Before Chris could say anything, Liev brushed past him and up the stairs, taking each rise two at a time.
The contact of the man’s broad shoulder against Chris’s licked through him, a hot sensation that made his breath catch and his gut knot.
He ground his teeth, balled his fists and stomped down the stairs. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Is there a problem, Mr. Huntley?”
He snapped his head up at Bethany’s question.
She stood at the bottom step, watching him with a worried frown. She’d changed clothes during his shower, replacing the casual jeans and shirt she’d been wearing with a prim and proper linen pantsuit. The emerald green of the material brought out the green in her eyes, highlighted the auburn copper in her strawberry-blonde hair. The tailored cut of the suit emphasized her tiny waist and petite form. In her arms, she held two iPads, a folder he knew contained the approved question list for the reporters along with other information the studio deemed appropriate to share, and the latest editions of the two main newspapers published in Sydney.
At breakfast, Bethany had read each one twice, circling articles of interest she told Chris he should familiarize himself with during the boat trip to the south side of the harbour. “It’s very good for the local journalists to see you are aware of what is happening in their city,” she’d pointed out, drawing a red line around a small article with the headline Girl, 8, Saves Koala. “It makes you less the Hollywood movie star and more human in their eyes.”
At the memory of her instruction, a stirring of respect for her insight twisted through his grumpy frustration. His last P.A. hadn’t thought to prep him for foreign reporters. All Tilly had tried to do when he was last in Australia was kill his sister.
Bethany studied him, poised and direct and utterly professional. If she did have an agenda, there was no sign of it now. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Huntley?”
His cock, still heavy with tension from his stairway collision with Liev, throbbed.
Biting back a curse, he shook his head. “I’m fine, Bethany.” He walked past her to the kitchen. “Just on edge about the press conference.”
“Do you want me to add the situation at the restaurant to the off-limit questions?”
Chris snorted. There was only one off-limit question on Chris’s list—do not ask about his parents’ ten-year-old unsolved murder. A group of fans going wild when he arrived at a restaurant hardly counted as something as traumatic as that. Unless Bethany was referring to the other restaurant situation, and as far as Chris was aware, she didn’t know about that.
Maybe Liev told her? They do seem to have developed a close relationship in the short time they’ve known each other. Holy shit, maybe everyone knows? Maybe the restaurant owner had a security camera in his office and the kiss is now public knowledge? Holy shit, what—
“Mr. Huntley?” The alarm in Bethany’s voice yanked Chris away from the horrifying thought. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
He pulled in a sharp breath. “Is there anything new on the gossip sites about me? Anything about what happened at the restaurant?”
Bethany studied him for a second, her eyebrows knitting before she lowered her attention to the top iPad and tapped her fingers against its screen. A few moments later, she returned her focus to Chris again. “No.”
He let out a ragged breath and then sucked it in again when Liev appeared behind Bethany, his broad shoulders and wide chest looking impossibly powerful in a crisp white business shirt, his long muscular legs wrapped in tailored ash-grey suit pants, his damp honey-brown hair slicked back from his face.
Chris’s chest constricted. His stomach clenched. His groin tightened.
Goddamn it, the guy was fucking hot. How the hell was Chris to concentrate on being funny and witty and entertaining with Liev around?
He stared at the man, the lump in his throat rivaling the one growing in his jeans.
“I think,” he said, the words a hoarse rasp, “it will be best if Mr. Reynolds isn’t present at the press conference.”
Liev’s nostrils flared. His spine straightened, an almost imperceptible tension claiming his muscles. His jaw bunched.
Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Because?”
Chris swallowed. “Because I think…” He stopped, his mouth too dry to speak.
Because I wouldn’t be able to hide the way he turns me on, goddamn it.
“The focus would become the situation yesterday,” Liev said when Chris didn’t finish, his stare holding Chris’s over Bethany’s shoulder. “Not the film. Easier to brush off what happened yesterday as a freak moment if the bodyguard isn’t there as a constant reminder.”
The statement hit Chris like a swift slap. To Bethany, what happened yesterday and a freak moment would mean the crowd going mad. To Liev it meant so much more. Chris could see it in the man’s eyes. In the tension in his body. Could hear it in the dismissive tone of his voice, in his choice of words. The bodyguard. Liev had impersonalized himself to a position, a role. With those two words, he’d reminded Chris what he was. An employee. One who had already pointed out the kiss they’d shared was inappropriate and couldn’t happen again.
In one simple statement, Liev Reynolds had summarized it all—a freak moment. It was time for Chris to get a grip on his stupid, confused libido and get on with being what he was—an actor who made viewers around the world laugh with his sharp wit and mischievous grin. A man who made women everywhere swoon with his smoldering good looks.
People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive twice running and the subject of constant speculation in celebrity magazines and websites as to which famous woman he was sleeping with now, and which one would be next.
In other words, a straight Hollywood sex symbol.
Not a man undone by another man.
He couldn’t be that. Ever. His career wouldn’t let him.
Even if he wanted to.
And Chris was beginning to fear that was exactly what he wanted.
Fuck it.
Chapter Seven
The press conference went on forever. The award-winning actress cast as his love interest flirted with him for the entire duration, even hinted that their sex scenes in the movie were “intensely real”. The tough-guy action star who played the antagonist professed to being jealous of Chris’s career, jesting Chris beat him up on set often. More than one reporter congratulated Chris on becoming an uncle.
Chris endured it all. He dropped jokes when needed, flirted right back with Scarlett, suggested the “intensely real” sex scenes were so intense the film’s director had to call cut over and over to get their attention, and challenged Vin to an arm-wrestle there and then.
The Australian press ate it all up.
They laughed in all the right places, smirked knowingly whenever he and Scarlett spoke to each other, complimented them all on how fantastic and action-packed and believable the film was, and generally made the morning one of the easiest press conferences Chris had attended.
Chris couldn’t wait until the damn thing was finished.
He sat in his chair next to his leading lady, all too aware there would be countless stories appearing in the media tomorrow. Articles that would speculate about his on-set affair with the sexy-as-sin actress. Gossip columns dedicated to their “smoldering chemistry” even off screen. He should be joyous, knowing how the talk would be good for his career. Instead, he wondered where Liev was the whole time.
Wondered and hated himself for it.
He had to do something about it. Soon.
Before he cracked.
When the studio’s Australian representative asked for one last question from the reporters, Chris couldn’t hold back his sigh of relief.
And then the reporter selected to ask that last question did the unthinkable.
“Mr. Huntley.” A woman who looked like she’d stepped straight out of a life-size Barbie box rose to her feet. “Do you still feel safe here in
Australia after what happened yesterday at the Salted Olive restaurant?”
Chris’s breath stuck in his throat.
He stared at the reporter, for a frozen moment lost for words.
Silence hung in the room, the press expectant and hungry.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bethany move.
“Has it tainted your opinion of our country?” the female reporter asked, obviously deciding to ask more questions despite his failure to answer the first. “Have you fired your Australian bodyguard?”
He blinked. He heard the film’s heroine shift on her seat beside him. The actor on Chris’s other side cleared his throat.
The reporter waited. Everyone waited.
“No,” he finally said, leaning forward on his seat to give the woman a relaxed grin. “The last time I was in Australia I was sexually ravaged by an amorous kangaroo.” He dropped the reporter a wink. “Once you’ve been humped by a marsupial, hundreds of screaming fans are a cakewalk.”
The room burst out in raucous guffaws.
Chris let out a slow breath. His heart hammered away in his chest a mile a minute. Before he could stop himself, he turned to Bethany, wishing to hell he’d find Liev there with her. But of course, Liev wasn’t. He’d stayed outside, out of the reporters’ sights, just as he’d said he would.
Chris’s heart beat harder. A heavy lump filled his throat. Damn it, he hadn’t realized just how quickly he’d grown accustomed to the man being with him every moment of the day until he wasn’t.
“All right then.” The Australian studio representative walked onto the dais. “That’s it for the day. I’d like to thank the stars of Dead Even for rocking up for this morning when it’s such a beautiful day outside.” He turned and smiled at Chris and his fellow cast members. “On behalf of the people of Australia, let me say enjoy the rest of your time here and I hope you have fun at the red-carpet screening tonight.”
The gathered reporters and photographers all clapped. Chris grinned at them, rising to his feet. The other two actors did the same. The room erupted in cheers and blinding camera flashes when the stunning actress leant over to Chris and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
Chris laughed, posed some more with his leading lady and then—doing his best to not appear impatient—excused himself.
He had to get away. He needed to see Liev. Even if the Australian wasn’t speaking to him, wouldn’t even look at him, Chris needed to see him.
Which was stupid, but the way it was.
With a final murmured farewell to his co-stars, he hurried over to Bethany where she stood waiting for him at the side of the dais.
“I need to get out of here.”
She handed him a bottle of coconut water. “Yes, you do. You have an appearance at the Royal Sydney Children’s Hospital in forty minutes.”
Chris raked his hands through his hair. “Where’s Reynolds?”
Bethany raised an eyebrow. “Feeling unsafe, Mr. Huntley?”
Without waiting for his answer, she turned and walked toward the door through which his co-stars and their respective entourages were disappearing. Chris swallowed. He’d been one of those actors once upon a time. He’d had an entourage that partied with him, shopped with him, spent his money for him and generally agreed to everything he said. Then his sister had disbanded it and he’d discovered being famous didn’t give him the right to a free pass of indulgence. Now he survived with just Bethany, Jeff and, when home in the States, Rowan and Aslin. He’d been completely and utterly content with that.
Was he still as content? He couldn’t be, given that Liev Reynolds made him feel complete when he hadn’t realized he wasn’t whole. Surely?
Letting out a shaky breath, he exited the press-conference room. The media spilled out another door a few metres away. As he walked toward where Bethany waited, he heard his name mentioned often. He had to stop himself from turning to look at every male Australian accent.
He followed Bethany to the elevators being held for the celebrity guests, biting his tongue to stop himself asking again where Liev was.
The trip down to the car-park level with his fellow Dead Even cast members seemed to go on for an eternity. He did his best to engage in the conversation with the other actors, discussing the red-carpet event that night, the Australian media versus the American, how cuddly koalas were and what their next film projects were. He felt Bethany’s steady scrutiny on him the entire descent. When the elevator finally chimed and the doors slid open, it was all he could do to not sigh with relief.
Saying goodbye to everyone, he walked out of the enclosed, confining space before anyone else could exit.
He stopped dead when his gaze fell upon Liev standing beside the parked Audi a few feet away.
A wave of tortured happiness rolled over Chris. He swallowed, killing the smile wanting to stretch his lips before it could do so. His gut knotted. Never had he been so fucking confused. And it wasn’t like he wanted to slam the guy against the SUV and tongue-fuck his mouth. All he wanted to do was walk over to the man and be in his presence. Feel his gaze on his face as he spoke about the press conference. Share with him the surreal experience of being the focus of so many people’s unwavering attention. Make a dumb joke about being a celebrity and hear Liev laugh at it.
Christ, all he wanted to do was just exist with Liev.
But he couldn’t. The Australian had withdrawn from him for professional reasons. They were now, more than ever, famous boss and mute bodyguard.
It fucking sucked.
“I’d heard Australian men could be stubborn.” Bethany’s voice beside Chris made him jump. He swung his stare to her face, willing his heart to slow down. “But that one…” She nodded at Liev and then shook her head.
As if aware he was the subject of their conversation, Liev turned to the back passenger door and opened it, his focus sliding over the surrounding cars.
“Hurry the fuck up, dude,” Jeff called through the open driver’s seat window. “The GPS tells me it’s going to take me thirty minutes to travel six kilometres, and to be honest, I haven’t got a damn clue how long a kilometre is.”
Bethany tsked once beside Chris, chuckled and gave him a twisted-lip smile. “Ready, Mr. Huntley?”
He nodded, drew in a slow breath and crossed to the Audi. Liev didn’t say a word, just continued to scan the surrounding area. Nor did he say anything to Chris for the rest of the day. He did his job well. He made sure Chris wasn’t swarmed by enrapt hospital staff and visiting family at the Children’s Hospital. He stayed in the background, his expression friendly if somewhat serious. Chris didn’t miss the sneaky smiles and grins he gave the children in their sickbeds as they were led through the hospital by the doctor. Every time Liev bestowed a grin on a giggling, curious child, Chris’s chest grew tighter. Every time the Australian winked at one of them, the lump in Chris’s throat grew thicker.
Two hours later, Chris was a goddamn emotional wreck. The courage of the sick children tore at his heart. Their open joy at sharing time with a famous actor despite their debilitating—and in some cases—terminal illnesses humbled him. He found himself overwhelmed by their happiness and fighting spirits. He thanked God often for his sister and promised himself he would hug her senseless when he returned to the States.
If it weren’t for Liev, he wouldn’t have made it. He’d lifted his attention to the man more than once to find him looking at him. Every time their gazes would connect for a moment, just a stolen moment, before Liev looked away.
Every time he did, Chris died a little inside. What made it worse was the way Bethany watched it all. She was smart, smarter than he, Rowie or Aslin had anticipated. If he wasn’t careful, his P.A. would suspect something was going on.
What would she do then?
It was only when they were seated in the SUV again, Bethany sitting beside him in the back, Liev in the front with Jeff, that Chris allowed himself to relax. They were returning to the waterfront mansion. Out of the public eye for a few
hours before the red-carpet screening of Dead Even. He’d send Bethany out with Jeff to find some take-out, maybe Italian or Mexican, and then confront Liev. Make the bastard talk to him. Demand Liev tell him what was going on in his head.
Demand Liev kiss him again. One more time, so Chris could test Liev’s theory that the kiss in the restaurant was just a freak moment.
It was a sound plan. One Chris was pleased with.
Liev shattered any hope of carrying out the plan however, by announcing he had to leave Chris in Bethany and Jeff’s capable hands for a couple of hours a short time after they arrived back at the mansion.
Standing in the middle of the living room, Chris frowned at the man. “Why?”
“My niece has locked herself out of her home. She sent me a text just as we were pulling into the driveway. My brother and his wife are still at work and Caitlin needs to get inside to finish a school assignment that’s due tomorrow.” Liev dropped his attention to his cell phone, tapped on the screen in a quick series of jabs with his thumb and then lifted the phone to his ear. “I will be back before you leave for the red-car—” He stopped, held up a finger and half-turned away from Chris. “Heya, Turps?” he spoke into the phone, his free hand dragging at his hair. “You on duty? I need to get to Balmain ASAP. Can you get me—excellent, excellent. Yeah, same place. Okay. No worries. I’ll be out front. See you in ten.”
Shoving his phone into his pocket, he turned back to Chris. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Bethany won’t open the door to anyone, and Jeff has my permission to punch anyone who tries to climb up the balcony.”
It was said in jest. Chris could see that. For some reason however, it angered him. “Gee, anyone would think I’m incapable of protecting myself.”
A still calm fell over Liev. He fixed Chris with a steady, unreadable stare. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? To protect you?”
Chris ground his teeth. “I did punch the shit out of Aslin Rhodes, you know. Twice.”
Liev had the nerve to chuckle, the edges of his eyes crinkling with mirth. If Chris weren’t so damn irritated he’d revel in the simple fact he’d made Liev laugh. “I saw those punches. It was my first day watching over you from a distance on set. Suffice to say, Rhodes didn’t seem hurt.”
Guarded Desires Page 7