Relentless (19 page)

Early that afternoon, they pulled into White Rock with twenty minutes to spare before the ceremony started. Stepping out of the truck, Neveah pulled in a deep breath of the cold, salt-scented air.

The morning had been gray and overcast, but now the clouds were breaking up. Wide patches of cerulean sky showed through and sunbeams arrowed down toward the earth. The faint cry of gulls rose from the beach down the hillside from the church. Its gleaming white exterior sat perched amongst well manicured gardens, something the bride was sure to approve of. Shame there weren't any flowers blooming to add splashes of color to the evergreen shrubs bordering the steps.

Wrapping her black woolen shawl over her shoulders, Nev smiled at Rhys when he took her arm. He was a sight to behold in his black tux and crisp white shirt. The perfectly tailored jacket emphasized the breadth of his powerful shoulders, and the wraparound shades he wore made him look like a Secret Service agent.

“What?” he asked, sharing her smile.

“You look like a movie star with those things on.”

His eyebrows swooped together. “What kind of movie star?”

“A badass action hero.”

“Good. All the single guys will know to keep their hands off you.”

She snickered. Like they wouldn't anyhow. With the size of him? Only a suicidal maniac would even think of it. And after last night, the simple memory of the pleasure he'd given her made her belly flip.

Nev squeezed his forearm with her hand, then ran a light caress over the steely muscles beneath the sleeve. My oh my, what a beautiful man he was. And hers, for now. It made her giddy to think she'd had all those muscles pressed against her naked skin the night before. She'd run her hands over his smooth skin long after he'd tugged the covers over them both. He'd purred like a contented panther the whole time, gouging out another chunk of her heart for himself. If it wasn't entirely his already.

He might appear to the rest of the world as being impervious to pain and the very human need for companionship, but the way he'd soaked up her affection last night proved how starved he'd been for it. The thought made her ache for him and want to make up for the terrible, lonely childhood he'd suffered. She wanted to hold him in her arms and caress him for hours or even days until he felt wanted and loved. Now there was a cause she could get behind.

Her throat tightened. Loved? Yeah, she loved him. The feelings inside her were too strong to be based on infatuation and gratitude. And as for the way he felt about her, she knew actions spoke louder than words for him. Judging from that, he must care about her a lot.

Still, she had to face the fact that Rhys might not ever be able to love her the way she loved him. It was possible he might never let himself feel that deeply for anyone but his brother, whom he trusted with his life.

Assuming Rhys was even capable of having a long term, committed relationship with her, could she be happy without an “I love you"? If she was honest, no, but she still held out hope that he would feel secure enough about her to acknowledge his feelings at some point in the future.

“Bryn's already inside,” Rhys said, helping her up the concrete steps. His grip was firm but not overbearing, just enough to be able to catch her if she slipped in her high heels. The constant respect and consideration he afforded her was another thing she loved about him. One of so many, but telling him would no doubt spook the holy hell out of him. It was damn hard keeping the words inside, since she was used to telling it like it was.

For once in her life, the brain/mouth filter was working. Thank God.

An usher at the tall front door of the church opened it for them, and Rhys led her inside. A deep red carpet runner lay on the dark oak floor, leading through the foyer and into the main vestibule with its jewel-toned stained glass windows filling the room with shards of colored light.

“Oh,” she whispered, taking in the huge arrangements of stargazer lilies and raspberry pink roses surrounding the altar.

“They're in there,” Rhys said, gesturing to an office off the vestibule. “You okay with waiting here for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” Before he could leave, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. Just a quick one, nothing too embarrassing for a man completely opposed to public displays of affection, but enough to proclaim her feelings for him. His lips twitched in a quick smile when he pulled back, but he gave her hand a squeeze before turning away.

Knocking on the oak door, she pushed it open when someone invited her in. She slipped inside and smiled at Bryn, a knockout in her navy blue bridesmaid's gown with her hair swept up in an elegant twist. “Hi.”

Bryn already knew the boys were there to provide security, so all Nev had to do was keep that fact from the rest of them. Though she doubted Emily or Christa hadn't figured out there was something going on.

“Hey,” Bryn said, coming over to give her a hug. “You're just in time. We're about to put her train on.”

Rounding a partition, Neveah caught her breath at Christa decked out in her ballerina-style white gown amidst Bryn, Emily and another bridesmaid whose heavily pregnant belly protruded beneath her gown. “Wow.”

Christa turned and grinned at her. “Not bad for a ballplayer, right?”

“Not bad for a cover model.”

Christa laughed and glanced at Bryn. “I really like her.”

“So do I,” Bryn said, coming over with a bouquet of flowers. “Here, hold this for a second, will you? This is Teryl, by the way.”

Nev nodded hello to the pregnant woman. “Want me to hold yours, too?”

“That would be great,” Teryl said with a smile. “I'm carrying enough weight around these days, if you know what I mean.”

Nev took the bouquets, inhaling the heady sweetness of the stargazers. The things had to weigh five pounds each. Upon closer inspection, she found a softball tied to the bottom of each. “Nice touch,” she said with a laugh.

Christa nodded. “Thanks.” She pivoted so Emily and Bryn could adjust the hooks on the train, and then Bryn lifted the armful of tulle and lace. She spread it out into a fan shape that trailed six feet behind Christa on the floor, and stood back to admire her while Teryl fussed with the veil.

“You're stunning,” Nev told her, already getting choked up.

“We're so proud of you,” Emily gushed, enveloping her in a hug. “I'm so lucky to be getting you for a daughter-in-law.”

“Hey,” Bryn ordered, clapping her hands. “No crying. I mean it. You'll ruin Christa's makeup, because once you start it's all over. Plus we've got an expectant mother here, and everyone knows they cry over everything.” She glanced over at Nev. “Dec here yet?”

“Rhys went to find him and Luke.”

Emily's head swung around. “Luke's already here?”

Nev saw the flicker of panic in Emily's eyes and nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Don't worry,” Christa soothed, as though comforting Emily was more important than the fact her wedding was minutes away. “You won't have to sit with him and I bet you won't even see him until after the ceremony.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, a hand over her stomach as though she was fighting back nerves. She met Nev's gaze and forced a wan smile. “Haven't seen him in years. Not since the day he flew in from Louisiana to haul Rayne off to boot camp.”

“What a day that must have been,” Christa laughed, trying to brighten the mood.

“Oh, it was,” Emily agreed with a wicked smile, making it plain something equally memorable had happened between her and her ex that day.

Someone knocked on the door once and then Ben popped his head in. “You guys ready to rock?”

They all looked at Christa, who gave them the most serene smile Neveah had ever seen. “Yes.” Like a fairy princess with her train trailing behind her, she came over and collected her bouquet. “Thanks,” she said, her hands rock steady.

“You're welcome. I'd wish you luck, but you don't look like you need it.”

The woman's light blue eyes sparkled. “Please. After facing Olympic pitchers and cheating death? Nothing could rattle me now.”

Putting on a smile, Nev prayed that statement wouldn't be tested.

Outside the church door, Rhys stood with Luke and Dec while the guests passed into the foyer for the wedding. Considering he was the father of the groom, Luke didn't look too happy about being there. His dark brows were pulled together slightly above his wraparound shades, like he was deep in thought.

Or in a shitload of pain. Rhys watched him closely.

“Feeling okay?” Dec asked Luke, studying him with shrewd golden eyes. “You don't look so good.”

“Yeah. Fine.” He tugged at the collar of his tux.

He wasn't fine. Rhys had never seen Luke so pale, and he doubted the thought of facing his ex-wife was the reason for his pinched expression. If he was worried about security, though, Rhys didn't blame him. Each of them carrying a single, concealed pistol to deal with the threat level confronting them was a joke.

Even with him, Ben and Dec here to add additional security, plus Luke's old buddy Nate and half the Vancouver PD prowling the grounds— not to mention that half the men inside the church were police Emergency Response Team members— none of it guaranteed everyone's safety. No wonder Luke wasn't feeling well.

“Everything's locked down tight,” Dec commented, scanning the parking lot and grounds from their position.

The boss nodded. “Good.”

Except it wasn't. No matter how careful they'd been in setting up their security, no amount of personnel and vigilance could prevent an RPG or a vehicle full of explosives from detonating close enough to take out the whole building. Or to stop a well disguised sniper hidden from view waiting to put a round through someone's head.

As Rhys watched, Luke pulled in two slow, deep breaths, clenching his jaw tight. Yeah. The guy was in serious pain. And maybe fighting not to puke because of it.

Rhys glanced at Dec, who looked at Luke closely. “You get your head checked yet?”

“Yeah, I'm tight.” But when Luke turned his head to nod at the undercover officers making their way to the outer perimeter they had established earlier, he stopped as suddenly as if someone had shot him. Pressing his lips together, he put out a hand to grip the railing beside him and swallowed hard. Several times.

Rhys's stomach clenched in sympathy.
Oh, shit.
How serious was this? He debated getting Neveah, but held off because it would piss Luke off to draw attention to his condition. He decided to wait until after the ceremony and see how Luke was then, but hoped the hell whatever was going on wouldn't impede Luke's performance if something came up.

The concussion Luke had suffered in Basra on the night they'd gone in to rescue Bryn should have resolved sufficiently by now. When they'd gone into the mountains of Afghanistan to free Neveah a few weeks after the injury, the symptoms had landed Luke flat on his face in the middle of a firefight, and Sam had been forced to take care of business for him. After that, Luke had stayed busy tracking Tehrazzi plus dealing with the issue of proving Sam's innocence, and probably hadn't bothered to seek medical attention.

Rhys would bet his left nut Luke hadn't gone in because he knew damned well the doctors wouldn't let him out for at least a while. If that happened, he would've lost the tenuous thread he had on Tehrazzi's location and maybe not made his son's wedding. Both of those hadn't been an option, so Luke had carried on with his work and coped as best he could with his symptoms.

Maybe the flight to Vancouver had exacerbated them. Well, that and the stress of being here facing a likely threat to him and his family. The fact that the pain was still there made it clear Luke was dealing with more than just a simple concussion.

Just then Bryn strode out, stunning and exotic in her clingy, floor-length navy bridesmaid's dress. Dec's hard face broke into a wide smile, dimples flashing in his lean cheeks. “There's my girl,” he purred, curling a possessive arm around her waist and drawing her close to his body.

Bryn smiled up at him and then turned her gaze on Rhys and Luke. “They're ready to start. You should come inside now.”

“Y'all go ahead,” Luke told her and Dec. “Rhys and I'll wait by the back entrance.”

Bryn frowned at him. “You're supposed to sit up front, with Emily.”

Luke's eyebrows shot up above the rim of his wraparound shades, but when he opened his mouth to argue, she cut him off.

“They've left a spot for you in the first row. You're supposed to walk Emily down the aisle.” Her frown deepened. “It was a last minute change. Didn't Rayne tell you?”

Luke's hesitation was a clear no. “What about Alex?”

Rhys didn't know who Alex was, but he caught the sudden tension in Luke's shoulders as he asked the question, and figured it out fast.

Bryn gave Luke a sympathetic look. “Emily broke up with him months ago.”

Drawing another deep breath, Luke forced a nod. “It's okay. I got it.” Without looking back, he walked into the church like a man preparing to face a firing squad.

Behind him, Rhys exchanged a pointed look with Dec. Whatever the hell was going on here, they would both have to keep a close eye on Luke until this was over.

The ceremony made Nev's eyes sting despite how she kept part of her attention on Rhys, Dec and Ben, positioned around the church. They didn't move though, so that eased some of the anxiety swirling through her. Luke was up front a few seats from Emily, and even without knowing all the details Nev could see the uncomfortable tension between them in their posture. With effort, she turned her attention back to the wedding.

At the altar in his red serge RCMP uniform, the groom took Christa's face in his hands and kissed her to seal the vows they'd made, and Nev's throat closed up. They looked so blissfully happy, and knowing the story of how Christa had barely escaped her deranged stalker only make their happy ending sweeter.

Their love for each other was so strong they almost glowed with it. This was what life was about. To enjoy it to the fullest and appreciate every moment because you never knew which would be your last. And if you were incredibly lucky, you might find someone you loved to spend some of those moments with.