“Actually, I am.”
“Ugh. Fucking paparazzi.”
“Paparazzo.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you get off on correcting people you’re stalking?”
“I’m sorry, what? Who says I’m stalking anyone?”
I give this man a thorough once-over. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes. Scruff lines his jaw. Freckles dot his face. His light-brown hair is perfectly styled.
The read I’m getting on his face? He’s giving me attitude.
The balls on this guy.
“You’re trespassing on private property. You have no right to be here.”
“I was told this was where I need to be.”
The man in question tries to step around me, but I throw out a hand, stopping him. “I don’t know who you work for, but you’re not getting any pictures of my family.”
God, these people really have no limits on what they’ll do to grab a photo.
“Wait, you think I’m a paparazzo?” He looks horrified at my accusation.
“It’s pretty obvious.” I cross my arms. If this guy is going to give me attitude, I can give it back in spades.
“Love, I’m the furthest thing from paparazzi.”
I ignore the way he saidlove.How very British of him it is.
“Why should I believe you?”
He pulls a business card from his jacket pocket and hands it over. “Simon Belvy. Private security for the Davies family.”
“What?” I take the proffered card from his hand. There it is, written on an all-black business card. Belvy Security.
Shit.
“You’re hired security?”
A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Last I checked.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I’m assuming you’re related to the bride in some way?” Simon pulls off his sunglasses and—oh Lord. Forest-green eyes assess me in a quick sweep. I don’t think I’ve seen a prettier set of eyes on a man before. Except they are no doubt making a snap decision about me the same way I did about him.
I feel his gaze everywhere.
“I’m the maid of honor.”
He smiles at me and it does funny things to my insides.
“I should have guessed.”
“What, because I’m protective of her?”
Simon moves in closer to me. “Not just her, but Pierce and Sean too.”
