by Malone, Nana
Screw what Ryan wanted. She had to talk to Charles. He won’t believe you. She had to do something. Because rehearsals would be going for weeks and there was no way she’d survive having to stare into his eyes every day. Even she wasn’t that strong.
When the car pulled up to the glass-and-chrome building on the South Bank, Imani peered up at London’s perpetual gray sky. If she craned her head to the left, she could see the London Eye and Westminster. Restaurants and pubs dotted the street, as did boutiques and several corner shops. Behind the sleek, modern building she could clearly see the Thames River with the barges and houseboats floating along. She knew the area well. Just down the way a little bit was the National Theater.
Xander tapped her knee, then immediately yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned. With a tight smile, he cocked his head. “C’mon, let’s go in. We can get you settled, then I’ll send someone to your flat to get anything you need.” He slid out of the car and held a hand out to her, then obviously thought better of it and just stepped aside giving her room.
As she slid out, she glanced up again. “Where are we?”
“My flat.” He said it slowly like he was talking to a child or an imbecile. “Remember? You agreed to this.”
Funny, jackass. “This isn’t Notting Hill.”
“Oh,” he muttered and glanced down at his shoes. “I don’t live there…” His voice trailed off.
It only took a moment for reality to dawn. “Right.” Apparently that was just his fuck pad. Fantastic. What did she even know about this guy besides his name?
Once in the elevator, he touched her elbow gently. “Having second thoughts?”
Yes. No. She needed the money and living with him for a couple of weeks wouldn’t kill her. Sex wasn’t part of the bargain, so she could do this. “It’s not that. I’m just realizing I don’t know anything about you besides your name.” She frowned, “Or is that a fake placeholder one too?”
He smirked and Imani forgot to breathe for two beats. “It’s Alexander Andrew Chase.”
She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Imani Leah Brooks.”
He considered for a moment. “Leah, I like it.”
“Looks like we’re doing everything a little backwards.”
His grin flashed and her belly flipped. God, that should be outlawed. He looked so boyish and teasing when he smiled like that. Granted, she also liked the intense version of him very much. She admonished herself as heat pooled between her thighs. That was so not happening.
“Imani?”
She blinked up at him in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Did you hear me?”
Damn it, had he been talking while she ogled him? “Sorry. Just daydreaming. What did you say?”
He looked her up and down. His voice dropped low when he spoke. “Just what were you thinking about, exactly?”
“Oh my God, would you stop with the patented Xander Chase seduction voice? It’s distracting.”
He laughed. “I should have my seduction patented? Wicked. Unlike my brother, I don’t have patents. I’ve always wanted one of my own. So you want to explain just how distracting I am?”
“And swell up you’re enormous head any more? No. I do not.” She laughed.
He cocked his head and winked at her. “Which head would you be talking about?”
Imani covered her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
His laugh made her want to melt into a pile of goo, but she steeled herself against it. If she were going to make it for the next few days with him, she’d have to get used to it.
The elevator let them out on the penthouse level and her breath caught. For starters, the place was huge. So much room she could probably even lose him in there. Everything was hypermodern from the low chairs and chrome fixtures to the white, gray and black palette for all the furniture. But he’d added warmth with the pictures on the walls and the accessories.
The pillows and throw rugs contained an eclectic mix of African, Middle Eastern, and Asian influences. The photos were simply exquisite. Like the accessories, the walls were an eclectic mix of photos from all around the world. “My God, Xander. This is amazing.” There were mostly stunning landscapes, but quite a few candid portraits as well. He also peppered in some abstract work.
A light flush stained his cheeks. “Uh, glad you like it. Just bits and bobs from the places I’ve been. And my favorite photographs.”
“It’s perfect.” She could probably spend days just studying the photos on the walls.
He cleared his throat. “There are two master bedrooms down here and two smaller bedrooms upstairs. I’ll put you in one of the masters if that’s okay. There’s more than enough room. No need for us to be on top of each other.”
Her lips twitched and she couldn’t help herself. “That’s what she said.”
Xander blinked at her once, then again. Then the sound of his laugh ricocheted off the walls of the flat. “Oh my God, I am engaged to a twelve-year-old boy.”
She looked down at her body. “With tits.”
His gaze flickered to her chest, then back to her face again. “You are probably going to be the death of me.”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “So what are my chances that you’ve got a bus schedule around here somewhere? Or can you tell me which way is the nearest tube station? I’ve got to start with some logistics of getting around to rehearsals now that I’ll be staying here.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have a car service take you.”
“You’re kidding, right? I take the bus all the time. The tube too. It’s perfectly safe. If it’s going to be past midnight, I’ll call a mini cab or something.”
He frowned, then folded his arms over his chest. She’d seen that look before. He had no intention on budging. It was the look he’d given her at rehearsal that day. “You’ll take a car. It’s safer, and more convenient for you.”
“I appreciate it. I do. But honestly, I need to figure out how I’m going to do things on my own.”
“You forget you’re playing the part of my fiancée right? And it looks bad if I’ve got you hopping on the bus.”
“Oh come on. That’s just some elitist bullshit.”
He stepped into her space, crowding her. “You realize that the paparazzi can follow you onto a train and there’ll be no getting away from them? Same with a bus.”
“Oh come on, you said it yourself. There should be minimal paparazzi.”
“Why are you being so stubborn about this? Why can’t you just do what I ask?”
Imani jutted her chin out. “Because I don’t like to be told what to do. This is my independence you’re talking about. I need freedom to move about. Go out with the cast, that sort of thing.”
The frown lines on his forehead deepened. “You mean go out with Ryan?”
She would rather be flayed alive, but she wasn’t giving him any more reason to throw his weight around. “Who I go out with is none of your business.”
“It is for the next couple of weeks.”
They were nearly chest to chest now, both of their breathing choppy and uneven. His gaze dipped to her lips. And she licked them in automatic subconscious response. Xander’s pupils dilated and for a long moment he stilled on the precipice of giving her a kiss.
But then he lifted his head and took a very deliberate step backward. His gaze shifted to her eyes and he swallowed. “Please. I’m asking nicely.”
His clear, gray gaze implored her. “Fine. If it will get you off my case.” If this battle of wills was any indication, then it was going to be a long two weeks.
#
Imani tapped her foot impatiently outside of the rehearsal hall. She'd been trying to reach Charles for two days since she got back, but he hadn’t had any time to meet until now, an hour before she was supposed to go on and rehearse with Ryan.
"Imani, I'm so sorry I couldn't meet until now. As you can imagine, there is a lot of press surrounding the show, so I’ve been working with mar
keting and PR. How is my star doing?"
"Hi, Charles. Is there any way we can go in to chat for a minute?"
"Sure." He led her in and turned on the lights illuminating the stage. There was something about seeing the spotlight on the stage that always relaxed her. It was the one place she felt like home. Like she could explore every single thing she was feeling in a safe way. In real life she had generally learned to block out the less pleasant emotions by working hard and burying them deep.
Once they were seated in one of the center rows, he asked, "What’s going on with you, Imani? Normally you don’t let an upcoming show stress you out.”
"Who says I’m stressed?"
He raised a brow. "Besides being your advisor, I saw your audition tape. I hand-selected you to be in the program. I fought for you to stay. I know you."
She sighed. Not as well as he thought he did. "Okay, I'm sorry to have to come to you with this, but—" She paused, trying to find the best words to use. "Ryan and I, we—”
His smile was fatherly and endearing when he interrupted her. “You used to go out? Imani, I know that already. You two were very discreet at the time and I figured it was none of my business if it didn't interfere with your studies or your performance. And to be honest, he told me about it when I cast him. He didn’t want there to be any tension between you two."
Ryan had preempted her? What had the sack of lying, festering shit said? "I didn't know he'd already spoken to you."
"Yes, he explained that your relationship was...volatile, but that you had mostly worked through your issues and you'd be able to work together."
No, they would not be able to work together. She ground her teeth as she willed her body to still. Volatile? Is that what he called it? What he'd done to her? As if they were just a passionate couple who fought?
"Charles, I assure you that I'm a professional and I can do my job. And I don't know what he told you exactly, but I have real concerns about working with him."
Her mentor's brows drew down. "I don’t understand."
"I—" She held her breath; what she said today would determine her future. Would he believe her? Maybe if she'd been the first to speak to Charles then he would be more likely to. But right now it would look like sour grapes. Or worse, like she was being a diva.
Charles would determine the trajectory of her career. A career Ryan had already started to establish. But she was smart enough to know she couldn’t be alone with the asshole. Thinking fast she said, “I just mean that given our past, to keep the rumors quiet, maybe we don’t rehearse alone. My concern is for the integrity of the show." Her throat burned with the need to say the words out loud. He raped me. He held me down when I said no and forced me to have sex with him and then he told me there was nothing I could do about it because I was his girlfriend and no one would believe me.
But she couldn’t spit out those words. Instead she spoke about the show and what it meant to her. She was a liar. But she was not going to be anyone's victim. Especially not Ryan’s. Charles studied her, but then nodded. "I can see where you’re going. A play like this, the media will be all over it if they thought you were in a romantic relationship in real life." He seemed to consider the idea. "I mean it wouldn’t really hurt if you were. It might even boost interest.”
“No.” Something vile and insidious wrapped around her spine. She would not do that. "Not going to happen, Charles. It's about the play.” Then she threw out the one thing she had in her pocket. "Besides, I'm with Xander Chase."
His brows popped up. "I was under the impression you’d only met that day."
“We were trying to keep things quiet.” Technically true. "It's been sort of whirlwind. So you see, there’s no chance of cozy publicity shots with Ryan. But I want to keep the integrity regardless."
"It's an odd request, but if I can accommodate Ryan’s private dressing room, I can do this for you. We'll have a PA on hand who can even live tweet rehearsals or whatever. Keep the social media interest up."
She breathed a small sigh of relief. Not what she'd been looking for. She should have anticipated that he would try to hamstring her ever telling anybody, but she knew what he'd done to her. She might have to work with him for the sake of her future, but she was walking in with her eyes wide open, knowing the devil she was working with. There would be no cozy rehearsals, just the two of them. And she was packing pepper spray for sure. It didn't matter what she had to do, she was never going to be that naive girl again the one who trusted so blindly. Nor was she going to roll over and play dead.
This was her show, her chance to shine. She was not going to be afraid. Not of that asshole. She was stronger than he was. She had to be.
“Thank you, Charles. I appreciate it."
The door to the hall opened and she could see the figure backlit in the doorway. Her stomach rolled and she swallowed hard. Breathe, Imani. You can do anything. You can survive anything. It was time to go to work.
Fifteen
Xander hitched his camera bag over his shoulder. “I’m telling you, she’s deliberately trying to drive me crazy.” Even though the two of them had settled into a routine over the last four days, it was hardly comfortable. He certainly wasn’t getting much sleep. He’d called Lex for support, but somehow his brother was not backing him up.
“Xan, I doubt that. I mean, what’s she doing?” Lex asked.
“For starters, she’s employing some kind of female guerrilla warfare tactics because the whole place smells like her. Everywhere I go, it’s coconut and hibiscus.” Just like his beanie cap from their first night together. It was so bad he was in a state of permanent erection with her around.
“Nefarious. She should be drawn and quartered.” Lex was no help.
“I see you don’t understand my pain. I’m telling you she’s trying to drive me slowly mad and you make jokes. You’re not here, you don’t see the bras she leaves hanging on the drying rack in the washroom. The way she walks around here half dressed, in shorts so tiny she might as well only be wearing panties.” The bras were the worst because every time he went in there to wash his workout gear, all he could think about were her C-cups.
One more thing he’d learned about her was she hated for anyone to do anything for her. She insisted on washing her own laundry instead of letting the laundry service handle it. When he left dishes in the sink, knowing that housekeeping would handle it, she went ahead and washed them. When he complained she rolled her eyes and told him it was a simple thing to do on her own. She didn’t need help for that. Even something so simple as grocery bags she insisted on carrying her fair share.
Lex’s booming laugh rang clear on the phone. “Have you tried asking her to wear more clothing when she’s walking around?”
Why would he do that? “What, are you insane? I’m not a fool. I’m just saying she’s doing it deliberately. But I can certainly enjoy the view.”
“Here’s a thought. You could try scratching the itch. You’ll certainly be more relaxed that way.”
Hell yes. “With her? Not going to happen. I need to stay focused.“
Lex merely laughed. “If you say so. Speaking of focus. Any word from LeClerc?”
“Not yet, but I should hear something soon.“
“Okay, I’ve made the final stock purchases, so I’m just waiting on your signal.”
“Cheers.” He leaned against the elevator door as he rode to the penthouse. He wondered if she’d be home already, sitting around in her shorts again showing off her lean legs and perfect behind. Rehearsals hadn’t officially started, but she’d gone in several times for wardrobe measurements. And each time she’d taken the car without too much complaint.
“Either way, this will all be over soon. And then maybe you can focus on you for a change.”
“Yeah, focus on me. Whatever that means.” The elevator bell dinged on the top floor and the doors slid open. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on, but there was no sign of her. “Oh, honey, I’m home.” He snigger
ed as he dropped his camera bag on the coffee table next to her script. He might complain to Lex, but he kind of liked the noise she brought to his environment. She was tidy, but she did have the tendency to spread. A script here, a book there. The laundry detergent in the washroom. Her scent…everywhere.
“Lex, I’m hopping off.”
“Yeah, you do that. And do try to play nice with your houseguest.”
Easier said than done.
#
There was no way Imani would get used to sleeping in the total silence of Xander's flat. His sound-proofed windows completely cancelled any street noise and it was too eerie. She also didn't want to waste electricity by sleeping with the television on. It wasn't her place, so she was trying to be a good guest. Unfortunately it meant she couldn't sleep.
Standing on tiptoe, she opened the cupboard looking for the hot cocoa. Was it this one? Maybe the one over the stove. She should have paid closer attention when he was showing her around. And she certainly wasn’t going to go and wake him up to ask.
When she finally found the damn cocoa, it was on the topmost shelf. "Fantastic."
With the tips of her fingers, she groaned as she tried to inch it off the shelf.
“Here, let me get that."
Xander’s low voice directly behind her startled her and she jumped back into his chest, sending the cocoa tipping over—spilling it over the both of them and the counter.
"Shit. Sorry." Exasperated, Imani shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I was totally trying to not wake you and now I've made a fucking mess."
He dusted cocoa out of his hair. "Relax. It's okay."
"I was really trying not to wake you up. I swear."
"It's fine, Imani. Believe me, I wasn't asleep." He gestured upward. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have startled you."
Except it wasn't fine. She was wide awake. And he was standing right in front of her, practically pressing that gorgeous, shirtless body into her. Without thinking, she reached out and dusted some of the cocoa of his pecs. It should be criminal for the man to ever put on a shirt. It took her several seconds to realize she was brushing her fingertips over his flesh and that he hadn’t moved a muscle.
