WOULD-BE CHRISTMAS WEDDING by Debra Webb Page A

in the past tense.
    Indirectly, her husband and daughter had taught her more than she realized, including the inherent risks of working with an agent with a fatalistic attitude.
    She shouldn’t be thinking about snooping into his past. As much as she tried, she couldn’t even come up with a good reason to do so. The kiss—as stunning as it was—didn’t count. Her friends from the grief-counseling group would probably say she was transferring her feelings for William to Emmett. Except she’d never confessed to them she didn’t have the capacity for that depth of feeling anymore.
    Logically, the feelings she was experiencing tonight were most likely due to her innate need to nurture and fix. And to show her appreciation for his protection, of course.
    As the cab pulled up to the hotel, she wondered if her motives really mattered. Her brother said she was a target and Emmett had proved his determination to keep her safe. She had to consider the possibility his effort was a ruse to get her to lower her guard, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. For tonight, anyway.
    “Go on and give your statement,” he said, nudging her to the front door. “I’ll be upstairs. You know how to find me.”
    She didn’t watch him go, didn’t need the distraction of his body right now. She was smart enough to know setups happened, but through her years as a wife and mother she’d learned to trust her intuition.
    There was more to Emmett Holt than he showed, and her instincts said if he didn’t open up to someone about his real mission, he was headed for a downfall. Cecelia pulled the cap from her head and ran her fingers through her hair as she crossed the lobby to meet the detective leaning against the front desk, a paper cup of coffee from the complimentary service in his hand.
    “Thanks for meeting me here,” she said. “It’s been a busy evening.”
    Detective Jerry Gadsden had been a friend of their family for years. As she approached, he drew her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you, though I wish it was purely social. Do you want coffee?”
    “No, thank you.” She stepped to the open cooler and plucked a bottle of water from the shelf. Her palms were damp, but her throat was dry. She was about to lie to a friend and essentially file a false report.
    “Why aren’t you at home?” He gestured for her to take a seat on the small sofa, while he settled in the closest chair.
    “The gala is tomorrow.” She waved a hand in the direction of the wide staircase curving around the atrium and up toward the second level ballrooms. “It’s easier to stage the details from here.”
    He nodded. “You should have waited for the police at the marina.”
    “I know.” Cecelia hesitated. Not because she didn’t know how to answer, but because she felt someone watching her. She didn’t dare give in to the urge and reveal Emmett’s presence. “I was so scared. Those men just burst into the bathroom.” She twisted the cap and took a sip of the water. “Is Heather all right?”
    “Heather is the young woman you rescued?”
    Cecelia nodded.
    “She’s shaky, but she’ll be fine. Her father said he’d like to thank you.”
    “I believe he’s on the guest list for tomorrow night.” Did they think those men had been after Heather? Could she be that lucky?
    Detective Gadsden smiled. “You might want to suggest an extra donation for being a hero.”
    “A hero?” Cecelia laughed that off. “I wouldn’t go that far. I only did what any woman would do in my place.”
    “With great skill, if I might say so.”
    “You know William insisted on self-defense training for Casey and me.”
    “Bet you hoped you never had to use it.”
    She nodded.
    “So walk me through what happened.”
    Cecelia told him the story, minus Emmett’s involvement and the previous encounter in the alley.
    “Pardon me for saying so, but did you change clothes? Most of the guests at the marina were dressed a bit more for a