jaw clenched and released. ‘I’ll deal with your father.’
Before she could think of anything else except the sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach he turned to the other man.
‘Take care of her. Once she’s secure for the night call me and I’ll come and give you a complete brief.’
The man nodded.
Wolfe nodded and then turned his eyes briefly to hers. ‘Goodbye…ma’am.’
Ava closed her eyes and leant her head back against the butter-soft leather seats inside her limousine. She was alone in the car, having forbidden her new bodyguard from riding with her. He hadn’t liked it, but she’d given him the super-special superior look that had never worked on Wolfe and he’d acquiesced.
Now she felt horribly alone and hankered for something familiar. Something to anchor her in a world that kept moving and changing at a pace she was struggling to keep up with. She’d had so many decisions to make lately she was completely exhausted. No wonder she felt so out of sorts. Life-changes usually happened one at a time and with some sense of order. Didn’t they? At least that had been her experience to date. But these past few weeks nothing had been as it should. Least of all her.
In a split-second decision she knew Wolfe would call a ‘spontaneous reaction’ Ava instructed the driver to take her to her gallery, and immediately felt better.
The restless energy flowing through her was somewhat appeased at the thought of seeing Monique’s new works. They’d been installed two weeks ago, and viewing them on her smartphone wasn’t the same as standing back and inspecting them in person.
She smiled as her change in plans was relayed to the other two cars. No doubt Wolfe would have a kitten…but he had chosen to abandon his post and there was nothing he could do about it. She imagined the conversation they might have if he were here. Was it wrong to enjoy their mental tussles with each other so much?
When the car stopped Ava didn’t wait for her chauffeur to open her door but did it herself, breathing in the sweet damp air of Place des Vosges.
Her new bodyguard stopped beside her. ‘Ma’am, I’d like you to wait a few minutes before heading inside.’
Ava considered that briefly and then realised why. ‘Is Wolfe on his way?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Ava cursed. ‘I thought you were in charge now?’
‘I am. However—’
‘Never mind. And, no, I won’t wait for your boss to join us.’
Pivoting on her heel, she set off across the square to the row of shops she knew like the back of her hand. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet night that was only broken by the low hum of fast-moving cars on the main road and the squeak and clunk of a garbage truck as it rattled along the cobbled streets.
Dan reached the solid metal door to her building before her and held his hand out for the key. ‘I’ll do that, ma’am.’
A car door slammed somewhere close behind her but she ignored it.
‘I can do it.’ It might be the last time she ever did, and she wanted to take in every moment.
‘Ava!’
Wolfe’s hard, angry voice made her fingers fumble the key, and that made her mad. He wasn’t going to ruin this for her by muscling his way in. She wouldn’t let him.
Of course her stupid key chose that moment to become stuck and, frustrated, she twisted it in the opposite direction. Wolfe’s harsh, ‘Get back!’ confused her, and then a strong arm wrapped around her middle and yanked her sideways seconds before a deafening bang exploded in her ear.
SHE SCREAMED AND then lost her breath as she felt as if a giant boulder had fallen on top of her.
‘Secure…the…area.’
Wolfe’s deep voice, laden with pain, instructed the men running towards them. Ava coughed as she tried to breathe the filthy air around them, but her lungs were constricted. Feeling winded, she tried to twist onto her back and realised that it was Wolfe who was smothering her with his body.
When he shifted she dragged in a bucketload of acrid-smelling air. ‘What…?’
‘Ava. Don’t move.’ Deft hands ran over her body with mechanical efficiency, and when he was satisfied she wasn’t seriously injured he hovered over her, his movements somehow lacking their usual fluid grace.
Hearing a ringing sound in her ears, she peered around to see that the front of her building was completely blown apart. The fire door she had installed as a precaution lay crumpled as if a giant fist had tried to punch holes in it.
Bewildered by the chaos and devastation around her, and only peripherally aware that Wolfe’s men surrounded them, Ava glanced at Wolfe. ‘Mon Dieu, you are hurt.’
Ignoring The pain in her hands and hip where she had hit the pavement, she reached out to the jagged tear down the sleeve of his jacket. The white shirt beneath was already turning crimson under the glow of the street lamp that remained intact like a silent sentinel above them.
‘Get her…into the car,’ Wolfe rasped, shrugging out of his torn jacket.
‘No.’ Ava tried to reach for him, her only thought to help him, but he slashed his hand in the air.
‘Now.’
His voice brooked no argument and before she could do anything his men had gripped her arms and steered her back towards the limousine. She could hear Wolfe ruthlessly issuing orders and the distant wail of a police siren. Concerned voices filtered through the dust and smoke and then faded away as Wolfe’s men held back any curious onlookers drawn by the explosion.
Within minutes of the police arriving Wolfe was beside her in the car, wearing a black leather jacket; nothing about his appearance suggested that he’d just thrown himself on top of her as a bomb had blasted glass, bricks and plaster all over him.
He seemed calm and eerily controlled.
By contrast Ava couldn’t stop trembling. She was to blame for what had happened. Wolfe had told her not to change her itinerary and she hadn’t listened. She had wanted—what? The comfort of the familiar? To get back at Wolfe for leaving her? To make him come after her?
She let out a shaky breath. Right now all she knew was that she had put those assigned to take care of her in danger and she felt awful.
On top of all that the threat to her life was obviously real! Somehow she had held on to the notion that Wolfe was wrong. But it wasn’t he who had been wrong, it was her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered helplessly. ‘I feel terrible.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ His voice was clipped, withdrawn. It made her feel worse because she could tell he was blaming
