in her closet. That wasn’t a place she wished to explore, certainly not with this man who hated her.
But what other choice did she have?
TWO
Jason Selini felt the tiniest glimmer of sympathy toward this woman who’d caused him so many headaches over the past several months. Ava Wright was impossibly stubborn, sharp-tongued and utterly unreasonable once she’d made up her mind to have her way.
And she always got her way. Jason had never been able to override her wishes except for a few times when he’d been able to prove her plans would cause imminent danger to royal life and property. The rest of the time she was a steamroller, exerting her will in spite of all his efforts to make her see reason.
And yet, as he glanced at her now, perched on the edge of the hard sofa in the waiting room of the royal-guard headquarters, she looked shaken. More than that, she looked like a scared little girl, and for the first time he realized she was almost certainly younger than his thirty-three years, in spite of her international success as a wedding planner.
Though the woman usually looked as impeccable as the weddings she planned, the incident had marred her facade. Her hair, which was dyed a harsh red and usually styled in jagged spikes shooting out from her head, now looked as limp and dazed as the rest of her. And her makeup, which had always been flawless, if a bit fierce, was now smeared, making her look eerily like a homeless street urchin, save for the expensive suit and shoes.
With the last of the first-aid items tucked safely away in the case, Jason realized he could delay the inevitable conversation no longer. “I’d like you to come to my office.”
“Why?” She blinked up at him, dark smudges outlining her eyes, highlighting the fear that glimmered above the green of her irises.
“I need to get your statement about what happened while everything is still fresh in your memory.” He didn’t add that he wanted to grill her on possible attackers and motives. Though the crime had technically occurred on the Sardis police side of the street, given the proximity to the palace and Jason’s duty to protect the royal family, Jason considered it his job to root out the reasons behind the attack—and prevent anything similar from happening again. He appreciated the expert help of the Sardis bomb squad, and he’d be sure to keep them in the loop with everything he learned, but he wasn’t about to sit back and wait for them to do his job for him.
Ava scowled. “You think that’s a moment I’m likely to soon forget?”
“Or suppress. It happens all the time. The more violent the incident, the bigger the wall the victim puts up.” He extended his hand as a gentlemanly gesture, fully expecting her to refuse it.
To his surprise, she placed her palm in his and leaned against him as she levered herself up from the sofa. It occurred to him that, prior to throwing her over his shoulder moments before, he’d never touched the woman. Her hand felt small and shaky as she held tight to him. From what he knew of her, he was certain she wouldn’t have leaned on him at all unless she’d had no other choice. Ava was too independent for that. Her first steps were cautious, but then she walked beside him with increased confidence.
“Your legs okay?”
“Better now, thank you.”
Surprised at her thanks, Jason almost smiled. “You’re welcome.”
He led her back through to his office, where her plans for Princess Anastasia’s wedding to Kirk Covington still lay atop his desk. Her requested location was fraught with hazards, even under the best circumstances. Given the explosion that could have killed them both, the plan was all the more unthinkable. He helped her into a chair, then shoved the stapled pages to the side of his desk.
Jason opened up a fresh incident-report template on his computer. “Now, tell me your version of what happened.”
Ava sat up straight, looking less shaken already. “We were in here, discussing the plans for Princess Anastasia’s wedding location.”
Jason did his best to accurately type her words, though he very nearly switched out discussing for arguing about but caught himself before he hit the wrong keys. The way his screen was angled, Ava might be able to see his words. Best not to upset her further—he knew how obstinate she could be when angered.
“And then?” he prompted once he’d entered all she’d said.
“Well—” she looked at him bluntly “—you were being completely unreasonable—”
“That’s not relevant—”
“It’s an island.” Ava rose on her seat and picked up her previous argument right where she’d left off before stalking out in a huff earlier. “If anything, it’s more secure than the Sardis Cathedral and just as safe as anything within the palace walls.”
“The palace complex is the most secure location in Sardis.” Jason would have directed Ava back to her statement, but the security of the palace complex wasn’t something he could let come under question. Along with ensuring the safety of the members of the royal family, his primary duty was to keep the palace grounds secure at all times.
“Oh!” Ava threw back her head with a sarcastic fake laugh. “And the gunmen who ran amok during Duchess Julia’s titling ceremony—was that an example—”
Jason gave up trying to type and instead reached across his desk toward the woman, pointing one finger as he spoke. “That is precisely why I can’t allow you to attempt to hold a royal wedding on an island. If gunmen can get inside these walls, they can easily attack an island.”
“Precisely my point. If either location is equally vulnerable—”
“They’re not vulnerable!” Jason snapped, wishing to end the conversation and get back to typing his report.
“Then there shouldn’t be a problem with using the island of Dorsi—”
“The island of Dorsi is off-limits. No one is allowed to step foot on that island.”
“All the more reason why it’s perfectly—” Ava rose to her feet as she tried to cut off his words.
But Jason would not be interrupted. “It’s too dangerous. It’s forbidden!” Jason found he had to stand as well, just to make himself heard. Besides, he couldn’t let the redhead tower over him.
“It’s absolutely not dangerous. My clients have already vetted the location—”
Outraged, Jason leaned across his desk. “No one is allowed to step foot on Dorsi.”
Ava planted her hands on the desktop and glared at him across the shiny surface. “I already have.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Princess Stasi and Kirk Covington took me there to show me where they wanted to hold the ceremony—in the ruins of the ancient cathedral where the Lydian kings and queens of old were married.”
“You’ve been to the island of Dorsi?” Jason had been there once, too—a memory he’d prefer to forget. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Maybe too dangerous
