The copy was minimal, just that she was enjoying some time off in the charming seaside town of Valentine Bay. But it wouldn’t stay minimal. If she remained here, eventually someone would get a shot of her and Sten. Once they figured out that she was romantically involved with someone, well, talk about a feeding frenzy.
No. It was no good. The Larsons loved their quiet, private life here in the cove. She didn’t want to mess that up.
And what about her newfound family? She and Harper and Hailey had gotten pretty loose Sunday night. Loose enough that she’d been recognized. She wasn’t sure how much they’d said about being sisters, now she thought about it. Anyone in the Sea Breeze might have overheard. Plus, well, you only had to look at all three of them together to notice the family resemblance.
That would be one hell of a scoop: America’s Darling: Switched at Birth.
Yeah, okay, it would probably come out at some point, anyway.
But if she left now she would have at least a chance of saving her family from the chaos of a media circus.
It was time for her to go.
Time to go and she was in love with Sten and whenever she tried to talk to him about how much he meant to her, he came back with a gentle reminder that what they had was just for now.
Or worse, he would pretend she hadn’t said anything. She might have been a little wasted from the Jell-O shots, back there in the early hours of Monday morning, but she clearly remembered saying she loved him.
As well as the resounding silence that followed.
Was she a fool?
She couldn’t help but think that maybe she had it all wrong and he was right. That what they had was a fantasy, beautiful but temporary. An interlude and nothing more.
She called Rudy.
Four hours later, Dirk and Sergei arrived in a rented Hummer. They chased the paparazzi away—at least temporarily—and checked the cottage and the perimeter for points of vulnerability.
She explained to them that the Larsons were to be given free access to her and the cottage, that she had grown close with them over the past few weeks. She did not need security from them. They were not to be intimidated or questioned. If they knocked on the door, she would let them in.
As for Sten, he wouldn’t knock. And Sergei and Dirk were to do nothing about that except maybe say hello and shake his hand.
* * *
At a little before six, Sten passed the Hummer parked in front of the cottage as he came down the driveway headed for his garage. Was the bodyguard back?
Had something bad happened that would make Maddy call in security?
His pulse ratcheted up several notches.
Maybe he should have taken her more seriously when she seemed so worried about those photographers who’d shown up on the beach yesterday.
He parked the truck and headed for the cottage, letting himself in through the front entrance. A giant, muscled-up Slavic-looking guy was standing, feet wide, massive arms crossed over his enormous chest, a few feet from the door.
“Hi,” the guy said, and actually cracked a reasonable semblance of a smile. “I’m Sergei.”
“Sten.”
“Yeah. I know.” He offered a hand the size of a frying pan.
Sten shook it as Maddy appeared. She looked a little anxious, but otherwise okay.
“Hey,” she said.
Sergei stepped aside and Sten went to her, taking her by the shoulders. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Long story. We’ll talk.” She kissed him, just a quick peck, but it helped to ease his general feeling of apprehension. A little.
He glanced toward the main room and saw the other bodyguard, the one he remembered from before, Dirk.
