Syon looked at the team of polo-shirted crew. “Get him out of here, and keep him out of my sight if you all want your jobs.”
The team that had always hopped to Cid’s commands now jumped to haul him off the floor and out of the performers’ room. The members of his entourage stood frozen, like a pack of deer attempting to decide who was going to be the dominate buck. Syon pointed them toward the door. They went with a click of their spike heels, the one girl taking the time to scoop the contents of her purse off the table before she stood there, looking lost.
“The guy wanted us partying, because it covered his own love of the sport,” Ramsey said at last. “I swear one of those skirts is a dude.”
Kate’s emotions felt wrung out.
What just happened?
She needed to sort out her thoughts, but she was stuck on the admission Syon had made. He turned and looked at her, stirring up all the hurt that had been burning inside her for the last day.
Only a day? It had felt so much longer.
“When did we establish that I’m your fiancée?”
Ramsey groaned. He tossed his hands into the air and turned away. “Later.” But he cut her a wink before he disappeared into the hallway.
“On your six,” Drake said as he hurried to catch up.
“Don’t leave me behind,” Taz called after them. “You better come too, Yoon. They’re about to get lovey-dovey.”
Her bodyguard deserted her in a flash, taking only a moment to encourage Cid’s ex-entourage girl to join them.
Kate stood there for a moment, feeling like she’d been tossed up on the beach by a gigantic wave. She choked on a laugh. Syon. Only Syon affected her that way.
He raised an eyebrow. But she shook her head, suddenly completely unsure of him.
Okay, of herself.
Of them.
“Sorry about last night,” he said, trying his hand at explaining. “I should have told you where I was. It’s sort of hardwired in me to put the team first.”
She shrugged. “I was temperamental this morning.”
He flashed her a grin. “I loved it.”
“You did not,” she scoffed.
He nodded. “I did. Even if I owe you an apology for it. I just can’t help that I like knowing you cared enough to come after me, looking to tear a strip off my ass.”
“Well…I’d say you have it coming, but I saw the look on Taz’s face last night when we ran into that girl. I think she likes him.”
“She loves him.” Syon’s expression hardened. “And he’s got it bad for her.”
There was a hard certainty in his voice that made her ache for Taz.
“Looked like her family had big problems with that.”
“Major ones,” he confirmed.
Syon fell silent. But she could see his thoughts buzzing in his caramel eyes.
“It kills me to know I made you cry.”
She wanted to shrug it off. She started to, but he was suddenly there, clasping her in his embrace, and she lost her grip on everything except how she felt about him.
“I should have gotten rid of Cid sooner.”
She stiffened, trying to regain her composure. Syon pressed her back into his chest. “That was a dick move he pulled with the pictures. I should have let him have it.”
“You should have.”
He tipped up her head so he could lock gazes with her. “Percy might have threatened to bikini wax me over it.”
“I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.”
She felt like she was drowning. There was so much security in his embrace. It had the power to seal the entire world outside the circle of his arms.
“Does this mean Percy is going to be your maid of honor at our wedding?”
“We haven’t known each other long enough to get married.” The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was saying. She backed up, escaping a few feet as she scrambled to think.
“We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since we met.” He took a step toward her. She retreated, knowing she was going to lose all grasp on logic if he touched her.
“You didn’t ask me to marry you.”
He slowly shook his head, stalking closer to her. “It just happened, Kate. I’m as surprised by it as you are. I don’t need to hear you say you love me. I see it in your eyes. Tell me you don’t see how much of a slave I am to you? You saw it onstage. I felt the connection.”
She wanted to smile like a simpleton.
But she shook her head instead. Syon edged closer, his eyes glittering with mischief. She looked at him suspiciously, trying to gauge what he was planning, when he snagged her wrist. He stopped her train of thought, and a moment later, he bent over and she tumbled over his shoulder. He straightened up and smacked her butt with a satisfied grunt.
“Since I just fired Cid, no one will be paying off the paparazzi tonight.”
He carried her through the doors and backstage.
“Syon!”
He chuckled at her plea, walking out of the building with her on his shoulder. She lifted her head and ended up blinded by the camera flashes going off.
“Nice catch!”
“Me next!”
“Great ass!”
He carried her down to a waiting SUV and let her slide off his shoulder onto the seat. Syon paused in the doorway of the vehicle, maintaining his hold on her. He had an arm around her waist, and she’d ended up on her knees on the seat. He cupped her head, holding her steady as his eyes glittered with victory.
“‘Kiss me, Kate, we will be married o’ Sunday.’”
She laughed as the line from The Taming of the Shrew rolled off his lips a second before he claimed her lips in a hard kiss. The crowd cheered, cameras snapped pictures, and Syon kissed her senseless.
Yeah, completely senseless.
Love?
It was that too.
* * *
“Really?” Kate demanded. “Roadkill is getting first shot at our wedding pictures?”
The three cameramen were pulling on their suits, obviously ill at ease in formal clothing. Around their necks were the very coveted press passes into her wedding. They were happily dashing around the perfectly manicured lawn of the church grounds, getting shots of the celebrities in attendance. Spring was just coming to England, making the two-hundred-year-old church look majestic.
It had a bell tower with massive bells, flying buttresses holding up the ceiling, and stained-glass windows. The pews looked ancient but were gleaming from recent polish. Just stepping inside felt like a time-travel moment. She was sure she could feel the centuries of joy the building had played host to. The minister had put them through the wringer too, demanding three visits and premarital classes. But today, it was all worth it as he stood in his starched white vestment, ready to marry them.
Everything she’d ever wanted from a fairy-tale wedding. Which just happened to fit in with the European tour dates.
Syon started to turn to face her. She hissed at him through the open window of the bride’s dressing room. “Don’t peek! It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.”
“You insisted I come over here,” he growled, but he leaned against the stone wall, looking away from her.
“Because I want to know why Roadkill is here!” She felt like she was explaining something to a three-year-old.
“Had to give them a horse trade,” Syon explained. “Some pictures more valuable than the ones they had of you.”
“Oh.” Surprise held her silent for a moment.
Syon took that moment to flip around and press a kiss against her lips. She squealed and slapped him on his shoulder.
“Behave,” she scolded. But her tone lacked any true reprimand. She was so touched to hear he was championing her modesty.
He flashed his teeth at her. “Never.” He backed up with his hands in the air. “I can promise you anything but that, sweet Kate.”
Even dressed in a tux, he looked uncivilized.