“How do you mean?” I asked carefully.
“Why didn’t you call to tell me about the show? Why did your best friend back out of the party? Why didn’t you tell me how far things went with Samuel?” She pulled in a needed breath. “Take your pick where to start, but we’re going to talk about all of them.”
I sat up in the bed and sighed. “Fanny, you can big-sister me another time. I’m tired. It’s been an emotional day, and I—”
A knock sounded on the frame to my door. I glanced up to see Cash standing in it, his expression neutral.
“I’m gonna take the shower first tonight, if that’s all right with you . . .” He glanced at the phone that remained at my ear and frowned as he finished. “Miss Wood.”
“No problem. I’ll move to the other room.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The crease in his brow deepened. “You’re exhausted. Stay. I’ll be in and out of your hair before you know it.”
“All right,” I whispered to his back as he stepped into the bathroom and then slid the door closed.
“Was that Maximillian?”
“Yeah.”
“Add a what the hell’s going on with him to my list of things for us to talk about.”
“Oh, Fanny.” I sighed again.
“Do you want to start in reverse order? Maximillian first.”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. My life is a mess.”
“You signed on to the Valentine project. That does not seem like a mess. That’s amazing news.”
“How did you find out?”
“It’s the big story on the Celebrity Gossip Channel. You and Valentine are trending on social media too.”
“Olivia.” I said her name in the awe-filled manner in which it should be uttered.
“She’s trying to get you in front of the news cycle before Samuel’s interview on Besille’s show airs.”
“I forget that you used to have daily PR meetings with an agent.”
“Still have to worry about public relations with me singing again.”
“You have Ash, and his label.” Targets for Samuel to destroy.
“I do. Outside isn’t as big as Zenith Productions or Black Cat Records yet, but it’s a rising force to be reckoned with. We can help you. Ash wanted me to extend an offer on his behalf. Linc too.” Lincoln Savage was the lead singer of the Dirt Dogs and cofounder with his cousin Ash of their music label.
“I appreciate it, but . . .”
“I had to talk Ramon out of coming up there to LA and getting into it with Samuel.” Ramon Martinez was the Dirt Dogs’ guitarist, and overprotective of those he considered his friends, just like Ash.
“Don’t let him do that, Fanny.”
“He won’t, or at least I don’t think he would. He just feels so helpless. We all do. We’re all down here and have each other to lean on. You’re up there by yourself. Karen and Simone ask about you every day.”
Karen Grayson was Ramon’s surf girl and owned the local surf shop. She’d outfitted Fanny and me when we had nothing. Simone Bianchi was Lincoln’s fiancée.
“We all support you,” Fanny said. “We all want to do whatever we can to help.”
“Diesel too, huh?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm leaching into my tone. There was no way the ex-pro-surfer turned Dirt Dog bassist gave a flying flip what I was going through. He was way too egocentric to see past himself. Plus, he and I did not get along.
“No, not Diesel. But only because he’s not here. He had to fly back out to the island, or he—”
I don’t want to talk about Diesel Le.” I put my cell on speaker and set it on the bed. “He’s a narcissistic, self-centered man-child who thinks I’m a child because I don’t fall at his feet and drool all over him like all the other women do.”
Just thinking about him gave me a headache. I massaged my throbbing temples with my thumbs.
“You do sound tired.”
“I am. I’ve been going since the sun came up. And I have a flight first thing in the morning to New York.”
“Oh, Hollie, whatever for?”
“Someone canceled, and Olivia got me a spot on the Behind the Stars show.”
“To talk about the lawsuit against Samuel.”
“Yes, there’s that, and maybe we’ll talk some about my career.”
The door to the bath suddenly slid open. My eyes glassed over a little, okay a lot, as Max emerged in a cloud of steam with his clothes and toiletry bag in one hand and the twist in the towel around his amazingly toned abs in the other.
His eyes met mine, and I melted. My entire insides turned to hot sludge. One heartbeat became two. Hard, insistent thumps inside my chest.
I took him all in. The wet hair slicked back. The scattering of the missed droplets on the smooth, lightly tanned skin over his wide shoulders. Both his biceps were flexed, and they were so large, both my hands together wouldn’t be able to span their circumference.
Pecs sculpted, then the ridges of his abdomen. One. Two. Three. Four. I didn’t bother counting higher.
Reaching the towel, I could very clearly see the effect my staring had on him. My mouth went dry. I lifted my gaze to find his jaw tense, and his eyes cobalt-blue flames.
My stomach fluttered as if it contained a legion of butterflies.
“Hollie, are you there?”
“Barely. I mean, yes.” I swallowed to moisten my mouth. “But something just came up.” Man, had it ever. “Can we talk about all of this later?” My voice was raspy.
“I’m worried about you, Hols.”
“I know.” I was worried about me too. I was all over the map, knowing what I should do, but with Max standing right in front of me, I didn’t know if I could. “We’ll talk at the party.”
“A proper sit-down. You and me. No interruptions. Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.” To those hope-filled stars she liked to wish on and farther still. “’Bye.”
“Your sister’s worried about you,” Max said, his gaze on the cell as I ended the call and turned the ringer on it off.
“She is.”
“We all are.”
“Meaning you?”
He nodded. “The things you said today with Sasha.” His eyes were dark and filled with shadows. “I didn’t know.” He moved closer.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“Sorry isn’t what I feel.”
He was right in front of me now. I could feel the heat coming off his body and had to crane my neck to keep his handsome earnest face in view.
Before I could warn him away, return us to the employer-employee relationship we needed to be in so he would be safe from Samuel like everyone else, Max spoke again, changing everything.
“I’m falling for you, Hollie.”
Shocked, I blinked as my mind went blank. I had to reboot it to get it back online.
“You said we were taking things slow,” I reminded him, not knowing what else to say. “Not that we’re doing anything, or should do anything.”
I was so rattled, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. As they fidgeted helplessly, he knelt down and captured them.
“Not slow. It’s not possible to do gradual with you, shug. Only one way. Fast and hard.”
My heart raced at his words. The images that came to my mind matched his intensity, letting me know that the very same thoughts ran through his.
“I want that too,” I said. “You’re a wonderful man, Max, but . . .”
“No, not wonderful.” His masculine fingers flexed over mine. “If I were wonderful, I’d have fought these feelings harder. But I would’ve had to go right back to the beginning and walk away the first time I laid eyes on you to accomplish that feat. I’d have to look away every morning when you stumble out of bed looking so adorable.”
Scoffing, I said, “I look like death warmed over.”
“You look sweet, beautiful, and vulnerable.”
&nbs
p; “I’m not vulnerable.” I lifted my chin, denying it, even though I knew I was. I stood on the shore with the rushing tide coming in fast, and my feet stuck and sinking deeper into the sand.
“All I want to do is protect you.”
“I know. I appreciate it. But . . .”
“I want to lay the world at your feet. But I know you’ll tell me that you’re quite capable of taking on the entire world singlehandedly. I’ve seen the evidence of it myself since the press conference, and even more so today. Hollie, I know what you’re trying to do.”
His lips flattening, he shook his head at me. “You mean to push everyone away. Ernie already. Your sister eventually. You want to get them out of harm’s way because you anticipate Samuel will hurt them to hurt you.”
Unable to look at him anymore—him seeing me so clearly—I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut.
“You’d be right to guess that’s his next move,” Max said. “But I won’t let you fight him alone.”
“It’s not up to you.” I opened my eyes.
My arms were stiff. I tried to withdraw my fingers from his grip, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Don’t.” I started to panic. Irrationally, but I couldn’t help it. “Let go of me.”
He released me immediately. “I’ll never push you. Never force you to return my affection. I said earlier you give the orders. You do, Hollie. You have my allegiance and my obedience when I’m guarding you, out there in front of everyone else. But behind closed doors like right now, I want more, not less of you. And I want to give you more of me, shug. But whether you take what I’m offering is entirely up to you.”
“You’re very serious.” I reached out and touched Max.
My stomach flipped over, not only from his eloquence, but from the contact with his warm skin. His forehead furrowed at my words, and I smoothed the crease. Meanwhile, my heart wanted to kneel down on the floor to lay itself at his feet.
“I’m a serious guy. A loner, like they’re calling you, but I don’t see you that way. You’re isolated by your career and the demands it puts on you. You have many friends who care about you and a deep friendship with your sister that I’m afraid you’re going to throw away.”
“How can you know me so well?”
“I watch. I listen. Part of that’s my job, the other, I admit, is my growing enchantment with you.”
“I’m just as captivated by you, Max.”
“I’ve noticed.” His lips curved up on one side, the point of origin for a vertical grove on that same side. My serious bodyguard’s version of a smile.
I ran my thumb through the crater. It deepened beneath my caress, and the blue in his gaze twinkled like the surface of the ocean at midnight.
“We’re here, shug. Together. Now. We have to wait to advance the physical part of our relationship, given your age, but let’s not waste this opportunity. We both know life doesn’t often give us much more than a chance at the good things.”
“Less than a breath of one sometimes,” I whispered, moving my hand to frame the sharp edge of his jaw. Staring into his eyes, I marveled at the depth of emotion within them.
“You know my history. The losses tallied higher than the rewards. Until you.”
That did me in. I slid off the bed and dropped to my knees in front of him. My heart had already taken the leap without me . . . my body and the rest might as well follow.
“Careful.” He steadied me with his hands on my shoulders.
“If I were being careful, I wouldn’t be doing this.” I framed his handsome face, fascinated by the perfection of his features and the denseness of the gold stubble that coated his chin. The rough texture was pleasing and so different from mine. It made me feel so very feminine in comparison.
“Max.” I sighed his name while within me swelled a poignant ache to be connected to him. I slid my fingers into his hair. “Can I?” My lips tingled as I drew his face closer. “That is, if it’s okay, I want to kiss you.”
“I want you to.”
He angled his head one way. My heart thrumming, my breath held, I turned mine the other. My stomach flipped over when he let out a deep, needful groan. Our mouths only an inch apart, I closed my eyes for a moment as his warm, minty breath bathed my lips.
“But we can’t, shug. Not yet.” He captured my hands and removed them from his hair.
My fingers felt bereft. Disappointment burned hot in my chest, and my cheeks flushed. He brought my captured hands to his lips and peered at me over them a long moment before he pressed a soft kiss to my skin.
“Soon.” He breathed the promise into one of my hands and then sealed it with a kiss.
My bare toes curled as shimmering ribbons of pleasure spiraled through me. My breasts full, nipples tight, heart heavy—known and unknown parts of me simultaneously pulsed and ached.
“If I don’t die first from waiting,” I muttered, longing for so much more than his lips on my skin.
He bowed his head over my hands, and his shoulders shook. He emitted a creaking noise that reminded me of how the doors on Fanny’s Woodie Wagon had sounded before the rust had been removed from the metal hinges.
When he lifted his head, I realized what a rarity I’d heard—a deep belly laugh. Max had matching vertical grooves in his cheeks now. And his eyes no longer merely sparkled, they danced like moonbeams over water.
Something rose within me that was way more than physical. Staring into his eyes, knowing I had the power to lighten his heart the way he lightened mine, I felt a soul-level satisfaction that resonated deeper than any I’d ever experienced before.
I licked my lips and his gaze dropped to my mouth.
“Temptress,” he said when he met my eyes again.
“Tease.” I bit back my smile. The world didn’t seem like such a dire place when it was just the two of us like this.
I swallowed, and my tone brightened to match my spirit. “If you’re going to stay in my room with me tonight—and just to clarify, this is me extending an invitation to you to remain—you probably should put on more than just a towel.”
“And you more than those skimpy pajamas.”
“I can wear one of your T-shirts if you’ll lend me one, and I have some yoga pants.”
“Those pants are hardly better than the pajamas. They cling like they’re painted onto your sexy ass.”
“You’re the one who insists on this artificial deadline. If you don’t have the willpower to enforce it, I certainly won’t object to you being in my bed sooner for more than just sleeping.”
“Hollie,” he warned, his jaw firm. “Don’t.”
“It’s just a date on a calendar. There’s nothing that will substantially change between us in the next several days.”
“Maybe not. But to me, it’s a matter of my honor.” Max stood and offered me his hand.
I placed my fingers in his readily, letting him help me to my feet. In the process, I tried and failed not to peek at the parting of his towel. He wasn’t unaffected by me. Far from it. Just a glimpse of his jutting appendage doused my entire body in a rush of heated anticipation.
“The waiting will be agony.” His grooves reappeared. “On both of us, shug, no doubt.”
He brought his hands to my face and swept his thumbs over the blushed round of my cheeks. “But try not to tempt me too much.”
No longer teasing, he peered deeply into my eyes, his expression warm and his regard measurably hot. “Your birthday might be only a date on a calendar to you, but to me it’s more about building trust between us. I want a well-established foundation underneath us before we take things to the next level. I need you to know you can trust me to keep my word. That I respect you. That in every aspect of our relationship, your desires and expectations will be met. That you, not anyone or anything else, are my sole priority.”
“Can’t you see she’s exhausted?” Max frowned.
His image was a reflection in the glass in front of me. In reality, he stood a couple of feet beh
ind me. He crossed his arms over his impressive chest, looking as intimidating as he had all day.
Beside him, Olivia had her ear to her phone, as it had remained throughout most of the day—when she hadn’t been fussing at me.
“It’s okay. I need to talk to him. I’ve put it off long enough.” I turned away from the reflective window and the view of the New York City skyline lit up at night. The city that never sleeps twinkled invitingly from outside the Intercontinental Hotel’s penthouse.
After I signed the contract with Valentine, $10 million was deposited into my bank account. The money would certainly allow me to publicly state my case in the media from coast to coast, and later it would help pay for the best attorneys for the eventual trial. But even though the opulence and space that surrounded me was nice, the wear and stress of the day weighed on me.
I’d been up since four a.m. Pacific time. I’d endured a flight from one coast to the other with Olivia peppering me with questions the entire way. I’d taped a segment of Behind the Stars, sticking to the same basic script that I had on Sasha’s show, but skating on a razor’s edge that close to the truth left me feeling unsettled.
Lunch with studio execs from the show had dragged on for three hours, followed by appearances at places where Olivia wanted me to be seen and photographed. Free People. The Gap. Abercrombie. Shops my fans frequented.
Then the theater. Front-row-center seats to Wicked. It was a great show, but I’d seen it three times before. My agent had elbowed me during the somber second act to wake me in order for me to smile and make nice with a couple of noted East Coast filmmakers sitting nearby.
Necessary. I knew it was all necessary. To appear to be poised and unaffected by everything outside of my career. But I’d put off accepting my lawyer’s calls all day, and it was important to hear what he had to say.
I stretched out my arm and took Olivia’s cell from her hand.
“This is Hollie.”
“Miss Wood.” Andrew Hart’s booming official lawyer voice made me reflexively stand up straighter. “It’s good to finally get a chance to speak with you.”
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