This is completely ridiculous.She pretended for a living. She’d been a siren of the sea. A slayer of aliens. A savior of the universe. Jules could handle a little flirting and snuggling for the paparazzi’s prying camera lenses. But those roles had been on sound stages and production company lots. Boom mics hovered inches out of sight. Directors and producers made demands. They told her how to act, what to say, where to look, and how to feel. Or at least look like she was feeling.
That safety barrier didn’t exist. This was her real life.
She forced a deep breath and descended the broad white stairs from the bungalow.Time to act as cool as a cucumber.“I should be mad at you.”
Rhys smirked. “Yeah, this is my fault.”
Conscious of every step closer, she hoped he couldn’t see through the carefree air she fought to maintain. Her hair rose on a warm sea breeze. He tracked the strands then dropped his sunglasses into place.
“The reservation isn’t for another fifteen minutes. It’ll take five minutes if we go that way.” Abigail gestured toward the resort hub then fished her phone out of her bag. “Or we can take the scenic route and follow the trails.” Sidewalk paths covered with blooming flowers and rare foliage circled the resort. She held up her phone, which had a large red flower on it. “Do you want to see this?”
Rhys couldn’t look any less interested in a flower. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
“Jules doesn’t want to see it either.” Abigail beamed like the conniving sister she was. “I’ll meet you there.”
Before Jules could protest, Abigail trotted off on a mission to snap photos to add to her nature app.
He glanced past the beach. The water took on a deeper hue as the wave crashed and retreated toward the intense sky. He scanned like he always did, searching the ocean for speedboats with photogs and long-range lenses. “I haven’t heard from Sloane. Have the paparazzi arrived?”
“Not that I know of.” She forced her arms to stay at her sides. It would be so easy to protectively cross her arms and shield herself. But this man had always been a safe harbor. Mostly. Jules twisted her fingers into her skirt. “I’m really sorry that Sloane called your boss. I would never have agreed to that.”
“Sloane does what Sloane does. It’s fine, and it’s actually made Scarlett pretty happy too.”
That caught her off guard. “Why?”
“You know what Scar does. Trolling the internet all day long, hunting down the ugliness. I think she’s excited to focus on this and not a predator or money launderer who should be tracked and obliterated.” He gestured to the greenery and flowers that curled around the sidewalk. “I can stomach flowers if you want to.”
“I would much rather see if they can seat us when we arrive. Thanks for the tacos, by the way. Those mai tais packed a punch.”
Another couple approached. Rhys rested his hand on the small of her back, moving her closer as they passed. His hand fell away, but the imprint of his palm remained as they wandered toward the center of the resort.
Tiki torches danced along their path. The orange-and-red sky melted into dreamy pinks and purples. Their agreement hung awkwardly between them.
“Honestly, I don’t want you to think…” Think what? That she was using him for his body? Taking advantage of his looks when it was his brain that had saved her life then kept her safe year after year? “That I’m taking advantage of you.”
He laughed. “How the hell would you take advantage of me, Jules?”
“You know.” She stole a glance. Rhys had dark hair and beautiful eyes. He was tall, broad, and deadly and had a quiet demeanor and a mind that worked faster than anyone she’d ever known. He could recall who she’d been with and what she’d worn to any press junket, red carpet, or movie screening. Without having to think about it, Rhys could recollect what was said in any conversation. Dating him in real life might be hard. It’d be impossible to win an argument. Then again, who decided to date someone based on whether they would win a fight?
“I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“Are you dating someone in real life?” she asked.
“No.”
“Are you going to hold this over my head for years?”
“Maybe. Or maybe just Sloane and Scar.”
She laughed.
“Speaking of which…” He pulled out his buzzing cell phone and glanced at the screen. “I had a feeling this might be one of them.” Rhys pressed the phone to his ear. “Hi, Sloane.”
Jules inched closer. “Why’s she calling you and not me?”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes jumped to her and away again. “When?”
“What?” Jules gestured for the phone. “Put it on speaker.”
