She didn’t know him well enough to be certain. Maybe he treated all the women he fancied like this … and the fact she was including herself in that category, hardly seemed possible.
When the wine had been drunk and the crackers eaten and cleared away, Kat hovered at the foot of the stairs. She didn’t want to tease, to suggest something she couldn’t deliver on. Yet it felt wrong to end the day without him knowing exactly what it had meant to her.
‘Before we go up, there’s something I want to say.’
A slow smile spread across his face. ‘If it’s your bed or mine, I’m easy either way.’
She had to work hard to push the images of him naked, in her bed, out of the way. ‘Yesterday, and then, wow, today. It’s been a very special weekend. I wanted you to know that.’
He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. ‘Special for me, too.’
She should leave it at that, though somehow it didn’t seem enough. ‘I can’t remember the last time I felt so … so … oh God, I don’t know the words.’ Frustrated with herself, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘Nobody’s ever done that for me before.’
‘Treated you?’ When she nodded, he gave a slow shake of his head. ‘Then it’s beyond time someone did.’
It was so easy to get swept up in his looks, but it did him a disservice. It was fast becoming clear that inside, he was pretty special, too. ‘I want to kiss you.’ When his eyes rounded she smiled, ‘But you have to promise not to kiss me back.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘If you do, it will get out of hand, and I can’t risk it. So, will you promise?’
Slowly his Adam’s apple moved up and down. ‘I’ll try.’
Softly, gently, she pressed her lips against his, feeling the tingle from it all the way to her toes. For a few breathless seconds, she held her mouth there, her head spinning, her heart melting. When his hands slid to her hips, pressing her against him, she let out a moan pleasure. Then heaved her body away.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Then she darted up the stairs before his hot, beguiling eyes drew her into something she absolutely couldn’t afford to succumb to.
Chapter 20
Zac was into his fourth week of being the victim of a stalker. His fourth week of needing a bodyguard.
His fourth week of knowing Kat.
Was it possible to fall in love in that space of time? And despite not going further than two incredible, yet far too short, kisses?
He didn’t think so, but that’s not how his heart had felt yesterday, when he’d watched her watch the Grand Prix. A woman who grabbed life by the scruff of the neck, she’d been in her element watching the adrenalin-fuelled sport, her response to everything so animated, his heart had pumped that little bit faster every time he’d looked at her.
Even now, on a grey, overcast Monday morning, she made everything brighter. And that despite the text he’d just read from Helena, the words sending shivers down his spine.
We’ve been told if he’s going to be released, it could happen any day now.
Feeling sick, Zac pushed the phone back in his pocket as Kat drove through the studio gates. He refused to worry about something that still might not happen. The man was part of his past, and there was no reason to think he wouldn’t stay there.
Instead of dwelling on the bad, the nasty, he turned to watch Kat scan the studio car park, as she did every morning, before turning off the engine and climbing out of the car to open his door.
‘One day I’d like to open a door for you.’
‘Hmm.’ Whether she heard him and chose to ignore him, or just didn’t hear, he wasn’t sure, because her focus wasn’t on him, but on the car park.
‘I hate always waiting for you to open the door for me,’ he complained. ‘It’s horribly unchivalrous.’
He caught her lips twitching. ‘God, Zac, you and your weird way of talking.’
‘Weird? I take exception to that. I speak the Queen’s English.’
‘That’s what it is, huh?’ She wasn’t listening, not really. Her attention was on the rows of cars.
‘Kat? Is everything okay?’
‘Probably.’
‘Not exactly the answer I was hoping for. In fact, you’re starting to freak me out a tad,’ he told her, worry settling like cold porridge in his stomach.
‘As long as it’s only a tad.’
Suddenly Kat swore violently and as she shoved him hard onto the floor he heard the crack of gunfire echo around the car park.
His heart began to pound, the sound a loud, insistent throb in his eardrums.
‘Are you okay?’ Kat’s voice echoed above him.
‘Yes, fine.’
While he continued to cower on the floor – he wasn’t proud of it, but his instinct was to hide from gunfire, not leap up and face the shooter – Kat talked on her phone, her words precise, her tone calm. He’d barely been able to squeeze his two words out.
‘The police have been called. Security are out there now, doing a sweep of the car park.’ She reached down for his arm. ‘Can you get into the car and lie down across the back seat?’
‘Of course.’ He manoeuvred himself inelegantly into the back of the car, then froze when he saw Kat climb into the front and wriggle across into the driver’s seat. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demanded. ‘And keep your bloody head down.’
‘It’s not me they want.’ She turned on the ignition and thrust the car into reverse. ‘I’m driving to the entrance so we can get you safely inside.’
He had no time to argue. A squeal of tyres on tarmac and he was hurtled against the back of the seat.
A minute later she bundled him inside. He was mortified to find his legs trembling.
‘Let’s get to the dressing room.’ Kat was like the strong, fearless lion to his wimpy newborn lamb. ‘You look like you could do with a sit down and a drink of something strong enough to blow your knee-caps off.’
‘Actually, I’d like to retain them, if it’s all the same. They’re the only thing keeping my legs from giving way.’
Her eyes met his, soft and sympathetic. ‘Okay, we’ll make it a strong coffee. Attack the whisky when we get home.’
Home. The word had come out naturally, and why wouldn’t it, because it was home to her. Still, his chest warmed at the idea of going home with her.
Kat pushed him onto the sofa and then fussed around making him a coffee from the machine in the tiny kitchenette. The more he sat there, thinking about what had just happened, the more his stomach churned and the sicker he felt. Unable to hold it any longer, he rushed to the bathroom.
Not only the guy with the wobbly legs then, the one who’d frozen at the sound of a gun going off. He was now the guy who’d humiliatingly, ignominiously, thrown up.
After rinsing out his mouth and splashing water on his face, he sucked in a deep breath and walked back out.
The sympathy on Kat’s face when she saw him, only made him feel worse. It was sexist, male chauvinist bullshit but damn it, he wanted to be the strong one. The one who looked out for and protected her.
‘It scares the crap out of you, doesn’t it, hearing gunfire?’
‘Apparently.’ Though equally apparently, it had only scared the crap out of him. He fell back onto the sofa, hunching forward, forearms resting on his thighs, trying to find his equilibrium.
‘Do you want this coffee I’ve painstakingly prepared or will it, you know, make you—’
‘Have another humiliating heaving episode? Quite possibly.’ He gave her what he knew was a weak smile. ‘But I’m willing to risk it if you are.’
She pushed the mug into his hands, then surprised him by perching on the coffee table in front of him and looking directly into his eyes. ‘There’s nothing humiliating about being scared when someone’s firing a gun at you.’
He couldn’t hold her gaze. He felt too vulnerable, too disgusted with himself. ‘You weren’t.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ She
held out her hand, and he was shocked to see it tremble. ‘See, I’m having a wobble too, and the shot wasn’t even directed at me.’
‘Fuck, Kat.’ He rubbed a hand across his face, struggling to compose himself. ‘Someone tried to kill me.’
‘Yeah, but they didn’t. And now the police are out there, hunting them down.’
‘They didn’t because of you.’ How shameful that it had taken him this long to realise it. ‘You saved my life.’
She shook her head. ‘Hey, no need to get all dramatic on me. All I did was shove you onto the floor.’ Her gaze fell to the dust on his black jeans, and then up to his now creased shirt. ‘FYI, the crumpled look is surprisingly good on you.’
He knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but his mind kept going back to what had happened. ‘You risked your life to drive me to the entrance.’ While he’d been cowering on the back seat. Once again, his stomach churned. ‘Christ.’ His chest heaved on a shuddering breath and he flung his head back against the sofa, squeezing his eyes shut.
***
Kat was desperately trying to hold it together. She knew if she allowed her brain the chance to relive that moment in the car park, she’d turn into a jabbering wreck. Instead she forced it to focus on what needed to be done, rather than what had already happened. And as she watched the shame rolling through Zac, she knew exactly what that was.
‘Stop it.’ She must have said it a little more sharply than she’d intended because his eyes flew open. ‘First off, I didn’t risk my life when I drove the car. Whoever was shooting wasn’t aiming at me.’
‘And of course you knew they had perfect aim?’
If they had, you’d probably be dead. Her stomach lurched and she put a hand over it to try and settle it. ‘I took a calculated risk. One of many I’ve taken over the years.’
His face paled and he pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘That doesn’t help.’
‘Doesn’t help what?’
He sat bolt upright, agonised green eyes slamming into hers. ‘It doesn’t help my twisting guts to know you put yourself in danger for other people, not just me.’
Oh no, she wasn’t having this. She’d had this discussion once before in her life, when a guy had tried to wrap her in cotton wool. Tried to pull her out of the line of fire. ‘Were you listening to me? I said I took a calculated risk. I know what I’m doing.’ You said that last time, too, she realised belatedly, sickeningly. And look how it turned out.
A low, unamused laugh rumbled out of Zac. ‘I’m not saying you don’t. I just … Jesus.’ His eyes bounced around the room before finding hers again. A stormy green whirl of feelings, they reached right into her. ‘I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.’
Emotion balled in her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs and suddenly Kat felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Only knowing that hearing the gunfire, and seeing Zac lying on the floor, had terrified her so much that for a moment, she’d not been able to breathe.
It was a feeling that went far beyond what a bodyguard should feel for a client.
A feeling she’d felt only once before in her life, and vowed to never, ever, put herself through again.
But the heart couldn’t be controlled.
‘I overstepped again, didn’t I?’ Clearly taking her silence as irritation, she watched as he mentally and physically withdrew from her, sliding a big steel guard around his emotions. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ She reached out to clasp a hand around his clenched fist before dropping a gentle kiss on his knuckles.
His gaze arrowed in on hers. ‘What was that for?’
‘For caring about me. And to let you know I care back. When I thought you’d been shot, I totally freaked out.’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘A silent freak out? It doesn’t sound like the Kat Parker I know.’
‘Yeah, well, thankfully for both of us, the training kicked in.’ But it could have been too late. Despite her efforts to keep it locked up, the horror of the moment began to replay back to her. She’d allowed Zac to carry on talking when she should have shut him up.
She’d allowed him to distract her.
That bullet could have got him.
Bile rose in her throat and it took all her effort to swallow it down. When her phone rang, Kat snatched at it, desperate for the diversion. A chance to regroup and put her professional head back on.
She relayed what had happened to Mark almost robotically, her need to keep her emotions battened down drowning out everything else.
‘That was Mark,’ she told Zac once she’d ended the call. ‘Security and the police are prowling the area, but so far they’ve not found anything. The police are anxious for us to give a statement when you’re ready.’
Zac had slumped forward, forearms resting on his thighs. ‘Fine, though all I did was hide out of the way.’ His self-disgust was clear.
‘You followed my orders,’ she corrected. ‘And that helped both of us get out alive.’ Though I nearly ballsed up. Nearly got you killed. She fought the voices in her head. Later she’d give in to them, let them have their say, but for now, the man beating himself up, needed her. Walking back over to him, she placed a hand gently on his face. ‘The first time I heard a gun go off, I almost shit myself. The first time I heard the enemy firing a gun at me, I think I did.’
‘Yet you remained in the army for twelve years.’ He clasped a hand over hers, the feel of it warm and strong. ‘You’re incredible, Kat Parker.’
The sincerity in his eyes made her heart bounce, but he didn’t know the full story. ‘I’m a long, long way from incredible,’ she told him, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. ‘Some people would argue that making magic on the big screen, bringing so much depth and warmth to a character that people flock to part with their money to watch you, is incredible.’
He dismissed her words with a slow shake of the head. ‘I don’t care about some people. I care about you, and what you think.’
‘I—’
He’d never know what she would have said, because there was a sharp knock on the door, followed by an authoritative female voice. ‘It’s DS Spencer. Can I come in?’
Giving Kat an ironic smile, Zac went to open the door.
I think you’re spell binding. That’s what she’d have told him.
And I’m desperately trying not to fall for you. That’s what she’d have kept to herself.
***
As Kat did her usual recce of the studio grounds and car park the following day before she was due to pick Zac up, she had a fleeting glimpse of a female figure sitting in a car. It was unusual because with six acres of gorgeous grounds, workers at Pinewood usually went outside to think, or for some peace and quiet. They didn’t sit in their car on a sunny day in the middle of July.
Security at the gate confirmed they’d let her in because her ID card had shown she was staff, yet when she asked them to check the plate, they were puzzled to see the car wasn’t registered.
As suspicious as Kat now, they agreed to call the police.
Ten minutes later, the woman in the car was arrested.
Not only did she fit the image of the photofit, in her handbag was a note, signed with a lipstick kiss. It read, Now I want to meet you in person.
The conviction that they’d found the shooter was strengthened when the police discovered a gun hidden in a drawer in her house. The fired bullet had yet to be discovered, but all the evidence pointed in one direction.
The danger was over. Zac’s stalker had finally been found.
Chapter 21
He didn’t have a stalker anymore. It was official.
Yesterday evening, when Kat had told him they’d arrested a woman that fitted his stalker’s description in the car park, Zac’s relief had been tempered; arrested didn’t mean they had their woman.
This morning, when he bumped into Kat in the kitchen, she had better news.
The woman had confe
ssed to stalking him.
‘Why?’ It was the question that had hovered in his mind for the last four weeks.
‘The official line from her is that she wanted to get close to you. She took the job as a waitress so she could meet you, then got royally hacked off when you flirted with Hannah. After that she set out to make sure you took notice of her.’
He supposed it made sense. ‘And unofficially?’
‘She’s got a screw loose.’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘Are you saying a woman needs to be mentally unstable to want to get close to me?’
The wary glance she gave him made his insides sigh. After the way she’d held a palm to his cheek and kissed his knuckles yesterday, his hopes had foolishly started to rise.
‘You know I’m not saying that,’ she replied, taking the milk and butter out of the fridge. ‘Stop trying to trip me up. I said the woman’s got a screw loose because this isn’t the first time she’s stalked an actor.’
‘I’m not special then?’
Kat heaved out a sigh. ‘Oh for pity’s sake, cut the crap. You should be happy. This is good news. Jerry wants to see us to review the situation, now the danger is likely over.’
Slowly her words began to fully sink in. He was no longer in danger. He could go back to his apartment, back to living his life the way it had been, without fear, without restrictions.
So why was he not excited? Why did it suddenly feel as if all the joy had been sucked from him?
He forced himself to smile. ‘I guess that means you lose your annoying house guest.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Only maybe?’ And damn it, there it was, that slippery hope. ‘Are you planning on kidnapping me?’
‘In your dreams, sunshine.’ Sighing, she went to fill up the kettle and load up the toaster. ‘We need to talk to Jerry and Mark, but I’m not comfortable assuming the shooter and the stalker are the same person.’
Up Close and Personal Page 17
