Tori smiled, something serene and professional. "First, I've never stolen any woman's man. Callum was perfectly single when we began our relationship. Second, my sister has never teased me more than the night of my wardrobe malfunction. In turn, I teased her about greeting the press wearing nothing but her husband's shirt the day after her marriage. What can I say? We're not debutantes but strong women who've faced a lot of adversities in life. I can safely say that, given the amount of turmoil in the world, my right breast having its own Twitter feed is of no consequence. I promise to wear more sensible shoes in the future. Obviously, I'm not suited to wear five-inch heels."
"With regard to our private lives, we intend to keep the details to ourselves," Rory said, his hand at her back, providing support.
Callum had been good at dealing with these vultures once. He could do it again.
"I believe someone asked if none of us could find our own women." He stepped up on the other side of Tori. "The truth is, we don't want other women. This one is more than enough for the three of us. We intend to marry in the Bezakistani fashion of our fiancée's sister and our cousins. Expect a statement from the palace no later than tomorrow. We thank you all for taking such kind interest in our lives and now ask for privacy while we follow the traditional month of bonding before our wedding."
Tori gave him an encouraging smile, but his gaze snagged on a man in black who stepped out from behind one of the massive oak trees that dotted the property. Callum looked up in horror as the stranger drew a gun and began to shoot.
He threw himself in front of Tori and felt a bullet tear through the flesh of his arm. He heard a scream, then the world faded away.
* * * *
Rory paced as the local magistrate prepared to leave. "So you have nothing on this man?"
The magistrate shrugged. "No. Our working theory is he was making a statement against the royal family. We've been in touch with the sheikh and he says that threats against them have risen since the country started taking in refugees. Unfortunately your … Ms. Glen is an easy target. You're very lucky your brother is so quick on his feet or she would be dead."
"You're absolutely sure she was the target?" Oliver asked, his stare straying toward the back of the house where Callum now rested after the doctor had treated him. Thankfully, the bullet had clipped Callum's left arm rather than hitting anything vital. The wound had barely required two stitches and some painkillers.
Since then, Tori had refused to leave his side. After she'd cried, she seemed to distance herself. Rory didn't like the blank look on her face. Yes, she sat beside him, holding his good hand. She was kind, but she seemed as if she was running on autopilot. A loved one dying was her greatest fear, and today's attack had been a trigger, sending her back into her protective shell.
The magistrate nodded as he picked up his briefcase. "Yes. From where the man was standing, the trajectory of the bullet was straight to Ms. Glen's torso. She was his target. We'll take a look at the video footage some of the reporters took. Unfortunately, we don't have much. Many scattered when he started shooting. We're lucky he ran. Some true believers would have simply stayed and shot until she was dead. We'll have officers patrol around the grounds."
"I also have security of our own. They'll be here before dark." Rory had immediately requested a detail for the house and grounds. He had no doubt Talib would send someone tomorrow. The sheikh had been upset to say the least.
The magistrate promised to be in contact, then he headed for the door, leaving Rory alone with Oliver.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Rory asked. He couldn't get Tori's last night in London out of his mind.
"Of course. This isn't the first time. It can't be a coincidence that someone tried to attack her before she left. Now that I think about it, it might have been the same man all three times."
Rory felt his eyes widen. "Three times? Are you talking about Peckham?"
"Yes, I was about to ask the same thing." Tori stood in the doorway, her skin pale and that haunted look in her eyes. "Callum is asleep. Claire is sitting with him. I was going to ask if you thought what happened in London is connected to the shooting. Now I'd really like to know what you mean by three times."
Oliver winced and sat on the sofa. The curtains were drawn, despite the fact that sun still shined brightly. "I followed you one night."
"Creepy stalker," she said with the first hint of humor he'd seen from her since the shooting.