Muscle for Hire

by Lexxie Couper

  She swallowed. Aslin could see her throat work. And then she turned and looked up at him with eyes that shone with a bone-deep grief he knew he could never truly fathom. A grief he wanted to take away from her. “So he hides behind the laughter. It protects him.”

  “And what protects you?”

  She caught her bottom lip with her teeth at Aslin’s low question. “I don’t need protecting.”

  He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until every moment of pain and agony and fear in her soul was gone.

  Instead, he tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his face.

  “Please don’t,” she whispered. A second later, she rose onto tip toe and placed her lips on his.

  The kiss was simple and gentle and over before Aslin could slide his arms around her body. But it was enough. Enough for him to know he was never letting this woman go. Whether she liked it or not, he was protecting her for the rest of her life.

  “I love this place.” Chris suddenly appeared at their side, his grin wide. “Where else in the world can you order the country’s national emblem for lunch?”

  Rowan pulled away from Aslin, her cheeks pink, her gaze shifting from Aslin’s. “I still can’t believe you ate kangaroo. Have you no heart.”

  “I did eat kangaroo.” Chris rubbed at his stomach as they walked from the restaurant out on the esplanade. “And it was delicious. Grilled to perfection.” He nudged his sister with his shoulder. “You know what makes the whole thing ironic though, sis?”

  Rowan cast him a dubious look.

  “I’m getting my photo taken tomorrow at the zoo with a kangaroo. A live one.”

  Rowan let out a groan. “Oh God, you’re going to burn in Hell. You know that, r—”

  “Chris Huntley!” A high-pitched squeal cut her short. “Look, it’s Chris Huntley!”

  Chris burst out laughing. Rowan groaned again, and Aslin prepared himself for the group of teenage girls—all dressed in school uniform—frozen to the spot a few feet away, their enrapt stares locked on the actor.

  Fifteen minutes later, during which Chris signed everything thrust at him by the girls, along with posing for so many photos Aslin lost track, Rowan gave Aslin a quick glance.

  “This is all your fault,” she muttered, her arms folded over her breasts.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “He feels safe with you around. It’s the only reason I can come up with for his behaviour. Normally he tries to avoid this kind of thing. He’d never admit it, but it makes him nervous.”

  Aslin looked back at the young man surrounded by giggling teenage girls and tried to imagine what it would be like to exist as a sitcom star in a world filled with such personal horror. He couldn’t do it.

  “Thank you for that,” Rowan murmured. She frowned up at him. “I think.”

  The sound of a car horn behind them made them both jump. Aslin bit back a growl. He’d never been so disconnected to his surroundings as he’d been today. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was thoroughly distracted.

  Huh. That’s an understatement, boyo.

  “Nigel wants Chris back on set, Rowan,” Jeff called from the open driver’s side window of the SUV they’d arrived in. “Said there’s been a problem with the dormitory scene and he needs to reshoot something.”

  It took Aslin roughly five minutes to extract Chris from the school girls, who all giggled and blushed their way through goodbyes and thank yous to the actor.

  “That was fun.” Chris grinned in the backseat, fifteen minutes later. “Let’s do it again tomorrow.”

  Aslin couldn’t help but smile. It had been fun. And he was enjoying himself so much more than he expected. Even when he received a call from Nick—the singer wondering what the hell he’d been thinking letting Holston catch him “with a handful”—Aslin couldn’t stop the warm happiness making itself at home in his chest.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Nigel demanded the moment they walked onto the film set.

  “Eating,” Chris shot back. “Got a problem with that, take it up with Aslin.”

  The director threw up his hands. “I think I liked it better when you were in awe of him. Or trying to break your hand on his jaw. Can we start now?”

  Grinning, Chris tossed his wallet and phone at Rowan. “Take care of that for me, sis?”

  Aslin watched her snatch the items from the air, even as she pulled a face at her brother. “I liked you better when you were a snot-nosed kid.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Chris smirked. “Now shut up and let me do my thing.”

  “God, you’re pathetic.” Rowan turned and crossed to Chris’s chair and dropped into it with a chuckle. “Remind me to beat the crap out of you later.”

  As before, people came running from everywhere, flooding the set with sound and movement. It was such a different soundtrack to what Aslin was used to. He stood back, watching it all. Taking it all in. Listening to it all.

  Which was the only reason he heard the splintering wood behind him. The only reason he spun in time to see the large beam erected across the back of the dormitory set crack.

  The only reason he was able to slam into Rowan before the beam split in two and smashed to the ground, crushing Chris’s chair.

  Chapter Nine

  “Why the fuck won’t anyone listen to me?” Rowan ground her teeth. She squeezed the ice pack in her hand, damn near close to throwing it across the dormitory. “I’m fine.” She looked up from where she sat in Nigel’s chair, now up-righted after being knocked over by the falling beam.

  Everyone looking at her wore worried frowns. Chris hovered over her like a nervous mother hen. “Sis,” he began.

  “Really—” she raised her hand and offered him the ice pack, “—I’m fine.”

  His frown deepened before he turned to Aslin. “I don’t believe her.”

  The Brit stood silent directly in front of Rowan, his eyes flinty. What he was angry about, Rowan couldn’t fathom.

  Behind her, film crew swarmed like frantic bees over the wreckage. She could hear their hushed voices and hissed expletives as they inspected the mess. She heard Warren bark an order at one of the grips, something about, “doing it right the first time, dickwad.”

  “Put the ice pack on your head, Rowie,” Chris told her, refusing to take it. “Jesus, I can see the crack in the ground where your head hit it.”

  Beside Chris, equally as worried judging by the furrows in his brow, Nigel let out a strangled chuckle.

  Rowan glared at them both. “I already told you. My head didn’t hit the ground. It hit Aslin’s shoulder or biceps or something.”

  At the mention of Aslin’s name, Chris grabbed the still-silent man’s left hand and shook it. Fast. “You saved my sister, dude. Jesus, you saved my sister.”

  Aslin didn’t say a word. He studied Chris for a second before moving his unwavering inspection to the crew and wreckage behind Rowan.

  Rowan’s stomach rolled. She’d never seen such an intense expression. Like he was dissecting everything with his gaze.

  “I still want to know how it happened.” Nigel frowned some more. “McCreedy!” His shout rose over the commotion. “Get over here.”

  The gathering crew shuffled aside, making room for the key grip. Except for Aslin, Rowan noticed. Aslin didn’t move an inch.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Nigel demanded. The pinning glare that had cemented his reputation as a formidable director locked on Warren. “Your guys checked the support structure this morning, right?”

  Warren nodded. “All I can figure out is there was a hairline split in the wood, Mr. McQueen. I checked everything myself during lunch, and it was all sound.” He scratched at his cheek and Rowan scrunched up her face at the rank B.O. that assaulted her nose. “The lighting crew was working around the same area yesterday.” He shrugged. “Maybe—”

  “There was that freaky woman with the red hair in here too,” Tilly piped up.
“The one Mr. Rhodes caught trying to get into Mr. Huntley’s trailer.”

  Chris’s eyebrow shot up. “What woman?”

  Nigel dragged his hands through his hair. “Damn it. What the fuck is security doing?”

  “Are you gonna call the cops?” Warren asked.

  Rowan let out an exasperated breath. “Don’t you think the question should be who’s trying to hurt Chris?”

  “Me?” Chris snorted. “Who the fuck wants to hurt me?”

  Nigel’s face drained of blood. “Christ, do you think…”

  Rowan’s pulse pounded fast in her throat. “Yes, I do think. First the steps on his trailer were deliberately tampered with, and now the beam above his chair falls down?” She gave the director a pointed look. “It doesn’t take a genius to—”

  “Chris is right,” Warren cut her off. “Who would wanna hurt him?”

  Rowan snapped her glare to his face. “A crazed fan? A pissed-off friend?”

  “Okay, Rowie.” Chris stepped forward and directed her hand—still gripping the ice pack—to the back of her head. “That’s enough.”

  “My head doesn’t hurt!”

  Silenced slammed over the set at her shout. Everyone stared at her. Everyone.

  “Let’s go, Rowan.”

  It was Aslin’s voice that broke the shocked silence. Calm, but commanding.

  She glared up at him, the sight of his unwavering focus on her face sparking jolts of anger in her gut. “Where? Away? So whoever it is who is trying to get at my brother can make another attempt?”

  “Rowie—”

  “Now, Rowan,” Aslin spoke again, as if she hadn’t uttered a word. He leant forward, wrapped her free hand in a firm grip and pulled her to her feet.

  The crowd parted like a wave. Which irritated Rowan more. Since when had Aslin Rhodes become the damn commanding officer of the film set?

  “Let me go, Rhodes.”

  “Shut it, Hemsworth.” He turned and began walking away, pulling her behind him.

  For a split second, the urge to throw herself into a reverse spinning kick and slam her heel into his shoulder stole through her. She curled her fingers into tight fists and tensed.

  A heartbeat before Aslin turned to stare straight into her eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

  Rowan’s mouth dried at the barely contained menace in his gaze.

  Without waiting for her to respond, he turned and continued walking from the set. He didn’t stop, or talk to anyone—including her—until they reached the door of a trailer located next to Chris’s.

  Rowan frowned. “Whose trailer is this?”

  “Mine.”

  His answer was a low growl. He pulled a key from his hip pocket, unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  “Yours? Since when do you have a trailer?”

  He shot her a look over his shoulder. “Since one p.m. today.”

  And with that terse answer, he crossed the threshold, dragging her behind him.

  The interior wasn’t as luxurious or extravagant as Chris’s, nor was there anything to indicate Aslin had spent any time in it. Tiny specks of dust danced on the air, picked out by the sun streaming through the narrow windows lining the walls. Rowan took it all in. “Homey,” she muttered.

  “It needs a woman’s touch.”

  She snorted at Aslin’s unexpected dry comeback, rubbing her wrist when he released it.

  “Sit.”

  His one-word command made her spine stiffen. “I’m not a—”

  Piercing brown eyes locked on her face. “Sit, Rowan. Now.”

  She plopped onto the edge of the nearest seat.

  “Good. Now put the ice pack on the back of your head and listen to me.”

  She scowled at his order. “Aslin, we should be back on set. Chris—”

  “Is fine.” He pulled the door closed and leant against the bench beside it, folding his arms across his massive chest. “After the incident with the red-head yesterday I spoke to the head of security this morning and arranged a bodyguard. Someone I worked with often when Nick did high-risk public appearances in Sydney. Your brother won’t even know Liev’s here, but he’ll be protected. The more pressing matter I’m concerned with is who is trying to harm you.”

  Rowan’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

  Aslin’s eye narrowed. “I know you’re in shock from the accident, but I have to be blunt, and for that I’m sorry.”

  “In shock?” Rowan shook her head. “I’m not in shock. I’m furious. Someone is targeting my brother and you drag me away?”

  “I told you, he’s now well protected. And in my opinion, he isn’t the target.”

  “Why would I be the target?”

  Aslin levered off the wall and destroyed the small space between them in two strides. He lowered into a deep crouch, drawing his gaze level with hers. “Think about it, Rowan. Chris didn’t sit in that chair once for the duration of the shoot. Not once. You were in it all morning. And again when Nigel called Chris back. And your bag was outside his trailer next to the steps. We both know they were tampered with, and I suspect it was by someone hoping you’d come out to retrieve your bag.”

  A cold fist sank into Rowan’s chest and squeezed her heart. She stared at Aslin, her lips tingling. “You’re insane.”

  His nostrils flared, the only reaction to her incredulous accusation. “No. I’m worried.”

  “About me? Forget it. You don’t have to be. For two reasons. One, your theory is loco, and two, I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself.”

  Aslin’s jaw bunched. “So you’re ignoring the evidence?”

  Rowan threw up her hands. The ice pack in her grip was no longer chilly and she squeezed it tight in an effort not to toss it at the irritating Brit. “I am. Because it’s ridiculous. Now call off your muscle and let me go back to my brother.”

  “I can’t do that, Rowan.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Why not? Are you going to give me some macho bullshit reason about me being weak and defenseless and needing someone like you to look after me?”

  He shook his head. “No, I can’t do that because of this.”

  He snared the hair at the nape of her neck and crushed her lips with his.

  She froze. For exactly two heartbeats. And then she slammed her palms into his chest and shoved him backward.

  He didn’t land on his ass like she’d hoped. Instead, he recovered with nimble grace to stare down at her.

  She looked up at him, her pulse wild, her belly churning. Her lips throbbed from his kiss, as did the junction of her thighs. A wicked, greedy, constricting heat that told her just how quickly and powerfully her body reacted to his. “S-so, you can’t let me go back to Chris because you want to kiss me? Where’s your control, Rhodes?”

  “Rowan.” Her name was a low growl on his lips. His jaw bunched at her taunt. “I think someone is trying to hurt you.”

  “And that’s why you kissed me?”

  He let out a ragged breath and ploughed his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, woman. You’re infuriating. I kissed you because what happened back on set scared the sodding shit out of me. You could have been killed.”

  Scared.

  The single word tore at Rowan’s senses. She stared at him, her throat so tight she could barely draw breath. She’d only known Aslin for a short time, but she had little doubt nothing scared him.

  Until now.

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe someone is trying to hurt me.”

  “And I can’t believe you refuse to even consider it.”

  “Why would I? I haven’t done anything.”

  “Except guide Chris, look out for him when others would take advantage of him?”

  Rowan snorted. “And you think that’s it? Not the crazy fan you caught this morning trying to get to him?”

  “It’s a theory.”

  “It’s a stupid one.”

  Aslin crossed his massive arms over his massive chest. “I hope so. But my gut tells me otherwise.”


  “Then your gut has shit for brains.”

  “Thank you, John Cusack.”

  Rowan blinked. “How did you know I was quoting a movie?”

  It was Aslin’s turn to snort. “I don’t live in a vacuum, Rowan. I do have a life you know.”

  “Really? And here I was thinking you just follow a rock star around all the time.”

  The corners of his lips twitched. “It pays well. Now I think I might just follow you around all the time.”

  She snarled. “Just try it, buster.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve got to do something. You’re too sodding stubborn to listen to reason. At least if I’m tailing you I can protect you from—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She leapt from her seat and slammed her shoulder into his gut. He let out a strangled oof, his back smashing into the door behind him.

  The vibration shook all the way through him into Rowan’s body. She jerked back, preparing to smack her fist into his jaw. Fury roared through her. Hot and encompassing.

  “I don’t need to be protected,” she snapped, glaring at him. “I’m not defenseless. I’m not weak.”

  Aslin straightened, and it was as if she’d never barged into him. “No, you’re not weak or defenseless, Rowan. But I’ll be damned if I’ll be that scared again.”

  She ground her teeth, her nails driving into her palms. “Then fuck off. Find someone else to play super-soldier around.”

  Black fire flared in his dark eyes. “I don’t want someone else.”

  “Well, you can’t have me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The word sliced through the trailer’s air a second before Aslin snatched her wrist from her side and yanked her to his chest.

  His mouth captured hers, savage and brutal. His tongue swiped over her lips, her teeth, stroking her tongue with dominating purpose. The effect on her body was instantaneous. She whimpered. Liquid heat flowed through her core, pooling in her sex. Her nipples hardened until they were twin points of aching need.

  He deepened the kiss, taking possession of her mouth and pleasure. She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t fight him. She didn’t want to. Not anymore. Hell could rise up and damn them all, but Rowan wouldn’t care. As long as she was in Aslin’s strong arms, being kissed by him, worshipped by him.