to my fiancée.”
Gabe’s suspicions rose. Thom sounded off. Running scared. Mariella was frowning and clearly sensed it, too. The last thing he wanted was Thom getting an attack of conscience and telling Elana that he was gay. “I’ll go with you,” he said quietly and waited until Thom walked on ahead a few steps before he spoke to his aunt. “It’s okay, Tía...it’s all under control.”
“Make sure it is,” Mariella said quietly, almost gravely. “I don’t want anything to ruin my daughter’s wedding.”
“I’ve got it covered,” he assured her before he headed back into the restaurant. “You know I will always protect the family. No matter what the cost.”
* * *
Thom wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to talk to Elana with Gabe breathing down his neck. Dammit, but the dark and brooding Gabriel Santiago made him feel like an insecure sixteen-year-old. The truth was, Gabe was more Marshall than Santiago. He was more like Harrison than either Luc or Rafe. He possessed the old man’s grit and coldness...the same steely-eyed determination and ruthlessness. No wonder Gabe was the Fixer. It all made perfect sense now. Harrison was the money man, Gabe the muscle. It was clearly the perfect combination. As he walked toward his fiancée, Thom recalled the conversation he’d overheard at the house. The names. The numbers. The things that needed to be done. The Fixer fixing things while Harrison lay in a coma.
This is so fucked up.
What else didn’t he know? The police were still investigating the accident. There were no fresh leads. It was likely to remain that way unless Harrison woke up from the coma. It occurred to Thom that maybe Gabe was responsible for Harrison’s accident. Out with the old...the perfect takeover. He certainly had the connections to orchestrate such a thing.
The idea left him cold. Elana would be devastated by that idea.
Besides, he had no proof. He’d only ever witnessed Gabe and Harrison as having a close relationship. Still, as he reached Elana, the notion lingered.
She was frowning as he approached, brushing off the woman at her side to take a few steps toward him. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her lovely face filled with irritation.
God, she was beautiful. And vivacious. And challenging. And everything any man could want or desire. He longed to truly want her. To truly need her. To truly love her the way she needed to be loved.
But even after so many years, it still tasted like a lie on his tongue.
Because, in his heart, he knew it wasn’t Elana that he wanted. Or needed. Or loved.
It was someone else.
It always had been.
“I’ve been out on the balcony with your mother and cousin,” he replied, trying to make his voice as light as possible. “Did you miss me?”
She was still frowning. “Your speech...”
“I know,” he said and touched her arm. “I’m sorry. Let’s go someone where we can talk.”
She glanced around. “And leave the party?”
“Only for a moment,” he assured her. “I need to speak with you, Elana...it’s important.”
Her expression became wary, but she finally nodded a little. “Okay.”
She led him toward the bar, and they huddled in a dark corner. Thom looked over his shoulder and saw Gabe striding toward them. The other man had the upper hand. The Fixer had him by the cojones, and he knew it. But he wasn’t about to be blackmailed, especially by someone as disagreeable and grim as Gabe Santiago. He knew he had to marry Elana. That’s all that mattered. He had to do something, and fast. “Marry me,” he said quickly.
Elana’s eyes widened, and she giggled. “What?”
“Marry me,” he said again.
“Um...we’re already engaged, Thom,” she reminded him. “You asked me that question already, months ago. I said yes. You gave me a ring, and now here we are.”
“Marry me now,” Thom said and moved closer. “Tonight. Let’s fly to Vegas and do it. Just you and me. No one else. Just us, Elana...like it should be.”
“But we—”
“Come on,” he insisted, whispering the words close to her ear. “It’ll be fun. Don’t tell me you’re not as over all this wedding preparation stuff as I am. The whole thing is turning into a circus. Let’s do it. Let’s say to hell with everyone and everything and just do it our own way.”
She laughed and pressed against him. “Since when have you been so impulsive? I mean, I like it...but we can’t possibly do it.”
“You can’t possibly do what?”
Gabe’s voice. Thom’s back straightened immediately. But it was Elana who spoke next.
“My gorgeous fiancé wants to elope,” she said with a shrill laugh. “Imagine that.”
He looked at the other man and raised a brow. “Really? This is all rather sudden.”
Thom shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really anyone’s business but ours.”
Elana jabbed him in the ribs. “Thom,” she chided. “Gabe didn’t mean anything by it, did you, cousin?”
Gabe shook his head. “Of course not. But Thom is just full of surprises tonight, isn’t he?”
Elana laughed again. “True enough, but I like it. Keep this up and I’ll make it worth your while later.”
The innuendo was obvious, and Thom felt his skin heat. Elana was a flirt, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t usually on the receiving end of her flirtation. Even if it was for show, it still made him uncomfortable. Thom glanced toward Gabe and saw a brief flash of skepticism in the other man’s expression. But Gabe hid it well. Occupational hazard, he thought, figuring that the Fixer spent his life hiding who he was and what he did.
And Thom wished that making love with Elana would fix everything. But it wouldn’t.
“Everything okay here?”
Mariella.
The older woman approached and moved beside her nephew. Uneasiness crept up Thom’s spine. He liked and respected Elana’s mother, but en masse, the family was formidable.
“Elana was just saying how Thom wants to elope,” Gabe supplied.
“Really?” Mariella said, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “And what do you say, Elana?”
“I was just about to say,” Elana purred the words and leaned in toward him, “that as exciting as that sounds, there’s no way we could possibly do that without upsetting you and Thom’s parents. And Daddy,” she added, her voice suddenly quiet, “I mean, if he was here...and awake and able to...you know what I mean.”
Guilt pressed down on Thom’s shoulders. He knew how much Elana adored her father and tried to offer a few consoling words. “I’m sure he’s here in spirit, honey.”
Elana’s eyes filled with tears, and she blinked quickly. “I know. I just wish—”
“The wedding will go ahead as planned,” Mariella said firmly, cutting her off. “Arrangements have been made, venues booked, invitations sent out. It’s what we all want. What we planned. And remember that you are heading to Paris next Friday. Dior is expecting you to choose from their spring collection.”
Paris. That’s right. Elana was going on a shopping trip. Harrison Marshall’s daughter had her pick from the best fashion houses in Europe. Mariella had taken great pride in assuring that Elana had her pick from the latest collection. And no doubt his fiancée would spend her time and money equally at Saint Laurent, Givenchy and Dior. Their wedding was the event of the year on the social calendar. Hundreds