****

Not too often in Carter’s life, at least since the age of eighteen, did he ever feel off axis. Apparently, all that was changing today.

His bodyguard stood beside the detectives, and his staffers had turned down the television set and were tuned in like an uplink to the net.

Carter took a chance and placed a hand on Eliza’s shoulder. She didn’t flinch.

Worse, she trembled.

“What can we do for you, detectives?”

“It’s Billings, right?”

“That’s right.”

“We need to speak to Miss. Havens, alone.”

“Eliza?” As if saying her name snapped her out of a daze, she shook off his hand and glared at him over her shoulder.

“I have this,” she told him.

“If you’d come with us, we can—”

“Hold up,” Carter stepped in front of her, stopped them from leading Eliza away. He might not know what she was hiding, but he wasn’t about to let her leave the hotel in custody without some explanation. “I am a lawyer and was a judge before seeking office. If you have a reason to take Miss Havens—”

“I’m sure you’re a brilliant attorney, Mr. Billings, but even you understand that some things shouldn’t be discussed in the hallway of a very public hotel with an entourage of people at your back.”

Taking the clue, Jay said, “That’s our cue, gentlemen. Time to give everyone some space.”

“No.” Eliza grasped Carter’s arm and tugged him back. “I’ll go.”

“The hell you will.”

“Listen, Hollywood. I get that you feel the need to protect and serve here, but you don’t get it. I’ll just go. Everything is fine.”

“If you’re in trouble…”

“I’m not.”

“She’s not.” Both Eliza and the detectives spoke at the same time.

“I’ll call you later,” she promised and then stepped away from Carter’s protection and walked alongside the detectives down the hall.

What the hell is going on?

Carter met the eyes of his bodyguard, Joe, and nodded toward the retreating figures. Taking the hint, Joe followed them.

Unable to pursue without drawing attention to them, Carter watched until Eliza turned the corner and disappeared.

The woman he’d just asked to marry him was being escorted away by bona fide detectives and hadn’t been surprised in the least. Expected it even.

The gun didn’t faze her.

She didn’t explain it.

Twisting on his heel, almost colliding with Jay, Carter returned to his hotel room and swung his cell phone to his ear. “Go.” He told his staffers. “And I shouldn’t have to tell you to keep your mouths shut about what just happened.”

“We’re on your team,” Jay reminded him.

Carter’s jaw hurt with the amount of pressure his back teeth were taking. “I know. Just… just keep the others silent.”

Jay nodded to those leaving the room. “I’ll spin it…don’t worry. It’s what you hired me for.”

Rubbing a frustrated hand over his face, Carter managed a half smile while the cell phone in his hand rang. Answer the f**king phone, Blake.

Answer the f**king phone.

****

At least the detectives waited until they hit the car before they started in. “What about “low-profile” did you not understand, Eliza?”

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” she told them. She’d had a right-shit day, starting with a press conference she really didn’t want anything to do with. Moving on to the twisted media who couldn’t recognize a red light at an intersection if it was flashing in their face. Then onto a proposal from a gorgeous, successful man who, if she were being honest with herself, she had the ultimate hots for, but to whom she promptly said no…and ending with, but not limited to, being driven to destinations unknown by two of L.A.’s finest!

Yeah! She’d had a shitty-ass day!

“Standing in front of every media station in the greater Los Angeles area, and at least two national channels, isn’t exactly low profile.”

Dean, the overweight detective in the passenger seat glared at her. The last time she’d seen him he was chewing nicotine gum like it was crack. From the slightly yellow teeth peeking through his lips, Eliza guessed the cigarettes won.

James, his skinny partner drove while keeping a keen eye on his rearview mirror.

Yeah, Jim was short for James…and the fact that putting their names together spelled out James Dean wasn’t lost on her.

“I’m not eight,” she told them.

“But you look exactly like her.”

Her…damn it, her mother had a name. Not that she’d remind them.

“She is dead. Has been for a long time.” No one knew that more than Eliza.

Dean twisted in his seat and poked a yellow finger in her direction. “She gave everything to protect you. The least you could do is stay hidden so she can rest knowing you’re safe.”

“Hide you mean?”

“Hide, live life out of the spotlight…however you want to put it. Shouldn’t be hard. Zillions of people aren’t splattered all over the damn TV.”

“Yeah well…life happens.” Life with a duchess as your best friend and an influential politician suggesting marriage.

Nibbling on her fingernails, Eliza took two seconds to wish things in her life were different. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to live a normal life with a sexy man like Carter protecting her.

Wasn’t gonna happen.

She glanced at James who had stayed painfully silent during their drive. “You don’t have anything to add,” she asked.

“We’re being followed.”

Unable to stop her natural instinct, Eliza shifted in her seat and noticed Carter’s bodyguard in the dark sedan following them. “It’s okay. He’s harmless.”

“Your boyfriend’s?” Dean asked.

“Carter isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Looked like it to me and half of America. Even those in prison with privileges.”

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out thought clenched lips, she sputtered, “You’re reaching, Dean.”

“I’m not and you know it. You’re biting your nails. You know this shit stinks.”

Asshole.

“How are the cigarettes? Still smokin’?” It was mean, but he wasn’t playing fair and Eliza didn’t care. “I’ve lived my life like a good little witness-protection-program girl. I’m done. You got that…? Done!”