Their Virgin Mistress (Masters of Ménage #7)(100)

Oliver shrugged. "Perhaps, but I wasn't the only one. According to Claire, a man followed you off the bus. I jumped him in an alley when he pulled a knife."

Her eyes narrowed. "Your last 'bar fight,' I presume."

Oliver held his hands up. "The very last. I assure you I'm through with the fight club mentality. Unless I get my hands on the shooter. Then all bets are off."

Tori frowned. "So I was visiting a friend, you were following me, and Claire was following you. The creepy stalker thing must run in the family." 

Oliver leaned forward. "This feels more personal than someone with a political agenda. Besides, even with Tori's ties to the royal family, someone with an ax to grind against the Bezakistani way of life probably wouldn't have targeted her before today. I want to know where Thea's been."

"It certainly wasn't a female who shot at me today. I saw him." Tori crossed her arms over her chest.

"That doesn't mean a thing." Rory actually thought that idea made sense. "He behaved more like a hired hand than a terrorist."

"He was after me." Tori turned toward the door. "It doesn't matter why. Callum nearly died. The only plan that makes sense is me leaving."

Rory had worried she would retreat emotionally since the thug had fired the gun. He hated to be proven right. "Where would you go?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

It did. Rory crossed his arms over his chest. "Absolutely not."

Her greatest fear was loss, and Callum had nearly played out that story earlier.

Oliver frowned and agreed. "You're not going anywhere. We have security. It's going to be all right. We'll protect you."

She pursed her lips and turned toward the hall. "I'm not worried about me. I'm giving you notice now. Someone-fate, maybe-doesn't want us together. So in thirty days, I'll be leaving. No one will have to take a bullet for me again."

Rory wasn't about to let that lie. In three steps he was at her side, his hand wrapped around her arm. "That's not how it's going to go, love."

She looked at him, that blank stare nearly ripping him asunder.

"Don't look at me as if none of this matters. Everything about you matters to us, and you need to understand that. I know what happened this afternoon scared you, but Callum is fine. He's a tough one and he's going to be perfectly fresh by tomorrow. He won't even remember he's been shot."

"I'll remember," she promised.

He tried to drag her into his arms. She stood still, stiff. "Tori, Callum did what he had to do. Any one of us would have done the same."

"You shouldn't have had to do anything at all," she said, her voice flat. "This is ridiculous. I'm not married to royalty. Why would they come after me?"

She was already erecting walls again. Every time he managed to tear through the last barrier, she started building another. He had to prove to her that there was no wall that he and his brothers couldn't break down.

Rory squeezed her tight. "I don't know, but I will find out. I've got a call in to a London security agency that investigates things like this. I'm also going to put an end to the thing with Thea."

"Callum's baby mama?" Tori rolled her eyes.

Ah, there was his first hint that she wasn't as unemotional as she pretended.

"Does it bother you?"

She shrugged. "It's not my business."

Oliver stood, coming to Rory's side. "Really? You don't care who Cal has sex with?"

Those sweet lips of hers flattened into a stubborn line. "No. I can't. Can't you see this won't work? The press won't leave us alone and now someone is trying to hurt me. Callum could have been killed. Do you get that?"

Tears welled in her eyes again. She needed to cry and purge those emotions, but she held tightly to her control.

It was time to strip that from her.

Rory tangled his fingers in her hair, twisting lightly so she was forced to look into his eyes. "Cal could die on the road. Any one of us could get into an accident at any time. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. I won't allow this irrational fear of yours to come between us."



       
         
       
        

"It's not irrational," she argued. "I've seen it. It's happened to me before and now it's happening again. On top of that, someone wants me dead. Why can't you see that it's more logical to let me go? I don't want to put everyone in danger. I couldn't stand it if one of you died because of me. Please let me go, Rory. I can be back in London in a few hours, even farther away by tomorrow."

He tightened his hold, relieved when her breath hitched. He could see the way her nipples peaked under her thin shirt. She was already responding and he'd hardly touched her. Did she honestly think she could walk away from this? He knew damn well he never would.