Page 32 of The Walk of Fame


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He swore and grabbed her round the waist as she put her feet on the floor. ‘Stop being so defensive. It’s nothing like that.’ He folded her in his arms, hugging her tight and making it impossible for her to go anywhere. ‘You’re sweet and surprising and sexy as hell and I like spending time with you. Especially in bed.’

Juno felt warmth spread through her at his easy compliments and wanted to kick herself. How pathetic that she should be so grateful for any scrap he was willing to throw her way.

‘So why do you care about my past?’ It hadn’t been part of their deal. She’d persuaded herself she could handle the intimacy, but this felt like more than she’d bargained for.

His chest rose against her back in a heavy sigh. ‘Maybe I’m simply curious, or maybe it’s because I’m an actor and knowing people, understanding their emotions, figuring out what makes them tick is part of my job.’

She tried to shrug off his arms, but the hug only tightened.

Her temper spiked. ‘I’m not talking about my past just because it’s your job to be a nosy parker.’

He chuckled, making her temper spike some more.

‘How about I ask you another question, then?’ he said, his lips teasing her ear lobe. ‘If what happened to you six years ago doesn’t matter any more, why won’t you tell me about it?’

She stopped struggling, her temper deserting her when she needed it most.

Why couldn’t she tell him about it?

‘The fact that you’re so damn secretive makes it seem like it does matter,’ he continued, the teasing note gone from his voice. ‘And that’s what’s bugging me.’

She didn’t know what to say to him. It didn’t matter, but she still didn’t want to tell him about it. And the reason why was simple. She was deeply ashamed of what had happened six years ago. Of how naïve and immature she’d been. And she didn’t want Mac to judge her.

Which was ludicrous. This was just a casual fling. Two weeks from now she’d leave his home and probably never see him again. Why should she care what Mac Brody thought of her?

Her heart thumped hard against her chest. Blast. She’d have to tell him about Tony. Because if she didn’t she’d be admitting to herself, not only that Tony still had the power to hurt her, but that Mac could too.

‘I need a shower first,’ she said grudgingly. She felt exposed enough already; she wasn’t talking about this naked.

He gave her a final squeeze, then let her go. ‘Go right ahead,’ he said, sounding suspiciously pleased with himself. ‘How about I rustle us up that proper breakfast you mentioned? I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite myself.’

‘All right,’ she said grudgingly, her own appetite as good as gone.

Following the smell of frying bacon, Juno stopped in the kitchen doorway and held back a sigh. Mac stood in front of the stove, dressed only in a pair of worn jeans, his T-shirt draped over a chair. He looked like a female fantasy come to life as he transferred bacon onto plates already piled high with eggs and toasted muffins.

Goodness, was it any wonder he’d manipulated her so easily? Just remembering what he’d done to her this morning had made her feel shaky in the shower. The man had the ability to make any woman lose her grip on reality. Once she’d got this humiliating ordeal out of the way she’d make sure she was more careful next time. Pheromones were dangerous things, and Mac had a devastating effect on hers.

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You want to grab some cutlery? It’s in the top drawer.’

‘Okay,’ she said, her mouth going dry. She never would have expected him to cook for her. No man had ever cooked for her before. She pulled the cutlery out of the drawer and pretended not to notice the rapid ticks of her heartbeat. Maybe he’d forgotten what they’d agreed to talk about. The more she’d thought about it, the more it seemed odd that he would even want to know about the girl she’d been. Let alone be interested in discussing it.

He slid the plates onto the table and nodded at one of the chairs. ‘Take a seat. We should eat it before it gets cold.’

‘I’m impressed,’ she remarked, her mouth watering at the lavish breakfast he’d cooked. She sat down and picked up her fork. ‘This looks delicious.’

If he wasn’t going to mention it, she certainly didn’t plan to.

He held up the coffee pot. ‘You want a cup?’

‘Yes, please,’ she said, starting to relax. The salty aroma of the bacon made her stomach growl as she took a bite. ‘This beats muesli any day.’

By the time she’d polished off the meal she was feeling almost mellow, sure that he’d forgotten about their agreement in the bedroom.

Seeing he was already finished and nursing another cup of coffee, she picked up his plate. ‘How about I wash up?’

‘No need,’ he said, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. ‘I have a cleaning service. They’ll get to it this afternoon.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She put the plates into the sink.

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