My thoughts turned back to the romantic dynamic of Hollywood. There was one group left: the pretty couples. They weren't the big names like the media darlings, but they were the good-looking actors, or whatever, who never got the attention they deserved because they didn't do crazy stuff. They generally ended up with other beautiful people, usually models, dancers or other actors. It was also okay for a beautiful person to meet someone else good-looking who had a 'normal' job like teaching or something like that since their looks made it obvious that they were in that occupation by choice and not because they were too ugly to make it in film, music, etc.
Generally, the pretty couples were down to earth and would never even think that way, but it was the unspoken fact of celebrity. These were couples with the fairy tale romances that gave hope to all of the 'regular' people in the world and the media played them up as such.
As I stepped under the hot spray, I closed my eyes. I'd never been sure where I fit in the romantic dynamic. A lot of people thought I was pretty, and I had my fair share of attention, both from the media and from my peers. I'd been nominated for awards for movies and television, and had even won a few of them. There had been a lot of speculation about my love life, but I'd never really been in a serious enough relationship to need to worry about classification.
I'd done the on and off dating thing over the years, none of them lasting over a couple of months. Even when I'd gotten older and the relationships had become sexual, there'd never been anything too serious. I'd never dated the bad boys or any of the big name stars. They'd all been celebrities in some way—two soccer players, a pop singer, and a couple of models slash actors—but none had been as recognizable as me.
The break-ups had all been amicable, yet more examples of how little passion there had been between us. None of the relationships I'd been in had been anything more than page four news.
Maybe it was me, I reasoned as I rinsed off. Maybe I just didn't inspire that kind of intensity in anyone. That's what made the real power couples and pretty couples stand out so much. The attraction between them was obvious. Even the fake couples could make it look real because there was chemistry there. They just carried it over from the set to real life. I had no problem playing the chemistry on screen, but I'd never felt it in real life. There'd never been that spark that I felt straight through to my soul.
A pair of green eyes popped into my mind and my stomach gave a pleasurable squirm. I didn't know if I could classify that as a spark, but I knew I'd felt something towards Elias. The memory of his hand closing over mine came back with startling clarity. His fingers had just been rough enough for me to believe that he did real work with his hands. What would those hands feel like on my bare skin? Cupping my face? My breast?
I shivered as I toweled off and I knew it wasn't from the chill in the air. It was all too easy to imagine what it would be like to have him touching me, his fingers ghosting over my skin, setting it on fire. I could almost feel him exploring my body, his palms skimming over my stomach, my ribs, up to the swell of my breasts.
I pulled on my robe and slid my favorite slippers onto my feet. As I headed into my bedroom, my mind continued to wander. His lips were a touch too full for a man, I realized, almost pouty. Would they be as soft as they looked, or was there a roughness to them as well? What would they feel like against mine? Slowly moving together, his tongue teasing at the corner of my mouth.
A slow burn was spreading through me. It was dangerous to be thinking about my bodyguard this way. I knew it. That was a big no-no. You never got involved with your bodyguards, not romantically. It could make things dangerous. If he was too focused on you, he couldn't do his job right. Still, I couldn't seem to stop my thoughts from going back to him, as if they were drawn there by a power beyond my control.
I settled into bed and picked up my book from my bedside table. I didn't open it though, my mind elsewhere.
There had been a strength and grace in his movements that seemed even beyond his physical appearance. I hadn't realized it before, but he'd moved well for someone of his size. Most bodyguards who had that broad chest and even broader shoulders moved a certain way, like football players. Elias hadn't moved like that. His movements had been graceful, fluid, the way large cats seemed to be. I had the sudden desire to know what it would be like to watch his muscles ripple under his skin as he moved, watch them flex and roll as he walked.
I swallowed hard. The warmth that had been spreading through me before had converged low in my belly. I'd never felt arousal so sharp before, and certainly not for someone who'd I met only once and for such a brief time. This wasn't just about the cut of his jaw or his well-developed body. This was something deeper. I'd felt it the moment our eyes had met and the more I thought about him, the more certain I was that there was a connection between Elias and I.
I put my book aside. I wasn't going to be able to concentrate. Not with him in my thoughts. What was it about him that drew me to him? Why did I feel like I could trust him? I might have been a hopeless romantic when it came to stories, but I didn't believe in that in real life. Fate, destiny, sure, but love at first sight? Come on. I didn't believe in that.
Did I?
Chapter Six
All right, I had to admit it, I really did feel better after taking a day to rest. Harrison had been right. I'd needed that day. I grimaced as I looked in the mirror. My make-up team was going to have fun tonight. There was about as much discolored flesh on my face as there was of my usual fair complexion. It looked bad enough that I decided to skip my morning slash afternoon run. The last thing I needed was the paparazzi snapping pictures of me looking like I went a couple of rounds with, well, a car.
I was pretty sure Harrison had already done a press release about what had happened, but I knew the press. They were going to have a field day with this, especially since the man who had attacked me was, as far as I knew, still in the hospital and the police were no closer to figuring out what had happened. Although, I couldn't say that I expected them to call me when they did figure it out. Linden and Thomas didn't exactly seem like the sharing type.
One look at Kevin's face when he arrived told me that he already knew what had happened. I didn't know if Harrison had called him, if Paul had told him at the door or if he'd found out through the news, but I was just glad I didn't have to explain it. He didn't comment on it. In fact, the only indication he gave that he'd even noticed was that we didn't do anything strenuous, only exercises that focused on flexibility and balance, just like we did right before or right after a particularly physical day on set, or if I was ill.
Once we finished, since I didn't have any errands that needed to be run, I began my usual practice of studying my scenes for the day. The network had sent over the day's call sheet since everything had to be changed around due to me not going in the night before which meant that two of the scenes I'd been prepared to do were now being shot tomorrow and a romantic scene between my character and Bryson's was being done tonight.
Time flew past as I became engrossed in my work and only the alarm on my phone reminded me to eat. After my light meal, however, I found it much harder to focus, my thoughts continually straying to that time of the day when Elias would be coming. I'd never been like this before, nervous and unsure while waiting for someone. I'd spent my entire life meeting new people as I moved from one set to another. I didn't remember ever being even a little anxious.
I'd always had that confidence that came with having been a success from a young age. I'd heard more than one story about times when I'd walked on sets like I owned them, without a trace of trepidation. Now, however, I found that all of my previous confidence had vanished.
Usually when I dressed for work, I'd keep it simple and comfortable since I'd be changing into my character's wardrobe once I got to set. Generally comfortable meant jeans and either a t-shirt or a sweatshirt, but occasionally I had been known to show up in something a bit more casual. Most of the time when I wore something like swea
tpants, it was because I wasn't feeling well. If any day should have afforded me the luxury of casualness, it was today, but I found myself taking care as I selected my outfit.
I'd never been one to flirt or dress to attract attention, but I couldn't help but think about what Elias might think about each garment I chose. It was funny, really, since I didn't know him well enough to truly know what he would think, but I couldn't help but wonder. Would he prefer a fitted blouse or a nice sweater? Dress pants or jeans? Boots or casual shoes?
After several minutes of indulging in my thoughts, I shook my head, then winced, immediately regretting the movement. That hadn't been a very good idea, but the pain cleared my mind. I needed to focus on doing my job. I didn't have time for mooning over some guy like a smitten teenager. I hadn't been like that when I had been a teenager and there was no reason for me to start now. I'd wear what I always wore.
I may have chosen a pair of casual jeans and my most comfortable hoodie to wear to work, but I couldn't quite manage to stop my palms from sweating or my heart from pounding as I waited for Elias to arrive. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to pull myself together.
By the time Elias arrived, I hadn't managed to completely make myself cool and calm, but I'd at least been able to harness my acting skills and make myself appear to be composed. One look at those green eyes, however, and my heart was flipping in my chest. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I walked towards him and my face flamed red. Nothing on Elias's face indicated that he'd seen what had happened or that he noticed my flush, but that didn't make me feel any less embarrassed.
“Mr. Stevens collected my signature.” His voice was low, almost sensual, though the words were anything but. “Is anything else needed before we depart?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I kept silent during the ride to the set, staring out the window in an attempt to appear aloof. I usually tried very hard to be friendly to my employees, but I didn't trust myself with this one. Based on the number of times I stole glances at him on the ride, my concern was justified. To my chagrin, the last time, Elias caught me. I kept my eyes on the scenery after that. It was going to be a long night.
Work sucked. I mean, really. It took me longer than usual to get into character, and I flubbed more lines in that first scene than I had in the entire previous episode. Everyone was very understanding, not even showing the slightest annoyance. All of them were so sweet and nice—well, everyone except Summer Cooper, but she was pretty much a bitch all of the time—and they all told me how bad they felt about what had happened to me. I appreciated their compassion, but I also felt undeniably guilty because I knew that only part of my problem was the events from two nights ago. No matter where I was on set, I could feel Elias's eyes on me.
Throughout the night, Elias was one hundred percent professional, keeping the background and staying out of the way. It was almost eerie how still and silent he could be. I got the sense that he was aware of everything happening around us, that he never focused on only one specific thing. It made me wonder what it would be like to have that intensity all directed at one thing, all directed at me. The thought was almost enough to distract me again.
Almost.
Despite my strange ability to sense Elias's presence, I managed to focus on the next scene, and things got easier. By the time the director was ready to wrap, I was back in my old rhythm. Now, if only I could keep it through the next two days, we'd be all good to wrap for Thanksgiving. Not that I was doing anything for the holiday, but I knew that my friends had plans and I didn't want to ruin anything for them.
I was still thinking about the upcoming holidays as Elias drove me home. My parents had always thrown huge parties for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When I'd been a kid, I'd loved the parties. We'd always have a massive Thanksgiving feast that ended with everyone helping decorate the huge mansion I'd apparently bought when I was a toddler. There were lights and garlands and ribbons.
The tree went in the entry hall, towering fifteen feet high so that when the interior decorator came the next day to redo the decorations professionally, she'd made the servants climb on stepladders. Okay, that sounded a bit pretentious. We'd had a maid, a butler and a gardener. Everyone else had been part-time. Yeah, that was still a little pretentious.
It hadn't been until I'd been eleven or twelve that I'd realized that my parents wanted everyone over to show off what we'd had and not because they actually liked most of them. I'd tried to keep loving the parties after that, but it'd been hard. The magic had been gone.
After I'd been emancipated, I'd known not to bother asking my parents about the holidays. They'd made it pretty clear how they'd felt about me the moment the judge had ruled. Fortunately, it hadn't been long after that I'd found Harrison and he'd invited me to spend Christmas Day with his family. He was out of town every Thanksgiving, spending it in Texas with his wife's family, but even having a few hours when I almost felt like part of a family made the rest of it bearable. Still, there were times I missed having a traditional Thanksgiving meal.
“Miss Rhines,” Elias interrupted. “Are you all right? You have been very quiet this morning.”
An idea popped into my head, and before I could stop and think about it, the words came out of my mouth. “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?” After a beat, I backpedaled and explained. “I was just thinking about the holidays and how I always spend Thanksgiving alone, eating whatever I happen to have available.” I really hoped I didn't sound whiny. I wasn't trying to complain, just state a fact.
“I do not understand.” Elias glanced up at the rearview mirror, his gaze catching mine for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road.
Now that I'd started it, I had to finish. “I just remember you saying that you didn't have any family, so I was going to say that, if you didn't have any plans for Thanksgiving, maybe, you could spend it with me.” The last few words came out in a rush. Had I really just done that? Had I asked my bodyguard out on a date?
Even though I couldn't see his face, I could sense his surprise. Wherever he'd thought I was going with my question, I didn't think he'd expected an invitation to a holiday meal.
“Miss Rhines,” Elias spoke as he turned into my driveway. “I am not so sure that would be wise.”
His tone was professional, but I could hear a note of wistfulness in the words. He was lonely, I realized suddenly. I had Harrison, but I didn't think Elias had even that. The idea of him being alone all of the time made my heart ache. From the moment I'd first seen him, I'd found Elias physically attractive, and had felt a connection between us.
Now, I just wanted to give him a hug. Nothing sexual about it. Well, okay, maybe a little, but not as much as you'd think. I'd always had a thing for 'strays,' those people who were abandoned and alone, especially the ones who tried to hide just how broken they were. Trust me, I didn't need a psychologist to tell me the reasons behind 'my type.'
Elias wasn't going to respond to flirting, but I did know one thing that would register with him. “Look at it this way,” I said. “I'm not going to ask Paul to give up Thanksgiving in Minnesota with his family, which means that if you're not going to spend the day with me, then I'll just be alone in that big empty house, with only my alarm system to protect me.” I had a feeling he could sense the smile playing around my lips, but he didn't comment on it.
“I cannot, in good conscience, allow that. I will be there, but it would be in a professional capacity only,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.
“Of course,” I agreed. “But you will have to eat sometime, right?”
Chapter Seven
I ignored the amused expression on Paul's face as he walked next to me at the grocery store. Even though Rufus was still in the hospital, Harrison had made sure that both of my bodyguards had understood the seriousness of the situation. Translation: I barely peed alone. Going to the supermarket by myself was out of the question. Usually, Paul just drove me and stayed in the c
ar unless there were paparazzi around. My normal approach to security was to be prepared, but to attempt to be as normal as possible.
The events of the past week, however, had made Paul's presence a little more necessary. This store, however, had been practically empty, so I'd told Paul to wait in the car. He'd just shaken his head and told me to deal with it. I'd almost asked him who was paying him, me or Harrison, but I'd just rolled my eyes and let him follow me. I had enough to do without arguing with him.
Thanksgiving was the day after tomorrow, and I had absolutely no clue what to do. I was a good cook, but I'd never done this type of meal before. I wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight's shoot was the last one before we took a long weekend. If I got all of the ingredients now, I could spend tomorrow finding all of the right recipes and getting everything together so that I could make the perfect meal on Thursday.
I had a suspicion that Paul knew what I was doing even though I hadn't said anything about my plans for Thanksgiving. He was leaving tomorrow afternoon and hadn't asked once if I was sure I'd be okay while he was gone. Either he'd assumed I was going to follow my usual holiday tradition of not leaving my house while on break, or he'd figured out that I wasn't exactly going to be alone. I knew that Elias had said it was going to only be professional, but I couldn't help imagining that this meal would change all that.
There was this scenario that just kept playing over and over in my head. Elias, having realized that I'd done all of this for him, sweeps me in his arms and kisses me. And it wouldn't be one of those old movie kisses where the actors would just mash their lips together and twist their heads back and forth. I knew exactly what it would be like.
Even though it would be our first kiss, there wouldn't be any timidity to it. Instead, it would be full of passion. His lips would open mine, his tongue tease at the parting until my tongue went out to meet his. They would twist and dance, chase each other back and forth between our mouths. His hands would start on my cheeks, then slide down my neck, his thumbs tracing my windpipe and then moving across my collarbone.
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