“I know something is bothering you.” Cat studied her cousin from beneath her lashes. “Something’s been bothering you ever since we got you back.”
Nadia recognized that look. Sometimes, Cat was like a pit bull with a bloody bone. When she sank her teeth into a juicy piece of gossip, nothing could stop her. Playing dumb with her was useless. The two of them were too close. They’d been raised like sisters, and they’d spent the last several months reclaiming that closeness. If something was wrong with one of them, the other knew it.
“I saw something.” Nadia was hesitant to put her feelings into words. There was so much confusion surrounding what she remembered about that fateful night three months ago. “Or heard something.” Saying it aloud felt wrong. It felt like she was betraying the man who’d helped her and her friend escape from the ring of black market organ harvesters, but it wouldn’t quit nagging at her. It had been stealing her sleep and peace of mind.
“Heard what?” Cat demanded, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
They were in the main dining hall at Anderson Ranch B&B. It was after hours, and they were decorating for a wedding reception that would take place the next afternoon. As the co-event planners for Anderson Ranch, it was their responsibility to coordinate the setup and tear-down for weddings, family reunions, business retreats, private parties, and other gatherings. Since the B&B restaurant was closed to the public on Sundays, Nadia and Cat had full rein of the place. In the morning, some of the B&B guests would eat breakfast in a much smaller adjoining dining room. Others would order room service.
“The whole thing is kind of fuzzy,” Nadia mumbled, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “There was so much going on at the time. Veronica and I were in full Rambo mode, speeding in our rented yacht toward the maritime hospital.” They’d been transporting a dirty bomb of their own making, fully intending to blow up the floating hospital, whose owners had stripped them of their wealth and freedom. “Jude was at the wheel, trying to stop us.” She hadn’t known it was him at the time. He’d been in disguise, posing as their driver, which was another whole story in itself. All that mattered was that he’d succeeded in stopping her and Veronica from a mission that likely would’ve cost them their lives. They’d known the risks, but desperate people did desperate things.
What Nadia wouldn’t give to forget about that night—to put it behind her like a bad dream and move on with her life. But she couldn’t. She’d tried. She was still trying. Maybe if she looked and acted really busy, her cousin would drop the issue and talk about something else.
Nadia shook out a lavender tablecloth and tossed it over the banquet table in front of her. It ballooned over the seventy-two-inch round table and settled into place. She ran her hands over it to smooth out the ripples, then stood back to ensure it was evenly draped. It was close. She gave one end of the tablecloth a gentle tug and stepped back again. This time, it was perfect.
“Am I good or what?” She snickered and broke into a self-congratulatory dance as she moved to the next table.
“You’re good at just about everything other than keeping secrets from me.” Cat moved to the table Nadia had just vacated, setting a centerpiece of green vines and yellow lemons into place. It was simple, gorgeous, and elegant. They’d made the centerpieces themselves. “So spill. You’ll feel better afterward. You were never a suffer-in-silence kind of gal.” Her figure-hugging pine green dress showcased her baby bump. She was due in four months.
“Fine!” Nadia rolled her eyes, realizing that Cat wasn’t going to let it go. “But what I’m about to say has to stay between us. Promise me.” That part was nonnegotiable.
They engaged in a staring match, neither backing down. Cat finally shrugged. “It stays between us,” she agreed.
Nadia could tell her cousin wasn’t happy about the stipulation, but it was safer that way. There were too many unknowns in play. “I overheard Jude talking to the sheriff that night,” she admitted softly.
Cat shrugged, looking disappointed. “Sheriff Malone was giving him his marching orders through his earpiece. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay.” Nadia fluttered the next tablecloth into place, glancing furtively around them to ensure they were still alone. Though they were, she suddenly felt as twitchy as if a thousand pairs of eyes were trained on them. “I don’t think Jude was talking to the sheriff the entire time. I think…” She paused to glance around them again. “I think he was talking to someone else.”
Cat straightened. “How do you know that?”
“Because he was speaking Russian.” Nadia shook her head worriedly. “I’ve been asking around about the sheriff. Discreetly, of course. He’s Scottish, and he doesn’t speak Russian.”
Cat gaped at her. “You don’t speak Russian either.”
Nadia felt her face redden. “I know it sounds crazy, but his words got stuck inside my head.” Maybe it was the trauma she’d endured that night that had permanently branded them in her memory. “The next time I was alone, I made a recording of them and ran them through a translation app on my phone.” What Jude had spoken to the unknown person on the other end of the line had completely floored her.
Cat’s eyes bugged out. “Well, don’t leave me hanging!”
“He called in a favor.” There. Nadia exhaled slowly, both relieved and a little freaked out to have finally gotten that off her chest. “The next thing I knew, a pair of military-grade speedboats cut off our path to the ship and forced us to turn around.” Anyone who could pull off a stunt like that had contacts. Real ones. Powerful ones. Potentially dangerous ones.
“You’re right. It sounds crazy,” her cousin declared flatly. She twirled around to lift another centerpiece from her cart. She placed it carefully on the table Nadia had just finished covering.
Nadia shook out the next tablecloth. “You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Cat kept her back turned. “Except for the part about Jude Westfield having a crush on you. The way he follows you around with his dark, all-seeing eyes…” She gave a breathy chuckle, shaking her head.
“He does not!” Nadia knew her cousin was only teasing, but she wished Cat would find something else to tease her about. Nadia didn’t want to think about a convicted felon that way, nor did she want him thinking about her that way. “Your problem is, you’ve coordinated so many weddings lately that you romanticize everyone and everything you look at.” She doubted there was an ounce of substance to Cat’s claims.
“Maybe.” Cat burst out laughing, and the tension between them evaporated.
“Like I said,” Nadia repeated, “everything from that evening is a blur. I want to forget it. All of it.” She would keep trying to.
Unfortunately, Cat didn’t look anywhere near ready to let it go. “Have you talked to Uncle Ansel about what you just told me?”
“No, and you promised me you would keep it between us,” Nadia reminded, feeling on edge. She and her dad were focused on things like how to be a father and daughter, instead of the uncle and niece they’d spent so many years believing each other to be.
“I did, but I still think you should tell Uncle Ansel.” Cat’s voice was severe.
“Tell me what?” Ansel Belmont’s voice boomed across the dining hall, making Nadia jump.
She whirled to face her father, her insides shuddering over the concern and curiosity burning in his dark gaze. He was a tall, imposing man—the kind of person who walked into a room and sucked up most of the air. She wasn’t sure that he meant to do it or even realized he was doing it. He just did.
If anything, he’d spent the last few months trying to tone down his presence. Trying to fit in. Trying to carve out a place for himself in the small town they’d chosen to call home.
It wasn’t easy, though. He wore his exclusive-label jeans and glossy new boots with the same lord-of-the-realm manner he wore his silk suits and everything else in his wardrobe. Walking into a room and instantly becoming the center of attention was simply part of who he was. When the former owner of the Mount Belmont resort empire showed up, people noticed. When he spoke, people listened.
“Tell me what?” he repeated in a quieter voice as he strode closer to her.
Nadia’s mind raced, trying to come up with something to say that would sound believable. “It’s not worth repeating, but I will if you insist.” She wrinkled her nose at her cousin. “Cat’s trying to play matchmaker, and I’m trying to convince her she’s wasting her time. I happen to like being single.” It was only partially true. With the way everyone around her was pairing up these days, she often felt left out…especially on Friday nights, which Cat and Burke had reserved for their weekly date night.
Cat spread her hands, her blue gaze sparkling with humor. “What can I say? I’m trying to be a good sister-in-law to my three unmarried brothers-in-law.”
It was the perfect dodge, for which Nadia was enormously grateful. She thanked her cousin with her eyes before returning her attention to her father. “Such are my working conditions. I may have to call my union rep.” She didn’t have a union rep. She’d only said it to make her listeners chuckle, which they did.
“You should.” Her father beamed an indulgent smile at Cat that made Nadia’s insides curdle with envy. He and Cat shared a bond that never failed to make her feel like a third wheel.
“Do you need something from us?” She cocked her head at her father, wondering why he was paying them a visit so late in the evening.
His smile faded. “I come bearing news.” He didn’t say whether it was good or bad news. He simply held out his arms to Nadia, and she eagerly stepped into them.
Nothing in the world came close to being the recipient of one of Ansel Belmont’s hugs. While growing up, he’d reserved most of them for Cat, but not any longer. Nowadays, he delivered the lion’s share of them to Nadia.
She hugged him back, hoping he didn’t regret the necessity of transferring them to her. She needed them so much more than her lovely, married, and successful cousin did.
“My news is about Jude Westfield.” Her father’s voice rumbled soothingly against Nadia’s temple.
Wait. What? Nadia stumbled a few steps back, all but yanking herself out of his embrace. “What about him?” Though she didn’t want to think about the guy, the image of his tall, rangy frame sprang into her mind. His stoic features were pale but not sickly pale—the kind of pale that came from spending too little time outdoors. Probably because of his incarceration. Or maybe the reason he looked so pale was that he always wore dark business suits. Or maybe it was because his hair and eyes were nearly black.
“I kept my word.” Emotion strained her father’s voice and expression. “He brought you safely home to me, so I hired him a lawyer. His situation is more complicated than I realized, so I’m not sure what the odds are of getting his sentence reduced. I’m going to try, though.”
“Thank you.” Nadia’s insides were abuzz with a torrent of conflicting feelings. She was grateful to Jude for saving her life, but she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like bumping into him on the streets of Hereford. It was one thing for her cousin to tease her about the guy having a crush on her. It was another thing entirely for him to be a free man in a position to do something about said crush—not that she believed for a second he harbored any such feelings for her.
She doubted that a cold fish like him was even capable of those kinds of feelings. The thought made her shiver.
“Cold?” Her father pulled off his blazer and draped it around her shoulders.
“Yes.” She snuggled beneath his blazer, hugging it tighter around her. She was cold, but not in the way he meant. As soon as they changed the subject, she would warm up.
* * *
“Ladies, we should call it a night.” Genevieve’s musical voice floated across the room, instantly making Ansel’s heart lighter.
“She’s right.” He took his time sending a lazy glance in her direction, not wanting to make his hopes of running into her too obvious. “What are you doing here so late?” It was nearly eleven o’clock. He couldn’t imagine that she was still cooking for the wedding tomorrow, but what did he know?
A shadow crossed her fine-boned features, but it quickly disappeared. “I live on site, remember?” She was standing in the doorway of the silver swing door that separated the dining hall from the kitchen. Her jeans and blouse bore dusty streaks of flour, and her red hair was sliding out of its bun in an array of touchable ringlets.
Ansel stalked in her direction. “Even chefs have to sleep.” He hoped they were paying her overtime for the ridiculously long hours she’d been putting in lately.
At the mention of sleep, she muffled a yawn, transferring the flour from her fingertips to her face.
He pointed at the kitchen, silently indicating she should step inside.
To his delight, she did.
He followed her to the sink, where she started rinsing the measuring cups and spoons she’d left there earlier.
“I think the bigger question is what you’re doing at the B&B so late,” she announced in a teasing voice.
“This.” He reached around her to tear a paper towel off the hanging roll. Dipping it in the running water, he wrung it out and used it to dab the flour from her cheeks and chin.
She jolted at his touch. “Liar,” she accused in the same teasing voice. “You didn’t know what a wreck I was before you arrived.”
Her words tugged at his heart, reminding him of the shadow he’d glimpsed on her face a few moments ago. Something was wrong. But as badly as he wanted to know what it was, he doubted she’d tell him.
“True. I had some news for my daughter and niece.” He wadded up the paper towel and tossed it in the wastebasket. It sank home on his first try. Then he turned around to lounge against the kitchen cabinet, arms folded.
She scrubbed harder. “I hope it was good news.”
“Time will tell.” Her homey, efficient movements never failed to mesmerize him. His late wife would never have stooped to doing something as mundane as washing dishes. “May I drive you back to your cabin?” He knew it would leave her car stranded outside the B&B. “I’ll bring you back in the morning. Just tell me when to show up.”
She parted her lips to turn him down, but she closed them without doing so, confirming his suspicions that something was wrong. Was she afraid of driving after dark? Had someone threatened her?
He straightened and reached for one of the clean white hand towels folded next to the sink. He wordlessly held out a hand for the dripping glass measuring cup in her hands, and she wordlessly handed it to him.
She didn’t speak again until they were finished drying and putting away the dishes. “I’m tired enough to say yes, which means I’m not in the mood to talk.” There was a warning note in her voice. She knew that he knew that something was wrong, but that was as far as the conversation was going—at least, for now.
“Understood. You and I are officially done talking for the evening.” Which didn’t keep him from helping her gather her belongings. Or from splaying his hand against the small of her back as he led her to the door. Or from catching her when she stumbled tiredly in the parking lot on their way to his Bugatti. Or from slinging an arm loosely around her shoulders to prevent her from stumbling again.
Not talking to Genevieve Burberry ended up being the highlight of his day, his week, his month. If he could figure out what was worrying her and fix it, then not talking to her might become his new favorite pastime.
