Iron Willed Warrior (Last Refuge Protectors #5)

15. Brynn

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Brynn

In the restaurant, Westwick had reserved a long table in a private dining room. Molly and her husband were here, plus the handful of other seminar guests who’d arrived today. Westwick sat at the head of the table, and the rest of us gathered around. His bodyguards were nowhere in sight, but I had to expect they were skulking around somewhere close.

“You should have your arm around me,” I whispered to Cole. With a huff, he obliged. The weight of his arm settled on my shoulders, and his fingers gripped my upper arm.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. The first smile I’d seen from him all evening. Thankfully, Molly was talking loudly enough on my other side to drown out my comments to Cole.

Through drinks and appetizers, I asked Westwick questions about his background and investments. Of course, I already knew all the answers from River’s research and my preparations. The other seminar guests kept things going from there, and Westwick seemed pleased to be surrounded by admirers. He went on and on about research and development. Emerging technologies. The importance of taking on risky opportunities.

Only Cole was quiet, giving off grumpy vibes beside me and barely joining in the conversation. Which was on point for Cameron Clay. But I pretended to be fascinated. The whole time, Westwick gave me plenty of attention, his eyes always returning to mine.

After we’d finished dinner and the plates were cleared, someone proposed going to the lounge for more drinks and dancing. I leaned over to Molly and gave her my most dazzling smile. “Are you coming too?”

“I could be convinced.”

“You have to.” I looked over at Westwick. “What about our host? You’re not going to miss dancing, are you?”

Cole coughed. Yeah, I knew what he was thinking. I was giving myself a toothache with all this sugary sweetness. It was so not me.

But thankfully, the head of Stillwater was eating it up. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” Westwick said. “And please, Brianna, call me Garon.”

Cole’s hand tightened possessively on my shoulder.

The lounge had the vibe of an old-school jazz club, with brown leather chairs and low lighting. Our group had winnowed to a half dozen. We started with a round of brandy, which gave me plenty of opportunities to ask Westwick about the liquor and where it came from. A man like him loved nothing more than to prove how sophisticated and intelligent he was. Cole and I both took tiny sips so we’d stay sober.

I couldn’t have asked for a better setup. Alcohol to loosen Westwick up, and dancing to get close. A chance to talk alone even in a crowded room.

Ryker and the other bodyguard, Manning, had appeared, sitting like lumps in boxy suits at another table, but that was fine. Cole was in the seat next to me, his thigh up against mine.

I just had to be patient. Wait for Westwick to ask to dance with me. I’d baited the hook earlier. Now I had to reel him in.

But then, shockingly, Cole beat him to it.

He held out his hand. “Feel like dancing?”

I paused a moment before realizing what he had in mind. Stoking Westwick’s competitiveness. “Love to.” I took Cole’s hand. Westwick’s eyes followed me as I left. I didn’t see it so much as feel it.

We walked over to the small dance floor where a few couples were swaying to the jazz singer crooning from a small stage. Cole’s hands rested on my hips. Steady and firm. I laced my fingers together behind his neck.

“Good idea,” I said. “Reminding Westwick I’m taken.”

“Figured I could be useful. Even if I still hate this idea.”

“It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Cole hummed. Whether he was skeptical or agreeing, I couldn’t tell. His fingers tapped lightly against my lower back along with the beat.

This was the first time we’d been pressed up against each other like this, chest to chest and belly to belly, since the night we’d kissed. It felt nice. More than nice.

I let the music sink into me. The warmth of Cole’s embrace.

I noticed more couples joining us. Westwick was dancing with Molly just a few feet away, yet they seemed farther than that. Like Cole and I were inside our own bubble. It was tempting to forget where we were. Like Cole kept pulling me to some other place where Stillwater didn’t exist and I could simply enjoy the moment without fear of what came next. How did he do that? And why did I keep responding this way ?

I brushed my fingers down the back of Cole’s neck, and he made a sound too low for anyone to hear but me.

The song ended way too soon, and a shadow fell over me. “Mind if I cut in?” Westwick asked. “More fun if we all change up partners, don’t you think?”

Alertness filled me, chasing away the brief calm I’d felt. Cole and I shared a lightning-fast, silent communication.

“I don’t think so, no,” Cole said dismissively.

“Please Cameron?” I turned my widest eyes on him. “You said you were tired of dancing anyway. You wanted to get a drink, right?”

His hands briefly tightened on my waist before he let go. “One dance.” With a scowl at Westwick, Cole stalked toward the bar. But Westwick just smiled as he watched Cole leave.

“I don’t think Cameron is a fan of mine.”

“I’m sorry. He just…doesn’t like me talking to other men sometimes.” I smiled shyly.

“I’m not causing a problem for you, am I?”

“No, it’s okay. Cam will get over it. He usually does.”

Westwick’s touch on my waist was a stark contrast to Cole’s. Cold and clammy through my dress instead of warm. I rested my hands on the man’s shoulders. Swayed with the music. All the time wishing I had a knife I could stick in his back.

But the long strap of my purse rested against my torso, a reminder of what was inside. That virus was all the revenge we needed.

“Cameron is your manager, correct?” he asked. “How long has he represented you?”

“For about a year.” I repeated a few details of how Brianna and Cameron had met, how she’d fallen for him. “He’s been good to me.”

“I’m sure. But did Cameron actually want to attend this seminar with you? Or was it your idea?” He angled his head toward me like we were sharing a secret.

“I guess it was mine.”

“He doesn’t seem all that happy to be here.”

“He helped me take my business to the next level. Make more contacts in the industry. But…” I pretended to hesitate.

“Yes?”

“Never mind. I should be grateful for everything he’s done for me.”

We rotated in a slow circle to the music, and Cole came into view. He was leaning back against the bar, arms crossed as he watched us. Westwick moved his grip from my waist to my lower hips. Keep going, asshole , I thought. I dare you .

On the other side of the room, Ryker and Manning hunched together at a table, watching us too.

“You know, Brianna, you can’t allow another person to hold you back from what you want.”

“That’s why I wanted to attend your seminar. I follow a lot of entrepreneurs online, study their advice, but yours resonated with me.”

“Really.” His focus on me sharpened. “You know, this afternoon I took a look at your Instagram account. You’ve built a nice little following. Your lifestyle brand could go far. But you have to consider your future. Is Cameron the best manager to achieve your goals?”

I tried to look guilty. “I’m not sure.”

“We could meet up to discuss options, but it would have to be without your current manager. Cameron is likely to discourage you from changing anything. Especially if it would diminish his control over your career.”

There we go , I thought. Was the man truly this easy ?

I thought of Cole’s worry—that we were walking into a trap. That Westwick and Ryker already knew our real identities .

“You think he’s trying to control me?” I asked.

“Something as beautiful as you?” Westwick purred into my ear. “What man wouldn’t want to own that?”

It took all my willpower not to push him away. Or better yet, pull him closer and squeeze him by the jugular. Remember the mission , I told myself. It’ll be worth it when we destroy him. But my defiant heart just couldn’t let that pass. Without thinking, I asked, “Are you saying you want to own me? Shouldn’t a person get to be in control of her own career? Her own life?” A hint of genuine anger had sneaked into my tone.

Thankfully, he laughed. “I like you, Brianna. You’re feistier than I imagined you were.”

I smiled and shrugged. As if I’d been teasing him.

His long fingers massaged circles into my hip, just over my behind. “I think we’d get along very well together. Very well. If you can get time away from your overbearing manager this weekend, then we can talk business. See what we can do for each other.”

“I’ll…” Fighting back my disgust, I finished my sentence. “Think about it, Mr. Westwick.”

“I’m sure you will. And you’d better call me Garon.” His phone made a noise. Westwick took it from his inner blazer pocket to look at it. He frowned. I tried to get a glimpse of the screen, but he kept it covered. “I’m sorry, Brianna. Forgive me for being rude, but I’d better take this.”

“Oh? Is it important?”

“The kind of thing that can’t wait.” With a wink that he probably thought was charming, he walked toward the exit. He waved at his bodyguards, signaling that he didn’t need them.

Cole was still watching me, but I went casually toward the restrooms.

As soon as I was in the hallway, out of sight of Westwick’s security, I jogged past the bathrooms and went through the door at the opposite end, which led back to the lobby. I wanted to know who had called Westwick. What was so important that he had to deal with it right now?

Did it have something to do with his decision to move up his arrival?

I heard Westwick’s voice just around the corner. “When exactly will you get here tomorrow?” Then a pause while he listened to the answer. “No problem. Of course. But?—”

The rest of what he was saying faded out as he moved. Westwick was walking away. I heard his footsteps receding. Edging forward, I peered around the corner. But the man was gone.

“Can I help you, Ms. Waverley?”

I spun around and found the clerk who had checked us into the reception earlier. Lance, the one who’d been ogling my cleavage. I smiled. “I was just looking for my boyfriend Cameron. He wandered off.”

I hoped Lance didn’t realize that Cole and the others were in the lounge. Or that I’d been spying on Garon Westwick.

He eyed me, but I couldn’t tell if it was skepticism or interest. “Have you tried your room? I haven’t seen him pass by.”

I brightened. “Of course. Silly me. Have a good night.”

I took off before he could ask any more questions.

The hallway was deserted as I walked toward the guest rooms. A few voices murmured behind closed doors. I listened for Westwick, unsure which room was his.

I thought I could hear his baritone.

I came to a stop, pressing my ear against that room. But there was nothing. Dang it. I’d been hoping to hear more of Westwick’s conversation. He was expecting someone tomorrow, someone important , which could explain his early arrival. Did it have something to do with Stillwater ?

I had to get back to the lounge and find Cole. Let him know what I’d learned.

But when I turned, I nearly ran into a wall of muscle. “Just what are you doing there, Ms. Waverley?” Donovan Ryker asked. “Because it looked like you were listening at Mr. Westwick’s door.”

Shit. How had I failed to hear the man approach? Because he ’ s a trained mercenary , I answered myself.

Time to bluff. And above all, stay calm. “He left the lounge to take a phone call. I was just hoping to catch him. Continue our conversation. But it’s fine, I can wait.” I tried to walk around the man, but he grabbed my upper arm.

“Ow, let go of me!”

“What’s your interest in Mr. Westwick?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s very much my business who gets close to my boss.” Ryker pushed me up against the wall hard enough my head smacked the drywall. I could’ve fought back with equal force and then some. But Brianna Waverley didn’t have training in hand-to-hand combat. If I used any of my skills, it would blow my cover.

Ryker opened his mouth to say something else. Then he suddenly wrenched away from me. Cole slammed the man into the opposite wall of the hallway, his teeth gritted in a snarl.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

Lance, the hotel clerk, appeared at the end of the hallway. “What’s going on here?”

Ryker took a menacing step toward Cole, who didn’t back down. “This piece of shit attacked my girlfriend.”

I reached for Cole’s arm. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

“It was,” Ryker said, a warning in his voice. “And I trust it won’t happen again.” With a last glare in my direction, he stalked toward the lobby .

“Do I need to call the authorities?” The clerk’s tone conveyed that was the last thing he wanted to do, and he visibly relaxed when I shook my head. Doors started to open up and down the hall, heads peeking out to see what was happening.

“No. We’re going to our room.” I pulled Cole down the hall. I had to get us both out of there before we did something stupid. Like following Ryker and continuing that fight, because one thing was certain—it wasn’t over.