Heartbreaker (Hollywood Hearts Book 2)

by Belinda Williams

  I frowned. “For me?” I unfolded the paper and saw the corner was stained with coffee.

  “Open it.”

  I slid my finger along the edge, tearing the paper. I lifted out two tickets.

  “The Red Hot Chili Peppers?” I said at the same time as I saw ‘Access All Areas’ and ‘Backstage Pass’. “What is this?” I demanded.

  “Read the back.”

  I turned the tickets over and gasped, reading out loud. “Hey beautiful lady, we’d be honored if you joined us for some tunes this Saturday.” It was signed by Anthony Kiedis, Flea and the rest of the band members. “Marc, what did you do?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing really. I met them a few years back and they referred some work to us recently. I gave them a call to say thanks and we got talking.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “About me?”

  He shrugged again. “They were concerned about you. They’d read all the shit in the media and figured out you were my client. They really would like you to come.”

  I couldn’t hide it any longer and gave him a wide smile. “You’re amazing.”

  Marc blinked. “OK.”

  I laughed, secretly enjoying the surprised reaction to my compliment. “I’m thrilled and of course I’ll go. I’ve never been to one of their concerts.”

  “I thought you said they were one of your favorite bands?”

  “They are, but I don’t know, I just never managed to see them before. When I was modeling, I was either traveling or working. Then I was so busy when my acting took off, and then I married Duncan and . . . ” I let my voice trail off, not wanting to continue.

  “And he wouldn’t go to a Chili Peppers concert.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” I admitted. “But that’s in the past and I’m going now. Who’s the extra ticket for?”

  “Whoever you want. I figured you’d take Ally or Chloe or—”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Come with me, Marc.”

  “You want me to go with you?” he said slowly.

  “That’s what I just said.”

  “Like on a date?”

  I hid a smile. He was uncomfortable and I found it endearing. “We’ve already been on a date, Nathan.”

  He scowled and my smile grew.

  “I can’t go with you as myself,” he said carefully.

  “I don’t care what you call yourself. I’d like you there.”

  He stepped in closer, trapping me against the bench. “Then I’ll be there. Or Nathan will be.”

  “I hope he’ll be more well-behaved this time.”

  He smirked. “Unlikely.” Then his smile faded. “Are you sure you’re OK with the act?”

  I attempted a carefree shrug. “It’s not the end of the world. So much of my life in Hollywood has been an act.”

  “And I know you hate that.”

  I smiled at him a little sadly. “I couldn’t ask you to blow your cover any more than you could ask me to stop acting.”

  “The case is over.”

  “I know. But you still don’t want the whole world to know who you are. It could compromise future work.”

  Marc stepped back and turned to look out the window. “My low profile is my doing. You’re the first client I’ve agreed to be seen with. And believe me, Kaden would be happy for the extra coverage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s been at me for years to build the business in a more high-profile way. Claims there’s plenty of clients that would happily sing my praises.” He turned back to me and leaned against the bench beside me, rolling his eyes. “He wanted us to write a book together about our time in Afghanistan. I told him what I thought of that idea.”

  I bet he had. “Why don’t you?” I said innocently, fully aware of what I was asking.

  “Why don’t I?” Marc sputtered. “Because it’s self-serving and egotistical and makes me no better than . . . ”

  “Than who? Hollywood? Me? Other actors?”

  He rubbed a hand over his cropped hair in frustration. “No, I didn’t say that. It’s just not me, Lena.”

  I caught his arm and threaded my fingers through his. “I know.”

  I hadn’t meant to antagonize him and I wasn’t going to have another debate about Hollywood with him. I just had a feeling his story was worth telling.

  “You don’t have to be something you’re not,” I continued. “And if you want to come as Nathan, I really don’t mind.”

  Marc squeezed my fingers and pulled me to him. “I’ll be there. We’ll deal with the publicity.”

  “And there will be publicity.”

  “It doesn’t scare me.”

  I touched his beard. “What does scare you?”

  His eyes searched mine. “Not publicity.”

  He kissed me and it didn’t take long for me to forget about what it was we’d been talking about.

  *

  “You’re going to the Red Hot Chili Peppers with Marc?” said Ally, not trying to hide her surprise.

  It was a couple of nights later and the girls had dropped by to see my new house. I’d just finished giving them the tour, which had been blissfully quick. Now we were standing in the kitchen drinking tea because we all had to get up early the next morning.

  I nodded. “It only seemed fair. He organized the tickets.” I ignored the way Chloe was grinning at me.

  Faith put her mug down on the counter. “Sounds off to me.”

  “Off? What could be off?”

  “You never wanted Marc around when you were his client, let alone to be seen with him. Something’s happened. Why would you want to voluntarily spend time with him now?”

  “Nothing’s happened,” I replied smoothly. “And he got me the tickets. He knows the band.”

  “Nope. Doesn’t fit. Did he finally make a move?”

  “What? Of course not!” OK, so that reply hadn’t been so calm.

  “He did,” Chloe sang, grinning from ear to ear. “He so did!”

  “He did not. I don’t even like him.” I felt a sharp pang as soon as I said it, but ignored it.

  “That’s because you love him!”

  The others burst out laughing at Chloe’s immature behavior and even I cracked a smile.

  “I don’t love him.”

  Faith’s smile turned sly. “Alright then, you want to fuck him.”

  “Faith!” Chloe gasped.

  Faith shrugged. “What? He’s hot. I’d go there if he was more my type.”

  “I haven’t slept with him.” Yet. It wasn’t a lie. “What’s your type anyway, Faith?” I said, genuinely curious.

  “Not Marc. And stop changing the subject. I don’t know why you’re fighting it. Someone like Marc makes sense after Duncan.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “So what? I need a rebound fling?”

  “I didn’t say that. It would just be nice to see you with someone with more passion.”

  “Duncan had passion,” I said quietly.

  “For Hollywood and your career,” said Ally.

  I didn’t want to think about Duncan. “I’m not sure why you think Marc has passion. He’s got such a rock-hard shell it’s a wonder he let me see underneath . . .” I let my voice trail off when I realized what I’d said.

  Chloe squealed and Faith grabbed her mug and put it on the counter before it spilled.

  Chloe clapped her hands together. “I’m so happy for you, Lena. Marc is such a sweetheart.”

  The others, and me included, stared at her.

  “He is,” she insisted. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at Lena. Like she’s his princess.”

  I swallowed a mouthful of tea and coughed.

  Faith patted me on the back. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the idea. So come on, what changed?”

  “Yeah, Lena. Why won’t you tell us?” asked Ally, looking a little hurt, and I immediately felt guilty.

  Ally was used to how intensely private I was, but I hadn’t meant to keep things from
her. It also wasn’t like Marc and I had fallen in love. Since the other night, I hadn’t seen him again and wouldn’t do so until the night of the concert. I guess we were staying in touch. He messaged me at least once a day and then we’d text some more—usually about my safety. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was kind of nice.

  With a sigh, I went to one of the stools and sat down. I told the girls a bit more about my time at the ranch with Marc and how we’d grown to trust each other. The bit about him stripping me naked in my new library I kept to myself.

  “He was a Marine, not in the FBI?” said Chloe, sounding impressed. “And he’s got a daughter? Why isn’t he married anymore?”

  I hadn’t gone into too much detail about why he’d left the Marines, nor was I going to. I felt strange about talking about his ex-wife, too. “I think being a Marine put a lot of pressure on their marriage, but he didn’t really say. It’s pretty obvious it’s in the past.”

  “That may be,” said Ally. “But it’s important you understand his background.”

  I gave her a sympathetic look. Ally and Jake had endured a rough patch when he’d had to deal with some things from his past, so I knew she was speaking from experience.

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t think we’re at the stage yet.”

  “Have you discussed Duncan with him?” Chloe asked.

  “Well, yes, but that’s different. He knows almost everything about me.”

  The women didn’t say anything—they didn’t need to.

  “He’s not the sort of man you can push,” I said.

  “That’s more of a reason to worry,” said Faith.

  Her statement surprised me. “Do you think so?”

  “Take it from me. The things you want to leave buried are the same ones that come back to bite you when you least expect it.”

  I ignored a feeling of unease and forced myself to smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Come on, let me show you the pool area where we’re going to host the party next week.”

  Chapter 31

  “This is amazing!”

  Marc smiled at me. A real, genuine smile that formed little creases around his eyes and did funny things to my stomach.

  He grabbed my hand. “I’m glad.”

  We could barely hear each other. The Red Hot Chili Peppers had just finished a song and the cheers from the crowd were deafening.

  “This one’s for you, California!” Anthony, the lead singer, called out.

  Another wave of cheers washed over us and I laughed, buoyed by the vibe from the audience. It felt so good to laugh. And I needed to do more of this. ‘This’ being living life and doing things I enjoyed instead of working like a woman possessed.

  “Come here.” Marc caught me around the waist and pulled me to him so my back was against his chest.

  We’d been allowed to watch the concert from offstage. It didn’t quite have the same effect as being out in the huge arena, but my security team was happier with this arrangement. It also limited our exposure to the media, and this way the Chili Peppers were so close I could almost reach out and touch them.

  The first bars of Californication echoed around us and it seemed appropriate. As messed-up as LA could be, it was my home.

  I twisted in Marc’s arms and pressed my lips to his. It was a thank you and a lot more than that, too.

  “Hey.” He brushed my hair back and held my face in his hands. “Are those tears?”

  I blinked them away. “I’m fine.”

  He kissed me so hard I was almost lifted off my feet, then he drew back, pressing his lips to my ear so I could hear him without shouting.

  “No more fine. Do you hear me? No acting. Just tell it to me like it is. I can handle it.”

  I indulged myself and rested my cheek on his for a moment, then moved back so he could see me.

  “I’m happy, Marc. For the first time in a long time, I’m really happy.”

  He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, then his lips were on mine again. I lost myself to him and the beat that pounded through us, my head filled with dreams of Californication.

  *

  We were both quiet on the way home. I was equal parts content and unsettled, if that was possible. Content because I’d enjoyed myself, and unsettled because the possibility of experiencing more of what Marc had offered me the other day was making me feel giddy.

  As if he sensed my mood, Marc kept glancing over at me, and halfway through the journey he rested his hand on my leg. Heat spread from my fingers to my toes and the giddiness turned to a rush of desire.

  I didn’t speak the rest of the way, but that was something I liked about being with Marc. I didn’t need to.

  When he pulled up in front of the house, he killed the motor and turned off the lights. The security detail that had been escorting us drove past and parked at the far side of the garage.

  We waited while the two men got out and disappeared into the garage, then we continued to sit there in the darkness. It was so quiet I could hear the steady sound of his breathing. The way my heart was pounding I wondered if he could hear it, too.

  “I’ll walk you in.”

  I didn’t wait for him to come around and open the door. I grabbed my purse and marched to the front steps. My key was already in the lock when he joined me.

  “Wait.” He put an arm in front of me to prevent me from going in. Then he raised a hand and waved to the camera discreetly installed in the eaves.

  A second later his cell phone rang. Obviously it was the guys stationed in the garage. After a short conversation, he finished the call and lowered his arm. “We’re good.”

  I sighed and walked down the hallway, my earlier anticipation evaporating. I was back to the real world now. Well, my real world, anyway.

  I went to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. I needed a cup of herbal tea to settle my mixed-up emotions. Marc followed behind and watched me while I dropped a teabag into the mug and poured the steaming hot water. I didn’t offer him one.

  It was only when I brought the mug to my lips that he spoke.

  “What’s pissed you off?”

  “Nothing.”

  He grimaced, and I remembered my earlier promise to be open with him.

  I sighed. “Just all the security. It’s so tiring. I feel like I’m living my life constantly on camera.”

  “I thought you didn’t mind that.”

  I shot him a dark look and I saw him hide a grin.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s not.” His grin faded. “Your bedroom isn’t on camera.”

  I wasn’t sure if he’d meant it that way, but the room suddenly felt powered by an invisible charge.

  I put the mug on the counter. “I thought you were only going to walk me in.”

  “I didn’t want to make any assumptions.”

  “That didn’t stop you in the library.”

  His eyes turned dark. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  I walked around to stand in front of him. “Well, maybe I can’t either.”

  Still holding his gaze I ran a hand over the hard contours of his chest, across his abs and stopped just above his waist.

  “What happens if we turn the lights off? Can they see us?”

  “Yes.”

  “For God’s sake,” I muttered. “Bedroom. Now.” His eyebrows rose and I shoved him gently so that he was forced to turn around. I put both hands on his hips and pushed him toward the hall.

  He chuckled and I glared at his annoyingly attractive back.

  “It’s not funny.”

  He raised his hands as I guided him along. “I didn’t say anything.”

  When we entered the bedroom, I left the lights off. While the cameras in here were switched off unless there was an emergency, the floor to ceiling windows let in plenty of moonlight.

  I closed the door behind me then grabbed his hips before he could walk away. His amusement didn’t last long when I pressed him against the back of the door and started un
doing his belt buckle.

  He watched me in silence, his eyes dark with desire.

  Good. He felt it, too.

  The buckle came free with a loud metallic clink. Not breaking our gaze, I slipped my hands into his jeans then beneath his underwear, and gripped his backside as I pressed myself against him. Marc released a shuddering breath and pressed his forehead to mine.

  With a satisfied smile, I ducked my head and made slow, delicious work of pushing his jeans down his legs. He kicked them out of the way when they hit the floor.

  I placed my hands inside his pants again then brought one around to cup him. The hardness of him pressed against my palm and he let out a quiet groan.

  That was the only sign I needed. I pushed his jocks down roughly. No teasing this time.

  “Lena,” he whispered as I crouched in front of him.

  I held him with my hand and circled my thumb over the tip.

  He groaned louder this time. I smiled and ran my tongue along the length then slipped him into my mouth.

  God, this was better than I’d imagined. I knew I’d wanted to do this ever since the library, but I hadn’t anticipated the surge of pleasure I’d experience seeing him like this.

  I kept my eyes on him and enjoyed watching his control falter. He rested his hands on my shoulders and soon he was holding them firm as I increased the pace. His head fell back against the door and I saw him swallow, once, twice, squeezing his eyes shut like what I was doing was too much. Like I was too much.

  “Stop.” His voice was hoarse.

  I slowed and gave him a questioning look.

  “If you go for much longer it’ll all be over. I want you, Lena.”

  I eased back. “I want you too.”

  “Then let me see you.”

  I stood up and slipped my T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. Tonight we’d both worn jeans. I removed mine and added them to the pile, standing in front of him in only my bra and panties.

  I walked back over to him and slipped my hands underneath the shirt he was wearing, then helped him push it over his head. I barely noticed the way his eyes were roaming my body because mine were doing the same.

  “Come here.”

  Then his hands were undoing my bra, pushing my panties off, and we were skin on skin but it still wasn’t enough. There was nothing calm or measured anymore, only longing and need, and the desperate hunger to be close to each other.