Royal Wedding Threat by Rachelle McCalla Page A

while Jason reluctantlyagreed.
    “I need to talk to the wedding planner,” Jason reminded his parents.
    His father brought him pills and a mug of tea, then returned with a mug for Ava and a warmed heat pack for Jason’s back. Jason adjusted the pack several times, but it kept sliding off.
    “Here. Let me help.” Ava picked up the fallen bag. “Where do you want it?”
    “Middle back. Up a little. To the left,”Jason directed her as she adjusted the bag.
    She found she had to scoot closer to him to reach around his wide shoulders. That brought her knees next to his and their faces close enough she could see the five-o’clock shadow sprouting on his chin. How had she never before noticed how handsome he was? The man had a fine, angular jaw. And though his glare could be commanding, his gray eyes sparkledwith concern and compassion and...other things she shouldn’t be thinking about.
    Jason was an excellent captain of the guard with an important job to do. It was her fault he’d been injured and had been forced to do so many brave things just to keep her safe. In fact, she felt awful that he was with her now, instead of back at headquarters with his men, protecting the royals as he was supposedto.
    She vowed to cooperate with his questions and not keep him any longer from his work. More than that, she pondered what she ought to do. By rights, she ought to leave Lydia to lure her would-be killer away from the royal family, instead of closer to them. But with Alexander’s wedding just over a week away, she’d only be leaving them in the lurch if she tried to flee now. They needed herthere for the wedding to go smoothly.
    Nor could they postpone the event. International dignitaries were planning to attend. They’d made their reservations. All of Lydia had prepared to host them, with hotels adding rooms and restaurants adding staff in preparation for the deluge of guests and the boon to the tourism industry. On top of that, the media had already descended on the town, reportingon each foreign dignitary as he or she arrived, and speculating on what the cake and the dress might look like.
    Without Ava, the event would be an internationally broadcast flop. She couldn’t leave. But she also couldn’t stand the thought that harm might come to the royals because of her.
    Jason’s parents brought them mugs of soup, then disappeared outside, with Michael insisting on walkingthe perimeter and Deborah refusing to let him go alone. As the door closed behind them, Ava realized she couldn’t hold the heat pack on Jason’s back and eat her soup at the same time.
    “It’s okay. My back feels better already.”
    She placed the heat pack on the glass-topped coffee table and tasted the soup, a spicy Mediterranean chicken with large chunks of vegetables. “This is delicious.It was very kind of your mother to go out of her way—I hope I’m not endangering them by being here.”
    “They’re glad to do it,” Jason hastily assured her. “I doubt we’ve been followed. My guess is that the gunman was entirely focused on hiding from the helicopters, not on following us. We’ll wait awhile to make sure he doesn’t show up. If everything stays quiet here, I’ll have the guard senda car for us, preferably while it’s still dark. They can take a roundabout route to throw off anyone who might follow them.”
    “That sounds like a wise plan.” Ava sipped another spoonful of soup.
    Jason raised an eyebrow and watched her warily.
    “What?” she asked.
    “You haven’t yelled at me in a while.”
    “I really don’t yell that often.” She defended herself, quickly reviewingher patterns. Yes, there were times when she got snippy with vendors, especially when they tried to pass off inferior products, but she never yelled at any member of the wedding party. “You usually provoke me.”
    Jason scowled.
    Ava analyzed her claim. Did the captain of the guard really provoke her that much? Or did she deliberately push him away, even