by Maggie Marr
“Why is now the first I’m hearing about this?”
“Because we just closed the deal and that guy, the cross between Gerard Butler and Chris Hemsworth, was the sticking point in the negotiation. I knew you wouldn’t go for a bodyguard, but when they threatened to pull you and recast because of the financial risk to the studio, what else could I do?” Ari lifted his palms toward the ceiling and shrugged.
Ari was a solid agent. He schmoozed, he found good scripts, he managed her career, and if he said her accepting a bodyguard was a deal-breaker for Worldwide Studios , then it was. Damn. She slid her head down onto her arm. The cool marble surface pressed against her cheek. She closed her eyes.
Make it all go away. The threatening letters, the late-night phone calls with hang-ups, the black sedan, the break-ins . . . Rico . . . her parents. If only she could cut the bad parts from her life like an editor cut a film.
“If you want the part,” Ari said. “He comes with it.”
“He has a name.”
Stealth. Damn, he’d been on the other side of the room and now Blondie and Remi both stood beside Ari.
“Oh yeah?” Natalie rolled her head so that she peered up at his shocking blue eyes. They were brighter than the sky peeking in the window.
Remi tapped Ari on the shoulder and pointed at the large sliders on the back side of the house. They wandered away with words such as “closed circuit,” “team,” and “motion detector” coming out of their mouths.
“What is that name?” Hangovers didn’t prevent her from running her mouth. Nope. If she was stuck with this guy as her shadow, she wanted to know if he was a complete dick or someone who could hang. Fastest way to discover that answer was to find his buttons and push.
“Beck. Beck Tatum.”
“Any relation?”
Uncertainty flickered in Beck’s eyes, and his head tilted.
“To Channing?” Natalie asked, her voice conveying that she thought he was as bright as a burned-out bulb. Had he lived under a rock for the last decade? Guess brains didn’t go with brawn.
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Not to my knowledge,” Natalie mimicked, her voice deep and her eyes wide. How much could she poke at him before that tough-guy exterior broke? Hmm . . . could be interesting to find out.
“Don’t be rude.”
Across the room, Ari’s chattering stopped. Natalie’s head popped up from her arm. “Excuse me?”
“I said”—the muscle in his jaw tightened—“Don’t. Be. Rude.”
She squinted. Wait, had she heard him—
“Natalie.” Ari was already crossing the room his arms outstretched in full-on agent mode. “I’m sure Beck—”
Natalie held up her hand and stopped Ari in his tracks. “Did you just tell me not to be rude?”
His face was stone but his eyes conveyed more than words. “I’m here to protect you. I saved your life and that was before you knew my name. So yes, if we’re going to work together, then don’t be rude.” The tone was businesslike, with a slight emphasis on the final three words.
Heat swirled through her belly. Her chest tightened. No one talked to her this way. No one.
“Can you believe this guy?” She turned toward Ari. Remi still stood beside the sliders. A small smile decorated his face.
She waited. What? No one? Not even Ari, her agent, was going to say anything to Beck? Tell him that he was rude and employed by her? That he needed to check his attitude at the door? Her gaze flicked from Beck to Ari. Ari stood very still in the middle of the room and dropped his gaze. She glanced back to Beck. There was nothing smug or satisfied in his expression. If anything . . . was that sympathy in his eyes? Shoot her now. Sympathy was waaaaay worse than a smirk.
Remi broke the silence. “I need to know where all the outdoor cameras are located. I don’t think this system is comprehensive.”
Ari turned away from Natalie and toward Remi. “But they were just here. Said this system was the best, state of the art.”
“They lied.”
The conversation went on as though she wasn’t in the room, as though she wasn’t completely pissed at how Beck spoke to her, as though she hadn’t said no to having a bodyguard.
Fire flashed through her body. Just like when she was a kid. She was a nonentity, take that back, she was a commodity, without opinions and feelings.
Her eyes heated. Scared. Hungover. Ignored. Fuck it. She was too tired for all this. She wasn’t winning this battle now.
The conversation went on around her as though Natalie were an object to be secured and protected. Just like childhood and adolescence . . . just like her parents and then Rico. To all the people in her home right now, just like all the other people in her life before, she was simply dollar signs and digits. A product that provided what seemed like a never-ending stream of dollar bills to those who worked for her.
Enough. A throbbing pain pounded in her head and the desire to argue fizzled as Remi and Ari turned away, but not Beck. His attention remained fixed on her. She rose from the chair and walked toward the stairs. A bone-deep fatigue spread through her limbs. Sleep. She wanted sleep. Could she sleep forever and never wake up? Maybe sleep until she was dead.
“Ari?”
He turned to her.
“I don’t want this.” Her voice just above a whisper the fight drained from her as the adrenaline oozed away.
“I know, doll, but you do want to work and we all want your safety.”
She glanced at the cameras dotting the corners. “In every room?
“Not your bathroom or your bedroom.”
She took a long deep breath. The alternative was way worse. She couldn’t imagine her life without her work. Who was she without her films? Work provided structure, provided her with value, with self-worth. What else did she have? One friend, one agent, no family, but loads of work.
“Can we . . . where did they find these guys?” Defeat laced her voice.
“We work with Estrella Leone.” Remi’s voice was soft.
Natalie’s jaw dropped. “The Estrella Leone?”
“The one and only.”
“But I thought she was dea—”
“She isn’t.” Remi’s gaze conveyed something deep, something important, something that Natalie didn’t want to question. “Her agency, Greystone, works with the studios or for individuals for whom Estrella has concern.”
Natalie wasn’t sure which group she fell into, but she had a sense based on Remi’s gaze that maybe she fit both categories.
A shiver chased up Natalie’s spine. The stories . . . what had happened to Estrella was a warning to anyone with a public career. If the stories about Estrella were true, then she would have concerns for Natalie, because Estella would have concerns for any young star where a stalker was concerned.
***
Beck welcomed darkness. The night was a cloak of anonymity that provided him with a freedom the daylight never did. When he chose to be, Beck was soundless in his movements. Swift and stealthy under the cover of night, he could move before anyone knew of his presence. You didn’t get nineteen confirmed kills without embracing silence.
He entered Natalie’s bedroom. Moonlight glanced through the window and shone on her face. Her dark hair lay like liquid night on a pillow. Those perfect lips barely parted. Her sleep was peaceful. Restful. A thought . . . a memory . . . a moment from before, with Marisol, flashed through Beck’s mind like lightning in a summer sky, then was gone.
Natalie was tough. She might appear like a sexy girly-girl, but with all the treachery she’d endured from her family and friends, she’d developed a thick hide to survive and thrive.
Beck circled the room. Tested the locks on the French doors that led to the balcony. Her room was on the second floor, but if a person was determined they’d find a way to get inside. He scanned the bathroom. Pretty damn swank. Next was the walk-in closet, which was bigger than his last apartment and filled with more shit than one of those fancy-ass high
-end department stores.
He circled back to the bedroom and stopped beside Natalie’s bed. She had no reason to trust Beck. All the people in her life had failed her when she’d trusted them. Why would she expect anything different from him?
Because Beck wouldn’t fail. Not again. Not this time.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“My job.”
“Watching me sleep is your job? Sounds a little stalker-y to me.” She reached out and flipped on the light beside her bed.
“You already have a stalker—you don’t need two.”
No reaction to his words. She scrubbed her hands over her face. “My head hurts.”
She reached for the water glass on the nightstand. Empty. Beck wasn’t her maid, but against his better judgment, he liked her. He slid from the shadows and lifted the glass from her hand. Minutes later he returned with water and ibuprofen.
“Thank you.” Her tone was soft and her gaze gentle.
His heart pinged. Dangerous territory when she was kind. Much easier when she tested his resolve.
She threw the pills into her mouth and swallowed the water. “So the security system Ari had installed sucks?” She sank back against her pillow and watched him with those eyes. Every word, every look from her, every movement seemed to assess who he was and what he was after, as well as where his vulnerable points might be. She’d make a good operative. So far, aside from when she was drunk, he hadn’t seen her let down her guard. Even then, after the booze, she’d been calculating a way to get what she wanted, which at the time wasn’t him so much as a way to remain alone.
“The system is inadequate for our level of need.”
“You say inadequate, I say sucks. Same difference. You don’t have to kiss Ari’s ass.” She pulled at her comforter and tucked it up higher around her. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I’m the one who pays you”—her gaze locked with his, a weariness in her eyes—“not him.”
“Then I don’t have to kiss your ass either.”
She squinted.
“Because Estrella pays me.”
“Ah.” A smile slid over her face. “That explains why you’re such a jerk. You think I can’t fire you.”
“Oh, I know you can fire me, but I also know that I’m the best person on the planet for this job, and the studio believes I’m the best person on the planet for this job, and for you to keep the Shemax role with the studio, you need to keep me.”
Red flooded up her neck and spotted her cheeks. He’d already pissed her off once today; looked like he’d gotten in two solid shots. How long since anyone had told Natalie the unvarnished truth? Years? A decade? Before her first big role when she was nine? The inhabitants in Natalie’s world depended on her for their rent, their house payments, their groceries. None of them, Ari included, wanted to upset the rainmaker. Nope, they would go along to get along where Natalie was concerned.
Not Beck.
His job was secure and he got paid whether Natalie fired him or not.
She wouldn’t fire him.
He’d called her bluff. She lay in bed burning. She shot words like bullets aimed with that smart mouth, but now, her tongue was locked. A truth she couldn’t admit, most likely not even to herself, was that Natalie wanted, no needed Beck to take the wheel. Especially now that they were on some slick-ass dangerous terrain.
“Get some sleep.” Beck’s gaze slid over her outline under her comforter. What would it feel like to slide beneath the comforter and wrap his arms around her? Keep her safe and in his arms.
He wouldn’t find out.
“I’ll be right outside your room.”
Fire crackled between them. He’d be a fool to ignore the attraction. Better to acknowledge the want, if only to himself, so he could assess and insulate against his own weaknesses.
“Just say my name and I’m here.”
Her eyes flashed and then her body relaxed as though she’d carried the world on her shoulders and she was grateful for another person to carry part of the load.
“I’m safe,” she whispered, her eyelids drooping and those long lashes brushing against her skin.
“How long since you felt that way?”
She shook her head. Her gaze distant and unfocused. A sad little smile played across her lips. “I can’t remember feeling safe.”
His heart tightened. Beck understood Natalie’s words. He’d worked hard to guarantee his own safety with brute strength, weapons knowledge, and training, because as a kid, he’d felt unsure and at risk.
“You’re safe now.” He pounded down the urge to reach out and caress her jaw, cradle her face, press his lips to the top of her head. Feelings of warmth and possession and want mixed with his need to protect. A dangerous cocktail of chemical desire pumped through his body.
“Go to sleep. No one is getting into this house tonight.” Let her get the kind of rest you could only get when you knew you were secure.
She believed him. Gone was the hint of fear in her eyes; instead, gratitude warmed her gaze. She snuggled beneath her covers, burrowing in like a kitten with a warm blanket. “Thank you,” she whispered.
His heart clutched and his cock hardened. Bad. News. Shit, she was too fucking beautiful and smart and sassy and vulnerable. Four things he didn’t want in this woman because those four things, combined with his desire for her, could completely undo him.
Chapter Nine
Her head had split and a cat had slept on her tongue. A drill shrieked and hammers pounded. Natalie pressed her fingertips to her temples and rubbed. Slowly she pulled off the covers and rose to vertical. Immediately, her shadow—the big hulking guy with amazing biceps—ambled into her bedroom.
“Good morning, sunshine.” No smile from Beck, just smart words, although she heard the hint of happiness in his voice. A fuzzy memory of him bringing her water and ibuprofen flitted through her mind.
“Too much noise.”
“They’re here to secure the premises.” A buzz saw joined the jacked-up noise of drills.
“I thought that’s what you’re here for!” she yelled over the noise. God, that hurt.
“I can’t be everywhere at once. The system is inadequate for your needs.”
“Would that be Fort Knox or Sing Sing?”
“Your room remains private as well as your bathroom.”
Ten thousand square feet in the Hollywood Hills and she’d been relegated to two rooms. The buzz saw shredded the momentary silence.
“This is too much,” she yelled, and retreated to the bathroom. A knock interrupted her stripping off her pajamas to take a shower. She jerked open the door a crack. “What?”
“Meet me downstairs. We have security issues to discuss and I’d like to go over some basic self-defense moves.”
“That’s why you’re here.”
To his credit Beck’s gaze didn’t drop to her naked body. His gaze remained locked to her eyes. “I won’t be here forever.”
Her heart stalled. Gone? Last night she’d slept better than she’d slept in years. Of course she wouldn’t tell him that, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced that kind of deep sleep.
She slammed shut the bathroom door. “I’ll be down after my shower.” She didn’t have anything more to say to Beck, plus she didn’t want to tempt fate where his eyes were concerned.
***
Long before Greystone, Beck learned to maintain a focused gaze no matter the stimuli, and Natalie Warner’s naked body was some fucking amazing stimuli. While his gaze never wavered, he had peripheral vision. A sliver of supple skin, her breasts, flared hips. His cock was rock solid and that was unacceptable. But he was a man, and she was a woman. One of the most beautiful women in the world.
And he’d just seen her naked. All of her naked. The reflection in the mirror behind her providing a nearly full view of her body.
Fuck.
Natalie’s ass could make a man weep. Round and full. To clasp his hands around that full ass and lean
forward and put his face between her legs . . .
He was here to protect her, not sleep with her.
A cold shower. He didn’t have time. Instead he forced the few memories he had of his last assignment to flood his mind. The blood. The death. The betrayal. The . . . heartache. Any thoughts of desire were chased away by the dread that filled his belly.
The dread was safer than desire or joy. With the dread he was prepared to face anything. Desire and joy? They led to losing the things you cared for.
***
She pulled on shorts and a tank top. Her hair still wet, she pattered down the stairs ready for coffee. The hammers and skull-splitting drills still blasted through the house. Beck looked too professional and put together for this early. He stood beside the kitchen island with a stack of papers.
“Coffee?” she asked.
Beck shook his head, his face a locked-jaw granite facade. He’d seemed happier before she took her shower, now he was stern and all business. Damn, she couldn’t read him . . . well, maybe a little.
In Beck’s blue eyes was a flicker of heat. Desire coiled thick and wound tight around her gut. Was she imagining these feelings? No . . . yes . . . wow, she had one powerful imagination if this attraction that the two of them shared wasn’t real.
Beck didn’t turn away.
Heat flamed up her neck and over her shoulders. He’d seen her naked . . . or parts of her naked. He’d never let on, but there she’d been, standing before him without a stitch of clothes, and yet his gaze hadn’t flickered.
Knowing that he watched her as she poured a cup of coffee throttled her desires into overdrive. Sex in the morning? She’d always been a fan. And sex with Beck? A small smile flicked over her lips with the thoughts of that body, those abs, his thick muscled arms pulling her close and holding her tight as he nipped, and licked, and thrust into her. A shiver of desire chased down her spine.
Coffee in hand, she turned to Beck. He no longer stared at her, and a cool, somber feeling threaded through her body from the absence of his gaze. She liked him watching her. As fucked up as it sounded, his eyes on her made her feel safe and secure. And wanted.