The blaze encircled her on the stage. The heat and smoke rushed her like she was a witch tied to a stake. She stumbled back with a cry, searching for any escape, but the dried flowers had been set around her in a circle. She would be the next thing to catch fire.
A man dove over the inferno. Emily felt Nash’s arms before she saw his face. His chest ran up against her, and before she knew it, she was in his arms. He lunged back over the fire. The tips of her turquoise boots caught fire. As soon as they landed on the other side, she stomped her boots against the marble floor. Nash was still rushing her away from the fire. He dragged her towards the exit with the crowd in their mad dash to get out.
She might’ve said that she’d rather die than perform, but she didn’t mean it. Sorta!
Emily twisted around, seeing that Lacy Lynch’s security team had jumped forward with fire extinguishers. They had the fire out in seconds.
And still, it wouldn’t have been fast enough to save her. Her guitar was charred black in the middle of the stage.
Nash had saved her.
Never mind that he’d gotten her into the trouble in the first place, but weren’t cold fireworks safe to do at weddings all the time? It was just her luck that hers had gone wrong.
Security directed everyone outside. Emily smelled the fresh air the closer they came to the exit. They passed the bag check where incredibly, people were still able to grab their jackets and purses on their way out. It was either that or wait on the sidewalk for hours before they were allowed back inside to get their belongings.
Emily reached the counter, though she couldn’t move her arms. She was still tucked against the safety of Nash’s embrace as he helped to hustle her away. This night had turned out very differently than how she’d expected.
“Emily! Emily! Emily!” She heard Mia’s voice before she saw her hands waving in front of her face. “I was so scared when I saw those flames surrounding you!” Mia turned on Nash. “You’re averybad boy!” She poked him in the arm. “And reckless! No one else would’ve run into the flames like that. Emily must mean a lot to you.”
The truth of Mia’s words struck her through. Nash could’ve died saving her. Her eyes drew to his. His chest heaved as he watched her. She burrowed closer to him, unable to explain how his wildly thrashing heart comforted her. His hand ran up her silky dress, hitting the bareness of her back. No one had ever touched her like this. But not even River could fault Nash for holding her a little closer after their close call.
Mia pushed them away from the main ballroom. “Get Emily out of here. I’ll take care of Lynch.” She hurried away from them.
The elegant party was quickly dispersing. Emily shouted out her number to the front desk clerk to get her purse. He went to the slot and came back, shaking his head. “Your bag is gone.”
“Are you sure?”
The clerk threw his hands up into the air. “I don’t know what could’ve happened. Get outside. We’ll get it sorted soon.”
At least her cell phone was with her. “But–but–but…”
“Hey.” Nash leaned closer to Emily’s ear. “Call lost and found later. Let me get you out of here. I’ll give you a ride home.”
She nodded, further stunned by how this night was going. All his jokes about stealing her away from the party were coming true. The clerk didn’t have it any easier, she supposed. She patted his arm over the counter, the strangeness of their situation making her friendlier than she’d normally be. “You know how to contact me.”
She’d explain who she was, but if the bag checker didn’t know by now, she’d be even more humiliated.
Firemen rushed through the doorway, followed by paparazzi, who’d already been lingering on the sidewalks to catch anyone famous who’d gone in. They were almost more intrepid than the emergency personnel.
She gasped when she realized that the clicks and flashes of their cameras were directed at her and Nash. Her brow flew up. Oh great! They were going to finish the job that the fire had started and burn her alive with their scathing commentary. She could see the headlines now:
Stupid girl tries to burn down Lacy Lynch’s Hendersonville mansion.
“Hey, Emily! Emily!” one of the men following them shouted out at her. “Who’s that guy you’re with?”
“Emily, look at me.” Someone else pushed forward. “Let me get a picture.”
She glanced back. Nash’s arm went back around her, tugging her away. He covered her from the flashing lights of the cameras while he led her through the brightly lit parking lot to his vehicle… which happened to be a motorcycle.
She hesitated. How was she supposed to get on there with her dress? The reporters were closing in on them. Yeah, there was no time to ask questions… or answer them.
The photographers were relentless. “Tell us where you met.”
“Are you dating?”
“Where’s he staying? Is he a friend of your brother’s? Does he work for Trout? Was he dating Eva?”
Nash jumped on his motorcycle. His hands went to her waist next, tugging her closer. Her breath caught. “Get on behind me,” he said.