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“And you don’t think that by having sex, we’ll be more attracted to each other?”
Doubt flashed over her expression, but she quickly pushed it away.
“Why would it?” She cocked her head, thinking. “I’m complicated—you said so yourself. That isn’t going to change. In fact, you’ve only skimmed the surface. That’s not something you want.” Tapping a finger to her lips, she continued, “And I’m not looking for any kind of relationship. Even this friendship?” she questioned, looking at me in confirmation until I nodded. It was as good a description as any. “It’s not normal for me, and it’s not something I’m completely comfortable with.”
That surprised me. I wasn’t biased enough to think every woman wanted a gold band and white picket fence. But the thought that she, who appeared to be lonely and alone most of the time, didn’t want a friend tugged at something in me.Well, damn, I thought, realizing she was pulling me closer even while she was trying to push me away.
I shook my head. “Both of us need to think this through,” I said finally. “As much as you’re all gung ho about this, we’re both the kind of people who think things through when it comes to the major details. And despite the bull you’re trying to shovel, this isn’t going to be quick or meaningless. We both need time to wrap our heads around what this means and get to know each other, so we’re better prepared for the consequences.”
She looked like she was about to argue, but I brushed past her to make my escape, leaving her to deal with removing the plastic bags and the short walk to her bed.
Making sure I shut her door firmly behind me, I strode to the kitchen, stopping to check on the door out of our hotel rooms to ensure that the prick Oliver hadn’t gotten past security again and was trying to pick the lock or something. Finding the door secure, I practically bolted to the fridge, standing in front of the open door, letting the cool air wash over my damp clothes.
Keene’s phone call had come at the best time—or the worst. I’d gotten caught up in the moment, or the situation, or whatever. I’d forgotten I was on a job, not there to get friendly with Keene’s baby sister. Even if she was drop-dead gorgeous, had a wicked sense of humor, and a mouth that wouldn’t quit. Luckily, Keene hadn’t realized anything was amiss and had kept his questions non-invasive and to the point. Regardless, I had some major thinking to do, and I wasn’t the only one.
Finally cool, I shut the door to the refrigerator, then grabbed my laptop to open the camera software. Making sure I had good video, I checked each of the six cameras before making my way to my bedroom, needing a shower desperately. Turning the water on as hot as it could go, I placed the laptop on the counter far enough away to keep the steam from killing the technology but close enough that I could monitor it from the shower if needed.
Washing the day away, I let myself half-drown under the spray, willing myself to stop thinking. Sputtering water, I thought back to Alessia almost drowning when I walked into the bathroom. Had she been reaching for the side of the tub to stabilize herself, or had she been instinctively reaching for something else?Puzzles, I thought,I hate puzzles.
The next morning, I was no closer to resolving my feelings for Alessia or her mysterious behavior. Surprisingly, I’d slept pretty well the night before and woke early enough to get a quick workout in my room before showering. I made coffee for myself, making an iced one in a travel mug for later while I sipped the hot brew. Alessia came out a few minutes after I’d washed out my mug. She sniffed the air mournfully but said nothing as she grabbed a plain yogurt from the fridge. She was walking better than she had yesterday, still a little stiff, but her normal grace had returned a bit.
“Is that damn photographer going to make you walk barefoot again today?” I couldn’t help but ask, even knowing it wasn’t any of my business.
She shook her head as she sat on the stool and dipped a spoon into the carton. “I’m supposed to be sitting most of the day.”
“That should make things easier,” I commented. I couldn’t figure out how sitting in a chair in the middle of the woods made sense, but if it made for a better day for her, I certainly wouldn’t point it out.
She hummed, taking a bite of yogurt. I’d learned yesterday she wasn’t exactly a verbose individual in the morning, assumingly because of the lack of caffeine. I didn’t take it personally, keeping up a light conversation that didn’t make her think overly much.
We got to the set without trouble, but I noticed Oliver arguing with someone at the entrance to the estate. It was obvious he was trying to get in but wasn’t on the list. I made a mental note to keep my eyes open in case he managed to get around the security at the gate, but I hoped he’d give up and go home.
Despite my hope for a stress-free day, I quickly learned Lessia was required to sit atop a horse for the shoot—one with more hair than brains, and the half-wild beast struggled on more than one occasion to bolt, rear, and even buck Lessia off. It was apparent she had some previous horse experience because she managed to stay on his back—barely—much to Tony’s relief as he spent more time worrying about the possibility of getting the dark red gown dirty than about Lessia’s safety. As expected, Albrecht’s bodyguard came up to me mid-morning with a scowl on his face, ensuring I knew her invitation to his estate was expected immediately after the shoot was done and pretty much mandatory without coming right out and saying so. I kept my attitude in check, only nodding my agreement.
The only excitement I had for the day was when Oliver snuck through the woods and tried to insert himself into the photo crew. I’d caught sight of him almost immediately and enjoyed escorting him—with the help of a local police officer—off the property. The officer turned a blind eye toward my slightly-more-than-necessary force and warned him in broken English that if he attempted to get in again, they would arrest him. I ignored the look of absolute loathing Oliver threw my way, eager as I was to get back to Alessia. Not that I could assist her in wrangling that godforsaken horse she was on, but I felt better keeping a close eye on her regardless.
The last hour of the shoot went fairly smoothly, and the boredom Lessia had mentioned I would experience finally set in. The entire crew—minus Tony—seemed overjoyed when he finally called the set a wrap, setting off a flurry of activity. One group of people started packing up equipment, and another raked the ground, in charge of restoring the property to the way it had been before everyone arrived. Lessia practically ran into a tent when a staff member announced they would be tearing that down as soon as the camera equipment was packed.
She came out a few minutes later, wearing what I assumed was the model equivalent to traveling clothes. She wore a dark blue jumper-looking thing that left her arms and shoulders bare but clung to her breasts and torso before draping loosely down from her hips, making her legs look a mile long. A long, chunky necklace hung almost to her navel, and the wedges on her feet looked sky-high. A matching clutch completed her ensemble, aside from the black flats she held in her other hand.
“How are your feet?” I asked as she approached, ushering her to the waiting car.
“Fine. Well, as fine as they’re going to be. I brought flats for the plane but have to settle with foam inserts until then. Was that Albrecht’s guard talking to you earlier?” She hurried to the sedan, her long legs eating up the ground.
“Yeah, you still want to go over there?” I didn’t think she’d change her mind, but I could hope that common sense would kick in.
“Yep, we’re still going over there.” Her chin rose in stubbornness. “One more thing,” she said as I opened the door to let her into the car. She looked around before saying softly, “The driver is a local, so we can’t talk freely while we’re in the car. Just don’t let them separate us unless I say otherwise, and I mean it. And if I touch Karl meaningfully at all, that’s your cue to get us out of there.”
Before I could comment, she slid effortlessly into the back seat. I rolled my eyes, half thinking she was playing with me and half wondering what the hell she was mixing herself up in. I followed her into the car, seeing the travel mug I’d placed there that morning was still in its cupholder.
“Here,” I said, picking it up and shoving it at her. “I promised you this.”
She took it suspiciously, smelling the container before her eyes lit up. “Coffee?”
“I put ice in it this morning, so it’s probably watered down by now, but yeah.” I shifted in my seat at the look she gave me. The pure unshielded happiness made her look younger and made me realize yet again how guarded she normally was.
She drank the watered-down, room-temperature coffee like someone who’d been lost for a week in the desert would drink their first bottle of water. “You,” she said when she came up for air, “are a god among men.”
“No one’s said that to me outside of the bedroom before,” I quipped, then immediately wanted to slap myself.So much for staying professional, McCallister, I thought, then quickly tried to cover my mistake. “Could you even taste that?” I motioned to the now-empty container.
