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"Look, I get it," I say, voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "But nothing—nothing—has ever hit me like Kate has. She's under my skin, Marilyn. In my bones. And hell, if there’s even a whisper of a chance that I could cause her pain...” I shake my head, fighting the lump forming in my throat. “I couldn’t live with myself."
My gaze doesn't waver from Marilyn's, willing her to see the raw truth in my words. "Protecting her is my top priority. Not just from the camera flashes and the gossip rags." I lean forward, elbows on knees, my heart splayed open. "But from everything. From every damn shadow that dares to creep too close."
"Because that's what you do when you love someone, right? You stand guard. You fight the good fight. And yeah, maybe I can't shield her from every nasty headline, but I can be her safe place to land. That much I promise you."
utinizing eyes lock onto my own, and I can feel the weight of her suspicion hanging between us like some heavy curtain. But then, something shifts—the hardness in her gaze crumbles at the edges as she seems to really see me, maybe for the first time.
"Okay." The word is a soft exhale, almost reluctant, but it's there. "I'm watching you, Ben. Don't think for a second I won't be."
Her head tips forward in this slow, deliberate nod that feels more like a truce than any handshake could. And just like that, the ice queen melts a little, her stoic mask slipping to reveal the human underneath. It's not a smile that cracks her lips, but it's damn close. Close enough to tell me she's bought what I'm selling—for now.
"Fair," I say, holding her stare with an intensity that borders on challenging. "Watch all you want. You won't find anything less than the real deal."
It's a standoff of sorts, but not the kind that ends with pistols at dawn. More like the acknowledgment of two soldiers on opposing sides who recognize the other's commitment to their cause. It's tense, this silent accord we've struck, filled to the brim with the unsaid promises and threats that lace our every word.
"Remember, fame's a spotlight, but it burns," she warns, her voice low enough that it's meant for me and me alone.
"Then we'll dance in the shadows," I quip back, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Because hell, if life with Kate means learning a few new steps, then I'm ready to salsa, tango, and moonwalk through whatever beat comes our way.
The unspoken understanding hangs between us, dense and potent. Sure, Marilyn might have stepped back into her corner, but her eyes still pin me with all the subtlety of a hawk eyeing its prey.
But she has nothing to worry about. I’d cut out my soul before I hurt Kate.
CHAPTER
SIX
Kate
The flickering candlelight dances across his features, casting a warm glow on the planes of Ben's face. His dark eyes smolder as they latch onto mine, and I can't help but think how they remind me of a stormy night sky, deep and mysterious. The corner of his lips turns upwards in that heart-stopping half-smile he knows drives me wild.
"Kate," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine, "if looks could undress someone, I'd be naked by now."
I toss my hair over one shoulder, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Who says that's not the plan?" My words are playful, laced with the promise of what's to come.
Our table, tucked away in the corner of this high-end restaurant, feels like an island just for us—a private little universe where the buzz of the outside world fades away. As we lean in closer, the rest of the room blurs into nothingness. It’s just Ben, with his confident pilot swagger, and me, the starlet who's supposed to have it all yet only wants the man before her.
A soft melody weaves through the air, wrapping around us like a silken scarf. It's the kind of tune that makes you want to sway, to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. But I don’t dare close mine—not when I'm caught in his gaze, not when every second is a treasure.
"Is it the candlelight, or are your eyes always this sparkling?" he teases, his hand reaching across the table to find mine.
"Maybe it's the company," I counter, my pulse quickening as our fingers entwine. The music swells just a fraction, and I imagine it's the soundtrack to our own clandestine romance—a melody that speaks of longing and desire wrapped up in elegant notes.
"Or maybe," Ben continues, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand, "it's because tonight feels like the beginning of something unforgettable."
And I can't argue with that, because every nerve in my body is alight, and every beat of my heart is singing yes, this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
A ripple of laughter escapes me as Ben's latest quip has me genuinely amused. "Careful, Captain Caldwell," I tease, leaning in, my breath a whisper over the rim of my wine glass. "Flattery like that might just earn you a place in my next movie."
"Only if I get to play the dashing love interest," he shoots back, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Typecasting," I retort playfully, but the warmth in my chest blooms like the rich, red bouquet in my wine. Our banter is a dance we've perfected, each step as thrilling as the last, and I'm dizzy with delight.
A glance to the right, and I think I catch a glimpse of familiar blonde hair. My heart constricts. Please, no. Don’t let her be here.
Vanessa Williams's reputation for sniffing out secrets is infamous. She’s a cutthroat reporting who makes her living off stalking the lives of the rick and famous and violating every ounce of her privacy. I purposefully try to stay off her radar.
My eyes sweep over the room frantically, but I don’t see her. Could I be mistaken?
