Sophie let out a squeak of surprise as I tugged on her hand and pulled her behind the curtain, drawing her into my arms. Winters House was packed with wedding guests, and we hadn’t had a second alone all day.

Charlie's wedding had been planned with only six weeks notice and was on Christmas Eve, but that hadn't stopped most of the guest list from scrambling to attend. She was a Winters, after all. On top of that, her departure from Winters Inc., plus hooking up with a guy like Lucas, had made for some seriously interesting gossip as far as Atlanta society was concerned. She and Lucas had only invited a hundred people, but the house was bursting at the seams.

I’d pulled Sophie into the living room, looking for a quiet corner. The curtains would have to do. As children, we'd hidden in these curtains more than a few times. Reaching from the floor almost to the high ceiling, they were made from layers of heavy, rustling silk. The perfect hiding place—a dark cocoon of privacy—the sounds of the party muffled through the silk.

I needed Sophie to myself for a few minutes. She was my date for the night, but too many wedding guests were intrigued by my return, and it had been impossible to get a moment alone.

Time alone with Sophie had been a constant challenge for the last two weeks. During the day, Winters House had been a hive of activity. Charlie and Mrs. W had every available hand pitching in, and we did whatever she and the wedding planner told us to: rearranging furniture, setting up seating, carrying equipment.

Amelia claimed old age and set up a chair in the front hall to supervise the proceedings, gaining scowls from everyone working, but entertaining us with her comments. Sophie was somehow able to help with the wedding and keep an eye on Amelia at the same time.

When I was a child, both my mother and aunt Olivia had claimed that Mrs. W had eyes in the back of her head. I still wasn't sure about that, but I was beginning to believe that Sophie might. More than once she'd stopped what she was doing, marched over to Amelia's chair, stuck her hand in the pillows propped behind Amelia, and withdrawn a package of cookies or candy bar.

Someday she would make a great mom. Our kids would get away with nothing.

That thought should have shocked me. At least scared me a little. We'd only known each other a few weeks, and we both had things to deal with before we were ready for a commitment like that. Despite all the weddings going on, I wasn't running out to go ring shopping.

Not yet. Not unless I wanted to scare Sophie off. But as every day passed, I grew more convinced that she was it for me.

We slept together every night in her room. I'd tried to talk her into sleeping in my suite, but she'd insisted she needed to be across the hall from Amelia. Amelia slept like a rock and had never needed her in the night, but Sophie claimed that wasn't the point.

I didn't care. I was happy wherever Sophie was. My room. Her room. I wouldn't mind bedding down on the ground if she were beside me.

We’d both worried that the motion sensors would make our insomnia even more frustrating. It was bad enough not being able to sleep. Being trapped in one room, unable to roam, to get a cup of tea or watch a movie, seemed like a punishment.

It wasn’t. The first time I woke from a nightmare of flashing lights and gunshots, Sophie had reached over and stroked my cheek until the iron band around my chest loosened and my heart rate slowed to normal.

She’d murmured my name in her sweet voice, her fingers trailing over my skin, soothing the nightmare away. When I had my head back on straight, I’d pulled her into my arms and thanked her the best way I knew how.

That became our pattern.

Our insomnia was different—I had trouble falling asleep, and Sophie had trouble staying asleep, but we both woke with nightmares. I made love to her every evening after we turned out the light—and sometimes before—until we were both exhausted enough to sleep. When I felt her wake in the dark hours before dawn, I'd reach for her again, chasing away her restless tension with pleasure.

In halting words, her cheeks pink, she’d told me she was protected from pregnancy by a birth control implant, and she’d been tested after her husband had died. If I wanted to, we could forget about the condoms. I wanted to. Fuck, did I want to. Being skin to skin with Sophie, nothing between us, was heaven. It wasn’t just the pleasure; it was the intimacy. The trust.

It was too soon to say, but it felt like I was sleeping better. Either way, I'd made an appointment for after the new year with the therapist Cooper had recommended. His patient roster was filled with guys like me who'd seen action overseas and were having trouble transitioning to civilian life.

Sophie had her own appointment after the holidays. To be honest, we were both dreading it, but talking to a shrink was better than waking in the night, mind and body convinced I was back in the worst moments of my life.

Funny how it was so much easier to suffer my own flashbacks and insomnia than it was to watch Sophie do the same. I'll go if you'll go, she'd said. If not for that, I have no idea how long it would've taken for me to pick up the phone and call Cooper.

I would have put it off forever if it hadn't been for Sophie. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be free. She would be. I would make sure of it.

There hadn't been any more intruders in the house or another mysterious phone call, but I couldn't relax.

It turned out I was smart to stay on guard. Just the day before, Aiden had pulled me into his office and handed me an unsealed envelope addressed to Sophie, with a local postmark. I’d turned it over in my hands before asking, “What is this?”

“It came in yesterday. Cooper already checked it—no trace, no prints. Mailed somewhere in Atlanta a few days ago.”

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of plain, white letter-size paper, the kind sold in reams in any office supply store. The message was written in a slanted hand, the points of the letters dense with ink, as if the author had pressed on the pen too hard.

It read, ‘I miss you so much, my darling. Soon, we'll be together again. Forever.’

“What has Cooper found out about the husband?” I asked, turning the message over in my hands before refolding it and sliding it back in the envelope.

I fought the urge to tear it to pieces. Maybe sensing my thoughts, Aiden reclaimed the envelope and sat down behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat opposite.

When I did, he said, “Nothing good. I have no idea how Sophie met this guy, but he was into some bad shit. Among other things, he handled money laundering for the Accorsi crime family. About a year after Anthony Armstrong died, a few of them ended up going to jail, including Matteo Accorsi, the head of the family. Cooper found some information that indicates Anthony may have provided the key testimony that put them there.”

My mind raced with the possibilities. “Before or after he died?”

Aiden shook his head. “Cooper is having a hard time finding out, which means anything is possible.”

“Shit. Has Sophie seen that letter?”

“No. My gut instinct is to keep it from her, but I wanted to run it by you first.”

I thought about the look on Sophie's face when she’d dropped her phone two weeks before. The shock. The fear. The way her skin had turned to ice.

She was a smart, resilient woman. There was absolutely no sensible reason to keep this from her. Whoever the letter was from, she was a target, and she had a right to know.

I still wasn't going to tell her.

Making a quick decision, I said, “She can't leave the house without protection.”

“Agreed,” Aiden said, immediately jumping on my train of thought.

“I'll disable her car. If she needs to go anywhere, I'll drive her.”

“Cooper already has two guys on the house at all times,” Aiden said. “Between that and the alarm, she should be safe if she stays here.”

“We’ll tell her about this later. After the weddings, when things have calmed down a little.”

I started to get up, and Aiden motioned for me to stay where I was. Curious, I settled back into the chair and waited. He shot a cautious look at the door before he said, “How does Lise seem to you?”

My younger sister Annalise, Vance's twin, had come home the day before. On the surface, she looked good. She was tan, blonde hair streaked with platinum after spending the last few months in New Mexico, shooting the desert. She'd been all smiles and hugs, but she was too thin, and lines bracketed her mouth.

I shook my head and said, “She needs to slow down. Come home.”

“She keeps telling me everything is fine, but she left Taos abruptly a few weeks ago, canceling a show at a gallery that would've been very good for her career. She left them in the lurch, which isn't like her. I think something happened, but she's not talking.”

“If she's not talking, how do you know?”

Aiden gave me a level stare.

“The Sinclairs have a guy on her?” I asked, already knowing the answer. With a laugh, I said, “I don't even want to know what they bill you every month.”

Aiden shrugged his shoulder. “At least I get the family rate.”

“And you don't have the slightest problem with spying on her,” I said, already knowing the answer to that question, too.

“I’d do anything to keep my family safe,” Aiden said, his voice grave, heavy with truth.

“What does the Sinclair's guy think? How closely is he watching her?”

“Unfortunately, not close enough to know exactly what spooked her in New Mexico. Considering that she’s spent the last ten years running from a stalker, we didn't think it was a good idea to watch her too closely and run the risk of scaring her. Riley keeps an eye on her, but he does it from a distance. He went to Taos after she bugged out, but he couldn't find anything solid.”

“Riley Flynn? He’s the guy the Sinclairs have on Annalise? Is that a good idea?”

“He's motivated,” was Aiden's response.

I wasn't sure about that. Riley and Annalise had a history. He had as many reasons to be pissed at her as he did to protect her. And if she found out Riley had been watching her all this time, she wasn't going to be happy.

“You’re positive whatever spooked her had to do with the stalker? After all this time?”

Aiden shifted in his seat looking uncomfortable. “It hasn't been that long,” he admitted. “We've kept it quiet, waiting for Annalise to tell us herself, which she never does, but every time she stays in one place too long he pops up again, and she runs. We don't know what it was this time, but he usually starts with gifts. Flowers.”

“She said she'd be home through the new year. At least a few days after Tate and Emily's wedding on New Year's Eve. We need to talk to her about this. She can't spend the rest of her life on the run.”

“Agreed,” Aiden said.

I looked at the envelope Aiden was sliding into his desk drawer and said, “Cooper is going to keep looking into Armstrong?”

Aiden nodded. “We're not going to let anything happen to Sophie.”

I didn't like the protective, almost possessive tone in his voice, but if his interest in Sophie meant he'd work harder to keep her safe, I'd let it go. For now.

“I’m coming back to work after the holidays,” I stated, flatly. I was done with asking. This time, I was telling Aiden what I was going to do. He may have been running Winters, Inc., but we both owned the same amount of stock. He couldn’t keep me out forever.

As I’d expected, his face went blank and hard. With a sharp shake of his head, he said, “Later. We can talk about this later.”

“Fine,” I conceded.

We had two weddings to get through in the next week. I could wait a little longer. Aiden left without another word.