let these men see her pain.
She’d learned a long time ago not to let her feelings show. Why should two attempts on her life change anything?
* * *
Jason wasn’t really surprised to see Ava appear in his office doorway shortly after lunch. She’d fixed her hair and makeup, donned a zebra-print top and white slacks that covered her ankle injuries. She appeared ready to behave like her usual impossible self.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Jason said by way of greeting.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes warily.
“For you to get your tiger stripes back in place.” He meant the words as a subtle jab, but the by the way Ava threw her shoulders back, he guessed she took them as a compliment. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I need to go out.”
“My men can drive you. I’ve assigned Titus and Adrian to take care of you.”
Ava glanced down the hall, then stepped into the room and pulled the door closed solidly behind her. “I don’t want them following me.”
Jason should have guessed she wouldn’t want to cooperate—if only because she always had to argue. “You need protection. Someone’s trying to kill you.”
“And do you really think your men would stop them?” She leaned over his desk as she had so many times before. But this time, instead of yelling, she kept her voice low, almost pleading. “They don’t like me. I want you to come with me.”
Jason exhaled with exasperation. “I have things to do. I’m the captain of the guard. We’ve got a royal wedding in just over a week, and a bomb went off outside our gates this morning. I’m busy.” He glared at her.
When she glared silently back at him, he added, “I don’t like you any more than they do.”
“Good.” Ava stood straight. “Anyway, everything’s in place for Alexander’s wedding. It’s Princess Anastasia’s timeline that worries me. I should have the venue established by now.”
“Sardis Cathedral,” Jason volunteered. “The same as every other royal wedding in the history of Lydia.”
“Not every royal wedding in the history of Lydia,” Ava corrected him sharply. “Before Castlehead was abandoned, the kings and queens were always married—”
“We’re not going to Dorsi.” Jason stood and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to wince at the pain in his aching back. “I don’t want to hear you speak of it again. It’s absolutely beyond question.”
“You don’t want me to speak of it again?” Ava raised an eyebrow. When Jason nodded, she continued, “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t ever bring it up again if you’ll accompany me to the island and hear the plans I’ve laid out for Anastasia’s wedding.”
Jason clenched his teeth, torn. He hated to let the woman have her way, even one tiny bit. However, he had planned to spend the rest of his afternoon—and even his evening, if necessary—grilling her about her past, searching for any hint of who might be trying to kill her. Alexander’s wedding was coming up far too soon for them to fire Ava and find someone else, but at the same time, if someone was trying to kill her, the whole palace was in danger. The bomb outside that morning had proved that.
Going to Dorsi would provide him with the necessary time and isolation to talk to Ava freely and ask her every question he could think of. It would also get her out of the city, away from where the attempts on her life had taken place and—should trouble attempt to follow them—far from the royal family he’d vowed to protect.
If it carried the bonus of convincing her to drop the Dorsi request once he’d heard her out, so much the better.
He uncrossed his arms. “Fine. We’ll go to Dorsi. How soon can you be ready to leave?”
“I’m ready now.”
“Good. You’ll have to promise me you’ll do whatever I say—the island is dangerous.”
Her triumphant glare didn’t falter. “As long as you hear me out, I’ll do whatever you say.”
* * *
Ava brought along the duffel bag containing all the brochures and papers from her desktop. She adjusted the strap over her shoulder as she followed the captain down the dock to a royal-guard speedboat. If Captain Selini wanted to ask her about possible suspects, she’d be ready with the brochures. They could analyze any and every vendor she’d ever worked with—as well as those she’d rejected—and root out possible suspects among them. Anything to keep the captain busy and too distracted to ask about her personal life.
There was no reason for Jason Selini to know anything about her past. Everyone she’d ever known or loved or cared about was half a world away, in Seattle, her hometown. The distance was far too great for any of them to be suspects. No, surely some angry cake decorator had gone off the deep end and decided to target her for not fully appreciating his buttercream frosting.
The captain hopped aboard and extended one hand toward Ava. She ignored the proffered help and planted one foot on the boat, determined to prove that, while she might be injured, she was by no means helpless.
As her foot touched the gleaming white step, the boat shifted, bobbing in the water. Ava hadn’t anticipated the motion, but, firmly intending to recover her balance on her own, she pushed off the pier with her other foot. The captain had hopped into the boat with grace. She could do so, as well.
The boat, however, wasn’t cooperating, and the bulky bag over her shoulder didn’t help. She careened forward, swung her arms wide and nearly punched the captain as he reached to steady her.
She landed hard against his shoulder and yelped.
“Steady now?” Jason asked, his hands surprisingly gentle on her arms as he held her upright.
She glanced up into his face, furious when she spotted amusement sparkling in his gray eyes. “I would be fine if—” She tried to think. Surely somehow her blunder was his fault, or could at least be blamed on him.
“If you’d taken my hand when I’d first offered it?” He looked far too pleased with himself.
Ava glared at him and pulled away, perhaps a bit too suddenly. Only Jason’s grip still secure on her arms kept her from tumbling backward.
“If this boat didn’t rock so much!” she shot back at him.
“Boats do that.” He watched her a moment longer, letting go of her arms but standing close, ready to catch her again if she tipped.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, flustered that she’d crashed into his shoulder and further distraught that he had such nice shoulders for crashing into. If she was going to embarrass herself, she’d have preferred to do so in front of someone who wasn’t so strong and handsome.
“Can I help you to your seat?” Jason offered.
Though she would rather have walked herself, Ava wished to avoid crashing into those shoulders again, so she took hold of his hand this
