Sure, the men were in perfectly cut tuxes and the women wore glittering gowns, but Claire could see the avid gleam in their eyes and—
“Noah York…” A redhead murmured as her lips rose in a smile that never met her eyes.
“Jennifer.” He inclined his head.
“Are the rumors true?” she asked. Then Jennifer directed her stare at Claire. “Are you the infamous Claire Kramer?”
“Jennifer Swan sort of…manages the main gossip pages in town,” Noah said to Claire as his finger stroked down her arm. “And, baby, being called ‘infamous’ is a good thing.”
Wait, had he just called Claire ‘baby’ in front of all those people?
“Then the stories about the two of you being an item are true?” Jennifer demanded as she inched closer. “Interesting. Claire, how do you feel about—”
“Claire’s my fiancée,” Noah said, and his voice seemed to carry all the way across the ballroom. “So, yes, Jennifer, we’re an item.” He gave the group of reporters a wide smile. “And feel free to print that in the papers.”
Cameras flashed then.
“Smile, Claire,” Noah whispered. His lips brushed over her ear. She felt the sensual lick of his tongue against her.
Claire smiled.
And, just like that, with his one, earth-shattering announcement, she and Noah were the center of attention in that ballroom. Everyone was looking at them.
Some people were smiling. Some were whispering.
Claire wanted to vanish.
The crowd closed in tighter.
Noah climbed up a few steps, pulling her back up with him. Then Janelle was there—and she had a microphone in her hand. She offered it to Noah.
Noah planned this.
Now Claire knew why he’d wanted her to wear the perfect dress. His fiancée had to be perfect.
“On the first anniversary of this hotel…” Noah sounded so smooth and polished as he addressed the crowd around them. “It only seems fitting that I get to share news that has made me the happiest man on earth.”
Liar, liar. She hated it when Noah lied.
He lifted her hand into the air. The blue diamonds around her wrist caught the light and seemed to shine even brighter. “Claire Kramer has just consented to be my wife.”
Applause shook the ballroom.
Noah laughed. “And I want you all to celebrate with us. Bring out the champagne!”
And, at his order, the champagne flowed. As if they’d been waiting for that cue—and Claire suspected they had—waiters bustled out with dozens and dozens of champagne flutes. The champagne was distributed quickly.
She even found a flute placed in her hand.
Dazed, Claire’s gaze shot around the room. She saw Drake in the back, leaning against a broad, white column. Like pretty much everyone else, he had a champagne flute in his hand. He lifted it toward her.
Trace Weston stood beside him. Trace had his hand around Skye’s shoulders. Skye stared back at Claire. Did the other woman looked worried?
Do I look terrified? Because Claire sure felt that way.
Everyone was lifting up their flutes as they toasted to her and Noah. Noah had freed her hand when he took his own flute of champagne.
He offered her a grin. “To my future wife,” Noah said, the microphone catching every word he uttered. “Claire, I always want you to be mine.”
Their glasses touched lightly, and she knew what he’d just done.
The reporters. The people. The public display.
The killer had gone quiet, and Noah thought to draw him out again with show.
“Always mine,” Noah whispered and his lips took hers.
Claire was running, and she knew it. Noah was surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, and it had been hard, but Claire had managed to slip away from the crowd.
And she was now dashing for the exit as quickly as she could.
“You didn’t tell me you were planning to marry Noah.” Skye slipped into Claire’s path. She was smiling, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Congratulations. I hope you’ll be—”
Claire caught Skye’s hands. She brought her in close, as if she were hugging the other woman. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. He never asked me to marry him. This is all some plan of his.”
A plan that was ripping her apart. Noah didn’t know how long she’d actually dreamed of having a life, a husband who loved her.
He didn’t know how hard it had been for her to stand there while he pretended they were the perfect couple.
She eased back from Skye, but made sure to keep that terrible, fake smile on her face. In case others were watching. And they were.
Skye’s gaze searched hers. “What plan?” Skye whispered.
“He’s putting us in the spotlight. I think he wants the killer to come at him again.”
“So Noah can catch the guy.” Skye was gorgeous in a black dress that fit her like a glove. “But he’s pulled you into the cross-fire, too.” Anger roughened her words.
“I was always in the fire.” That danger was nothing new. She’d been hunted since she was sixteen, in one way or another.
She eased away from Skye. “I just…I need to be alone for a few minutes.” Then she’d get her control back. She’d stop feeling as if she were about to break apart. But when Claire looked around the ballroom, she saw Trace striding toward them. And Noah had pulled free of his throng and he was closing in, too.
“Buy me just a few minutes,” Claire said.
Skye nodded.
Claire rushed for the doors. A few more steps, and she’d head outside and be able to breathe for a bit. She’d suck in some air on the balcony, pretend that everything was fine, and she’d be okay.
But she didn’t make it to the balcony. A man’s hand snaked out and caught her arm, and Claire opened her mouth to scream.
“No need for that,” Drake said as his hold tightened around her. “You know you’re safe with me.”
He pulled her behind one of the huge, towering columns that lined the outskirts of the ballroom. He caged her against that column, and he lifted her left hand. “There’s no ring here.”
“No.”
“You didn’t look like a blushing bride-to-be up there.”
“That’s because I didn’t know I was going to be one.”
He exhaled. “He should’ve told you.”
Drake seemed to surround her fully then, and, hidden behind that heavy column, no prying eyes could see them. “Did he tell you? Did you know what Noah was planning?” It was her life. Noah should never have pulled a stunt like this without talking to her first.
“Hell, no. The guy’s always twisting up the game.”
There was no anonymity for her now. Her face would be everywhere. In the papers. On the news. Everyone would know who she was. Worse, they’d know who she’d been.
“I need to get out of here,” Claire said, nearly desperate. “Those people—it’s too much. I feel like they’re vultures circling in for the kill.”
“Because that’s exactly what they are.” He stepped back, surprising her. Then he took her hand in his.
Claire’s breath eased out.
“Interesting,” Drake murmured.
What?
“Come on. I’ll get you some freedom.” Then he was guiding her though the ballroom’s back doors. In moments, they were sliding into the private elevator. “You know, you’re leaving your fiancé in the middle of your own party.”
A shiver had her tensing. “I’ll go back. I just need a few moments.”
His hand still held hers.
“You didn’t tense on me,” Drake said as the elevator doors closed.
She stared at their hands. No, when he’d taken her fingers in his, she hadn’t tensed. Claire had actually felt relieved by his touch then.
“Not afraid of me anymore?” Drake queried softly. “Did you decide that I don’t have a monster inside?”
She pulled away from him. “I know you do.” But, no, she wasn’t afraid of him.
Maybe she should be.
“You don’t belong in Noah’s world.”
Those words had her blinking in surprise.
“When this is all over, you need to leave. Run as fast and as far as you can, but be warned, Noah will follow you.”
“W-why are you telling me this?”
His smile was sad. “Because I like you, and I don’t want to see you ripped apart by the vultures that always circle him.”
The elevator doors opened. Claire hurried out—
And she slammed right into Austin Harrison.
“She wants some time alone,” Skye said as she put her little ex-ballerina body right in front of Noah. Like she was going to slow him down. “Give her that time,” Skye ordered. Her hands were on her hips and a glower was on her face.
Noah started to brush by her, but then Trace slid up behind his wife. Trace lifted a brow. “I’d suggest you listen to that advice. I saw Claire’s expression a few minutes ago. That woman is running scared.”
And that was why he needed to get to her. He hadn’t told Claire his plans beforehand because he’d known that she’d balk. But if he introduced her as his fiancée in front of everyone…I gambled that she’d stay quiet. That the shock would keep her at my side.
It had. For a time. But when the shock faded, Claire had sure run fast.
“She can’t keep running from me,” he said. She needed to listen to him. He had a damn fine plan in place.
“She’s not running from you. She just wants to be able to breathe without every reporter in the room watching her.” Skye’s smile was grim. “I know how that feels.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “You think I screwed up tonight, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Skye didn’t pull her punches.
His gaze hit Trace’s.
His friend nodded. Dammit. They both thought he’d screwed up?
“I am protecting her.” He expected Trace to get that. “She can’t just keep hiding out at the Towers, waiting for that asshole out there to make a move.” He couldn’t do that. He’d never been the type to wait for an attack to come. “In battle, you always take the offensive if you want to—”
“This isn’t battle,” Skye said softly. “This is her life.”
Shit.
“And do you really think she liked that her first proposal was a fake one?” Skye’s voice sharpened even more. “No woman likes that.”
He schooled his expression. “Who says it was a fake proposal?”
Trace brushed a kiss over Skye’s cheek. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger, just plenty of flash around her wrists. Those bracelets…were they supposed to show everyone that she was chained to you?”
No, the bracelets had been designed to show Claire that she didn’t have to constantly worry about her scars. He hadn’t wanted her to worry about pulling down her sleeves to hide the scars or finding ribbons to bind her wrists. “You don’t understand my relationship with Claire.”
Trace shook his head. “I’m starting to think you don’t, either.”
Noah’s gaze scanned the ballroom. “I need to find her.” He should be talking to Claire, not Trace. He had to make sure she realized that nothing had changed between them. I’m not using her.
Trace motioned toward the exit. “Drake took her upstairs.”
“Then, excuse me, but I have an elevator to catch.” He hurried by Trace.
“And some groveling to do,” he heard his friend mutter.
Noah’s jaw locked as he entered the elevator. There would be no groveling. Claire would realize that an engagement was perfect for them. The attacker had targeted him once, so this would be like waving a red flag in front of the guy’s face. He’d come after Noah again but this time—
I’ll be ready for him.
Claire scrambled back even as Drake surged forward. Drake grabbed Austin and slammed the guy into the nearest wall. “What the hell are you doing here?” Drake demanded.
Austin jerked in his grip, but Drake wasn’t letting the guy go. “I-I just needed to see Claire!”
Her heart was about to burst out of her chest. Her hands were shaking, her stomach churning, and Claire couldn’t look away from Austin’s eyes—it’s like I’m seeing Ethan again.
Only Austin…he’d never been like Ethan. Austin had been the good brother. The one who graduated at the top of his class. The one who’d held the door open for her when she used to work at the diner. He’d been the one who—
Came to tell me how sorry he was. When she’d been in the hospital, recovering from the suicide attempt, he’d been there.
“How did you get past security?” Drake’s hold on the guy tightened even more.
“I-I bribed a guy downstairs. I heard about the party tonight and knew this would be my best chance to get in.” Austin’s voice was tight. His gaze was on Claire—pleading? “I just need a few minutes, that’s all.”
“You’re about to get an ass beating, that’s all you’re getting,” Drake snarled right back. “Then the fool who let you up here is getting fired.”
Austin’s gaze narrowed on Drake’s furious face. “I know you. You were at my father’s funeral.”
Drake just glared at him.
Austin’s skin paled. “You were there…and my brother…his car exploded…when you were there!”
