They made the Snotty Garlic as well as every other paper and news site in the country. Marc had expected they would. He knew that in his position, he had no real expectation of privacy. And the block of rooms that had been rigged to explode with a weak intensity bomb and minor damage had guaranteed that.

Combine what had happened with the photos of him and Ariella dancing so close—he should have realized someone would see—and him covering her bodily to protect her, and she had become big news for those who thrived on gossip.

Especially gossip about a beautiful woman, connected to such influential people as Luc and Houghton. And him. Danger, intrigue, and a beautiful, vulnerable woman—it was a recipe for the tabloids. Damn it.

Speculation was that he and Ariella had been carrying on a long-term affair since she had relocated to Finley Creek almost eighteen months ago. Never mind that they hadn't even known each other then; speculation was just that. The news sites were speculating about him, Ariella, the Barratts—Mel was a favorite of the Texas style sections—and the people behind the bombing. So far, they had no answers about that. Or even who the target had been.

No less than three political extremist factions were claiming responsibility—never mind that he had been a very last minute addition to the guest list, an hour before his arrival. The guest list that only the Barratts and their personal staff had had access to.

No. He didn’t believe any of those groups to be responsible. But someone was. And he wasn’t stupid. After the threat he’d received during the abduction attempt, it was highly likely he had been the intended target.

That wasn’t a threat he was taking lightly.

A part of him wanted to take Mel and Houghton up on their offer to take Katie and Isaac to their Mexican estate for a few weeks of playing and relaxing. But that wasn’t a solution he wanted to consider. Yet. He hadn’t ruled it out, by any means.

At least the gossip columns had plugged W4HAV and the good Ariella was trying to do with her charity. It had also recapped the fire and how his brother and her friend had been injured. And cataloged Ariella's injuries. Almost as if they knew her. They didn’t quite cross the line, but they had more details than other the other news sites. Details that were startlingly accurate.

Interesting.

He looked over at his family once. Rayne had her headphones on and was doing whatever it was that she did to keep his life running smoothly. He knew better than to bother her at the moment. She could snap a man's head off if she was interrupted at the wrong time.

She scared him far more than her sister ever had.

Isaac and Katie had both fallen back asleep. They were used to flying, but they did not like waking early to catch the planes. Early birds, his children were definitely not. He was taking the reprieve for what it was. A break. He’d spent most of the flight thinking about Ariella instead of the work he should be doing. In the gossip column Ariella’s name was highlighted. Marc clicked on it. The link took him to every article in which she was mentioned.

There were quite a few. Mostly because of what had happened with her and Albright, and because of her connections to Luc and Houghton. He amused himself for a few moments looking at all the photos of her. The close-ups were his favorites, the ones with Jillian and Lacy next to her were his second favorites. Especially the ones where she was smiling. She was by far one of the most classically beautiful women he had ever seen. And he loved to make her smile, to laugh without hesitation.

There were the photos of them dancing together at that first fundraiser where Jillian had shoved Rafe into the pool at the Barratts’. He reread that article and laughed quietly to himself. Jillian had certainly set the tone for her and Rafe’s relationship that day.

He busied himself reading the articles, and learning what he could of Ariella—as well as Lacy and Jillian. There were quite a few articles from other sources besides the Garlic that were cross-referenced.

Including one from two years ago that reported her as missing to the Houston papers. His attention sharpened. Marc read quickly.

He hadn't known. Did Rafe?

She had been abducted and held for three days. What had happened to Ariella during those three days was just speculation, no concrete details were listed anywhere. And it was obvious to him that someone influential had squashed a lot of the chatter. Most likely Luc.

Marcus leaned back in his chair as he thought about what she had endured recently. And just what she had gone through since that abduction two years ago.

Ariella was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked. And it made sense to him why everyone was so protective of her now. When he thought of how sweet she had been, trying to help the Barratts after the explosion—if it could be called that. It had been hours before the hotel had been cleared for her to return to her suite with her brother and his wife. By that point, Luc had ordered them all to gather their things. He had his jet waiting to take them all back to Finley Creek, where they’d stay with the Barratts. He’d scooped Mel up as well, at Houghton’s insistence. Houghton had stayed behind to deal with what had happened.

Mel hadn’t wanted to go; Ariella had convinced her to. Houghton hadn’t wanted his wife anywhere near any possible danger.

Marc so understood. Losing the woman he had loved had been the single most devastating event in his entire life. Every man feared just that happening to him.

He looked at his son quickly as grief hit him again. He reached over and straightened the blanket over the little man who held half of his heart.

Carissa had never held Isaac. She had only seen him for a few seconds before she had died. That would be a stabbing pain in his heart always.

He had stayed with Ariella until Luc had ushered her and Payton and Mel into his limo and driven them away. Ariella had smiled at him before she’d left, her hair disheveled down her back, her dress torn on one shoulder.

She’d told him good-bye and to kiss his children for her. That she’d gotten the scanned copies of the paintings they’d done for her a few days ago and to tell them that they were beautiful. And then she had smiled, a genuine Ariella smile.

His world had turned sideways in that moment again. Just like it had when he’d pulled her to the ground to shelter her with his own body. He hadn’t stopped to think—he’d just known that she was in danger, and he had to protect her. Period. His entire being had centered on keeping her safe and protected in that moment.

It was time he admitted it to himself—this attraction he held for her wasn’t just a fleeting sexual pull. It was more than that. Deeper. Like it had been with Carissa.

It felt right. As if she belonged in his arms, just as Lacy and Jillian belonged with his brothers.

Hell, the Snotty Garlic knew his future far better than he did, apparently. One particular article had expanded on that very thought. The paper had put it—only a fool would miss how perfect the story would be. Three handsome brothers, three breathtakingly beautiful women. It was a set-up made for romance.

Rafe had smirked at that one. Travis had just laughed. Marc…Marc just hadn’t forgotten it. It had stuck with him.

Visited him deep in the night when he couldn’t sleep.

It was time he stopped fooling himself into thinking he would get past this, would get over her. That he wasn’t the kind of man she needed.

She was exactly what he and the kids needed. A woman to love them, that they could love back. Someone kind-hearted and brave and determined and willing to work hard for what she believed in. Someone who would fight to protect those she loved, even when her very nature was to love.

They needed Ariella.

So how was he supposed to make that happen? Without frightening her away?

Marc’s head was full of thoughts of her as the plane began its descent. As he tried to figure out just what his next step should be.