Why were these people harassing her like this?
Something snapped deep in her chest. Her eyes raised in anger as they shot from the ground to the crowd, taking in all the curious faces. She inhaled deeply, preparing to scream for them to leave her alone, but her voice faltered.
What would they do to her when she refused to talk?
Would Chelsea or her sisters come looking for her? Surely, someone would. Right?
Hopefully?
Maybe?
She searched the many faces, hoping to see her best friend. She’d be thrilled to see Faith, too. This was one time when she could use her sister’s attitude. Faith would tell all of these persistent people to go to hell. Maybe even punch a couple of them if they didn’t leave her alone. But where was Faith when Heaven needed her?
This was too much.
Heaven took a step back. She stalled. The hot paint burned her skin as she jerked away from Chelsea’s car. Could she manage to open the door and slip inside before these bottom feeders swallowed her? It was looking more and more like her only option.
Then another face appeared in the crowd.
He was there.
She felt a twinge in her stomach. Maybe it was more of a flip. Whatever the feeling, it diminished her fear. Her eyes, once flooding with tears, cleared from the emotional stress. They filled with gratitude. She wanted to smile at him, but couldn’t force her facial muscles to move.
Once he pushed through the crowd, Dylan’s eyes glided over her face, their darkness emitting sympathy and concern. It was only a second later he was standing in front of her; his hand closing gently around her upper arm.
“Are you okay?”
His words tickled her cheek. The scent of cloves filled her nose, calming the stress that possessed her body. What was it about him that pulled at the pit of her stomach? Left her wanting him close. Needing him close.
His presence…her safe house.
“I…I’m okay. I think,” she stammered.
“Relax,” he said in a voice as gentle as the breeze blowing around them. “I’ve got this. I’m used to dealing with them.”
When he smiled, her knees wanted to buckle. Yet, if she fell, she had the sense that he’d catch her. Everything was going to be all right. His dark eyes said as much.
Wow.
His eyes were dark. Really dark
Like…an espresso…
* * *
Dylan hesitated. When Heaven looked at him with those eyes, time and reason ceased to exist. Her eyes had a way of transporting him to another place. Another world.
He wanted to tell her everything. That he’d dreamed of her for months. Perhaps longer. That she was all he’d thought of. That just standing next to her had his mind jumbled.
Now was not the time. She was frightened. He’d known from the minute he’d stepped outside the church and panic had ripped through him.
Were they connected? They had to be. How else could he have felt her fear? Or even dreamed of her before they met?
He wanted to save her from any opposing threat, including the paparazzi. They could harass him all they wanted. But not her. She was off limits. The best way to get the focus off her was to offer himself in exchange.
That was a fair enough trade.
He turned around to face the cameras and reporters, blocking her body between himself and Chelsea’s car.
He could feel the heat of her body radiating. She was so warm…
Not that he needed heat on a day like this. With the sun so hot you could roast a marshmallow on your forehead. What he enjoyed about the warmth of her body was knowing she was there, behind him.
That she was real.
“Look! It’s Dylan McBride,” a female reporter shouted.
Perfect.
It worked. His plan, that is. All the attention diverted from Heaven and went to him. He took in the different voices traveling his way, making out a question or two as they hurdled toward him.
“Mr. McBride, can you tell us why you’re at this church?”
“We’ve heard reports that Kyle Winters and Chelsea McConnell are getting married. Is this true?”
“Have you started dating yet?”
“Who is the mystery girl you’re hiding behind your back?”
“Are you secretly dating this young woman?”
“Are you the one getting married?”
Dylan fought the urge to laugh. Some questions were repeats. But not the ones regarding Heaven. If only he could confirm the speculations. This would be one time he’d gladly talk to the press.
Raising his hands to his waist, he motioned for the crowd to settle down.
Showtime.
“You all have questions that I’m not at liberty to discuss,” he paused as the crowd broke into another uproar.
Savages.
“Excuse me,” he shouted. “I think you’ve harassed my friend and me for long enough. Please respect our wishes and allow us some privacy. What you have rudely interrupted is a simple prayer group. Unless praying has been outlawed recently, you have no story to report.”
Only a few reporters tried to continue with their questions, but Dylan didn’t stay to listen. He hooked his arm into Heaven’s and escorted her toward the church, leaving the reporters to follow behind.
The clicking of cameras continued as Dylan quickened his step. He glanced over at Heaven, making sure she wasn’t having any problem keeping up.
She wasn’t. Her face, devoid of expression, didn’t show what he could sense. Her urgency to get inside. He couldn’t blame her. The paparazzi devoured people like Heaven for lunch like a basket of wings. Her inexperience was hot sauce on their grubby little fingers.
When they reached the side door, Dylan jerked it open and pushed Heaven inside before joining her. As he fiddled with the doorknob, her heavy breathing pulled at him. She’d put up a good front on their way to the church, but she was as scared as she’d been the moment he’d found her in the middle of the reporters.
He checked the door one last time, making sure it was secure before turning to face Heaven. She was looking down the hallway toward the staircase that led to the sanctuary.
Was she ready to get away from him?
Maybe that’s what he sensed. This uneasiness churning inside her. Had his gawking when they first met left an unfavorable impression? Could he convince her that he wasn’t some stalker watching her every move? That she enamored him to the point that he couldn’t focus on anything else?
Her brows gathered, lips twitched, as if something had caught her attention. He wanted those bright eyes staring into his. Not down the hall.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I think so,” she whispered, letting a sigh trickle from her lips. She finally turned toward him, but not before checking the hallway once more. “That was…scary. They came from out of nowhere.”
“That’s how the press operates. Someone tipped them off that we were here.”
He paused as air from the vent above them blew her hair. When a strand caught on her eyelash, Dylan brushed it out of the way, tucking it behind her ear. Her warm skin teased the tips of his fingers. Silky. Just like he remembered.
He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked. The words played on his lips, but a noise to their right broke the daze.
A flash blinded him.
When his eyes refocused, he stepped in front of Heaven and glared at the lens pointing at them.
“What are you doing here?”
“Relax, Mr. McBride. I’m not here to spin a story. My name is Sid Baker. I work for Truth Newspaper, and that is all I am after—the truth.”
Was he kidding?
This guy needed to change his sales pitch because Dylan wasn’t buying his bullshit.
“You guys wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the ass.”
Dylan’s chest puffed like a rooster ready to defend what was his. As far as he was concerned, Heaven was his and he would be damned if any reporter
took advantage of her, again.
“I beg to disagree, Mr. McBride. May I call you Dylan?”
“Would it matter if I said no?”
Sid’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “Yes, it would matter.”
Dylan snorted. He shook the hair from his face. “You’d be the first reporter I’ve ever met who felt like that.”
“Most reporters don’t care about what they are reporting. They’re out for a story, and the juicer it is, the more money they make.”
“I bet,” Dylan grumbled in agreement, folding his arms in front of his chest.
At least the reporter couldn’t get any more shots of Heaven. She was hiding behind him. Or so he thought until she tilted her head to peer around him.
Either she was getting braver or wanted the attention.
Probably the former.
Dylan hoped.
“I’m not worried about the money,” Sid continued. His eyes lacked the aggression of his comrades outside, and he wasn’t bombarding them with questions.
Still, he was a reporter, and from Dylan’s experience, that meant one thing. They followed the story and went after it like an owl hunting a mouse.
“I know what you’re thinking, Dylan, but I assure you, I’m harmless. I went into journalism to get the real story, no matter how exciting or boring it might be. I’d like to truthfully tell your story.”
Harmless? If that were true, why was he hiding in the basement of a church, snapping pictures of unsuspecting people?
Dylan prayed he hadn’t found the bridal party. Kyle would be pissed if Chelsea didn’t get her wish—to have this wedding without the paparazzi getting involved.
While years of experience cautioned him, Heaven’s state of mind was his biggest concern. He glanced back at her, wondering if she had gone back to hiding or if she was still peeking at the reporter.
Her eyes rose to meet his. The corners of her mouth twitched until they turned upward.
Talk about distracting.
His eyes darted back to Sid. He hoped the reporter didn’t have his camera raised, trying to catch the moment on film. But to Dylan’s relief, or rather disbelief, Sid was only smiling.
Taking a step back, Dylan remained at Heaven’s side, though she was now in full view of the reporter. He’d give Sid one chance to prove he wasn’t as sleazy as the group outside. If Sid gave any indication of snapping a photo of Heaven…
“Look,” Dylan began as he cleared the roughness in his tone. “I’d like to help you out with a story, but this isn’t my story to tell.”
Sid’s eyes flashed to Heaven and then flickered to Dylan’s face as he said, “I’m not after the story I originally came here for. I want the story on you,” he paused, his eyes bolting in Heaven’s direction, again, “and her.”
A surge of heat spread from Dylan’s head, down to his arms and fingers, like a bolt of lightning had struck him. Were his intentions toward Heaven that obvious, or was Sid that good at reading people?
Not that the answer mattered. He’d deny an accusation in front of the press. For Heaven’s benefit.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”
Dylan surprised himself with how clear and crisp his voice sounded, even though his insides shook.
“I mean the story about you and your girlfriend.” Sid smiled at Heaven before focusing his gaze back on Dylan. “People were starting to question your sexual preference.”
What the hell…
“If there was a question about it, maybe you should have asked my fans.”
Okay. Not his best retort. Now Heaven would think he was some man whore like Layne.
Jesus, could this be going any more wrong?
“Well, thank you for ending the speculation,” Sid chuckled, stealing a glance in Heaven’s direction. “It was an honest mistake. You haven’t dated since—”
“Yeah, I get your point,” Dylan snapped, cutting Sid’s response short. If their conversation kept going this way, Heaven would think his interest in her stemmed from either desperation or an attempt to add another notch in his belt.
“Very well, then,” Sid said, digging a pen and notepad from the bag slung over his shoulder. “We can move on to the good stuff—you and your gal. How long have you been together?”
“What?” Dylan and Heaven said in unison.
“Am I not speaking the right language? I know I’m from a different generation, but…” Sid stopped and leaned forward. Looking as though he were thinking twice about continuing, he finally did. “The hottie standing beside you … she is your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
Dylan’s eyes shot to Heaven. Were his eyes as wide as hers were?
He wished he could answer Sid’s question with a yes, but he couldn’t.
At least, not yet.
He shifted his eyes from Heaven and faced the reporter. “No comment.”
“Come on!” Sid laughed. “You can’t hide it from me, and you won’t be able to hide it from anyone else for long.”
“What makes you say that?” Dylan asked. His ears began ringing.
Sid’s lips radiated with a grin, his eyes dancing with laughter. “It’s the way you look at her…you are crazy about her.”
Christ.
Hiding his attraction to Heaven would be a lot harder than he thought.
Dylan's body warmed as he gave Heaven a sideways glance. Her eyes drifted from Sid’s, to the ground, and then up to his.
The brief moment dragged on like a presidential speech.
What was going through Heaven’s mind? Questions floated around in her eyes. Though Dylan knew the truth of Sid’s words, Heaven didn’t. He couldn’t let the truth come out under these circumstances.
His eyes veered back to Sid as he shook his head.
“Sorry, dude. You’ve got your wires crossed. She and I met less than an hour ago. And we need to get back to our, um, prayer group. Excuse us,” he told him before turning toward the door. He took a step before glancing back at Sid.
“The exit is this way.”
Sid replaced the pad and pen in his bag before nodding his head at Heaven.
“Good day, Miss,” he told her before hurrying to the exit.
Dylan cracked the door and then slammed it back. He waited until Sid looked at him. “If those pictures see the light of day, you’re going to have me to deal with. You don’t want that.”
Sid gave a tight nod as Dylan reopened the door. A few flashes lit up the entrance as the remaining paparazzi tried to find their story.
God, they were merciless.
Once Dylan rechecked the lock, he made his way back to Heaven. Unable to look her in the eyes, his eyes bore holes into the tile.
Time for some damage control.
“Think I should check and see if there are any more reporters lurking in the dark?”
The sweet sound of Heaven’s laugh echoed in his ears. Long locks shimmied around her face as she shook her head. “I think we’re safe. Finally. That was, um, insane. Do you deal with reporters like him all the time?”
“Pretty much. You get used to it after awhile.”
“And I thought the reporter at the bridal shop was pushy.”
An ambush of reporters in one day? He laughed to himself. Heaven needed a bodyguard. Especially if she got involved with him.
Then again, the thought of another man protecting her had him clenching his jaw.
He’d protect her himself. But would she allow him?
While Dylan soaked in every detail of her face, Heaven’s eyes dropped to the ground. An awkward moment of silence had her fidgeting.
Her nervousness was back. Dylan felt it poking his skin.
“I’m sorry that he was badgering you about being in a relationship with me,” she said, as she ran her fingers over the hem of her skirt.
He struggled to find his voice. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “Don’t apologize. I should be apologizing for putting you into this situation. He will try to find out m
ore info on you.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her eyes rising to meet his. His chest caught when he realized how close they were standing. Close enough to lean in for a kiss on those full lips his eyes kept drifting to. “Really. I don’t think he’ll waste his time on me. You are an important person. I’m no one special.”
His heart slowed to a steady beat. Didn’t she realize how wrong she was?
“You’re wrong. You’re someone special, too.” His voice thickened. “I’m sure you are important to a bunch of people. You’re so beautiful. You probably have guys dreaming of you.”
Like him.
Heaven’s chuckle lightened his mood, as did her rosy cheeks. “I don’t think anyone is dreaming of me, but thank you for such a sweet compliment.”
“I’m only saying what is obvious. I think you turned every head in the room when we met earlier.”
“Wow! Thanks. I’m very flattered that you think so.”
Her laugh eased the longing coursing through his body.
As their eyes met once more, Heaven’s smile faded, though her eyes twinkled under the fluorescent lights.
But the silence grew awkward.
“We'd better get back inside,” she finally said. “I’m surprised Chelsea hasn’t sent a search party for us.”
She took a step back and turned toward the hall.
Dylan fell in step close behind. “I was supposed to be your search party.”
“Oh!” she snickered as they grew closer to the sanctuary. “Then we are both in trouble.”
* * *
Heaven wished someone would pinch her. Not only had she just faced a mob of reporters, but her knight in shining armor was a celebrity.
A very sexy celebrity.
Of all the luck.
She paused in the doorway to the sanctuary, her eyes landing on Chelsea as she watched her best friend chatting with her sisters.
How was Chelsea doing it? Marrying into a celebrity lifestyle? Heaven couldn’t think of a more depressing life, except maybe being on death row. At the top of the list.
At least Chelsea could handle attention. But to be in the spotlight all the time. To lose your privacy. To be constantly looking over your shoulder, ready to run from the press. It wasn’t a life Heaven wanted for herself. Or her best friend.