by Dee J. Adams
“Hey. You’re okay,” he told her softly. “We’re not moving from this spot until a SWAT team has cleared the area.”
“How the hell are they going to do that? There are a million places the shooter could be, at any one of those houses across the canyon or just at a spot in the mountain. It’s impossible to tell.”
She had a point, but SWAT could pinpoint the location easier than she thought. Already, Troy heard the familiar whap, whap, whap of a helicopter. The shooter would have to move on eventually. A police chopper would have a spotlight scanning the area, looking for the suspect. If he fired again, the cops could close in in seconds. In the meantime, Troy had no problem with his current position.
“It’s not impossible. It may take some time, but I’ll bet as soon as they show up, the shooter will leave.” Wailing sirens got progressively louder.
“Why do you think that? Maybe he’s waiting for the second I walk inside.”
The conversation cracked him up. Here he was lying on top of the most famous actress in Hollywood and they were talking about snipers. He could think of a dozen other things he’d like to be doing. None of them required words. At least no words other than yes, more, and harder.
Speaking of harder, the longer he stayed on top of her, the more his body recognized exactly who he covered and the fact that it had been way too long since he’d been with a woman.
Her pretty blue eyes scanned his for an answer.
“I think the shooter will realize the game is over for the night and pack it in. We haven’t raised our heads, so he can’t be sure if he got you or not. Either way, he’ll find out on the news tomorrow and he’ll go from there.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” Her brows pulled together. “Didn’t need to hear that last part.”
He didn’t want to worry her, but this incident made it crystal clear that the shooting at the Sporties was no random event. Lying about her safety wouldn’t do her any good when someone wanted her dead. “Sorry, but I think you need to take this threat seriously.”
“Yeah. I think I figured that part out.” Her delivery had just the right amount of sarcasm. Troy didn’t blame her. “Besides, like we said before about truth. I’m a firm believer in truth.”
But did she believe in fidelity? In vows? In the sanctity of marriage, be it hers or someone else’s? That little tidbit was still to be determined. “Oh yeah?” he asked.
“Definitely. I’m probably honest to a fault.” Sirens blared from directly in front of the house, then shut off.
“I’ll bet you are,” he said. She seemed as wholesome as the press had made her out to be. But was it real?
“If we’re being honest, can I tell you I really hate that America’s Sweetheart label? I could strangle the reporter who gave me that. Of all the things they’ve called me over the years, why did that one have to stick?”
Interesting. Was that a little confession to let him know she wasn’t as sweet as she came off? “It’s not so bad.” His lips curled into a half smile. “You could’ve been stuck with ‘America’s Princess.’”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “That is worse.” She locked her gaze onto his, brought her hand to his face and stroked her thumb along his cheek and jaw. “Thank you. Again,” she whispered. Her hand felt so damn good as she caressed him. He lost the grin as the blood rushed south. She had to feel how much he wanted her. Every touch got his dick harder and harder against her thigh. He could kiss her now, do what he’d wanted to do since talking with her in the hospital. A scant three inches separated their lips. He might have been on top of her for her safety, but her response as she subtly shifted her legs to accommodate his weight between them and the soft touch of her fingers on his face all led to all systems go. He leaned his head down a fraction.
“Police!” a man yelled from inside the house.
Troy froze an inch from her lips and felt her heart thump hard beneath his. “Looks like the cavalry is here.”
She shook her head. “The cavalry’s been here all along.”
A primal shot of lust and heat zinged straight to his dick. He wanted her. Bad. Right now. Right here. And that just couldn’t happen. Mainly because she was under his surveillance. How the hell could he fall for the woman he was supposed to be watching? What the fuck had he been thinking a few minutes ago? Talk about divine intervention.
Only now he had a definite itch that needed scratching. He was long past the time he should’ve let off some sexual steam with one of the several—very willing—ladies from the gym, but at this point he couldn’t imagine fucking one of them without thinking of Julie, and the sleaze factor in that scenario made him shudder.
Troy heard people slowly clearing out one by one, crawling safely out the front behind police barricades. He gazed into her pretty blue eyes and he didn’t give a shit about divine intervention. The way she looked up, the very clear sign she gave him as she licked her luscious lips had every cell in his body screaming go for it. There was simply no way he could. He had a very clear line when it came to his work. No getting involved with the clients or suspected cheaters or home wreckers. Not that he’d ever been in the position before, but this couldn’t happen no matter how much he wanted it.
Why did it have to be Julie Fraser sleeping with Ari? Why couldn’t it have been a different Hollywood starlet? Some diva with an attitude who Troy didn’t admire. Someone who hadn’t faced death with a joke and an introduction.
Still, she looked up at him with a combination of humor and certainty in her expressive blue eyes. A grin curved her lips. “You like me,” she said.
The evidence was as clear as the erection in his pants. He couldn’t do much other than nod his agreement.
“I like you too,” she whispered.
Maybe if he stood up, the shooter would put him out of his misery. He didn’t see any way around it. Yeah, okay, Hollywood must have rubbed off on him in the months he’d been here, because that seemed a little overboard, but he’d never been so tempted in his life to toss his rules.
“I guess now I can get your number,” he said. He’d call too, if she turned out to be innocent in this whole mess. At the moment, there was nothing he wanted more. Just the idea of one date with her took his happy meter off the charts.
She smiled and nodded. She wanted him to kiss her. Didn’t matter that glass or cops surrounded them, or that a serious threat still lingered. The police were in no rush to get people out of the house. Their mission was to do it safely no matter how much time it took. He was stuck here with her looking up at him like he owned the world.
“Do you think the shooter left yet?” she asked.
He shrugged and shouldn’t have, because even that small movement rubbed him against her thigh and sent a missile of lust crashing in his gut. A little gasp sounded in her throat as her wide eyes looked up at him. Yeah, she knew exactly what she did to him.
“Good thing this balcony is made of adobe and not glass,” she said softly, working hard to keep the conversation going. She laughed. “Unless he has a grenade launcher. That would be bad.”
Troy nodded his agreement. “Very bad. But I think we can rule that out.”
“God, I was kidding. You make it sound like—”
“Hey, folks. You two okay?” an officer asked from inside. Dressed in all black and covered in body armor, he looked like he’d entered a war zone. Maybe he had.
Julie barely glanced at him. “Just dandy.”
Troy couldn’t help but smile at the deadpan delivery.
“Good deal. Then it’s time to get you outta there.” He tossed protective gear and a large bulletproof shield that landed next to them.
“Use that to cover yourself and move backward into the house. We’ll get you out safely from there.” He tossed out a blanket to cover the glass that littered the whole balcony. “Let her go first.”
Troy lifted an insulted eyebrow and looked down at Julie. “Did he think I’d go first?”
She let loose a long-suffering
sigh. “He clearly doesn’t know you the way I do.” Her smile lit him up. Damn.
* * *
Two days later, the shooting was still the major talk of the nation because nothing newsworthy had happened since. Julie flipped off the television, tired of watching the footage. She inspected the scabs on her hands and knees from crawling though broken glass. The paramedics on the scene had fixed her up, and she’d thankfully avoided another hospital visit. Her cuts and scrapes would heal and be long forgotten before she’d get Troy Mills out of her mind. The man was gorgeous and funny and he’d saved her life twice. If he hadn’t tackled her onto the balcony floor, she’d probably be buried by now. A big believer in signs, she took his presence as a door the universe wanted her to knock on.
This time they’d exchanged numbers. So why hadn’t he called? Because of her personality, her looks or her life? All of the above or none of the above?
She paced the house nervously and kept an eye on the clock. The sun had sunk over the mountaintop a while ago. Ari had asked to come over again because he’d wanted to avoid the prying eyes of people at a restaurant. The night she’d been discharged from the hospital, he’d canceled at the last minute, leaving Cal feeling dejected after losing her chance to talk to him about the movie. Julie had sent him an email about Cal auditioning for the role, and Ari had actually met with her. Had he made a decision? Was that why he wanted to see her in person?
Until this morning, her place had been ground zero for news vans and paparazzi. Maybe it was time to find a more secure home. She had no gate, no walls or fence to keep people out. She was in the same home she’d bought after the second season of The Only Way. She’d fallen in love with her ranch house in Fryman Canyon. The downside came with the house’s location. She had practically no front yard, and anyone could walk up and ring her bell.
Her show had been doing well enough, but it hadn’t become a major television hit until its third season. By then, she’d had the house and had made it her dream home. She couldn’t imagine building a wall or a fence and no one had seemed to care that she lived here. But she’d be an idiot not to consider more security or protection after the recent events.
It was one thing to be shot by a sniper when other people had been hit too, but it was another to be the victim of two shootings. Someone was out to kill her.
But why?
No matter how hard she wracked her brain, she couldn’t come up with someone she knew who’d want her dead. It was probably someone she didn’t know, a psycho fan maybe, but so far the police didn’t have a lot to go on. No fingerprints, no shell casings, and a person dressed in black. Just fucking dandy.
She paced the living room and glanced at the clock. She wished she’d put her foot down with Ari. She didn’t want him to think that because they’d decided to meet at her house, it gave him permission to make a move.
Why had she even agreed to meet with him? She ran her hands through her hair and took a few calming breaths. Because Ari’s script was one of the best she’d ever read. After the shooting had forced her to back out of the running weeks ago, and after her email to Ari, Cal had actually been on the short list for the job. But the director of photography had pulled out completely, causing Ari to postpone the filming. The new DP’s schedule had fit right in with Julie’s availability to start back to work.
Yes, this town constantly surprised her. She hadn’t thought she’d be in the running again so now she was up against Cal and hated it. Shades of Nowhere to Hide. Except Julie had no problems with this script. She just had problems if Ari thought she was going to sleep with him to get the part. Allowing him to come to her place would only encourage him to believe she was that kind of girl, and she categorically was not. The last thing she wanted to see was a story in a rag magazine that said she was seeing a married man. If getting this role meant putting up with Ari sitting on her sofa for a few minutes, then she’d deal with it. And if she had to toss him out because he wanted more—and lost the role because of it—then so be it.
Someone rapped at the door. Julie checked the peephole. Ari stood bathed in the white light of her front porch.
“Querida,” Ari said in his faint Spanish accent as she opened the door. “How are you?” He stepped in and kissed each cheek. The distinct scent of patchouli had her breathing through her mouth. It seemed a little stronger than usual. Did Ari think it would draw her to him? The man’s cluelessness astounded her.
“Fine. I’m fine.” She pulled away but not before she glanced outside. Ari’s limo sat right across the street, but she saw no sign of Troy. She closed the door and led Ari to her large living room. He sat on the sofa and she kept her distance by sitting in the overstuffed chair across from him.
“Julie,” he crooned. “Why so far away?” He patted the space next to him.
“Ari,” Julie warned. “We’ve talked about this. You’re a married man. You know my feelings on that.” She’d wanted him to believe it was his marital status that kept her at arm’s length. A tiny bud of fear inside her said to hold off on rejecting him for any other reason because it could mean the difference in her getting the role and not getting it. She’d learned to tread very lightly when it came to Hollywood.
He sighed. “I’ve told you my wife and I have an arrangement that is very comfortable for us.”
“It’s not comfortable for me,” she told him with a wry smile.
He grinned and leaned back on the sofa, propping his ankle over his knee. “You know why I’m here, yes?”
“I hope it’s to tell me you’ve decided I should play Elizabeth in Meltdown.”
“You’ve always been my first choice.” His eyebrows lifted. “But how will your friend Carrie Ann take the news if I say I want you to have the lead role?”
Was this a trick question? Was this Ari pretending to care about her friendship with Cal? Good God, what if Cal had slept with him in hopes of securing the role and Ari thought he could play one of them against the other? Could he be that sleazy? Would Cal have kept that sort of news from her since Ari had considered Julie for the role originally? A small part of her felt as if she might be betraying Cal. But things like this happened all the time. Start dates got pushed. Schedules changed. Financing fell through. The whole town was one gigantic crapshoot of luck and timing.
“Carrie Ann and I have been through a lot. We both understand the business. Besides, she works all the time. If she doesn’t do your film, she’ll work on someone else’s.”
“But we both know the Academy will love my film. It has everything they look for in a best picture.”
Ari did love to toot his own horn. She imagined Ari and Leo Frost duking it out in the ring for least humble. And the winner is...
“You’re right. It is a great script. Look, it’s just us, Ari. Either tell me I got it or tell me I didn’t. I can take whatever you have to dish out.”
“You’ve hit on my dilemma,” he said, leaning forward. “I had some trouble with the financing and had to do some last minute—how you say—finagling. My new partners are not sold that you are the one to play Elizabeth.”
Julie tried not to let the news depress her too much. Her mother was definitely right. She’d grown a big head in the last few years. She hadn’t even hit thirty and already her star was beginning to sputter out.
She inwardly rolled her eyes. Her mother would’ve smacked her for that last thought, especially since Julie hadn’t gone into this business for the fame.
“I can’t control what your new investors want so I guess I’ll have to wait for the decision like everyone else.” She got up from her chair. “Can I get you something to eat or drink or did you have to be going?”
Her mother would’ve smacked her again for the rudeness. But Julie wanted him out of her house. Hell, maybe she’d be better off pulling her name out of the hat completely. But she really did want to sink her teeth into this amazing character.
Ari checked his watch. “I do have to leave, but thank you for meeting with me.�
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Julie had no idea what he’d accomplished in person that he couldn’t have told her over the phone, which only led her back to her original assessment. Ari was coming over for a quick fuck as he dangled the coveted role in front of her and since she’d given him a resounding no, he had nothing to do but make up an excuse to leave.
She opened her front door and instead of walking through, Ari stopped right in front of her. Too closely in front of her. He put his hands on her arms and leaned close. Julie stiffened and pulled back slightly at her loss of personal space. He stood only a few inches taller than her, but she’d never felt more cornered.
“You and I,” Ari began. “We are much alike. We have standards and principles.”
Julie held back her snort of laughter and just watched him.
“You make me consider things I don’t normally consider,” he told her.
Like being faithful? But she couldn’t say it out loud.
Ari caught her by surprise and kissed her on the lips. Not a passionate kiss, but he planted one and kept his lips on hers for two seconds too long. He pulled back just as she was about to push him away.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“You do that.” She forced a smile before closing the door behind him with a hard thud, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Chapter Seven
Troy leaned back against the headrest of his BMW as Ari’s limo—parked only three cars in front of him—pulled away from the curb. He set his camera on the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Damn. Why’d he have to see it up close and personal? He hated this job. More than any job he’d ever had in his life. He hated Sophia Nepali for hiring him and paying so much goddamned money, and he hated Julie Fraser for having an affair with Ari.
The proof was in the pictures. He’d snapped four of them. Four perfect pictures of Ari kissing Julie.
Yeah, he hated this job.
Of course, it was a quick visit as far as fucking went, but he’d seen it before. Get in and get out. Literally. Maybe Ari had someplace to be.
