Page 18 of Charmed by You

No.

No way was he going there.

For one thing, he had no fucking idea where thatimpulse had come from.

More important, he was on a job. And even if he was warmingup to her a tiny bit, there was no way in hell he was sliding down thatslippery slope with an actress.

Then she blinked, and the moment passed, leaving Simonwondering if he’d just imagined it. “Well,” she said, “I’m glad talking aboutit helped.”

“It did. Thank you.” Once again, thoughts of Kristen filledhis head. Once again, he pushed them away. It was one thing to dredge up hischildhood. He didn’t need to dredge her up, too.

Frannie pulled her hand away, then hugged the pillow again.

“I’m a good listener,” he told her.

She looked at him with that famous half-smile, then shookher head. “I believe you. But I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I get that. I don’t know what it is. But thisreporter does. So I’d say the odds are good that he’s the one making thethreat. If that’s the case, then I need to know. It’s a hell of a lot harder tokeep you safe if I don’t know all the facts.”

“I know. But—”

“Hey,” he said, conjuring a smile. “I showed you mine. Youshow me yours.”

As he’d hoped, she laughed, and in that moment, he knew whyshe’d become a star. The sound sparkled, filling the room like the tingle ofelectricity after a lightning storm.

That’s what she was. A force of nature. And the trulybaffling thing was that he liked her. Despite her holier-than-thou attitudewhen they’d met, and despite his stepfather and his mother and all the bullshitwith Kristen, he actually liked her.

A good thing, since he was protecting her. But he needed tokeep his head.

Because even though he liked her, he knew damn good and wellthat he could never, ever trust her.

Chapter Seven

I have to give Simon credit for not pushing me.

“I don’t want to talk about it now,” I’d said. “I know itwill help you keep me safe—I really do. And I’ll tell you tomorrow after theconference. I’m only on deck in the morning. We can leave by lunch, and I’lltell you everything. I just need…” I’d sucked in a lungful of air and tried tokeep the tears at bay. “I’ve never talked about it since—well, in a really longtime. And I try not to think about it. I just need a little time. Please?Please can I have a little time?”

For a moment, I thought he was going to say no. To tell methat he had to know. That it was the only way he could do his job. But hedidn’t say that. Instead, he’d nodded, then said, “It’s okay. I’ve got yourback.”

I’ve got your back.

That was over two hours ago, and I’m still holding his wordsclose as I’m tucked up in the guest bedroom. Because the truth is, I can’tremember the last time it felt like anyone truly had my back. My agent, maybe.But that’s her job. Other than that? Well, I’ve been pretty much flying solofor years.

I think of Carolyn, my childhood bestie, and squeeze my eyesshut. I hate this. The memories that stupid reporter is dredging up. The notethat’s probably just bullshit but gets me in the gut. Fear and anger andbetrayal.

And secrets. Always secrets.

I’m surprised that I genuinely want to tell Simon tomorrow.I’ve held on to these secrets too long, and I don’t know how to let go. Butknowing that Simon will catch me…that feels pretty damn nice.

I don’t realize that I’ve gotten out of bed. I’mtired—mentally and physically exhausted—but my body has other plans, and beforeI realize it, I’m in my robe and at the door. I hesitate, then push it open,walking the short distance from my guest room to the master bedroom at the end ofthe hall. I’m hoping the door is open a crack—I can’t tell in the dimlighting—because then it’s like permission to go inside.

But it’s not. It’s closed tight, though I don’t know if it’slocked or not.

I want to turn the knob and find out, but that’s going toofar. I hesitate, letting the thought settle. With any other man, I wouldn’teven pause. I’d just turn the knob, go inside, and get into his bed. I know whatI want, after all, and I’m more than comfortable taking charge.

I close my hand around the knob, telling myself I should dojust that. I’m naked beneath the robe, and I close my eyes, feeling my bodyrespond to the thought of finding him there. Of letting the robe fall off myshoulders. Of sliding under the covers with him, my hand closing around hiscock as my lips find his.

Of taking what I want, just like I always have, thensnuggling up close and telling him my secrets.