The Billionaire’s Marriage Of Deception

Chapter 2

By the time Amanda had been hauled off the floor and gone upstairs and showered again to get all of the tiny glass pieces out of her hair and finally put on some clothing, Michael had gotten the resort’s housekeeping staff to vacuum up the shattered glass and board up the broken windows with plywood. Amanda gaped at the half-dozen people industriously cleaning up with nary an exclamation or protest, like this was something that happened every day.

There was a short, nearly-bald man in a suit and wearing a Royal View Resort name badge quietly talking with Michael and an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard, also in black. When Michael saw Amanda coming down the stairs, he held up one finger and started nudging the manager towards the door. A few minutes later, the workers were gone, and except for the plywood, it was like nothing had happened.
When the front door closed, Michael turned to Amanda and grinned. “Hi. This is Demore Williams, my boss. Demore, this is—”

“Who the hell are you people?” Amanda demanded. She swept out one arm to indicate the living room. “What happened here, and how did you get it cleaned up so fast?”

“It’s our job,” Demore drawled. “That’s all you need to know.”

Amanda stared at him. “You run around diving through windows and jumping on top of people?”

“Don’t forget saving them from bullets.” Michael held up a small lump of metal between his thumb and forefinger. “We dug this one out of the wall. It probably would have gone through your head if I hadn’t jumped on top of you.”

Amanda blinked as she took that in. Then she grabbed at the breakfast bar to steady herself after a sudden rush of vertigo. “What?” she asked more weakly. “I don’t—why would anyone want to shoot me?”

“They don’t.” Williams’ voice was low and probably meant to be reassuring. “Up until this afternoon, you weren’t supposed to be staying here. Someone else was.”

“The guy with the funny name, right?” Amanda asked.

“Sidibe,” Michael filled in. When Williams gave him a reproachful glare, he grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Look, I’m more than happy to forget I ever saw you or ever heard of the guy,”

Amanda said, holding up her hands. “I’m here on vacation.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Williams rumbled.

Amanda’s stomach flipped over. “What?”

“See, here’s the thing.” Michael leaned sideways on one elbow on the breakfast bar, the tight fabric of his shirt stretching over his chest. “We were watching this place, but from the inside out, looking for threats. The guy who was shooting, he would have seen you clearly through the window with the lights on and everything. He would have seen your face and known that you weren’t Sidibe. And yet he pulled the trigger anyway.”

“Why?” Amanda asked, bewildered and more than a little scared.

“Doesn’t matter,” Williams said with a shake of his head. “What matters is that you need protection. I’m afraid we failed to catch the shooter, which means he’s still at large and may have accomplices.”

“But what about the guy you’re supposed to be protecting? You’re going to forget about him?”

“Our people have been in touch with him,” Demore explained. “He got spooked and never left Miami, so we have a team that can watch him there.”

Amanda looked back and forth between them. “And you’re going to stay here and be my bodyguards out of the goodness of your hearts?”

Michael cleared his throat and looked away, scratching the back of his head. Amanda turned to Demore, who was studiously looking at the floor. “What aren’t you telling me?” Amanda demanded.

“Look, it’s perfectly safe,” Michael said, spreading his hands out. “I’m going to be with you the whole time. You can keep having your vacation, and as soon as we get the bad guys, you can forget you ever saw us.”

“As soon as you get the bad guys,” Amanda repeated.

Michael nodded firmly.

“The guys who think that I’m the person they’re supposed to be shooting.”

Michael nodded again, less enthusiastically.

“I don’t suppose you know what they look like?”

Michael hesitated, then shook his head.

Amanda folded her arms over her chest. “In other words, you need me to stay here and be bait while people you don’t know try to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Michael said with a wince.

“I would.” Demore’s firm tone had the other two staring at him. “C’mon, Michael, even if they realize she’s not their target, she’s still a witness, and you know they don’t like loose ends.”

“Who are they?” Amanda asked.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Demore said darkly.

Amanda shivered.

“So, uh, is your husband upstairs?” Michael asked. “Because we should let him know—”

Amanda started internally having forgotten about the whole ‘fake honeymoon that was supposed to be the real’ thing, and then she winced. “Er, that is, no, it’s just me.”
Michael frowned. “But isn’t this the Honeym—” He cut off at an elbow from Demore to his ribs. “Right, just you. That’ll make it easier. Since I’ll have to be with you pretty much 24/7. You’ll need to show me the bedroom and the bathroom and where all of the windows are so we can start preparing a plan.”

“Yippee,” Amanda muttered. Not only were there unknown people shooting at her, but the hottest guy she’d ever seen was going to be living in her back pocket after learning what a loser Amanda was for being here all alone. Plus she didn’t know who they were or really what they wanted. She should probably call somebody; Wyatt, who handled security for the firm and find out who they could be. She was here on her own and this could be some sort of elaborate scam. In the meanwhile though, she needed to play along.

It was at least three more hours before Amanda managed to fall asleep. The first hour was spent walking around the villa with Michael and Demore and answering a series of increasingly personal questions about her vacation plans, daily routine, sleeping habits, and some things that she had to insist were none of their business.

The second hour was spent trying to fall asleep while the two men puttered around downstairs and outside and made enough noise that every time Amanda’s eyelids started to droop, she’d jerk awake again.

The third hour was spent lying awake in near-silence, staring at the ceiling, flinching at every noise and shadow, wondering how the hell she’d gotten herself in this situation and wondering if it was safe to call Wyatt yet. She fished out her phone and sent him a text, asking him to send one of his men to the island without saying why. She wasn’t sure if these people had her bugged.

When Amanda woke, it was after only four hours of sleep, leaving her bleary-eyed, grouchy, and miserable from a dream she couldn’t remember. The sun was streaming in the windows, or at least as much as it could stream around the blinds Michael had insisted on pulling down, and Amanda figured she wouldn’t be going back to sleep.