“It doesn’t look that way.”
I was so stupid. Of course, the fire wasn’t an accident, but everything had happened so quickly I hadn’t really allowed myself to think about it. Correction. I hadn’t wanted to think about it. “OK,” I said flatly.
“OK?” he echoed, obviously surprised.
“Yes, OK. I do trust you. Mostly.”
“Good enough.”
He rose and some of that manly shower-fresh scent wafted my way again. At least it was good to know the fire hadn’t ruined my sense of smell.
He regarded me thoughtfully. “You’ll like it.”
“What?”
“Where I’m taking you.”
My stomach twisted. It had to be from the drugs, because the idea of Marc taking me anywhere wasn’t remotely appealing. “How long for?”
“We’ll play it by ear. You’ll need the sling for six weeks—”
“Six weeks!”
He smirked and my stomach twisted some more. Damn medication.
“Unless you’re a quick healer.”
“I’m a quick healer,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Good. Rest up because we leave tomorrow.”
I didn’t say anything, although part of me—a big part—was secretly grateful I wouldn’t have to stay in hospital very long. I watched Marc walk purposefully from the room, then quickly averted my eyes when I realized my gaze had lowered to his jean-clad ass.
When he was gone, I closed my eyes and swallowed a sickening feeling of helplessness.
*
“It can’t be that bad,” Ally said to me during her visit the following afternoon.
“Oh, yes it can,” I told her. “I’m spending days, potentially weeks, in an undisclosed location with him.”
“Marc’s not that bad,” she repeated. “At least he’s nice to look at.”
“You sound like Chloe,” I accused.
“I’m trying to look on the bright side. You used to be pretty good at that,” my oldest friend reminded me.
I sighed and offered her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I guess I am having a bit of a pity party, which is not like me.”
“No, it’s not like you, but I understand why.” Ally’s gaze dropped to my sling and she reached across for my good hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s just a plot twist, right?”
My smile turned genuine. I’d used those words when things hadn’t been going so well for her earlier in the year. “I think this one’s a thriller movie. There’s more than one plot twist.”
Ally’s brown eyes held concern. “Does Marc think the same person is responsible for the fire?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I haven’t asked him yet. I’ve been too busy feeling sorry for myself. But hey, I have plenty of time to grill him about it now, don’t I?”
Ally shook her head at me. “You’re so funny. It’s like you don’t want to like him or something.”
“It doesn’t matter if I like him or not. So long as he does his job, I’m happy.”
Her lips curled into a coy smile. “Oh, so that passionate kiss on the red carpet was all an act then?”
I felt my eyes widen but managed to rearrange my face into cool indifference. “The reporters gave me no choice.”
“I bet.”
Damn it. Her dark eyes held a challenge and I knew she was annoyed I hadn’t told her.
“It was nothing,” I said. “Really. It was purely for the cameras.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe you.”
I couldn’t help it, her casual dismissal made me smile. She really did know me far too well, but I still wasn’t about to admit the kiss had shaken me.
“See, here’s the thing,” she continued, also knowing me well enough to know I wouldn’t talk easily. “If it had been nothing, you’d already have mentioned it. The fact that I had to find out about it by seeing it in the media tells me it was something.”
“It was one kiss, Ally. That’s all.”
“So does Mr. Hot Lips taste as good as he looks?”
I couldn’t help myself and smiled again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Actually, no I’m good, thanks. Jake’s all the man I need, but you certainly looked to be enjoying it.”
“All an act,” I repeated.
“Sure. Maybe that’s why you hate him so much—because you like him.”
I resisted the urge to shake my head at her. “What are we? Fifteen? And I told you, I don’t like him.”
Ally grinned and I realized she was happy she’d brightened my mood.
“For all your banter, I can tell you respect Marc,” she said.
My smile faded. “Well, sure. He’s good at what he does. Even if he is annoying.”
“He’s only annoying because he challenges you.”
“No, he—”
“Yes, he does,” Ally corrected. “Me and Faith are about the only people you allow to challenge you. Me, because I’m your oldest friend, and Faith because, well, that’s just Faith. Marc does it without being asked though, and it pisses you off.”
“Wouldn’t it piss you off?”
“I’m not used to living in an ivory tower.”
Ouch.
Ally winced. “Sorry. Was that a bit much?”
I sighed and toyed with the edge of the sheet. “Do you really think so?” I asked after a beat of silence.
She nodded. “I’m afraid so. I know you haven’t tried to set it up that way, but over the last five years you’ve become surrounded by people—most of them in the industry—who have an interest in telling you what you want to hear.”
I rested my head against the pillow propped behind me. My shoulder was aching. The nurse would be in soon to give me some more painkillers and I wasn’t going to argue. It really did hurt. Ally’s words hurt more because they were true, but that’s what best friends were for. I really did love her, even when what she said sucked.
“It’s why I’m going through with the divorce with Duncan,” I said quietly.
Ally squeezed my hand again. “I know. Remember how you told me a while back that he hadn’t fallen in love with the real you? While you take the time to heal, try to think of this time away as a chance to be yourself and take a break from Hollywood. It’s not like you care what Marc thinks.”
I laughed then sucked in a sharp breath. God, that hurt. “That’s so true. And the stupid thing is, apart from you, he’s the one who probably knows the most about me.”
“Sort of. He knows the facts, not what’s in your heart.”
I looked sadly at my friend. “You know something? Sometimes I’m not even sure I know what’s in my heart anymore.”
Ally smiled at me. “Well, maybe this is the break you need to find out.”
Chapter 16
I left the hospital later that afternoon.
I should have guessed Marc would be strategic about our departure. He’d pre-arranged for us to leave at the same time as Ally—and it just so happened her world-famous, Hollywood actor boyfriend, Jacob Swan, had come along for the ride.
In his bright red Ferrari.
I could see the crowd of reporters swarming around the entrance to the hospital from my top-floor window. Flashes went off as Ally came down the steps and walked toward Jake’s car. He opened the driver’s door and got out to greet her and the mob closed in. Even from all the way up here I could hear the distant shouts as the reporters called out to them with questions.
It was strange seeing fame happen to someone else. I’d grown so used to being in the middle of it, watching it from afar felt like an out-of-body experience.
“Come on.”
I jolted and turned away from the window. I hadn’t heard Marc come in.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but we need to leave now.”
I cast one last glance at the window before I walked to his side. “Ally hates the paparazzi.”
Marc guided me from the room, his palm not quite resting on the small o
f my back. “I guess you have a pretty good friend then. She even asked if she should kiss Jake for the cameras.”
I forgot about his hand and grinned. “She’s always been good at making a spectacle of herself.”
Even Marc’s lips quirked. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“I don’t think most of Hollywood has either.”
Ally’s dramatic behavior at the Academy Awards earlier in the year had caused headlines. Unintended, of course.
We’d arrived at what appeared to be a staff elevator and Marc ushered me in. Behind us, two of my bodyguards, Matt and Emilio, followed us. Marc dropped his hand from my back and punched the button for one of the basement levels.
We rode in silence. There was no question the men surrounding me were in control, but I could feel the tension in the stuffy interior of the elevator. They were alert to every possibility—whether it was as simple as running into a person who recognized me or something more sinister.
The doors opened when we reached the basement and the men’s shoulders didn’t move, but I swore I felt them breathe out. Two other guys from my security detail stood waiting near an older model pickup truck, painted a questionable shade of white. Or at least I thought it was white. It was hard to tell on account of the grime all over it.
“Nice,” I said, as I was led to the vehicle.
“You’re in the real world now, Princess,” Marc replied without a hint of amusement, and I tried not to frown.
Was this how it was going to be for the next however long? Constant reminders of how out of touch I was with reality?
I didn’t have time to worry about it because the men wasted no time in getting me into the truck and closing the door firmly.
I looked around the cabin. “Classy,” I said to myself as Marc came around to the driver’s side. “This yours?” I added, when he hopped in.
“Not very smart of me to drive my own car when we’re trying to leave the city unnoticed.”
“We’re leaving the city?”
He started the engine and it turned over without the sputtering I would have expected from a truck of its age. But then I should have already known Marc wouldn’t leave anything to chance.
“Where did you think I’m taking you?” he asked as we moved off.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. A movement behind us made me glance in the rear-view mirror and I saw a navy sedan pull out behind us.
“Relax,” Marc said. “They’re with us.”
“The guys are coming too?”
“It’s a family road trip.” Despite the quip, Marc’s eyes were fixed on the parking lot around us, looking for any sign that we might have been noticed.
“Will they be staying with us?” I asked. I had no idea if Marc’s plan was to have me under twenty-four-hour surveillance wherever it was we were going.
“They’ll be nearby.”
“I hope you booked separate rooms. I’ll have you know I’m used to a suite.”
Marc’s dark brown eyes narrowed slightly and he glanced over at me. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t know, am I? That’s the problem with actors. You never can tell.” I wasn’t sure why I was teasing him, but he regularly caught me out with his own dry humor. Given the seriousness of the situation a bit of levity couldn’t hurt.
“You were good in that romantic comedy.”
Surprised, I twisted to get a better look at him, but my shoulder throbbed in protest. I forced myself to relax against the seat. “I didn’t picture you as a fan of romantic comedies.”
“I watched it on a plane trip. There was nothing else worth watching.”
“Right. I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. You do humor well.”
Still surprised by his unexpected praise, I answered honestly. “I almost didn’t take the role. Duncan didn’t want me to do it. It was my agent who convinced me.”
I watched with interest as a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Hopefully that taught you that Duncan isn’t always right,” he said eventually.
“No, he’s not,” I agreed. “It really is tiring how everyone thinks he had control of me.”
“Didn’t he?”
I was thankful he at least used the past tense. This time when I shifted to face him, I did so carefully, changing my seating position instead of twisting my upper body.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Ever?”
“Ever,” I stated firmly, wondering why I was even talking about my producer ex-husband with Marc. “It’s a story the media loves, and he never prevented it. It played to his ego too much.”
“Well, at least you’re aware of it.”
“Do you honestly think that little of me?” I closed my mouth as soon as the words came out. Where had they come from? And since when did I care what Marc thought?
“I don’t think much of him, I’ll tell you that much.”
“He’s an excellent producer.” Despite the less than desirable circumstances of our recent split, I still couldn’t hate Duncan entirely.
“But not a great person,” Marc finished for me.
“I don’t think he cares what you think of him.”
“That’s good, because I haven’t been too nice to him when he’s been calling me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. He keeps demanding to know where you are and what’s going on, like I answer to him.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And I hope you told him it’s none of his business.”
Marc’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Not in those exact words.”
I put a hand over my own mouth, hiding my own smile, and looked out the window. “I’m sorry,” I said again after a moment. “I spoke to him once yesterday but didn’t tell him anything and have been ignoring the rest of his calls. He has a bit of a God complex.”
“A bit?” Marc’s deep voice was full of disbelief. “He thinks he’s solely responsible for your success.”
“He thinks of me as his protégé,” I said simply. Or at least that was what I had realized when our marriage was over. Although I still believed Duncan had loved me in his own way, he’d always thought of my career first. It had all come to a bitter end when he’d thought telling the media that we were splitting up so I could be seen with Hollywood’s latest heartthrob, Jacob Swan, would be good for my profile. We’d only pretend to split up, of course, for six or twelve months. Except he’d neglected to tell me about his plan first and my publicist had released a statement before I knew about any of it.
Needless to say his lack of communication and questionable ideals were why I had filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences.
“You were never his protégé,” Marc’s deep voice cut through my thoughts. “He was lucky he found you when he did. You would have been snapped up in a second by the other studios.”
“I was still modeling when I met Duncan,” I pointed out. While it was nice Marc actually thought I had some talent, I had to give Duncan his due.
“Yeah, and you were on every magazine cover and billboard across America. It was only a matter of time.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked, genuinely interested in Marc’s perspective.
“I do. Don’t you?”
I turned to look out the window again. “It always felt like Duncan discovered me.”
“No, Lena. He saw something you hadn’t seen in yourself yet. That’s all. It doesn’t mean you owe him anything for that.”
“But he turned me into a household name—as far as my acting career is concerned. I don’t mind admitting that.”
“He uncovered you. He’s not responsible for your talents.”
“I know that. But he did support me so I could realize those talents.”
“To his own benefit.”
I fell silent. I still wasn’t sure why we were discussing this, but Marc seemed to have a strong opinion on the matter.
“He used you,�
� Marc said.
“He didn’t use—”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. You both got plenty out of it. Look at you now. You’re world-famous and rich to boot. For a long time I thought you were aware of the arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” I couldn’t keep up. One second he was being complimentary, the next he was criticizing me. “You’ve spent far too long thinking about this. It’s disturbing.”
“What’s disturbing is you’ve only just started to realize the situation for what it was. And I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it because he’s a suspect like everyone else.”
“Oh.” Well, that made more sense. I hadn’t even remotely considered Duncan would be a suspect. “God, don’t tell me you thought he could break into my house and do . . . that,” I said, referring to the sexual stalker. “Or burn it down?” If that was the case, then my life really had hit new lows. Not that I believed any of it for a second. Duncan was too worried about his reputation to sink to sick stunts like that, and despite being in his fifties there was no shortage of willing women available to him.
“No, I don’t think it was him, but I had to rule it out.”
I supposed I should be thankful for that. “Do you think the same person started the fire?” I was still avoiding using words like ‘sexual stalker’ if I could help it.
“At this stage, it’s unclear.”
I resisted a sigh at Marc’s clipped tone. I knew it was his job, but I was tired of how he never gave anything away. Wasn’t it exhausting hiding his thoughts and feelings all the time? And hadn’t he known me long enough that he could be a little more open about the investigation?
“Well, it would be nice to be kept informed if that would be possible,” I suggested, my tone also clipped.
I saw him blink then frown. “I always do.”
“No,” I corrected, “you usually arrest someone first, then tell me about it.” By the time I found out who the first two stalkers were they’d already been served with restraining orders, and the third and fourth ones had been arrested.
Marc’s frown deepened. “I’d call that doing my job.”
“Yes, you always do your job. It’s just that I’m usually the last to know about it.”
“I don’t understand,” Marc muttered, more to himself than me.
Heartbreaker (Hollywood Hearts Book 2) Page 10