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Chapter Nine

Seven long, boring days had passed since Birch ran from Allison. She thought they’d been sharing something incredible as she took out his stitches. The feelings stirred within her when she touched him were unequaled by anything she’d experienced. The way he looked at her with those dark eyes of his … Whew, it was enough to make her beg for mercy. It had felt amazing to be close to him while she took out his stitches, and when she kissed his ridged abdomen she’d had visions of him pulling her up and kissing her back. His kiss would be strong, decisive, and awe-inspiring.

No such luck. The tough man ran away from her? If he wasn’t such a tough guy and if he’d actually speak to her or look at her, she’d have teased him about it.

She’d gone on numerous long hikes and bike rides over the past week. He followed her at a distance. He must’ve had good surveillance equipment because he was never in the kitchen, gym, swimming pool, theater, library, or main areas when she was. She assumed he only ate or exercised when she was in the shower, swimming, or sleeping. Short of pounding down his bedroom door, she didn’t know how to get him to talk to her.

As she’d also respected his request and turned off her phone, she had no one to talk to. She was a social person and she was not only lonely, she wanted to be around Birch, get to know him better, convince him not all actresses would take advantage of him. It had become an obsession with her to break through his barriers. It may have been how bored she was, but she thought it was more how incredible she thought something between she and Birch could be.

Late one night, she was reading a Jennifer Youngblood novel she’d found in the library while she lay in bed. She’d left her door cracked open and she heard movement in the room next to hers. Birch’s room. Perking up, she listened intently. His door opened and closed. She set the novel down and rushed to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth, put on some cinnamon lip gloss, pulled her hair out of the ponytail and fluffed it around her shoulders. She was hurrying for the hallway when she questioned for the hundredth time why she was acting so desperate for Birch. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have many, many men after her. Why was Birch so appealing? Maybe it was just the chase, the fact that he didn’t seem enamored with her. She didn’t think she was into that scenario, but she probably should slow down and psycho-analyze herself.

Instead she tiptoed into the hallway and waited. Not only must Birch have cameras on her at all times but super-sensitive spy hearing as well. He’d know if she was out of her room and find a way to avoid her. She didn’t dare walk down the hall or stairs and scare him away so she simply waited and waited and waited. Leaning against the wall, she wondered what she was doing. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t the desperate girl trying anything to catch the guy’s eye. But what a guy it was. Birch was incredible, except for his hatred of actresses, and she was impressed with him, even ironically impressed at how good he was at avoiding her. It was past time they talked.

Finally, she heard footsteps and straightened away from the wall. There were nightlights built into the hallways but it was dim enough lighting that Birch didn’t seem to see her as he approached.

“Hey,” she said.

Birch jumped, rushed to her, and pinned her against the wall. “Are you okay? What happened?” he demanded, his body overshadowing hers as he pressed into her.

Allison couldn’t catch a breath, stunned by his quick reaction, his natural instinct to protect her, and most especially his strong, warm body pressed close. His hands clasped her shoulders and his strong chest brushed against the skin of her collar bone. Did he sleep without a shirt on? My, oh, my, he was built.

“Ally?” Birch’s voice turned tender as he stared down at her. “You’re all right?”

Allison swallowed and savored not only his nearness but his use of her nickname. “Yes, nothing’s wrong,” she squeaked out. “I wanted to talk to you. Sorry I surprised you.”

She got all kinds of bold and tenderly pressed her palms to his bare chest. The hallway was immediately full of heat and tension as sparks seemed to crackle between them. Birch pulled in and pushed out several quick breaths. He leaned closer and their bodies melded together as she ran her hands up around his neck.

Suddenly, and without any logical reason, he stepped back. Allison immediately regretted the loss of his touch. He went all military straight and asked, “What did you need? You can simply speak anywhere in the house, but the bedrooms or bathrooms, and I will hear you.”

Allison’s neck and back felt tight and achy simply watching how arrow-straight he was. She stepped into his space and he predictably went even more rigid. Why did she offend him so horribly?

“That’s what I’d like to speak to you about,” she said. “Why are you avoiding me? It’s just the two of us. Are you intent on making this whole experience miserable?”

Birch stared down at her and his jaw was tight as he spoke, “It’s better for both of us if we don’t spend too much time together.”

“Better for you, maybe,” she shot back. “I actually like spending time with you.”

He didn’t give her the courtesy of responding. His dark eyes seemed to soften, but it could’ve been a trick of the darkness.

Allison had no choice but to go for the jugular. “If you hate me so much, can’t even stand to be in my presence, why did you choose to protect me?”

“I never said I hated you.”

“Oh, excuse me. You don’t hate me but you hate all actresses.”

“I don’t hate actresses,” his voice said he was lying, “I simply have promised myself to never get involved with anyone in the movie industry and thus avoid being entangled in webs of lies, control, and manipulation.”

“You certainly think highly of yourself.” Anger filled her. What a jerk thinking that everyone in the movie industry was an unscrupulous liar. She stepped up closer to him. He didn’t back away but he did pull in a steadying breath. “Maybe I’ve promised myself I would never get involved with a military man.”

He smirked, as if she’d given him a gift. “That was smart of you. I’m below your status and pay grade. Right, Princess?”

She reared back. He really did think low of her. What had she done to warrant that? Instead of telling him she couldn’t care less about status and money she snipped back with, “You’re putting words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I am simply an idealist and most career military men that I’ve met are realists leaning toward pessimists. You being the worst pessimist I’ve ever met.” She didn’t know about his life views, but he was pessimistic toward all actresses. Yet she was generalizing just as he’d been. Isaac Jewel was a serious guy but he’d been positive and happy every interaction Allison had with him, and he lit up when his wife Cosette was close.

Birch nodded. “Yes, being shot at, bombed, and having the safety of America resting on our shoulders makes it a bit hard to live in a fairy tale.”

“You’re impossible.” She flung her hands in the air. “I can’t even talk to you.”

Birch smiled grimly and leaned forward a bit. “Exactly why I’ve kept my distance and only keep track of you through the cameras.”

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