by Mia Downing
“Our brothers are friends—Chase liked that best I guess. People can believe we had a connection before and sparks flew when I came for a visit. Please don’t mention Jake.” She leaned in and kissed his lips softly, in a perfect girlfriend kiss. “Let’s go rub elbows with some talk show hosts, okay?”
“I’m sorry if I tank this interview. Just so you know ahead of time.”
She arched a surprised brow. “Do you expect to?”
He wished she smelled a little less like woman and a whole lot more like sweat or gun oil, anything but intoxicating Charlotte. “I usually interview just fine, but you’re here, and I can’t seem to think straight.”
She beamed up at him, so un-Charlotte, all girlfriend. “That’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me.”
He dipped his head closer and whispered, “I thought calling you breathtaking was up there.”
Was it the lighting, or did she just blush? “That was the sweetest thing a man has said to me while I was naked.”
He wanted to undress her in the worst way. Right now. He kissed her quickly, not daring to slip her tongue. If he did, they were staying home. “You’d better be ready for me to break another door when we get home.”
“Maybe that’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said.” She chuckled and kissed his cheek again. “Do a good job, punk. Make me proud.”
****
An hour later, Charlotte watched from the sidelines as Aaron charmed the two talk show hosts into eating out of his hand. She reminded herself, very concisely, in a mantra, that he was not her boyfriend.
This very handsome, charming, glib creature was indeed not her boyfriend. Nor was the rude, cocky punk, nor the same grateful man who explored her South Pole—God he was crazy—nor the man who chased her down the beach with a dead crab. Definitely not the man she had taught criminal things, like hotwiring cars and installing phone taps. None of them were her boyfriend, either.
Assassins didn’t have boyfriends.
But her alias, Amanda Galen, wanted that sexy hunk to be her boyfriend something fierce. Wanted to wake up in his bed every day, wanted to explore L.A. on his arm. Needed to live and breathe everything Aaron James.
The hosts—a blonde, bitchy thing and an overly tanned, older guy—took turns asking Aaron a myriad boring questions, and he made every one sound interesting. He was charming yet just cocky enough to ooze testosterone. They swooned over the long hair, and he worked in a pitch for the medieval fantasy he’d filmed in England. He danced around questions about his childhood, his past, and somehow directed them back to the spy flick. So smooth, he was.
Until Tanned Guy asked about his girlfriend with a gleam in his eye.
Aaron faltered. “We haven’t been dating long.”
The perfect boyfriend dream burst, smelling a bit like impending blown cover to Charlotte.
Blonde Bitch laughed. “I bet, not since we heard you had a fling recently with a certain sexy co-star in England.”
“Really? I didn’t realize Jason would kiss and tell.” The smile Aaron gave them bridged on panty-melting with a note of fake to it. She could almost see the sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead, despite the makeup.
Tanned Guy said, “Hopefully Jason’s publicist won’t have a heart attack with that statement.”
“Jason and I keep all of our staff linked to the best cardiologists in the world just for statements like those.” Aaron crossed his leg over his thigh and folded his hands on his lap. So at ease, though Charlotte could sense the tension rolling off his lean body. “In all seriousness, I’m glad for the friendships I made in England this past year. Grateful to ride again, though my butt didn’t agree for quite a bit.”
They laughed again. Blonde Bitch offered, “I bet you’d like a massage, Aaron. Soothe those aching muscles.” Charlotte bristled at the feral gleam in the woman’s blue eyes. She was closest to Aaron, sitting in a cream leather chair, her hand inches from his knee.
“Massages are extra, but alas, my gorgeous girlfriend won’t allow me the liberties.” Aaron swallowed, his gaze flicking to Charlotte. Poor guy, he was having scary thoughts. But he brightened and seemed to pull himself out of it. “England gave me a chance to reconnect with Amanda.”
Oh shit, no. Heads in the audience turned her way, and she prayed a camera wouldn’t follow his gaze to where she stood off to the side. She met Jake’s glare from across the set on the other side, where he played bodyguard. Though she was posing as the girlfriend, and they had a background prepared. Jake had made it quite clear earlier to Aaron that he was to steer them away from too much talk about Amanda, too.
“She someone special?” Tanned Guy glanced at her, and she kept her gaze glued on Aaron.
“Very.”
Blonde Bitch’s eyes gleamed as she circled like a shark sniffing for bloody, juicy gossip. Charlotte stiffened, hoping Aaron saw it coming, too. The bitch knew about Celia. “So then rumors of you and Celia Shaw are false?”
Christ, he hadn’t seen it coming, seeing he stiffened slightly. She had to teach the boy how to read people better. Aaron paled just a bit but let the tension roll of his shoulders with a sexy shrug. “If you believe everything you read, then Jason and I married last Christmas in Barbados. I think one tabloid reported we’re travelling to China to adopt this year.”
The crowd laughed, and Charlotte let out the breath she’d been holding.
Blonde Bitch leaned forward and gently raked Aaron’s knee and inner thigh with her blood red fingertips. “So you and Celia didn’t have an affair.”
Just lie, Aaron. No need to be a saint. Ignore her hand. She can’t hurt you.
He pursed his lips, his gaze flicking to her hand, then back up. “Celia is married.”
“Hasn’t stopped people before,” Blonde Bitch informed him, her hand caressing his leg, squeezing just a little right above his knee.
Charlotte could see him struggle for just a second. Lie or tell the truth? Jump from the chair or stay?
“I’m with Amanda.” Aaron smiled but shifted his leg so Blonde Bitch had to remove her hand, and he crossed his leg over his opposite knee. “If you knew Amanda, you’d understand. She’s special.”
“Then by all means, let’s get to know her.” Tanned Guy leapt to his feet. “Let’s bring her out here!”
Charlotte gasped as the audience roared in approval, knowing the endgame clock had just started ticking at the speed of light. Aaron jumped to his feet, covered his microphone with his hand and whispered, “No! Please, she doesn’t need publicity.”
The whole world heard though, because Aaron sucked at whispering. Tanned Guy laughed. “Who wouldn’t want to be on stage with one of America’s sexiest men?” He gestured toward himself. “And you, too, Aaron. Come on, sweetie, no need to be afraid.”
Someone pushed her from behind and the watch she wore to hide her tattoo caught on something. She struggled, that someone shoved harder, and the watchband snapped, falling from her wrist.
She fought panic as she covered her left wrist with her right hand, a strong hand on her elbow, herding her forward. Before she knew it, she was onstage, reminding herself that Aaron was not her boyfriend and when this was done, she could kill him without batting an eyelash.
Aaron shifted uneasily, a fake grin plastered on his lips as he held out a hand to her. He pulled her into his one-armed embrace, his hand shaking a little on the small of her back. He whispered softly, “I know. I’m dead.”
“So dead,” she whispered back. But she smiled and kissed him, full on the lips, one that would make Blonde Bitch green with envy. If she was going to die from a blown cover, then she would die with the world knowing he was hers. Take that, Blonde Bitch.
She ended her kiss, shook hands with both hosts, wishing she could just choke them and be done with it. Instead, she smoothed her skirt and sat on the cream couch, faking giddy and expectant. Aaron sat next to her, the picture of smug ease. His thigh trembled just a bit next to hers, betraying the d
epth of his worry, his hand fumbling for hers, squeezing.
“My. That was quite the kiss,” Blonde Bitch said, obviously envious.
“He’s quite the guy.”
“Have you seen Hidden Asset yet? Word on the street is our pretty boy is going to be a star by Monday.”
“He’s keeping it under wraps. I have to wait until the premiere tonight, like everyone else.” Charlotte wanted to pull the gun from her thigh holster. Aaron was all hers, and that bitch wanted to eat him from the toes up. Instead, Charlotte shrugged and faked love-struck. “I know the film will be wonderful, though. Aaron would make a wonderful spy.”
Aaron closed his eyes for just a moment, the fake grin still plastered, knowing exactly what she thought he’d be as a spy—dead.
“I know!” Blonde Bitch exclaimed. “The trailers are chock full of special effects and action sequences. Aaron, I hear you did some of your own stunt work for this? Shirtless, we hope?”
Aaron adjusted his jacket, fidgeting. “Some of the fight scenes and driving stunts were all mine. The action sequences were much safer with the shirt on. Gavin Scott is an incredible director, and I can’t wait to work with him on the sequel.”
“Enough action to make a real spy envious,” Charlotte murmured, unable to help herself.
She thought Aaron choked, but he hid it with a polite cough.
“But there’s a love scene, isn’t there?” Tanned Guy asked.
“Yeah,” Blonde bitch added. “A very hot, involved love scene, and it’s rumored that we get a juicy eyeful of Aaron’s fine, naked posterior. Amanda, how do you feel about that?”
She cocked a brow at Aaron. Yes, indeed. How did she feel about the world ogling Aaron’s naked ass? Her sweet punk, blushing profusely, hadn’t informed her of that tidbit.
Aaron stiffened. That woman had her hand on his thigh again. Charlotte met Blonde Bitch’s blue eyes with a challenge in hers. “The tabloids say he had an affair with that heroine, too. Seems the rags like to smear his name with whomever he has his arm linked with at that moment.”
To make a point, Charlotte let go of Aaron’s hand and linked her arm in his. She flicked a cold glare to Blonde Bitch’s hand on Aaron’s thigh, then back up. In that short span of a millisecond, she made sure Blonde Bitch had a glimpse of cold, hard, and mean. “I hope they get the facts right this time.”
“I hope so,” Blonde Bitch murmured and snatched her hand from his leg.
Charlotte immediately softened and smiled up at Aaron so the world saw love-struck Amanda. Aaron looked relieved and terrified all at the same time.
Tanned Guy couldn’t leave it alone, though. “How long have you two been dating?”
Charlotte beamed. “Not as long as we would have liked. We’re busy people, and as you stated, Aaron’s schedule will be booked to the max come Monday.” Charlotte gave Tanned Guy just a taste of cold, hard, and mean, too, before she broke into that smile Aaron called breathtaking. Move on, asshole.
Blonde Bitch gladly took the directional. “So Aaron, what’s next?”
Aaron exhaled and launched into his schedule, what they might see in spy film two, and a tease of what scripts sat on his agent’s desk. Thank goodness she’d shut that down. Celia’s husband didn’t need to be pissed off with reminders.
Across the studio, Jake caught her eye. He tapped his left wrist. She looked down at her left hand, her fingers laced in Aaron’s. She’d forgotten to keep her hand over it. Her heart skipped a beat. She was sure as shit made now. She covered her wrist with her right hand and smiled politely, but not before Blonde Bitch saw the move.
“Lovely tattoo, Amanda. I’ve wanted to get one, and that’s so unique. May I see?”
Aaron sucked in a breath as Charlotte offered her wrist, her right hand on his thigh to help her balance. His hand slid over the one on his leg and squeezed.
“Lovely,” Blonde Bitch murmured. “Did you get it for Aaron?”
“I got it to shock my brother. I’m sure he’s crawling under a desk somewhere, as we speak.” Thank God, this was taped, or her phone would be going off right now, so her dark and dangerous brother-like boss could put her ass on a plane. She didn’t dare glance at Jake. He had to be two steps from throttling her.
Tanned Guy laughed. “I’m sure he’s proud you’ve snagged one of America’s hottest bachelors.”
“My brother wouldn’t approve.”
Blonde bitch looked shocked. “Well, that’s hard to believe. My brother would dump me on Aaron’s doorstep if he had directions.”
“I’m sure Aaron would invite you in for coffee.” So Charlotte could knock her out, wrap her in a body bag and cement shoes, then dump her ass in the ocean. “If he’s home, that is. Busy, busy man.”
“I’m sure we’ll see him again soon. Aaron, promise me you’ll stop by when your next film is ready to air?” Blonde Bitch leaned in a bit closer but didn’t dare touch Aaron’s thigh this time. “I can’t wait to see who the rags will put you in bed with next. Maybe me?”
“We’ll see, Wanda.” Aaron faked a grin. “But you’ll have to fight Amanda for the privilege.”
Blonde Bitch made a show of glancing up and down Charlotte’s thin form. “Think I can take her?”
Aaron laughed, the first true, genuine laugh of the day, one that washed the tension from Charlotte’s shoulders and made her hope that the endgame hadn’t started. “I think you have a better chance of catching leprechauns under this sofa.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I didn’t have anything to do with them pulling you into the interview,” Aaron growled in Charlotte’s ear as they wound their way backstage. God help him, she couldn’t be pissed. It was hard to tell, though, because she angled her face so he couldn’t see.
It wasn’t his fault. None of it.
Jake glared from Charlotte’s other side, arms crossed over his chest. Aaron informed him, “You can’t kill me when I didn’t do a damned thing.”
“Charlotte. Speak to me, damn it. Tell me this isn’t my fault.”
She turned her head and he expected her to glare, purse her lips and tell him how his hours were numbered. She shocked the shit out of him by shrugging, her blank stare returning to straight ahead as she yanked her hand from his. She avoided Jake’s glare as well.
Well, hell. Aaron had no clue what to say to fix this. Yes, he fucked up the first part of the interview. He never fucked up interviews, but Wanda’s touch had unnerved him.
He’d been embarrassed that they knew about Celia, too. They’d been discreet that one time and had gotten a separate room at a different hotel instead of using one of theirs. But hell, Charlotte had followed them. Why not someone else? Hotel staff could have noticed… He doubted Celia leaked the news unless she was hoping to kill him or use his growing fame to spark her quieter career.
“You’re both in so much trouble,” Jake growled. He greeted the limo driver and held the door for them to slide into the back. “I can’t even begin to do damage control on this. Not for her, not for you. Christ, Aaron, you used to lie like a cheap watch as a kid.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, in case you didn’t notice.”
“If you were, I’d kick your ass.” Jake turned to Charlotte. “You okay? You did a good job handling the interview. Obviously you learned to lie as a kid.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re shaking.”
“Adrenaline.” She rested her forehead in her hand. “My watch broke on stage. Fuck, I should have covered it with makeup.”
Jake snorted, pissed as hell. “No, you should have let us remove it years ago.”
She snapped her head up, seething with anger. “I wanted one thing that was me. Abigail. One thing. You didn’t give up shit for this life, Jake Anderson. I wanted one thing besides the fucking scars.” Aaron’s heart ached for the pain in her voice, still all Amanda.
Jake sighed. “I’ll protect you.”
She closed her eyes. “Can you get them to
edit the tattoo part out? Perhaps Aaron’s agent could say something or maybe…” They all knew what she was thinking—Chase. “Never mind.”
“We’ll see, sweetheart.” Jake slid into the front and said to the driver, “Drive around the corner to the side lot. We’ll ditch the crowd, and they can go home in my car. I’ll handle it from there.”
Charlotte practically curled into a ball and stared out the window.
Double shit. Aaron expected her to rage, pull her gun and just shoot him dead, not this quiet creature staring out the window, far away in a world that didn’t have him in it.
He needed her, though, and he thought she needed him, too. He whispered softly, “Thanks for saving my ass.”
Her smile was faint. “You’re welcome.”
“Them showing your tattoo…how much trouble will you be in?”
She heaved a sigh. “Tons. Thank God, it was taping.” She glanced at him sharply. “It was a taping, right? Not live?”
“I think so.”
“If it’s live…” She shrugged and took a deep breath. “I don’t know why he sent me. He knew this was risky. Damn it, I should have just sucked up my issues, stayed home with Kate, and let Tia come guard you. But no, I have to be difficult.”
That confused him. He had thought she wanted to be here, because of what he had made her feel in England. “Why couldn’t you stay home?”
“Because, Aaron. Baggage.”
“Charlotte—”
“I don’t do children. Period. If I stayed home, I would have had to help take care of Chase and Kate’s baby. That was what we decided as a group. I don’t do babies. Tia does.”
“Charlotte,” Jake warned, temper flaring. “Maybe that’s what you want to think, but it’s not all true.”
“Shut it, Jake.” She went back to staring out the window again.
He wanted to ask so badly why she hated kids but figured he should shut it, too. Suddenly, a future with her didn’t seem quite so bright. She had lots of issues. He wanted lots of kids. It was all hopeless.
He stared at her a moment, her face so much more pale than usual. She’d had a kid at some point. She had a scar like his mom’s C-section scar from giving birth to him, since he’d been breech. His heart clenched in his chest, the muscles constricting, his lungs shutting down. No wonder she said fuck you to God. He prayed right then and there that her child hadn’t been a victim to doomsday as well.
