Boston?

“I didn’t know that,” Pierce admitted with care. He had the definite sense, honed by years of service to this family, that the subject of Michael was a minefield.

“No one does. Rodrigo does his best to keep it a secret.”

“Then it is a secret,” Pierce acknowledged. The former head of the prince’s security was relentless in his protection of the royal family, and had redoubled his efforts since the prince’s death.

“I want to offer you a job, Pierce. I know you don’t have one now.”

“You don’t know that I want one,” he countered, even as his interest pricked.

Farah waved a hand and he wished she’d keep it on the wheel. “My friend from college is getting married and I’m one of her bridesmaids. Maman said no, but I said yes. I want to do it. Rodrigo said I could do it if he had some trusted friends in attendance. I chose you.”

Pierce was slightly relieved that this was about Farah getting her way. He felt that he was on familiar ground. “You chose me,” he repeated. “What exactly does that mean?”

“That you’d be my date, of course.”

The memory of the expression on Jacquie’s face in the lobby of F5F was enough for Pierce. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m old enough to be your father. Everyone would think I was a pedophile.”

“I’m hardly a little girl anymore, Pierce, and you certainly didn’t touch me then.”

“Still, no.”

“You can’t say no!”

“I just did.”

She turned the corner too fast, hit the brakes hard enough to make the tires squeal and skidded to a stop in front of his building. It was a perfectly executed move: the car slid sideways into the only available spot and stopped inches from the curb.

Pierce knew better than to ask how she’d known where he lived. Rodrigo would have done his homework.

“You can’t really say no to me, Pierce,” Farah insisted, turning toward him. “I have to go to this wedding! She’s my best friend.”

“Then you’ll have to find another way. I won’t pretend to be your date.” Pierce reached for the door handle.

“You know the payment will be generous.”

He froze then turned to look at her. “And you’re old enough to have realized by now that it’s not always about money.”

Farah blinked, obviously surprised.

Maybe she hadn’t realized that yet.

If not, Pierce was offering up a lesson. Her father would have approved.

“Good night, Farah. Thank you for the ride.” Pierce got out of the car before she recovered herself. He resisted the urge to kiss the ground, even though he was glad to be on his own two feet again. He did feel more than a little jangled.

He glanced back at the car, thinking Farah might make a final entreaty, but he should have known better. She never begged for anything. She revved the engine and peeled out of the spot, the tail lights of her car rapidly disappearing down the darkened street. Pierce wondered how many of his neighbors had seen his return, but he didn’t really care.

Who would she take to the wedding instead of him?

It wasn’t his problem, even though he feared she might not be safe.

Her safety wasn’t his problem either, not any more.

Pierce frowned. He felt agitated and that meant he had to figure out why. He didn’t tolerate disruptions in his mood: agitation could lead to mistakes. He was putting his key in the lock when he knew what had shaken him up.

It hadn’t been Farah’s driving. She drove fast, but he recognized that she had been trained well and that she made good choices. That she made it appear to be recklessness annoyed him because it was provocative, but that wasn’t the reason he was unsettled.

It was the lost opportunity with Jacquie. Farah hadn’t cared whether she was interrupting something in his life. She might not even be aware that other people could have plans that didn’t mesh with her own.

But Pierce guessed that he had little chance of anything with Jacquie, after Farah’s little display. He’d seen the disappointment in Jacquie’s expression, and had their places been reversed, he would have felt the same way.

Fortunately he wasn’t a man to surrender a battle over a misunderstanding. He’d find Jacquie at the club in the morning and apologize.

Locating her would be easy. She worked nine to five in the club’s office.

Convincing her to give him a second chance would be the real challenge, but Pierce had the definite sense that it would be worth whatever price he had to pay.

Just that kiss would keep him warm all night.

Damn Farah anyway.

Three

Jacquie was home, all the lights turned on to keep the ghosts in their corners, and hanging up her coat when the apartment phone rang. Of course, it was Cole. He wasn’t one to leave anything to chance.

“What took you? I already called you twice,” her youngest son complained. “It went to voice mail both times.”

“It took me a while to get a cab. Some show must have just ended.”

“I thought maybe you were distracted by something juicy.”

Jacquie laughed as if he wasn’t close to the truth. “Maybe it’s better not to be accessible all the time,” she suggested.

“But we might need you.”

“There’s not much I can do to help you from a thousand miles away.”

“Is this the part where you tell me that I have to learn to stand on my own two feet?”

Jacquie smiled. “Maybe I don’t have to.”

“Well, don’t make me answer to Ashley.”

“Let me guess. Monday is your assigned night to check on me.”

“Oops. You weren’t supposed to know we had a plan.”

“You don’t have a plan. Ashley has a plan. That girl is an organizational force to be reckoned with. She was born with a calendar in one hand and a spreadsheet in the other.”

“Ouch. You must have been glad when that labor was over,” Cole teased and Jacquie laughed. “No wonder she’s the apple of her mama’s eye.”

“Don’t believe it for a minute. You all are.”

“What’s it like to have all those apples in your eye?”

Jacquie shook her head.

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