by Cynthia Eden
No, he hadn’t even seen the thing. “Hathway didn’t forward it to me.” He’d correct that problem because he wanted to know more about her. He’d like to know everything about his new assistant.
“I received my undergrad at Georgia State. Studied communication and after graduation, I got plenty of high profile, hands-on experience in my field.” A brisk nod. “So I can definitely handle your social media profiles and fan interactions.” A pause. “I was told my main job was to make sure that you had time to work. That you weren’t interrupted or distracted. I can do that, I assure you.”
Doubtful considering how much she distracted him. Just being near her was making him freaking haywire. “And your boyfriend doesn’t mind you moving in with me?”
Her lashes flickered. “There is no boyfriend.”
Good. But he didn’t say that out loud. He also didn’t let his lips curve into a smile.
“And I’m assuming…” She cleared her throat. “There will be no flavors of the month who pop up out here, trying to see you? No super models or heiresses or—”
“I’m not currently seeing anyone, so, no, they won’t be popping up here. I have rules in place about my mountain retreat. I come here to be alone.” Only he wouldn’t be alone this time.
He’d be with her.
The thought wasn’t upsetting, not in the least.
They put up the dishes, and he prepared his leftover gumbo for the next day. No way did you ever let gumbo go to waste. He turned toward her. “Well, I guess this is—”
A boom of thunder echoed, and the lights shut off. The cabin plunged into darkness.
Immediately, her body brushed against his, and an odd surge of protectiveness rose within him. “It’s okay,” he rasped. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. The generator will kick on soon.”
Her hand pressed to his chest. As if touching him reassured her. If that was the case, hell, she could touch him all night long.
He found himself leaning toward her, straining to see her in the darkness. He was—
The lights flashed back on. He stared at her face. There wasn’t so much as a whisper of fear in her expression. In fact, she looked rather…fierce.
Then she blinked, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m not a big fan of storms.”
Her hand was still on his chest, and his eyes were still on her mouth. He was still leaning toward her and wanting to put his lips against hers.
No. No. That wasn’t part of the plan. Against the rules. But…
He wanted her mouth.
Hell, he wanted her.
“I should go to bed,” she murmured.
Yeah, okay, now he had that visual in his head. Julia spread out on his bed. Her hair on his pillow. Her gorgeous body naked and waiting for him. “Bed seems like a great idea.” His voice had come out as a deep rumble.
Her hand fell away from his chest. “Good night, Bran.”
Thunder boomed again.
She turned and headed away from him.
“Good night, Julia.”
He waited until she disappeared down the hallway. He didn’t hear her door shut. The thunder was booming too much. Too loudly. He yanked out his phone and called Hathway. He didn’t give a shit about what time it was. His manager answered on the second ring. Bran didn’t bother identifying himself. He simply said, “Send me her resume.”
“Julia?” Hathway sounded groggy. “Did she arrive okay? You like her? She’s got great references, and I want you to give her a chance—”
“I am giving her a chance.” Bran swore he could still feel the heat of her touch on his chest. How weird was that? “I want her resume. I want her references.” He considered the matter. “I want everything you’ve got on her.”
Static crackled. “Why? I-I checked her out for you, I promise. She’s good. She’s safe—”
“Because I want to know every secret that she has.” He couldn’t explain the dark desire he had, the compulsion to learn everything about her. It was just there. Churning inside of him. “If she’s living with me, then I have to know her.” Inside and out.
“Ah, yeah, it will take a little while…I’m, um, on some personal time, but I’ll get that to you as soon as I can.”
“I want it yesterday.”
“Jeez, man,” Hathway grumbled. “Settle down. I told you—I checked her out. She’s not some crazy chick looking to hose you. She’s not interested in your money or your fame. Hell, I don’t think she’s even a fan.”
Bran’s narrowed gaze was on the darkened hallway. Not a fan? “Why the hell not?”
“She…she doesn’t really like guys like you.”
Guys like you.
“That’s why I picked her,” Hathway rushed to add. “Because I didn’t want sex messing things up. She doesn’t like you. She doesn’t want to screw you. She just wants to do her job.”
“How do you know she doesn’t like me?” That was…not cool. Most people thought he was likable. Didn’t they?
“I know because she told me, man. I had to convince her to take the job. So don’t screw this up, got me? She’s what you need.” A sigh. “She’s exactly what you need right now. Be on your best behavior. Let her stay, and let the woman do her job.”
“Send all the material I want.” He ended the call. Gripped the phone.
Julia isn’t a fan. She had to be convinced to take the job. A slow smile curved his lips. A few moments later, he climbed the stairs, and he started to whistle a new melody, one that he knew would be perfect for the song that had stumped him all week.
***
She dreamed of fire and screams. Of flames that danced and raged and tried to trap her in hell. She dreamed of a man standing just out of reach. The man that she needed the most.
Sirens blasted at her. Hard hands reached for her, yanking her through the fire.
The greedy fire. Always stretching out. Always trying to take and take…
Always.
Julia jerked upright in bed. Sweat covered her body. Her breath panted out. Jesus. She was so sick of those memories. Sometimes, she worried they would never, ever leave her alone.
Some people thought ghosts weren’t real. They were wrong. The dead didn’t stay buried. They could come back, over and over again, and torment the hell out of you.
Clad in loose jogging shorts and her t-shirt, she climbed from the bed. There was no boom of thunder, and she didn’t hear the rain hitting the roof or the windows. The storm had passed, and from the darkness she could see outside, night still reigned. From past experience, Julia knew she wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon.
Hell, no.
She slipped from the bedroom. Hurried into the den and saw the desk that waited. And the laptop. Hathway had already given her access to all of Bran’s accounts—his passwords and log-ins, and she’d reviewed all of his messages before she’d even come to the mountain. But since she was up, why not check again?
She booted up the laptop. Slid into the chair. By habit, her right hand moved down to rub across the skin on the inside of her left wrist. Skin that was oddly soft. And a dark, dark pink.
With a little beep, the screen flashed blue, then she got the log-in prompt. A guitar filled the background of the screen. One of Bran’s signature guitars. She typed in his password, and a few moments later, she was pulling up his email. Not the general fan email, but his personal—
One new message.
As she stared at the subject of that message, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
I see you.
Her index finger clicked on the mouse, and the message opened. A photo had been attached. A photo of Bran…standing outside of his cabin. He was wearing the same clothes that he’d been wearing that night. Shit.
The stalker was there. Already in town. At the cabin. The stalker had been watching.
The stalker was hunting Bran.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the email address. She’d get her team at Wilde to follow-up on that email, do their tech magic
and see if they could track down the sender, but in the meantime…
She needed to make sure the stalker turned any rage on the right target.
Her job was to protect Bran at all costs. So that meant that any danger—it needed to come her way.
Her fingers poised over the keyboard. After a moment, Julia began to type.
I see you, too. And I’ll be coming for you. Harassment will not be tolerated.
She ended the email with…
Julia Slate, Personal Assistant to Bran Copper.
She hit send on the message.
Chapter Three
“We need to head into town and pick up some supplies.” Bran scraped a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “I ordered enough for me, but now that I have company, I should pick up a few more things.”
Julia glanced up from his laptop, a sunny smile on her face. She’d already been working when he came down for breakfast. He had to admit, the woman sure looked good first thing in the morning. Her eyes gleamed behind the lenses of her glasses.
“I like the way you’re planning long term now,” she told him cheerily. “I’ll grab my purse and be ready to go in just a second.”
As promised, she was back in a flash, and they headed outside together. He made sure to lock the cabin’s front door and reset his alarm, and her smile stretched even more. As they strode toward the truck he kept at the cabin, he made sure to slow his pace so that their steps matched. Julia stayed close to him, her arm brushing against his every now and then, and he…liked it. Normally, he wasn’t much for touching. But with her, it was different.
“Stop.” Her hand flew out and grabbed his shirt. Her eyes were on his truck. “Something is wrong.”
He’d been focused on her, not the truck, but now his stare jerked over to it. Sure enough, she was right. The front windshield had long, spider web-like cracks running across the surface. “Hell.” He stepped forward.
She pushed him back.
Bran frowned at her. “A limb must’ve hit it during the storm. I need to get a look at the damage.”
“A limb.” Her head cocked. She was still staring at the truck, not him. “Right. Sure.” Her gaze swept the area, then she moved forward, as if intending to go toward the truck for inspection.
She seemed to miss the fact that there was glass all over the ground. Bran grabbed her and scooped Julia into his arms. She let out a surprised gasp as her arm wound around his neck. “What are you doing?” Julia asked.
Other than enjoying having her soft body in his arms…? “Protecting you.”
Her eyes widened.
“From the broken glass,” he added, getting a little lost in her eyes. “Didn’t want you to get cut.”
“That’s…very sweet of you.”
Sweet? Sweet? He was Bran Copper. He was rock. He was rage. He was the man who got any freaking thing he wanted. He wasn’t sweet. Not by a long shot.
So why was he still cradling her and looking into her eyes like some lovesick jackass?
He cleared his throat but didn’t put her down. “I’ll get someone from town to come out and fix the truck.” He turned away from the truck and the glass and headed toward the big storage barn that waited about twenty feet away. “I’ve got a motorcycle inside that we can use. We’ll go to the grocery store, place our order, and then get everything delivered—”
“After your accident, you plan to get on a motorcycle again?”
He tightened his hold on her. “Haven’t you heard that if you fall off a horse, you need to get back on it?”
“This isn’t a horse. It’s a motorcycle. And you crashed. You didn’t fall.”
“Yeah, the memory is plenty vivid, thanks so much.” He winked at her. “But don’t worry, I won’t let you crash. You hold tight to me, and everything will be fine.”
They were at the barn.
Julia’s fingers fluttered along the back of his neck. “You didn’t have to carry me all the way over.”
“I like holding you.”
Her lips parted. “You should put me down now.”
Pity. But he did. And he unlocked the barn, and a few moments later, he’d taken the tarp off his motorcycle. He didn’t immediately climb on, though. Instead, he checked out the bike, moving over it carefully. Once, he would have simply assumed the ride was good to go.
Until my brakes stopped working, and I had to make a life or death choice.
This time, he’d have Julia on the bike with him.
No sense in taking any chances. They’d go into town, and they’d be driving nice and slow.
When he was satisfied, he straddled the bike and offered one of the helmets to Julia. She stared at it a moment, then peered at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Some days.”
Her lips thinned. “Not today?”
“Absolutely not today.”
Her breath heaved out. She shoved the helmet onto her cute head and climbed on behind him. She was trying to hold her body back from him. Not going to work. “Sweetheart, you’ve got to get closer and hold on tight.”
He revved the engine.
She slid closer so that her stomach pressed to his back. Her arms came up and curled around his stomach. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
He made a mental note. “Sorry.”
“And do not drive fast. If there is any sign that your brakes aren’t working, you let me know right away.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Another rev of the engine. “Hold tight.” He pulled out of the barn, and her hold tightened on him. He heard the quick inhale she gave as the bike leapt forward. He didn’t go too fast. She was with him—her safety was a priority. The wind blew against him as the motorcycle’s tires splashed through the puddles that had been left from last night’s rain.
***
The woman was still with Bran. They came into town, and the mystery lady had her arms curled tightly around Bran’s waist as she pressed her body to his. The motorcycle’s engine roared.
Bran and his bikes. You would have thought the man had learned before that he should stay off the damn things.
Some people were slow learners.
Bran braked near the small grocery store. The woman removed her helmet. Slid off the bike. Her balance wavered a little, and Bran’s hand flew out. His fingers curled around her arm as he steadied her.
Then Bran’s hand lingered.
She should walk away now. The night was over. She should walk away.
But the blonde woman didn’t walk away. She turned with Bran, and they headed into the grocery store. Their bodies were close, brushing, and Bran slowed his steps so that they seemed to walk in the same rhythm.
Bran opened the door for her. Playing the gentleman. He flashed the blonde a smile.
Not another one, Bran. Not another one.
***
“I’ll have everything delivered within an hour.” The store clerk stared at Bran with wide eyes. His voice broke a little as he added, “I’ll deliver them, um, myself, sir.”
Bran passed what looked to be a ridiculous amount of money toward the kid. “I need you to contact Joe at the garage. Tell him the storm broke my truck’s windshield and get him to come out, too.”
Julia frowned.
Bran shot her a smile. “This is Mike.” He waved to the kid. “He and Joe are cousins.”
So he was on a first name basis with the people in town. Interesting. But then, he had been coming up to the mountain for several years. She’d just assumed that he’d kept a distance between himself and everyone in the sleepy town.
She’d been wrong. Julia didn’t like being wrong.
“This your girlfriend?” Mike the clerk asked as his gaze swept over Julia.
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m his assistant,” she corrected before Bran could reply.
“Ah…oh, okay.” Mike’s bright stare went right back to Bran. “You need anything else, you just let me know.”
“I will, thanks.” Bran tipped his head and then caught Jul
ia’s hand in his. He steered her toward the door, threading their fingers together.
Why was he doing that? She’d just said she was his assistant, and now Bran was holding her hand. Mixed messages much?
He pushed open the front door. The bell overhead gave a little jingle. His motorcycle was right where he’d left it, and, actually, she’d been keeping an eye on the bike the whole time they’d been inside. She’d easily been able to see it through the store’s front windows. Julia hadn’t wanted to come back out and discover that someone had tampered with the bike.
She also knew that her partner was out there, watching things, too. She’d texted Cole Vincent right before they’d left the cabin. Getting her purse had been an excuse. She’d really slipped away so that she could let Cole know that she and Bran were on the move.
And as soon as they exited that store…
She saw Cole striding toward them. Tall, muscled, with tats swirling over his arms, he was a pretty intimidating sight. He was also drop-dead gorgeous, but she had a rule about not sleeping with partners, a rule that had come from painful past experience.
Cole headed for them, and she saw his gaze dip to her and Bran’s joined hands.
Crap. She yanked her hand from Bran.
Bran frowned at her.
Cole disappeared into the grocery store. She heard the bell over the door jingle. Her gaze immediately swept the street as she looked for threats. Being out in the open this way wasn’t ideal, and the sooner she got Bran back to the cabin—an area where she could contain him and search for threats—well, the sooner, the better.
“It will be an easy ride home.”
Her gaze darted to Bran.
“You seem nervous.” His head tilted as he studied her. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”
She was hardly worried about a short little motorcycle ride, but it was cute of him to offer safety. “That’s great, but I—”
A glint from the building across the street caught her eye. A faint glint in the upstairs window. A glint that shouldn’t have been there because the building was empty. Several PRIVATE PROPERTY and KEEP OUT signs had been posted on the exterior of the structure.
Yet someone was upstairs. She could see the shadow of movement, and she could also see that glint once more, as if light were reflecting off—