‘I won’t say anything – but I need to know.’
‘She had been locking herself in her bathroom at night and sleeping in the bathtub.’
Markus swore.
Sierra continued cautiously. ‘We only found out because she forgot to put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door one morning so housekeeping went in and found her bedding inside the tub.’
Markus scrubbed both hands over his face. ‘Fuck.’
‘Do we need to be concerned for her safety?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied honestly. ‘I know she has some past trauma with this kind of thing – her mom was a junkie who let her Johns get too close a few times. But none of her behaviour since the attack has struck me asnormal– if there is such a thing.’
‘Yeah. We’ve been wondering too – about why she didn’t bring close protection …’
‘She told me it would just attract attention and that she wanted to get back to the way things were. I insisted. She pushed back – there’s that stubborn streak. But, yeah, it’s weird. I don’t know if she’s in denial, and I need to be here to protect her. Or if she’s not telling me everything. Or both.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Sierra asked.
There was nothing he could do. Markus wasn’t delusional, and there was a reason Nina was one of the few women who had actually made it in Hollywood. She was strong and independent but that didn’t make him wish she’d lean on him a little too. ‘Trust,’ he said slowly, ‘that she knows her own mind and knows what she needs to heal. Worry, because she’s the other half of my heart and I can’t just turn that off. Hope, that I’m just being paranoid and that your brother keeps an eye on her anyway.’
‘He will.’ Sierra reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘As long as she’s here, we all will.’
‘Thank you.’ Markus returned the squeeze. But because things had gotten far too serious far too fast, he threw back the last of his wine. ‘Now, are you gonna show me a good time or what?’
Sierra held up her index finger, finished her own wine, and replied, ‘Let me go put on my lipstick.’
‘Blood red,’ Markus told her.
Sierra pointed at him and nodded as she rounded the kitchen counter and hurried upstairs.
The Wagon Train at Hunt Ranch was a beautiful outdoor eating area by the lake. Three ancient oak trees circled the grassy lawn, the paved dance floor, and the small stage, forming a natural boundary. Two restored and outfitted wagons, one on either side of the clearing, served as bars. And, at least for tonight, a huge barbecue rig smoked happily away next to tables where staff were busy setting up a series of chafing dishes in preparation for dinner.
Nina, Maverick, and Poppy had claimed a cluster of wicker chairs right beneath one of the oak trees. As the band finished setting up, tuning their instruments and testing the mic, Maverick sipped a beer, Nina, a blended margarita.
It was a perfect June evening, the warm day cooling down to the mid-seventies. All around them, guests dressed in western attire formed little groups. Laughter rang through the air.
Nina was thinking how beautiful it was when she saw Markus and Sierra arrive, their arms linked, their heads bent together as they walked over.
In the big wicker chair next to the love seat she sat on, Maverick followed Nina’s gaze. ‘I haven’t seen Sierra smile like that in a while.’
‘Markus has a way about him,’ Nina said fondly. ‘He cares about making people happy. And he tries really hard – with everyone.’
Maverick didn’t have a chance to reply as Markus and Sierra reached them. But he stood up immediately, asked, ‘Can I get you two a drink?’
‘I’ll stick with Chardonnay,’ Sierra replied and slipped onto the settee with Poppy.
‘Markus?’ Maverick swung his gaze to Markus.
‘Uh, I’ll have the same. Thanks.’
The band started playing and Sierra and Markus picked up their conversation, Nina covertly watched Maverick as he walked up to the bar. Whatever he said to the young bartender had the man grinning openly.
As the bartender turned to pour the wine, Maverick turned too. He leaned back against the bar and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying the crowd, Nina knew, observing, judging. Working.
He never stopped.
As he scanned the crowd of assembled guests, his eyes met hers. Held. That same message passed between them:You know where this is going.
