CHAPTER 15

Melanie was red in the face, pounding her fist on the table in the council meeting, and Tristen couldn’t help but feel turned on.

Last night they’d spent the night on Nymph Island, Dot tucked away in the cottage’s loft, as he and Melanie had wrapped each other in love.

It made it difficult to pay attention to anything but her now. The way Melanie was revved up, her butt wiggling in her dress pants as she laid into the council for not following protocol and posting permit applications in a public place. For failing to have an official open house regarding the proposed resort, and other such business. This was on top of her presentation against Rubicore—which was very thorough and convincing. The council was getting a dressing down from his gal, Mel. Nothing could be sexier to witness, and Tristen had the best seat in the house.

She glanced at him over her shoulder with a wink, then beckoned a man wearing a snazzy suit to hand out sheets of paper to the row of men seated before her.

“Consider yourselves subpoenaed for breach of regulations,” the man said coolly.

Tristen sat up. Whoa. That was not part of the plan. Is this what she had been doing at the crack of dawn when he’d gone looking for her after finding her side of the bed vacant?

The subpoenas were being delivered to the council, as well as several Rubicore administrators who were seated in the audience.

Hadn’t Melanie agreed they were going to let agencies take care of Rubicore and the municipality? As a first-year lawyer one didn’t take on the big guns, who had a herd of lawyers bred for going in for the kill.

The men at the table stared, faces aghast and open with fear. Members of the press, who had been lounging against the wall, stood straight, alert, cameras clicking.

She had them.

Was this all a ploy? A tactic to get them to comply? But no, then she would have only threatened. Did she not understand what she was up against? She’d just sent a very large boulder in motion and down a very steep hill. He only hoped she wouldn’t be the one to get crushed.

Tristen moved to the back of the room so he could secretly use his cell phone, which wasn’t technically allowed in chambers. He needed Connor to get that Evander guy on both women. Now. No more thinking about it. It was go time. Especially since Daphne still wasn’t talking to Melanie, who had just pitched a flaming barrel of oil over Rubicore’s fence.

If Evander was half as good as a bodyguard as Connor said, then the man could at least tail Daphne while keeping her safe. And if the man had a brother, Tristen would hire him to sit on Melanie’s tail. She wouldn’t like it, but there was no way she was arguing with him on this one. Nothing was going to happen to his gal, and her risk factor had just multiplied like fruit flies near overripe bananas.

Tristen blinked, focusing on the men lining the back of the room. He took in their black leathers. Their headbands and gnarly beards. Arms crossed over their barrel chests. Scars and tattoos.

Holy hell. What were the Hells Angels doing here? Were they on Melanie’s side? He watched as they gave brief, approving smiles when she sass-talked a Rubicore man. Maybe she wasn’t as vulnerable as Tristen had thought. Maybe she really did have this all tied up. But why hadn’t she told him she was going to drop-kick Rubicore’s baby?

Because he would have tied her up at home until she saw sense. That’s why. Smart woman. She’d warned him she’d do it his way, and if she had time, also do it her way. Looked as though he needed to keep her busier.

He sat beside Gnarly Beard, hoping he hadn’t come off as too big of a prissy prick during their prior meetings, and that the biker would agree to a favor in Melanie’s honor. Tristen needed as many people as he could round up to cover her sweetly shaped butt.

“Can you keep her safe?” he asked Ezra.

The biker narrowed his eyes as if trying to read him.

“Can you?” Tristen repeated. He knew he looked scared, but he didn’t care. “She can’t do this alone. I’m helping her, and I’ll do whatever I have to do. But I only know the business side. I need to have someone keep her physically safe. Can you help?”

Without a word, the man gave a tiny nod, then turned back to listen to Melanie give the corporate scum dogs hell.

* * *

“I think you definitely found your place, Melanie.” Tristen shook his head and pressed a kiss against her temple, leaning against his old truck. “This has certainly cranked the heat under Rubicore.”

They were so screwed, but he’d promised to back her and he would. This time he wasn’t going anywhere. He would use every last resource at his disposal to help keep her safe—to ensure she was the one who came out on top in this battle.

He’d beaten Rubicore before and together they’d do it again.

Several men in black leather loitered nearby, chatting as they leaned against the parking lot’s brick wall. Watching. Waiting. Listening. They has his woman’s back.

Melanie was vibrating from taking on chambers, and he ran his hands up and down her arms. There was no way he was letting her get back on her motorbike in the state she was in. She’d drive right off the road and into the towering pines surrounding this part of town before she got more than a block or two away.

“You know what Valos means in Finnish?” she asked.

“You know Finnish?”

“It means cast. He’s empty. That man could be filled with anything and right now he’s filled with deceit and lies and everything that is wrong with this world.”

She was punctuating her sentences with pokes to Tristen’s chest. He wrapped a hand around hers, stilling the jabbing finger.

“It’s going to be okay. You’ll get him. You just turned it all upside down and gave it a shake. I’d be surprised if any of those goofs are still in politics six months from today, or that Rubicore is still in business. You’re making a name for yourself and standing up for what you feel is right, despite the odds. I admire that. Not everyone can do it.”

She let out a shaky laugh and he gave her a hug, feeling incredibly proud.

“It’s called being insecure,” she said. “You think about others and what they are thinking and needing so you don’t have to think about yourself.”

“I don’t believe that’s the reason. Besides, you seem pretty confident and secure to me.”

“It’s an act.” Her voice was shaky, her cheeks flushed.

“Well, there’s no reason to act that way, Little Miss Dynamo. Not that you need taking care of, but I’ll spend the rest of my days doing so, if you’ll let me. And I’ll show you in every way I can that you are important to me. Do you understand that? No matter what happens with Rubicore, the council, and the press. Okay?”

She snuggled her head against his chest. “I know you care. I care about you, too.”

“I know your mind is still in chambers, but I need you to hear this, Mel. Sometimes I have trouble expressing myself, and I need you to talk to me, even when things get hairy and I go a little berserk after attackers.”

She glanced up, her eyes worried. “What do you mean?”

“I need you…” He had to pause to collect himself, since his heart was racing. “…to not run away or kick me out. If you don’t feel loved, then tell me, okay? And I’ll try to do better.”

“I don’t think you would ever fail at showing me your love, Tristen.” She took a step back, clenching his hands so tightly it made the one that had punched Mistral Johnson ache. Had that been only yesterday?

“Trust me, I could fail. I have before.”

“You won’t. I trust you, Tristen. You have already shown me in so many ways.”

He swept her curls from her shoulders. He’d pulled her back into bed that morning and she hadn’t had the time to do it up. “Do you really trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then trust me when I tell you you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes glimmered with tears and her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

“Trust the fact—even if I never say it again—that you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and that you always will be.”

She let out a self-conscious laugh and bit her bottom lip. He ran his thumb over the pinched flesh, tugging it out from her teeth’s grip. “Trust me?”

Finally she nodded, a blush spreading across her pale cheeks.

“I love you, Mel.”

This time he would do it right.

* * *

Melanie felt as though her heart was going to explode into flowers and rainbows from all the love she felt inside. She’d just totally busted some balls in chambers and Tristen was all over her like she was the sexiest thing in the world.

His world.

And his world was a world she wanted to live in for the rest of her life.

Nothing could feel better. He’d called her beautiful and meant it. But most importantly, she believed it. He didn’t think she was a Sasquatch and he was man enough to handle her splendor and size.

When he told her she had a place, was important, beautiful, and loved, she felt it. Believed it. Trusted it.

He was one-of-a-kind. And hers. All hers.

She felt a rush of adrenaline as a crazy idea flipped through her mind. She could propose. Right here in the parking lot where people were walking to their cars, murmuring to each other about her little showdown. It felt as though she’d just kicked a hornets’ nest and her life was finally going to go on that big ride she’d always wanted to take. So why not have her love life take off on that ride, too? She didn’t want anyone else by her side as she took on Rubicore and the municipality. At night. In the morning.

Him. Only him.

Tristen was the man who could be by her side through it all, helping her. Not taking over, but trusting her to make her own moves, and clearing obstacles when she needed help. Because of him she knew what path she needed to take in order to save Muskoka. Plus with the tax break he had assisted in wrangling, her sisters had decided that would count toward Melanie’s portion of the debt.

She’d done it. She’d finally contributed to the cottage. And it was all due to the wonderful man in her arms.

“I love you, Tristen.” She squinted against the gorgeous August sun. She loved the way the light picked up the highlights in his short hair. He was handsome. Strong. Supportive. Everything she never believed she could ever have.

He bent his head to meet hers, kissing her in a way that had her arms wrapping around him and her legs wishing they could do the same.

“You don’t know who you are messing with!” shouted an angry voice.

A breeze picked up and Melanie kept kissing Tristen, not wanting to break the moment, not wanting to be distracted or to find a way to chicken out on asking him to be hers forever.

The shouter repeated himself, closer this time. The clinking of chains and the sound of heeled boots crunched on the gravel. Tristen had her out of his arms and pinned behind him in an instant.

From there, she couldn’t see the man yelling at them. Ezra and Kane eased up beside her, their friends flanking them. She scooted to Tristen’s side, frustrated by how he kept trying to hold her back.

If they were calling her out, it was her battle, and she wanted to see who she was dealing with.

“You don’t know who you have messed with, Melanie Summer.”

It was Mistral Johnson, his face black-and-blue from Tristen’s punch. His cronies were lined up in their spiffy suits and pointed, polished shoes, ready to do his dirty work.

“And vice versa!” she cried. Tristen hushed her with a low voice, as though trying to calm a spooked animal, but she added, “You can’t just walk over people and the planet because you have more money.”

“You’re on the wrong side and your sister is going to pay.”

Melanie’s heart seized painfully. “Which one?” she called, her voice stronger than she felt. Inside, she wanted to hide her face in Tristen’s shirt and let him take care of it all.

“Daphne is going to pay.”

“Hey, now,” Tristen called, stepping forward, away from the row of cars behind them. “This is nothing personal, boys. Just business.”

The bikers took Tristen’s cue, stepping into a line, with Melanie blocked behind them, a united front against Toronto’s business sector.

“I think it is personal,” Mistral replied. “You’ve embarrassed us and shamed us with that stupid charity case of a camp. Slamming us in the papers. This is my chance to shine and prove that the company’s worth something and you’re over here insinuating that we burned down that crappy old cottage on Heritage Row. You’ve got all of Muskoka pissed at us for trying to bring prosperity and tourists to the area. And now this crap-case legal thing? We’re going to bury you.” He took a step nearer, body angled so he could escape Tristen’s wrath if he got too close. “You won’t think you’re so great when you go down in flames.”

“This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with fairness and proper proceedings. Laws. Bylaws.” She squeezed between Tristen and Ezra, feeling safe.

“Daphne knew I was part of Rubicore. She encouraged this, and now she’s going to pay.”

Melanie watched them take off, her breathing coming hard, as though she’d sprinted to get here. “Daphne. We have to get to Daphne before they do.”

Tristen, expression grim, shared a silent look with the surrounding bikers, and Melanie wondered what she’d gotten her family into. And whether they were going to survive it.

The End

Keep reading to find out what happens next with Daphne and Evander in Love and Danger.