "Come and get it."

Hays's stomach churned. His innocent Liz would never throw out that kind of challenge.

The mature Elizabeth Oliver clearly couldn't care less who fondled her. She'd been photographed with some of the slimiest celebrities and politicians around. He'd prayed she wasn't ever alone with such men but knew she probably had been.

"Don't test me, Liz," he bit out.

She arched her eyebrows at him. Then she pushed around him.

Heaven help him, Hays let her. The touch of her hands and her body against him made him weak. There was no way he would go after that device. She knew that.

Turning back to him, she gave him a snotty glare. "You might be an accomplished … military man …"

It was then he realized she hadn't said his name or his title. Why? Protecting him from whoever was listening? He wanted to believe that.

"But your purity shines from your eyes. You would never touch a lady inappropriately."

"Which in your world is a disadvantage," he bit out. He had never been this confused or out of sorts on an assignment. He'd lost his smile completely.

"Definitely." Her smile was terrifying. "I believe you could best my men, but you will never win against me."

With that, she whirled and stomped out of the closet.

Hays followed. To make certain she didn't place whatever was in that paper-wrapped bundle somewhere else. Not because he was a puppet on a string and hers to command.

Damage control. That was all he could do at this point.

Sadly, Elizabeth was right. All his physical skills, accomplishments, and battle prowess were no advantage today. Liz could toy with and best him anytime she wanted. He was weak for her, even though she was proving to have morphed into the evil manipulator her brother accused her of being.

She rushed down the stairs and across the open living area. Hays strode after her. She stopped before opening the front door, one hand on the handle, and glanced back at him.

Her gaze was a mixture of defiance and yearning. It stunned him and created a throbbing ache in his heart. Could she ever let down her guard with him as she had years ago? She'd told him then he made her feel safe. He wanted to be her safe space, and so much more.

Her mouth and eyes tightened, and she pushed out the door.

Hays remained standing in the living area, his heart fracturing in his chest. His Liz was gone, and he was still a wimp for her. He'd have to ask Quaid to assign someone else to shadow her and draw her out. Obviously, Hays was the wrong man for the job.

Even worse, he was the wrong man for her.