by Cynthia Eden
“If you say so.”
She hurried toward the hallway.
“Just one more thing…”
Julia stilled but didn’t glance back.
“Don’t ever fucking jump between me and a gun again, understand? That’s not your job.”
Actually, it was.
***
The warning shot had been meant for the woman. A woman now identified as Julia Slate. Bran’s new assistant.
Julia had signed her name to that smug-ass email, obviously having no clue who she was dealing with. This wasn’t some game. This was reality. This was life.
This was death.
And if Julia got in the way…
The shot won’t be a warning next time.
The cabin shone with lights, so many brilliant lights glittering in the darkness. Because of all those windows, it was easy to see inside. Easy to watch Julia as she walked away from Bran. They’d kissed, but she’d shut him down. Maybe there would be some hope for the woman. Now she was heading off alone. Again, a good sign.
If she’d stayed with Bran, if she’d fucked him…Julia would have signed her own death warrant.
The lights turned off in the den. One by one all of the other lights in the cabin followed until there was only darkness. The watcher turned away, studying the thick woods and the mountain. The place was so isolated. Such an absolutely perfect hunting spot.
***
The music woke her hours later. Julia’s eyes opened as the melody—strangely sad but beautiful—reached her ears. It was a slow song. One that seemed to sink into her very bones. And as she listened to the melody, she could actually feel tears sting her eyes.
She blinked them away. What in the hell? Bran didn’t write tender songs. He was hard rock. He was fury and fire.
She shoved off her covers and rushed from the bedroom. Her feet bounded up the stairs. The music was still playing—coming from the third floor. His studio. He’d given her a brief tour, and she’d quickly memorized the layout of the cabin. Julia reached the studio door and threw it open—
Bran’s fingers were poised over the guitar. He wore only a pair of jeans, and his body—that wonderful, muscled chest—curled around the guitar he held cradled so carefully against him.
“What are you doing?” Julia asked, her voice rising a bit. Too sexy. Was not prepared for this level of sexy when I rushed up here.
His sensual lips curved in a slow smile. “Playing my guitar?” His gaze swept over her.
She glanced down. Tiny shorts. Tank top. No bra. Wonderful. Her spine straightened. “I—” Okay, why had she panicked and bounded up the stairs? “It didn’t…seem like your kind of music.” And what the hell did I think? A tender song was dangerous? Her gaze skittered around the studio, a truly massive room. Had to be at least a thousand square feet. Was that a recording area in the corner? It looked like—
“What did you think?” Bran murmured. “That someone else was up here with me?”
Yes. In her half-wakeful state, she had wondered if someone had gotten inside while she’d been passed out from the after-effects of an adrenaline rush. “It didn’t sound like your music.”
He bit the inside of his cheek. Considered her words. Put the guitar onto a nearby stand. “You didn’t like it.” A nod as he rose. “Thanks, but you don’t need to rush up at one a.m. to tell me that my music sucks—”
She stumbled toward him before she could think better of it. “It didn’t suck.”
“You just said—”
“I said it didn’t sound like what you’ve done before. I never said it sucked.” She swallowed. “I thought it was beautiful.”
His expression darkened. “Don’t bullshit me. I told you how I felt about lies—”
“It was beautiful.” Julia stared into his eyes. “Believe what I say, all right?”
After a moment, he gave a slow nod.
The air seemed to thicken between them. This was so not good. Like, a million times not good. When she’d first taken the job, Julia had thought that keeping her distance from Bran wouldn’t be a problem. As if she’d fall for his playboy ways. Please. She’d told Eric that she could handle the man in her sleep.
But now she was staring into his eyes, and she couldn’t look away. She also wasn’t feeling particularly sleepy.
“Wanted to try something new,” he rasped. “So ‘At the Door’ kinda just came to me.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Sorry I woke you.”
Her chest felt tight. “You warned me that you liked to keep late hours. Dealing with that is going to be part of the job.” Next time, she’d grab a robe before rushing upstairs. But since she was supposed to be playing the role of assistant… “What can I do to help?”
“You already helped more than you know.” A half-smile teased his lips. “I was hitting a wall until you came along.”
Her cheeks burned. “Are you telling me I’m your inspiration?” Her response was a joke.
Only he didn’t laugh. He nodded.
Voice turning way too husky, she asked, “What’s the song about?”
“About how a man’s life can change depending on who he finds waiting at the door.”
She took a step back. He was half-dressed, sexy as hell with his six pack and tousled hair, and that rumbling voice…
She needed a cold shower. She needed to back up. She needed to stop imagining how easy it would be to jump him. To let him lift her up while she wrapped her legs around those lean hips of his…
The job was so much harder than she’d expected. “Adrenaline is keeping you up.” Now her voice was too loud. “It’s probably the same thing giving you inspiration. I guarantee, it’s not me.” Time to go back downstairs. Back to her bed. ASAP.
She spun on her heel. Retreat.
“I know plenty about adrenaline. Since I don’t drink or do drugs, you could say it’s my vice of choice.”
She thought of his base jumping, his racing, his motorcycles…Yeah, okay. That all made sense.
“It’s not adrenaline keeping me up. Adrenaline isn’t making the music play in my head. That’s you.”
His words were oddly sweet. But he wasn’t a sweet man. She wasn’t going to fall for any lines he gave her. She was going to do her job and ignore the fact that desire burned pretty much red-freaking-hot between them. A problem she hadn’t anticipated but would be able to handle. “Good night, Bran.”
“Good night, Julia.” His sexy growl followed her out of his studio.
She shut the door behind her, a bit too hard, then she stood there, her back against the wood. Her breath panted out, and her heart raced too fast. For a woman who was normally all about being cool under pressure…this was not working.
The lights were still off in the house. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she reached for the bannister on the stairs. The last thing she wanted to do was take a header down the staircase. She took her time climbing down, one foot after the other and—
A light shone in the darkness beyond the windows. A flash that was there one moment, gone the next. She waited, wondering if she’d see it again. Then…it appeared once more. A beam of light in the dark. Like…a flashlight? Someone holding a flashlight as the person moved toward the cabin?
She flew down the rest of the stairs, her steps silent and her body tense. She darted in her room just long enough to get a weapon. A woman had to be prepared, after all, and then she was rushing to the front door. She pocketed the key to the cabin, made sure the alarm was set, then she slipped away to hunt.
Someone was stalking Bran, and she was ready to catch the jerk.
Chapter Five
He was such an idiot. He’d probably been drooling as Julia stood before him. Her shorts had barely skimmed the top of her thighs, and her tank top…jeez, she hadn’t been wearing a bra. He’d been able to see her tight nipples thrusting toward him.
Then she’d stared right into his eyes and told him the song he was working on was beautiful.
Her voice had
been husky, her gaze direct, her body the perfect temptation.
Did she realize the song was about her? About how utterly lost a man could be when the right woman knocked at his door?
We just met. I need to slow things the hell down.
He also needed to make sure she hadn’t fallen down the freaking stairs in the dark. That was the reason why he was suddenly rushing out the studio’s door. Just to check on her because she’d been through a lot that day and not because he couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing her again, right away. Because, really, that shit would be stalker-like. He wasn’t a stalker. He didn’t have to chase women. They chased him.
And it was only a song. A melody, really. He didn’t even have all the words yet. It would probably go nowhere. Only a song. In real life, people didn’t fall hard and fast. And…
He was just checking on her. Because the stairs were dark. The whole cabin was dark. Julia hadn’t been wearing her glasses when she’d burst into the studio. Without the glasses, how well could she see? Besides, she’d had a scare that night. Shit, he’d been terrified in town, and he’d been desperate to get Julia back home.
So he was just going to her room to check on her. Not to put the moves on her. Not to see her in those tiny shorts and her tight top. He was making sure she was all right. He was being a good boss.
His feet thudded down the stairs. Bran figured he should also apologize once more for waking her up. When he reached the bottom floor, Bran spun and headed down the hallway. Her door was partially open. His fingers rapped against the wood. “Julia, look, I wanted to say—” Uh, oh. I have no freaking clue what I want to say.
While he searched for words, her door swung open, moving beneath his rapping fingers.
He hesitated, expecting to hear her voice call out to him. Maybe she’d tell him to get the hell out of her room. Only, she didn’t.
She didn’t say anything. A tendril of alarm slid through him. “Julia?” He took a step inside.
Starlight fell through her window and landed onto the bed. The empty bed. The covers had been tossed aside, and Julia was gone.
Gone?
Maybe she was in the bathroom, and if she came out and found him being all creepy-ass weird in her room…
No sound came from the adjoining bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Julia?” Nothing. “Julia, are you in there?”
No response. The knob turned beneath his hand. He flipped on the light. Empty.
Now his blood seemed to ice as he backtracked through the cabin. He flipped on lights, looked in the kitchen, the den, but…
She wasn’t there.
His gaze fell on the table near the entranceway. The keys to the cabin should have been on that table. They weren’t.
And Julia was missing…at one freaking a.m.
***
She approached her prey without making a sound. She’d gotten good at that particular skill, thanks to her training at Wilde Securities. She hadn’t intended to be a predator. In fact, in another life, she’d wanted to be a rescuer.
But that life had burned away.
After she was left with ashes, she’d had to make herself into someone new.
The flashlight shone on the ground as the man moved forward, the faint glow bobbed and weaved, and Julia realized her prey seemed to be heading for the barn near the cabin.
Or maybe the prey was heading toward what was inside the barn. Bran’s motorcycle? Another attempt at sabotage?
I don’t think so.
She crept up behind the man’s shadowy form. He fumbled with his light, reached for the lock on the barn door, and while he was busy with both of his hands, she attacked.
She lunged toward him and shoved her knife against his side, making sure not to break the skin, not yet, but letting the guy know that a weapon was against him. “You’ll want to freeze,” she told him in a low, angry voice. “Right the hell now.”
He froze. His whole body stiffened against her. “You…you’re making a mistake.”
His voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Not yet, anyway. It nagged at her. For the moment, she ignored the nag. “You’re the one who made the mistake. You think you’re going to hurt Bran? Think again.”
“What? Hurt Bran? No, no, you’ve got it all—”
He tried to turn toward her. Another mistake. As she’d done with Bran, she slipped a foot behind his ankle, and she let the guy’s own momentum work against him. He twisted and slipped, and the fellow crashed into the ground. His light went flying, and she leapt on top of him. Before he could move, she had her knife at his throat.
“Holy hell,” he whispered. “What are you? Black Widow’s twin?”
A door slammed. Footsteps pounded. Her head whipped up at the sound.
“Julia!” Bran roared. “Julia, where are you?”
“You’re making a mistake,” the prey beneath her said again, and this time…oh, yes, she knew that voice. Unfortunately. “I’m here to help Bran, not hurt him.”
“Don’t know if I buy that,” she rasped right back.
“Fine. You won’t. He will.” The man tensed beneath her before he yelled, “Bran, we’re over here!”
Shit. Those thundering footsteps immediately flew toward them.
“I’m the sheriff,” the guy beneath her huffed out. Yeah, I already realized that. “Bran is my friend. I was worried about him, so I came out here to do a little recon—”
A light was coming toward her. That light would fall on her and the sheriff any moment. She whipped back her knife and hid it at her side just as—
Yep, bright light spilled onto her. “Julia?” Bran’s shocked growl of her name. Then, harder, a sharp bite, “Julia, why the hell are you straddling the sheriff?”
Bran’s light—spilling from his phone all bright and illuminating—let her see that she was, indeed, on top of the sheriff she’d met in town. “He was trying to break into the barn,” she replied, honestly, “so I jumped on him.”
“What?” It sounded as if Bran might be choking.
Her gaze swept over the sheriff’s face. Slightly crooked nose—probably from a bar fight. Strong jaw. Narrowed eyes. Hair cut a little too short. “You’re not wearing your sheriff’s uniform. You’re all in black at one a.m. Doesn’t that scream shady to you?”
“I was off-duty,” he gritted out. “And I was worried about my friend so I came by to have a look around.”
Bran’s hand curled around Julia’s shoulder—nope, wait, not just a curl, he was lifting her off the sheriff. For the moment, she let herself be lifted, and she made sure to keep her knife out of sight.
“I don’t like you on top of him,” Bran snapped.
“Well, I don’t like him trying to break and enter so…” She shrugged one shoulder—once he let her go.
The sheriff scrambled to his feet. “I wasn’t breaking and entering!” He sounded offended. “I was making sure the cabin was locked down and secure for the night. Someone took a shot at Bran—”
“I know, I was there,” she interrupted smoothly.
“So I needed to make sure nothing else was happening out here. I needed to make sure he was safe.” He yanked at his black t-shirt and batted away some dirt. “I didn’t know some woman would come hurtling at me in the dark.”
“Not just some woman,” she told him helpfully. “His assistant. And I was assisting by making sure no one was trying to steal his motorcycle.” Or hurt his sexy person.
“You pulled a knife on me!” Gideon raged.
Be careful now. “A knife? No, don’t be silly. That was just the key to the cabin. I had a self-defense class once, and my instructor said to use keys as a weapon.”
Bran’s knuckles slid down her bare arm. “You shouldn’t have gone outside without me. What if—”
“What if it had been a real bad guy and not just me?” the sheriff muttered. He huffed. “Don’t worry, I think she could’ve handled things.”
Bran didn’t even seem to hear the sheri
ff. A good thing. Bran had turned to fully focus on Julia. “You have to be more careful. After what happened today…shit, there are things I need to tell you.”
Her heart lurched in her chest. “What is it?”
Bran’s lips parted.
Before he could answer, the sheriff drawled, “Oh, you know, the usual for a rock star. He has a psychotic stalker on his trail, and death-wish Bran came to the mountains so he could set himself up as bait and lure the bastard right to him.”
***
Bran shut and locked the front door.
Julia tossed him a quick smile when the lock clicked into place.
Then she hurried away, moving down the hallway toward her room. He sure as hell hoped she was putting on more clothes—or at least, shoes. She’d been barefoot outside. He’d wanted to pick her up and carry her in so that she wouldn’t hurt her feet. The glass from his truck’s broken windshield was still out there. He needed to get that cleaned up ASAP. Her cute little feet could have been sliced apart.
Her lack of shoes wasn’t the only issue. He’d wanted to cover her up so that Gideon would stop staring at her legs. And everything else.
“Uh, earth to Bran?” Gideon Warren cleared his throat. His voice was low as Gideon added, “Can you stop looking at your assistant’s ass long enough to talk with me?”
Bran’s gaze snapped to him. “Watch it.”
Gideon immediately held up both hands. “Hey, you were the one watching. I was just trying to get your attention.”
Bran took a hard step toward him. “Julia is off-limits, understand? You don’t mess with her. You don’t say anything to make her feel uncomfortable.” Rage pumped through him. “And you damn well shouldn’t have told her about the stalker! I don’t want her scared.”