“My God,” someone gasped to Joker’s right. He turned and arched an eyebrow at the tall, lanky man who sported thick square-rimmed glasses encrusted in rhinestones, a chunky knit turtleneck sleeveless sweater—the collar of which was so ginormous and fluffy it looked like it was swallowing him whole—and a pair of matching harem pants. Oh, and translucent sandals. Let’s not forget those.

  “You are so insightful,” the man drawled, hand to his chest. “Do you know the artist?” He studied Joker, his eyebrows lifting when it became apparent Joker was not a guest but security. A look of distaste quickly followed. “My mistake.” He caught sight of Chip and mewled, “Aw, what a pretty puppy!”

  Sweet Betty White.

  The guy completely ignored the tactical vest Chip wore and the five noticeable patches with white block letters that stated: “DO NOT PET. I’M WORKING.” He took a step forward, hand out, and Joker quickly stopped him. “Sir, please do not pet the dog. He’s working.”

  The man blinked at him. “But he’s just sitting there. Can I touch his ears? They’re so big!” He leaned toward Chip, and Joker sighed.

  “I hope you’re a lefty.”

  The man paused and blinked at him. “What?”

  “I said, I hope you’re a lefty because you’re about to lose that hand.”

  Chip let out a low growl, and the guy squeaked before snatching his hand back. He power-walked the hell away from them, throwing glares over his shoulder as he did.

  Cackling filled Joker’s earpiece.

  “Shut up,” Joker said through a grunt.

  “Oh my God, I can’t breathe.”

  “That back there is why murders happen. The point is, I’m right.”

  “You are,” Jack replied. “Because you are so insightful.”

  “And you are so dead when I get my hands on you, Constantino. And what the fuck? Just because I don’t look like a cross between Elton John and an alpaca, I don’t know art?”

  “But you don’t know art,” Jack reminded him.

  “Not the point, Jack-ass.”

  Jack snickered.

  “I don’t know how Ace does it.”

  “Maybe you should ask him.”

  Maybe he would.

  Joker hummed as he slowly made his way around the giant room, which was several rooms with moveable walls. The Saint Gio Charity Tour had officially started. For the next month, Gio had numerous charity events, auctions, brunches, lunches, and dinner meetings in several cities across Florida. None of which was unusual for someone like Gio. Frankly, his calendar wasn’t all that different from Colton’s, but Joker didn’t work Colton’s security. That wasn’t his job. Executive protection wasn’t his job, which was why King had assigned Saint to be Gio’s executive protection. Still, entertainment and events were Joker’s job, which was why he’d agreed to be part of the security team assigned to Gio. For now, anyway.

  Gio and King had spoken at length. Although Gio hadn’t decided whether he would hire a permanent security team—he seemed reluctant for some reason he wasn’t divulging—but he agreed to have security for the next month and then reassess with King after that.

  Two hours into the charity art exhibit and Joker still didn’t get it. The place was crawling with people who had more money than sense and little finger foods that couldn’t fill up a hamster, some of which looked more decorative than edible. They were all dressed in outrageously expensive clothing, talking about yachts, vacation homes, private jets, celebrities, the latest this or that, portfolios and profiles, and any number of rich-people topics. Admittedly, a few conversations Joker overheard were about helping people, but those usually involved Gio.

  How the hell did Ace do this? Mingle with these people, have conversations with them? What the fuck did Ace talk about? He couldn’t imagine Ace’s brand of humor going down well with this crowd. Then again, Ace could be a charming son of a bitch when he wanted to be, and if it was for Colton, Joker didn’t doubt his friend could pull it off. But didn’t it get exhausting?

  Joker caught a glimpse of Gio in the middle of a small crowd, his smile wide as he regaled guests with some tale. They were enraptured, hanging on his every word. Shaking his head, Joker continued on his route. Annoying, that’s what it was.

  No matter where in the room Gio stood, Joker was aware of his presence. While walking the perimeter, he instinctively sought the man out and found him. But then that was part of his job, wasn’t it, knowing where Gio was? Not that Saint didn’t know where his client was, but still. They were part of a team. It was all their responsibility to be vigilant.

  Taking up position by the wall, Joker stood at attention as he surveyed the crowd. It became apparent who the star of the show was, and it wasn’t the art.

  Gio stood surrounded by people, all vying for his attention, their smiles wide, eyes focused on his face, and hands on some part of him. The men put a hand to his shoulder or upper arm, while women touched his hand, chest, or arm. Why did he let these people touch him? Then again, Gio appeared genuinely pleased to see them. He took their hands, his handshake firm for the men or a kiss to the back of the hand for the women, his smile always bright.

  They laughed at whatever he just said. Nothing about Gio came across as fake. Joker frowned. For years he’d heard stories about this man from Laz, Red, or Colton, about how great Gio was, how he’d spent most of his adult life helping people, giving away vast amounts of money to help others. He’d come off as a saint, and Joker had declared bullshit. No one was that good. Not that he thought Gio was good. Or beautiful. Okay, he needed to stop thinking about the guy.

  Was it possible he’d been wrong? Joker quickly shook himself out of it. A few smiles weren’t going to sway him. For all he knew, Gio was an exceptional actor. The man exuded confidence, after all. His smile never faltered, and he seemed to know everyone who approached him.

  Goddammit, he was thinking about him again. For fuck’s sake, get your shit together!

  That night at Colton’s invaded his thoughts, and he found himself frowning. Gio hadn’t been acting then. Whatever he’d had a nightmare about was real. Something had happened to Gio while out there traveling the globe. Was that why he’d suddenly returned home? Laz clearly didn’t know whatever it was, and Joker had to wonder exactly how much Colton knew.

  “My God, the man is gorgeous.”

  Joker moved his gaze to a brunet and her male companion who’d stopped near him. They hadn’t noticed him or most likely hadn’t seen Chip at Joker’s left heel. People tended to notice the dog before they noticed the guy wearing the tactical uniform. The dog was the only reason most people didn’t lose their shit. It was the ears. Hard to freak out when faced with a dog that looked like a giant black bunny.

  “I know,” the man replied with a groan. He definitely liked what he saw. The way he raked his gaze all over Gio had Joker clenching his jaw. No question what he would do to Gio, given the opportunity. “Filthy rich, handsome, and a good guy? Ugh, I’d never let him leave my bed.”

  “You should go talk to him,” his friend said, nudging him.

  Joker stiffened. The man undressing Gio with his eyes was stunning—tall, broad-shouldered, golden-blond, big green eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a suit that probably cost more than everything Joker owned.

  “Oh, honey, I tried,” the guy lamented. “He was so damned charming when he turned me down, I wasn’t even upset about it. The man has talent.”

  “I bet,” his friend purred.

  “What about you? You’re a knockout. Why haven’t you snagged him?”

  The guy wasn’t wrong. His friend was just as gorgeous. Her ample curves filled the slinky black cocktail dress beautifully. She brushed her big soft curls away from her slender neck and pouted plump red lips. “You think I haven’t tried? No luck either.”

  “You think he has someone?”

  Joker listened intently, though he knew there was no one in Gio’s life.

  Except you.

  Joker rolled his eyes at himself, though he couldn’t help his smirk. He lifted his gaze to the crowd at the very moment Gio looked his way. Their eyes met, and Gio’s smile turned soft.

  “He never talks about his personal life,” the brunet replied and shrugged. “Who knows?”

  Was it possible? All these rich, beautiful people and Gio wanted him? Why?

  A striking man in a flashy tuxedo stepped up behind Gio. He placed a hand to Gio’s shoulder, but instead of turning and smiling as Joker expected, Gio stiffened, his smile dropping from his face. He turned toward the man, his smile back in place, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. Joker spotted Saint near Gio, but Saint didn’t know Gio the way Joker did. He didn’t see the rigid way Gio held himself, the subtle tension in his jaw, and the way he quickly took a step back, forcing the man’s hand off his shoulder.

  Joker had been observing Gio since his return almost nine months ago in an attempt to figure the guy out. By now he was all too familiar with Gio’s quirks—when he was genuinely happy to see someone, when he was simply being polite, or when he was uncomfortable and wanted the asshole in front of him to get gone.

  Gio shoved his fists into his pants pockets, something Joker had noticed Gio did when he was anxious around someone. Joker didn’t hesitate. He made his way through the crowd, and everyone moved out of his and Chip’s way. Some looked startled, as if seeing him for the first time, while others seemed amused, their smiles and gazes on Chip. Seeing Joker heading for Gio had Saint on the move, and he stood behind Gio to his right while Joker stopped behind Gio just to his left. He caught part of the quiet argument.

  “The answer is still no,” Gio replied through his teeth. “And quite frankly, I can’t believe you have the gall to show up here and ask. You should have known better, William.”

  “How many times do I have to apologize? Why do you always have to be so stubborn? Please. Have dinner with me. We can discuss this, and you’ll see—”

  “No.”

  “Goddamn you, Giovanni. Just fucking listen. I want—” William reached out to grab Gio, and Joker caught his wrist. The man stared down at him.

  “He said no.” Joker let his voice go low, the warning clear.

  “Who the fuck are you?” William jerked his hand out of Joker’s grip.

  “Don’t be rude, William.” Gio narrowed his eyes at William before turning to put a hand on Joker’s shoulder. “Thank you, Sacha. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” Joker didn’t take his eyes off the asshole, who glared at him.

  William moved his gaze to Gio, then sucked in a breath, his face draining of color. He looked like someone had punched him in the gut, and then he let out a harsh laugh that sounded somewhat unhinged.

  “Oh, this is good.” William shook his head, his lip curling up in disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Joker was lost. What the hell was this guy’s problem?

  “This is who you replaced me with? A prepubescent mall cop?”

  Joker’s eyebrows flew up near his hairline. The fuck did he just call me? He opened his mouth, but Gio placed himself between Joker and the douchenozzle.

  “Sacha is a military veteran. You will show him respect.”

  “That guy? Let me guess; his job was to polish the real soldiers’ boots.”

  Anger flared through Joker, but it was swiftly replaced by stunned disbelief when William went stumbling back into a crowd of people and landed on the floor on his ass, his nose bloodied.

  Holy fuck! Joker gaped at Gio, who shook his hand out, his murderous glare on William. Ace had joined Saint, waiting for the word.

  “Gentlemen, please escort Mr. Deveaux out.”

  They grabbed William and hauled him to his feet. With a snarl, he jerked his arms out of their grasp.

  “You can’t be serious,” William spat. His eyes darted to Joker, and if looks could kill, Joker would have been annihilated on the spot.

  “I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you, William.” The low, menacing tone was one Joker had never heard from Gio before. It was kinda hot.

  “This isn’t over,” William growled, stomping toward the gallery exit. Ace and Saint grabbed him again, and Joker ordered Chip to stay with Gio. He quickly caught up and took hold of William’s elbow in a bruising grip, ignoring the man’s snarl as Joker escorted him outside. William snatched his elbow away and whirled to face Joker, who got up in his face to murmur quietly.

  “If you go anywhere near him, I will end you.”

  William scoffed. “You think I’m scared of you?”

  Joker’s grin had William taking a quick step back. “You should be.”

  “I don’t know what your angle is, but if you think giving him your ass is going to get you a rich daddy, you’re in for a disappointment. Giovanni Galanos is a frigid, selfish son of a bitch.”

  “If your ass isn’t gone in the next five minutes, you’re going to learn the real meaning of frigid,” Joker warned. He left security to keep an eye on William and went back inside, hurrying to Gio, who assured guests everything was all right. They believed him and quickly went back to schmoozing. Everything might be all right, but Gio wasn’t. Joker put a hand to the small of his back and led him to one side.

  “Are you okay?”

  Gio inhaled deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth. He smiled warmly and nodded. “Yes, thank you. I need a moment. Would you mind accompanying me?”

  Joker was going to suggest Saint since he was Gio’s personal protection, but Gio looked a little pale all of a sudden. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Saint, murmuring, “Stay close.”

  Saint nodded, and they trailed behind Gio as he made his way through the crowd, assuring everyone everything was okay, smiling, excusing himself, and promising he’d be back soon. Gio picked up his pace, and Joker knew something was wrong, especially when Chip whined.

  Gio headed for a door at the back of the art gallery, and when they stepped through, Joker frowned. Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been the small empty room with the lone couch. A large plastic bottle of water sat on the floor beside it.

  “Thank you,” Gio said, sounding breathless. He turned and sat on the couch. Joker had been about to ask what the hell was going on when his pulse picked up. Chip stared up at Gio and whined.

  “Shit.” Joker pressed his PTT button. “Red, I need you. Now. And bring your bag. We’re in the room at the end of the gallery.”

  “On my way,” Red replied.

  Saint looked from Chip to Joker and back. “What’s going on?”

  Joker quickly sat next to Gio. “Talk to me.”

  The soft smile Gio gave Joker squeezed at his heart. His face had drained of color, and his brow was beaded with sweat. He shivered, but his smile remained. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. But I’m going to pass out first. You’ll be here when I wake up, won’t you?”

  Joker nodded. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” Gio closed his eyes, and Joker’s reflexes kicked in, catching him before he could fall forward. Getting up, Joker carefully laid Gio down. Red slipped into the room and hurried over.

  “What happened?”

  “We were out on the floor, and he suddenly went pale. He got all sweaty and shivered and told us he was going to pass out. Chip tried to tell us something was wrong. I think he knew.”

  Red quickly went to work checking Gio’s vitals. “His heart rate and blood pressure have dropped, which would explain the fainting. Check his wrist.”

  Frowning, Joker did as Red asked. “What am I looking for?”

  “A medical alert bracelet. If Gio was prepared, it’s because this has happened enough times for him to know the signs.”

  Joker checked both wrists. “No bracelet.”

  “Okay. If he doesn’t come out of it in the next few—”

  Gio stirred. “Sacha?” He reached out, and Joker took his hand.

  “I’m here.”

  Red helped Gio slowly sit up, and with a quiet “Thank you,” Gio took the water bottle Red handed to him.

  “What’s going on, Gio?” Red asked, concerned.

  “I’m so sorry I worried all of you. I was so busy making sure everything was perfect for tonight that I forgot to eat. I should have done better at hydrating as well. It’s not the first time, I’m afraid.”

  “Drink,” Joker growled at him, exchanging discreet glances with Red as Gio quickly gulped down the water, all in one go. This was more than dehydration. Did Gio believe they were that naive? That kind of bullshit might have flown with someone else, but not with them, and certainly not with Red, who’d been a Special Forces medical sergeant.

  When Gio was done, he handed Saint the empty bottle. “Thank you.” He made to stand, and Joker grabbed his arm.

  “Whoa. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I have to get back out there.” With a warm smile, he patted Joker’s hand. “I’m okay. I promise.”

  “You need to eat,” Red said. “Skipping meals is never a good idea.”

  With Joker’s help, Gio stood. “I’ll grab a few hors d’oeuvres. The exhibit will be over in an hour, and then I’ll have dinner.”

  Red eyed him with suspicion, and Gio laughed.

  “I promise.”

  “Good,” Joker said. “Because my shift will be over by then, so I can make sure of it.”

  Gio’s eyebrows shot up, and Joker gave him a pointed look that dared him to refuse. The guy was exhausted. He was like the saddest panda that ever sadded, so how could Joker not make sure he ate and didn’t fucking pass out again? Gio was a smart man. This was hardly the guy’s first event. Something was going on. Clearly, Red had no clue, which meant neither did Laz.

  “Great,” Red said cheerfully. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Red,” Gio called out, his smile apologetic. “Would you mind not telling Laz about this? He’ll worry for nothing.”

  Red appeared conflicted, and rightfully so. In the end, he let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t skip any more meals.”

  Gio held up a hand. “I promise.”