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  He brushed a finger down her cheek, the soft skin more tempting than anything he could have imagined, and he fought to keep his hand steady through the trembling that suddenly gripped him. “That’s a surprise.”

  Her breath caught as she stared up at him, and he took it as the smallest sign of victory that she was affected. But when she spoke, it was pure Violet.

  Brisk and practical.

  “It shouldn’t be. I’m difficult on the best of days. Something you remind me of on a regular basis.”

  “I’ve never said that.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  She stepped back, her eyes wide with awareness and the wariness of cornered prey. “I need to see to a few things.”

  He moved into her space again, deliberately blocking her view of the ballroom. “It won’t stop running without you.”

  “Let’s not wait to find out.”

  He stood still for one moment longer, not sure why he was baiting her and even less sure why he’d chosen this moment. She did have a job to do and was smack in the middle of a major event.

  Still, he pressed on.

  “I’d like an answer to my question.”

  “What question is that? Why I’m so naive or why I keep ignoring you?”

  “Neither. I’d like to know what you have against this.” He flung a hand out in the direction of the merry revelers. “Forever.”

  The green eyes that usually glittered at him like hard emeralds softened for the briefest moment as she shifted her gaze toward the ballroom. But it was the light, wistful whisper that gripped him by the throat and hung on. Hard.

  “You know, Max, I try to be hopeful. But most days I just think happy-ever-afters are for suckers.”

  * * *

  Violet fought the shaking of her limbs as she strode across the ballroom. Damn Max Baldwin and his all-seeing blue eyes and his freaking questions that cut far too close.

  Damn him.

  A hard knot of tears thickened her throat, and she swallowed around it. She would not cry here. Goodness, what had happened to her? She was a professional. She owned a business and she was responsible for the event going on around her.

  She could cry later.

  On a hard breath, she gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts. She’d been doing it for years. Pressing down on the hurt and pain to ensure no one saw the wreck that lived inside. And she’d be damned if she showed that sorry face to the assembled crowd at the Kelley-Gardner nuptials. Over four hundred of Dallas’s elite and she was considering a breakdown.

  No freaking way.

  Instead, she’d use the anger and the frustration and just work that much harder. Max Baldwin didn’t know anything, and his leading questions were designed to throw her off guard.

  “Violet!”

  Kimberly Kelley, now Kimberly Gardner, bounced over to her on light feet. The silk creation that wrapped her tall, slender body was as traditional as it was modern. Another Cassidy Tate creation.

  Her friend had managed to capture all the gravitas and elegance of a wedding while ensuring the bride still looked fully twenty-first century. Violet made a mental note to have the photographer snap some extra photos for their portfolio with the bride in motion.

  “Kimberly. It’s a beautiful day.”

  “It’s wonderful and amazing, just like you promised. Jordan and I truly can’t thank you and Cassidy and Lilah enough. It’s the perfect day.” Kimberly smiled as she took in the assembled crowd. “Perfect.”

  Although she only had a few years in age on the bride, Violet couldn’t help thinking that bright-eyed, wondrous smile had never been hers. She’d never looked that young. And she’d certainly never been that carefree.

  But she’d given that gift to another, and that had to be enough. It had to mean something. Didn’t it?

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying the day. You look amazing.”

  “I did want to thank you, and we will be going out to lunch, my treat, after Jordan and I are back from Aruba. But I also stopped you for another reason. The security team wanted to talk to you.”

  “Of course.” Violet had already begun moving when a slender hand gripped her wrist. “They can wait a minute. Come here.”

  Before she could take another step, Violet was wrapped in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  Those damnable tears threatened again, and Violet held them back. Instead, she hung on an extra moment before stepping away. “Go enjoy the day. Find Jordan and dance until dawn. That’s all the thanks I need.”

  Kimberly nodded before rushing toward her new husband. Violet watched for a moment before she turned on her heel and headed for the lobby area outside the ballroom.

  What could security possibly need?

  * * *

  The chaos that greeted her had Violet reconsidering a four-hundred-person guest list.

  Individuals in various states of drunken enjoyment littered the reception area outside the ballroom. Two men—obviously some of the more heavily intoxicated of the bunch—had stripped out of their tuxedo jackets and bow ties and were circling each other like prize fighters.

  “What is this?” Violet deliberately kept her voice calm, pushing as much authority as she could into her words, and used their quiet force to gain everyone’s attention.

  She should have used a roar.

  The two men leaped on each other. She barely missed being a part of the fray as the hard smack of fists on flesh echoed off the two men, who grunted and groaned as they locked into battle.

  “Stop it!” The words were as ineffective as she knew they’d be, but it was the cheering of the crowd that had her seeing red. “Stop it now!”

  The Kelley and Gardner families came from money, including a political dynasty on the groom’s side. The added security was meant to ensure the family was safe. Instead, they were out here dealing with a group of guests acting like ill-behaved gorillas.

  On a hard exhalation, Violet had to admit that was an insult to gorillas.

  Two of the security team members she’d met earlier were on opposite sides of the brawl, trying to find ways to pull the two grappling guests apart, but neither seemed to get a good grip on the duo. If she was honest, she suspected they were ill prepared for dealing with a scuffle between two wealthy guests.

  Which was still no excuse for inaction.

  “Gentlemen!” She pushed another layer of authority into her tone and added a nice veneer of bitchiness as she eyed where she could get a good foot into the middle, toppling the two men. Before she could strike a handy shin, the two men were suddenly pushed apart.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Max stood between them, holding each at arm’s length, his gaze dark and his shoulders straining hard against the thick material of his suit jacket.

  Blood dripped from one of the men and the other spit a mouthful onto the carpet, nearly wrenching a scream from Violet that even their fight hadn’t managed to do. This was a nice venue. One of the most prime venues in the city, truth be told, and they’d behaved like this?

  She moved up close to the hard body of the one who’d spat his displeasure, her finger already drilling a hole in his chest. “What’s the matter with you? This is Kimberly and Jordan’s special day—”

  “Get out of my face, lady.” The man nearly shoved her, and it was only Max’s hard press on the guy’s chest that held him still.

  “What’s your—” Violet broke off as she caught the hazy dimness in the man’s gaze, his pupils blown wide even in the bright light of the room. “This man needs help.”

  “Violet.” Max’s voice was urgent even as he maintained a firm, restraining hold.

  Violet laid a hand on Max’s arm to steady him before she turned to one of the security guards. “Go get John. He’s on detail in the ba
llroom. Tell him we have someone out here who needs help.”

  Her words were still echoing off the now-quiet crowd when the tuxedo-clad fighter fell flat on his back.

  Chapter 2

  Max had watched the man fall as if in slow motion. He’d fumbled to get a firm grip, but the guy was already laid out cold before he could get any sort of hold.

  What the hell?

  Violet dropped to her knees beside the man, feeling for a pulse as she shouted orders to those assembled around the ballroom. Several of the guys who’d drunkenly cheered on the fight rapidly sobered as they realized the situation had gone from a good-natured fight to something far more serious.

  Max scanned the room, looking for someone who could help him wrangle the other guy until they got to the bottom of what was going on. He caught sight of a man seated calmly on a couch. Who watched a fight that passively? The man only lifted his eyebrows and offered a small shrug as if to say “young men and their ways,” but Max ignored it as he turned.

  Was the jerk really that callous?

  Hell, there was a woman stuck in the middle of this who could have been struck by flying fists, and at least one of the fighters was high on who knew what.

  At the realization that Violet could have been hurt, thoughts of the uninterested bystander vanished, and his gaze lasered in on the object of his increasing attention. As he expected, she’d inserted herself smack in the middle of it all, shouting orders like a drill sergeant from her position beside the downed man.

  “The ambulance is on its way. In the meantime, get him comfortable and covered and get something under his head.”

  With a quick leap to her feet, she focused on the other half of the fight. “What happened here?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You were brawling in the middle of a wedding.”

  “Nate started it.” The immediate chest puff beneath the studs of the man’s tuxedo shirt had Max moving to stand next to the second fighter.

  “What did he start? You’re at a party.”

  “Trash talk. Weird stuff.” The guy stopped and scratched at his temple. “Really weird stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “We were talking about the wedding and how Jordan’s now handcuffed to Kim. In a good way, ya know?” The guy scratched his forehead again, the adrenaline fading from his voice as the heat of the moment faded into the aftermath. “And then he breaks off and starts talking about handcuffs and how he’s going to find a woman of his own to handcuff. And then he—” A wash of red filled the man’s face. “He said a few things about my sister that I don’t want to repeat.”

  Max let the man process, the unreality of the moment giving way to his increasing ability to think through what happened. “You know him?”

  “Sure I know him. Since we were kids. Nate’s a good guy.”

  “And the two of you usually don’t brawl like your lives depend on it?”

  “No. Heck no.”

  Because Nate’s a good guy, Max thought.

  “All we were doing was having a few drinks. Over there.” With the excitement fading, people had moved back to the bar set up for the Gardners’ guests. Open bars had a way of bringing out the party animal in everyone, but Max couldn’t help thinking there was something else at play.

  Max glanced down at the felled Nate, his eyes still closed and his breathing coming in rapid pants. The security team surrounded him and the lead Violet had called for was on his knees, assessing the man’s situation. “Does Nate like to add anything to liven up his party?”

  “You mean drugs?” The guy’s eyes widened. “No, man. Nothing.”

  Violet had stayed quiet, but she chose that moment to speak up. “Is it possible someone slipped him something?”

  “We were—” The fading buzz and postadrenaline low had dulled the man’s eyes, but they flashed with a shot of fire. “There was a guy. Over there. Older guy. He talked us up for a few minutes. Said how much he was enjoying the party. Asked if we were friends with the bride or the groom.”

  The man’s gaze flew around the reception area before he shook his head. “He’s gone.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Unremarkable. I don’t know. He just sort of blended in. It’s a party, ya know.”

  Yeah. He did know. For all the security in place, the hotel was large and no one had perceived there was much danger, especially once the groom’s grandmother—a three-decade congresswoman—was ensconced in the ballroom, protection detail nearby.

  Max took a view of the room through fresh eyes, his surprise at the man who’d sat unmoving on the couch flashing in his memory.

  Had the guy dropped something in Nate’s drink?

  Although he followed a steady progression around the room, reading each quadrant for anything suspicious, Max knew what he’d find.

  Everything was back to normal, and there wasn’t a stranger in sight.

  * * *

  Violet waited until the ambulance had come and gone before finding Kimberly and Jordan in the ballroom. She hated telling them anything, but they had a right to know about their guest, and she’d rather they heard it from her so she could spin the story, minimizing its impact on the event.

  Nate had been checked out, and while the paramedics had shared precious little information, she did get out of one of them where they were taking him. Brad, the guy Nate had fought with, joined his friend in the ambulance and promised to report back with any updates.

  “Where’s the ambulance?” Cassidy’s breathless voice grabbed her just as Violet got the bride and groom in her sights.

  “On its way to the hospital.”

  “What happened?”

  Violet wanted to get it over with, but she also knew Cassidy would be a good sounding board for how casual she could make the story. “Heated words followed by a fight in the lobby.”

  Cassidy’s tone only ratcheted up as Violet finished the last notes of the retelling. “And that required an ambulance?”

  Reconsidering, Violet couldn’t quite stop the wry grin. “I was hoping the fight would divert attention from the whole ambulance part.”

  “Try again.” Cassidy’s soft blue gaze was serious as she moved them both toward the wall. “In the meantime, calm down for a few minutes. Another dance or two isn’t going to make a difference, and it will give you some time to settle.”

  Violet knew her friend was right, and she used the short walk to unruffle her feathers. There was something at every wedding that was unplanned and often unpleasant, but she got through.

  For some reason, she couldn’t find any hint of that quiet calm today.

  “Now spill. What really happened?”

  “That’s what’s so odd. The two guys fighting were best friends. But the one in an ambulance headed for Baylor’s emergency room right now is clearly high on something. He collapsed after Max broke up the fight.”

  “Max broke it up?”

  “He was considerably more effective than security.”

  Violet inwardly winced at her dry tone. Max had helped, and she was grateful.

  “He’s been keeping a watchful eye,” Cassidy said.

  “Too watchful.”

  Cassidy’s gaze was equally watchful, but her tone was full of the censure only old friends could manage. “You need to get over this annoyance with him. We have the rubies because he made a judgment call on his feet. Being mad isn’t going to change that.”

  “I know. Damn it.” Violet tapped a toe, the nervous movement something to focus on. “I know.”

  And she did know.

  The discovery of a cache of jewels underneath the floor of their shop wasn’t Max’s fault. The fact that their landlady had hidden fakes of the British Crown Jewels and three very real—and very precious�
�rubies wasn’t Max’s fault, either. He’d just had the misfortune to snag the rubies off the top of the heap before Cassidy’s ex-fiancé, Robert, stole the rest of the find.

  “In fact, if I’m not mistaken, Max would like to find any number of ways to make it up to you.”

  A flash of heat cratered in her stomach before spreading outward like a warm flow of lava as Violet imagined all those ways Max could make it up to her. Then she locked the erotic images away. She wasn’t interested in pursuing anything—casual or otherwise—with such an overbearing man. The attraction might be out of her control, but what she did about it wasn’t. “You’re subtle, Cupid.”

  “I’m only saying what we’ve all seen from the beginning. The man’s got eyes for you, and I know you well enough to know you return the sentiment.”

  “I don’t—”

  Cassidy’s hand came up in a stop gesture with all the speed of a Supreme. “Don’t insult me or yourself by lying.”

  Violet hesitated before she pressed on. She did feel something for Max, but it didn’t matter, and no amount of breath had made her friends see reason. Just because Cassidy and Lilah had found happy-ever-afters with the men who’d descended into the middle of their lives like a hurricane didn’t mean she’d find the same.

  In fact, her history suggested the exact opposite.

  She wasn’t cut out for romantic love. And thanks to her parents’ loveless marriage and subsequent poor decisions in that realm, she had no basis for it. Instead, Violet had the deep, abiding love of friends, and she knew that was enough.

  She’d decided long ago it had to be.

  “Please think about it.”

  “I don’t see why I need to. You and Lilah have done enough thinking about it for three of me.”

  “Vi—”

  She grabbed her friend’s hands in a tight grip, her voice firm but kind. “I appreciate it. You know I do. But this really isn’t the place for it. I just sent a man out of here in an ambulance.”

  The rapid change in subject had its desired effect, even if Violet regretted the slight manipulation. She had put a man in an ambulance and finishing the wedding needed to be their focus right now. Cassidy glanced around the ballroom, her voice hesitant when she finally spoke. “Do you think the brawl has anything to do with us?”