by Lucy Monroe
Oh, Rock's little sister did think the tour guide was hot. She had a little crush on the auburn-haired tour guide, if Deborah was not mistaken.
The look Egan was giving her said the appreciation might be mutual.
Rock cleared his throat, scowling at Egan. "Don’t you have a tour to conduct?"
Egan looked between Rock and Marilyn, not concerned in the least, but with an expression that said Rock's reaction had confirmed something for him.
"You're right. Time to get back on the move, people. We're headed to a small lake, where, if we are lucky, we'll see some of our own wildlife. We'll want to get as quiet as possible once we round the next bend in the trail."
"I don't want to see a bear," the director's second assistant said, her face pulled into a frown.
"Then close your eyes, Jana," the first assistant said, his youthful unconcern something Deborah sort of envied.
Because her first reaction was always to try to make things right. The look Rock gave the middle-aged woman wasn't super friendly either. "Why did you come on a nature hike if you didn't want to see nature?"
"Bears are not normal nature."
"Um…" Deborah wasn't sure what to say to that.
"I'm pretty sure they are," Carey said, his snark full force.
"You know what I mean. Deer won't eat you."
"You're not going to get eaten by a bear," the first assistant dismissed.
"And the chances are pretty low we'll see one anyway," Egan offered, clearly ready to make peace. "Rock and Deborah were really lucky to get a sighting so close to the trail."
They were heading back to Jepsom Acres when there was a sound like a gunshot outside the car, startling Deborah. Rock swore. Marilyn screamed and Carey yelled. The car swerved wildly, but Deborah wasn't scared.
Rock was too darn controlling and competent to let them crash.
He did something with the gear column and then got the car back in their lane a second later. She was grateful for the lack of traffic going both directions. In LA, they would have already been in a multi-car fender bender, if not worse.
"Shit, the brakes are gone." Rock sounded more annoyed than worried. His foot pumped against a brake pedal that was clearly not working, because they were not slowing down.
Not until he shifted the automatic gear shift down to second, the engine whining as the car began to slow somewhat.
"What's going on, Rock? Are we going to crash?" Marilyn's high-pitched voice filled the tense silence of the SUV.
"Stay calm. I've got it under control."
It was telling that none of them questioned that statement, not Deborah, not Carey, not Marilyn.
He shifted the gear down again, the grinding whine of the engine louder this time as the car continued to slow, but not stop. He banked the car to the left, the muscles in his forearms straining as he fought the wheel. Metal screeched against pavement from the front passenger side as he pulled the emergency brake and managed to guide the now wobbling car toward a low embankment on the opposite side of the road.
"Let your bodies go lax. We're gonna hit," Rock barked, his hands tight on the now shuddering wheel.
Deborah tried to obey, forcing her muscles to relax. She was glad she did when she barely felt the impact as they came to a stop against the embankment. Rock had managed to use the SUV's front driver's side quarter panel as the point of impact, minimizing the risk of damage to any of his passengers.
He turned off the car with a jerk of his wrist. "Get your seatbelts off and get down. I don't know what blew that tire."
The sound of four seatbelts releasing almost simultaneously was overlaid with the heavy breathing of stress.
"What's going on, Rock?" Marilyn asked again, her voice shaky.
"Get down," Carey told her, yanking his twin down to the backseat floor board before turning and opening his own door to follow Rock out of the SUV.
"Oh, no they don't," Deborah muttered to herself as she too exited the car. She hunched down and moved to where Rock was examining the front right tire. "What happened?"
Expression grim, he looked up at her. "The tire blew."
"Is that why the brakes failed?" She didn't know anything about cars, but that sounded wrong to her.
"No. I'm not sure why they went. The SUV was just serviced before you all arrived in Cailkirn. The brakes were fine."
"It sounded like a gunshot."
"That was the tire blowing. A gunshot sounds a little different."
"How would you know?" she asked, thinking the man just might be a little too knowledgeable.
"Calm down, hot stuff. I may not hunt, but that doesn't mean I've spent more than two decades in Alaska without learning to shoot, both a pistol and rifle."
"Oh. Okay." She rubbed her arms. "Why did you tell us to get down then?"
"Yeah, what was up with you and Carey getting out of the SUV like action heroes and leaving me and Deborah behind? We aren't anyone's definition of damsels in distress." Marilyn sounded peeved.
"So, you made yourself a target?" Carey demanded of his sister, his expression every bit as grim as his brothers.
For the first time, Deborah saw the family resemblance in a big way.
"Like you didn't?" Marilyn snarked. "Besides, a target for what? A blown tire."
"We didn't know what caused the tire to blow," Carey snarked right back.
"Rock just said it wasn't a gunshot."
Rock sighed, giving his siblings a look that Deborah interpreted as settle down and stop sniping at each other. "Not all gunshots are loud enough to be heard through a closed car window."
"You think somebody used a silencer?" Deborah asked, horrified.
That would not be a stray bullet shot by some poor marksman.
"Before we got out of the car, I didn't know."
"Now you do?" Deborah asked and then, "Why would you even think that was a possibility?"
Rock frowned at her like she'd lost her mind. "You know why."
"Because those two miscreants claimed someone hired them to harass me? It's a big stretch from harassment to shooting out a tire." Wasn't it?
"They pulled a gun on us, if you remember. Their plans for you weren't benevolent."
Man, the eldest siblings put the others to shame when it came to his mocking tone.
"What?" Marilyn demanded. "Someone wants to hurt Deborah? I thought those guys were a couple of local troublemakers."
"That's not cool." Carey scowled at Deborah. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Rock just told me yesterday." She sighed. "And I didn't believe it."
"Well, I'd say this is proof." Sarcasm dripped from Carey's voice, once again reminding Deborah how very much alike the brothers were at their core.
"We don't know what made the tire go." Deborah looked around them and then back at the damaged vehicle. "It could have been a nail in the road, or something."
Only he'd said he didn't know before he got out of the car if the tire had been shot out, implying that now he did. Which meant he knew what caused it to blow and if it had been innocuous, she didn't think his expression would be nearly so dark.
"And the brakes?" Rock asked, his brows raised, ignoring the issue of the tire.
Temporarily, she was sure.
"I don’t know," Deborah answered testily. "I'm not a mechanic."
"Neither am I, but I know they shouldn't have gone out like that." Rock wasn't giving any quarter. "Carey, call Benji."
Carey didn't question his brother's direction, pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the call, his conversation with the sheriff short. The younger actor tucked his phone back into pocket. "Benji said he'd be here in a few."
"Why did you tell him to call the sheriff?" Deborah asked Rock. "We need a tow truck, not the cops." Maybe.
"If the SUV's been tampered with, Benji needs to know about it." Carey answered implacably before Rock could even open his mouth.
"You have a lot of your brother in you, did you know that?"
> But maybe they were both right.
Carey flashed his winning grin at her. "Thanks."
"It wasn't a compliment." But maybe it was.
"Oh, I think it was."
Deborah growled and then blushed when she realized what she'd done. Seriously? They were driving her to primitive woman.
"I'm bringing in security for the remainder of the movie." Rock didn't look like he was open to argument.
Deborah tried anyway. "That's not necessary. You know it isn't. Be reasonable."
"Like you, you mean?" Rock mocked. "What's reasonable about refusing to acknowledge you're at risk?"
"I'm not refusing. I really didn't think Amos and Virgil were telling the truth." It had just seemed so unlikely.
"And now?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Unexpected tears burned at the back of her eyes as Deborah accepted that someone was trying to hurt her. "You're sure the brakes couldn't have failed because of something just, I don't know, car related."
"I'm sure."
"You said you're not a mechanic."
"But I trust the one that did the SUV's service check." He pulled her toward him. "Come here, hot stuff. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."
"This is crazy, Rock. Isn't it? Stuff like this happens in the movies we make, not the lives we live."
"It's happening right now, in your life, sweetheart. And I'm not taking any risks."
"You're right." Darn it. He was. Her refusal to acknowledge the risk had put Rock and his siblings in danger. "You, Carey or Marilyn could have been hurt too. If you weren't such a good driver…" Deborah's voice petered out, her brain short-circuiting at the image of what could have happened.
"Yeah, everybody is getting personal bodyguards along with the general security detail for the property."
"I don't want a bodyguard," Marilyn complained.
Rock shot her a quick look. "Hopefully Benji will figure out what's happening soon, but until then, it's not negotiable."
"If I leave—"
"Don't even think about it, Deborah." His focus was back on her. 100%. "You're not going anywhere while someone wants to hurt you."
"I can leave Alaska if I want to."
"Not according to your contract, you can't."
"Art and Ms. Morganstein would understand." Deborah wasn't actually sure of that, but she could hope.
"Bullshit. Those two sharks aren't giving you any free passes, but let's make something very clear here. If you go back to LA, you won't be going alone."
"What? Who would be going with me?" she asked, not getting his meaning at all.
"I would," Rock said, like it should be obvious.
"Who did you think?" Carey asked with a duh tone.
"He'll probably insist on bringing your bodyguard too," Marilyn pointed out.
Deborah shook her head, making no move to leave Rock's arms. "I'm not getting a bodyguard. I'm not part of the family."
"I didn't see you hit your head, but you're talking like the accident scrambled your brains." Rock placed one hand against the small of her back, rubbing a little. "Of course, you're getting a bodyguard."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"But I'm not family."
"You already said that," Carey snarked.
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Rock demanded, sounding pissed.
"Well, of course you're worried about Carey and Marilyn right now. They're like your own kids even if they are your brother and sister, but I'm just a woman you were sleeping with."
"Were?" Marilyn asked and then glared at her brother. "You were supposed to say you're sorry."
"I did." Rock said, without looking away from Deborah. "I screwed up. I said I was sorry. Deborah is thinking about forgiving me."
She was? Okay, she was, but wasn't that making a pretty big assumption.
"We're still sleeping together."
"I slept in the guest room last night."
"You needed time to get over being mad at me."
"You think?"
"Sure, but what we have is too unique, too intense and too damn good for either of us to just walk away like it never mattered."
"You said just sex."
"I was wrong and I told you that too."
She remembered that last time they'd made love, the way he'd admitted that what they had was special. "You thought I used my body to get you to invest in the movie."
"Rock!" Marilyn admonished. "Didn't you tell her that was a mistake? That you didn't mean it."
"You really are the stupid one," Carey added. "Deborah isn't like that."
"I know. I was feeling vulnerable, all right?" Rock asked, aggrieved. "And this is between me and Deborah. You two can put your oars back in the boat."
Marilyn crossed her arms and gave them both a chastising look. "We have a vested interest in Deborah and you working out."
"How do you figure that?" Rock asked, rubbing Deborah's back.
"Because we want you happy." Marilyn's expression said she thought her big brother was playing the stupid role very well.
Carey nodded his agreement. "Seriously, Rock. She's good for you."
"And you're good for her."
"This isn’t permanent," Deborah said, even as she let herself settle more comfortably against Rock.
She really needed to get her body online with her brain. Later.
She needed comfort and for once there was someone there to give it.
"Like hell." Rock glared at them all, but he didn't let go of Deborah.
Sirens and flashing lights announced Benji's arrival, cutting off what was an obscenely overly personal conversation for the side of the road.
Benji did a quick look over the SUV after making sure everyone was okay. He wasn't smiling when he stood up after looking underneath.
"What is it?" Rock asked.
"The brake line was cut."
"I figured."
"And the tire looks like its sidewall was sliced, probably just enough to weaken it so that it would blow when you were driving."
Before Deborah could ask Benji if he was sure, Rock said, "That's what it looked like to me."
And that was how Rock had known the tire hadn't been shot.
"Who would know how to do something like that?" Deborah asked.
"Anyone with access to the Internet and halfway decent knife skills," Benji replied. "Let's get you folks home."
They rode back to Jepsom's Acres in the sheriff's Jeep, Deborah, Marilyn and Carey squeezed together in the back seat.
Rock climbed out of the car and turned to the rest of them. "I don't want any of you leaving the house until the security detail arrives.
"You're being darn bossy," Deborah said with a huff. "What if I want to go for a walk?"
"Stop being contrary. We just got back from a daylong hike. Don't you have lines, or something, to go over?"
"Ms. Morganstein probably has calls for me to make," Deborah admitted morosely.
She really didn't like this part of being listed on the production team.
"You can make them in my office if you like."
"Where will you be?"
"In my office."
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"It won't bother me."
"Still, I think I'll go somewhere I won't bother anyone else with my talking."
"You can't avoid my office forever, hot stuff."
"You think that's what I'm doing?"
"I'm pretty sure of it."
"Well, it's not. I just don't want to interrupt your work."
"I like when you interrupt my work."
"Don't you have calls of your own to make?" she asked, refusing to answer that salvo.
"Yes."
"Well then."
"I'll make them from the living room and then join you in my office."
"That's silly."
"I don't think so."
"Fine." Deborah wasn't in the mood for further argument, but she found herself reluctant to walk into
Rock's office when she reached it. Memories of what they'd shared in there, both the amazing and the painful, assaulted her.
Taking a breath to calm down, she gave herself a pep talk about not letting a room intimidate her and walked inside. Rock had put his desk to rights again, the rest of the room pristine in its tidiness. No proof of the interlude they'd shared anywhere to be seen.
Deborah sat down on the sofa, making a conscious effort to ignore the memories of what they'd done on the leather cushions, and called Ms. Morganstein. The executive producer had a list of people for Deborah to call, but first she wanted to talk about Rock.
"Do you think he's going to invest?" Ms. Morganstein pressed for something like the third time.
"I don't know," Deborah repeated for an equal number of times. "He's researching the project and that's more than I thought he'd do, to be honest."
"Why wouldn't he? This movie is bankable. Besides he has personal reasons for saying yes."
"Throwing what you think are his personal reasons for investing in his face like you've done hasn't helped your cause."
"Our cause surely."
"I'm not sure I want Rock to invest at this point." Deborah had had a few epiphanies of her own since their argument.
One. Rock was sorry. Two. Rock didn't believe she was a whore. Three. No matter how important the movie was to Art Gamble and Elaine Morganstein, it was not okay that they did. Four. Deborah wanted a relationship with Rock. Five. The movie was important, but not more important that one through four.
"You don't mean that." Ms. Morganstein's tone was filled with shock.
"You suggested I should break up with him if he refused, Ms. Morganstein. I'm not feeling nearly as passionate about this project as I was before."
The executive producer made a dismissive sound. "I expressed what I thought was a natural outcome."
"And threatened me."
"I did no such thing."
"Not overtly, no."
"Well, then."
"So, tell me that my role in the movie is not in jeopardy if Rock refuses to invest."
"I can't," Ms. Morganstein said in a calculating tone. "The role may have to go to someone else who can bring in a capital infusion."