Part 22 (1/2)

”He wanted to come, but I had to veto it.” He took Bev's carry-on bag,

then her arm. ”The lads can't even open a window for a breath of air

without causing ma.s.s hysteria.”

”And you love it.”

He grinned, steering her toward the exit of the terminal. ”Optimist

that I am, I never expected this. Brian's going to be a very rich man,

Bev. We're all going to be rich.”

”Money doesn't come first with Bri.”

”No, but I can't see him kicking it out of his way as it comes pouring

in. Come on, I've got a car waiting.”

She s.h.i.+fted Emma, but the girl only moaned and hung limply in Bev's

arms. ”The bags.”

”They'll be delivered to the hotel.” He shuffled her out of the

terminal. ”There are plenty of pictures of you in the fan mags, too.”

It was a white Mercedes limo, as big as a boat. At Bev's puzzled look,

Pete grinned again.

”As long as you're married to a king, luy, you might as well travel in

style.”

Saying nothing, Bev settled back and lit a cigarette. She hoped it was

the long, miserable flight that made her feel so out of place and

hollow. Between her and Pete, Emma curled on the seat and sweatily

slept through her first limo ride.

Pete didn't pause in the lobby at the Waldorf but rushed them through

and onto an elevator. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed

that their luck had held. A mob scene at the airport or on the street

in front of the hotel would have been inconvenient, but it would have