My heart is like a jackhammer as the guard approaches my side of the car. “Hand me the cake box,” I hiss as I lower my window.
I snatch the box off Killian and lift it up for the guard to see. “I got the replacement cake!” I announce, offering my most dazzling smile. I tip my head to Killian while simultaneously blocking the guard’s view with the box. “And I brought the idiot who messed up the first one. If the replacement sucks, I can stand back while Katarina kills the man responsible for ruining her birthday.”
The guard laughs. “She would too.”
And then he waves us on.
I hurl the cake back onto Killian’s lap and put my foot on the gas. As awful as that was, it’s not going to be the hardest challenge I face. “OK, we need a plan,” I say before Killian can launch into another anecdote about his family. “You’re only here to see Katarina, right?”
Killian doesn’t hide his amusement at my pitiful attempt to wrestle some control over the situation. “I am,” he says with a wide grin.
“And if you’re going to spend any quality time with her,then it’s imperative that you don’t draw attention to yourself. If I can trust you to follow my orders, I’ll get you your time alone with her.”
“Sure.”
His agreement comes far too easily. “And obviously, I’ll need to let Duke know you’re here.”
“Anything you say, Gracie.”
I stop the car and a valet approaches. “When we get out, don’t go wandering off. Follow me and don’t speak to anyone.”
Snatching up the cake box, I march towards the marquee in the hope of finding someone I can trust to get a message to Duke. I don’t check behind me to see if Killian follows. The hairs on the back of my neck confirm he’s right behind me, breathing down my neck.
Ed is the first friendly face I see. “Shit’s about to hit the fan,” I say quickly. “Don’t look and don’t make it obvious, but the hairdresser is standing behind me.”
“The hair…?” He gives a start and almost spills his day-glow orange cocktail down the front of his white tux. “Katarina’sboyfriendis here?”
Thankfully, the thrum of music from inside the tent muffles his voice, but I shush him anyway.
Killian presses against my back. “Do you know, I’ve never been called her boyfriend before but I could get used to it.” He rests a hand on my hip. “Kitty might have something to say about it though.”
“If she can get a word in,” I mutter, momentarily forgetting the man I’m joking with is in the mafia and has already threatened me at gunpoint.
There’s no doubting Killian has charisma by the bucket load, and his accent does a lot of the heavy lifting. He picked it up when he was sent to school in Ireland, onlyreturning to Las Vegas when teenage Killian developed a rebellious streak that his father soon kicked out of him. I can’t believe I know so much about him.
“What can I say? I have the gift of the gab.”
“Oh, fuck,” Ed whispers. “You’re Irish.”
His grip on his glass slackens and his cocktail splashes at our feet. “Yes, he’sexactlythat,” I confirm. Deciding Ed needs to know how critical the situation is, I add, “No one can know he’s here. The Bratva have been holding Fitz hostage and they’re meant to be returning him tonight.”
Ed reels from yet another shock to the system. “They’ve been blackmailing Duke?”
“Not for much longer as long as our friend here doesn’t cause trouble. You need to let Duke know he’s here.”
Ed tips his head in the direction of the house. “I’m guessing he knows already.”
I turn to find four silhouettes on the terrace, watching us intently. The tallest and broadest is the one that holds my attention. Duke is going to have to stay calm if we’re to keep Killian’s presence a secret. “If I were you, Mr. Hairdresser, I’d take your hand off my hip and back off.”
“His hands have been on my woman often enough,” Killian growls, but he steps away.
As the little group on the terrace continue to watch us, I realize they’re not alone. One of Katarina’s bodyguards is prowling further along the terrace, and the other is climbing the steps. He’s the one most likely to follow their gaze to me and my unexpected guest.
“Ed, tell Duke we’ll be in the catering tent,” I say, lifting the cake. “Tell him we need a plan to give our extra guest some alone time with Katarina, and then he’ll leave quietly.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” mumbles Killian.
I turn to him. “Do you agree?”
