“I am so sorry,” Cassidy apologized as she rolled off him. This time, he let her go. She felt chilled without his body heat warming her. He’d invaded her dreams all night. Now she knew why. She’d tried to molest him in her sleep.
“He sounded jealous.”
Cassidy’s eyes snapped to Mason. “What? No.” She shook her head decisively. “It’s not like that between us. We’ve never…he’s not…there are no…” She huffed out a sigh. “We’re just friends. We have been since we were young. He’s like a brother to me.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t see you as a sister.”
Mason anchored his hands behind his head, putting his sculpted biceps on display. Holy moly, they were massive! He looked like he could bench press a Ferrari. Cassidy swallowed heavily and glanced away. “Really, it’s not like that. I haven’t seen Colin or even talked to him in years. We’ve drifted apart.”
“Looks to me like he’d like to renew your…friendship.”
She climbed out of bed, careful to keep her gaze averted, lest she dive back on top of him and beg him to kiss her senseless. “I really don’t think that’s the case.” She dug in her closet for her running shoes and then grabbed shorts and a tank top. “I’m going to change in the bathroom and then go for a run.”
“You aren’t going out alone, Cassidy. That isn’t how this works.”
She blinked at him. “I always run first thing in the morning. I need to keep my cardio up.”
He swung out of bed and reached for his duffel. He produced a pair or running shoes. “That’s fine. I’m going with you.”
She gulped. Having him sweating and breathing heavily beside her would conjure up all sorts of naughty ideas in her head.
“And I pick the route.”
That got her attention. “But I run the same path every day.” She’d measured the distance years ago so she knew how far to go before turning back.
“Exactly. Anyone can follow your routine. We need to shake it up.”
Okay, that made sense. Sometimes she was a creature of habit. And if someone was watching her, they’d know the exact route she took every morning.
At a last bid for sanity, she crossed her arms and let her gaze travel from his feet to his eyes. “I run a pretty hard pace for five miles. Think you can keep up?”
A wicked smile curved his lips. “Babe, I have no doubt.”
#
Mason barely slept a wink all night. Not long after Cassidy fell asleep, she rolled towards him, making little humming noises as she snuggled against his side. Then she crawled on top of him and it was all he could do to keep from pushing her shorts aside and sliding into her. Damn, but he wanted to feast on her lips, taste her smooth, creamy skin. All over.
He hadn’t wanted to perpetuate the idea they were sleeping together to her friend, but he couldn’t let her roll away. She was masking his body’s reaction to her nearness. It wasn’t professional for anyone to think he was sleeping with the client, but the truth was, they were sleeping together, just not in the carnal sense.
Cassidy might believe Colin didn’t have romantic feelings for her, but the guy was extremely protective and excessively possessive of her. Several times, Mason caught the other man staring daggers at him. He didn’t know if Colin was jealous or what, but he wasn’t Mason’s concern. Cassidy was.
He whipped his t-shirt over his head and then shrugged on a bullet proof vest. It was protocol to always wear one when on assignment. He’d sweat through this one, but he had a backup. He’d also requested vests for Cassidy and they would be delivered today, along with the equipment he’d use to secure her apartment. His vest would swim on her. Next, he stepped into running shorts. He didn’t have much in the way of clothes, so he’d have to either stop by Sawyer and Harlow’s hotel room or have them bring his things to the studio.
After lacing on his sneakers, he stuck his driver’s license and a credit card in his vest and then secured his holster to a special clip on the side. It wasn’t ideal, but it would keep his weapon within reach and there was no way he was leaving the house without one. His cell phone slid into another pocket and then he pulled a clean t-shirt over his head to conceal the vest and gun.
He glanced up as Cassidy emerged from the bathroom in a form-fitting royal blue tank top and black spandex shorts and his pulse started skipping. Her body was lean with feminine muscles that were smooth and defined. She was so stunning, he was having trouble remembering his own name. He was afraid he might be drooling.
“Ready?”
He forced his eyes to her face. Her hair was secured into a ponytail and she wore no makeup. She was so beautiful. “Ready.” His voice was gruff with emotion he was afraid to examine too closely.
He followed her into the main room. Colin was perched on the couch with his arms crossed, his leg propped on a pillow atop the trunk Cassidy used as a coffee table. A cooking show played on television.
“Col, we’re going out for a run,” Cassidy told him.
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
His snarky remark had Mason taking a step forward to adjust his attitude. Sensing his escalating temper, Cassidy grabbed his arm and trilled, “We’ll be back soon,” as she led him from the apartment.
“Colin has a temper, but it burns off quickly,” she told him as the door closed. “He’ll be fine by the time we return.”
Frankly, Mason didn’t care if the other man didn’t speak a word to him for the duration of his stay. And Cassidy was wrong—there were strong feelings, at least on Colin’s end. Mason suspected the other man was mad that he’d gotten in his way. Maybe he planned on using this time to take their relationship to the next level. Not happening.
He surveyed the area as dawn was about to break in the east. It was just before six, Pacific Time. This early, the beach was deserted. He detected no movement in the parking lot and no suspicious figures lurking in the dark shadows.
They stretched when they reached the path, loosening up their muscles. “Which direction do you usually run?”
“That way.” Cassidy indicated the route they’d walked last night.
“We’re going the opposite today. Ready?”
She gave him a saucy grin as she jogged in place. “Eat my dust, Rossi.”
#
As inconspicuously as possible, Cassidy pressed a hand against the nagging stitch in her side. Why the hell had she bragged to Mason about her running ability? Not only had he kept up, but he pushed the pace, all while still able to talk and barley break a sweat. Then he had to goad her into an extra four miles and still, the man wasn’t the least bit winded. She, on the other hand, could barely haul air into her lungs and her legs were shaking like saplings in a hurricane. She honestly didn’t know if she could make it back to her apartment.
Not caring what he thought, she dropped down to a bench, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs in a very unfeminine huff. Mason jogged in place in front of her and then stopped. She expected to see a look of triumph on his face when she met his gaze. Instead, his eyes were filled with concern.
He crouched down and placed a palm on her thigh. She was too exhausted to take pleasure in the contact. “Are you okay, Cass? Did I push too hard?”
She shook her head, speech still beyond her at this point. He pushed upright and jogged away. Not enough oxygen in her system to wonder where he went. Suddenly he dropped down beside her and handed her a cold bottle of water. She snatched it from his hands and drank greedily.
“Sorry I pushed you,” he apologized. “In the Corps, we were always trying to outdo each other with silly bets and contests. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“S’okay,” she managed, her breath finally slowing down. “My fault. I goaded you first.” Something she wouldn’t make the mistake of doing again. She’d never seen anyone more fit than Mason Rossi, and she’d been around top trained dancers her whole life. Hell, she thought she was well-trained. She could dance all night, but nine mile
s at a lightning pace was apparently her breaking point.
She’d been right about his military background. “You were in the Marine Corps?”
He nodded. “Force Recon.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded important. And extremely dangerous. The outline of something beneath his t-shirt caught her attention. She’d noticed it the many times he outpaced her and she was forced to watch his perfectly-muscled backside. A few times, she slowed down on purpose. It was a spectacular view. “Is that a weighted vest?” She knew several dancers who wore them to build up their endurance.
“Bulletproof. Required on the job. Speaking of, I’m having one sent for you. It should be here today. They’re lightweight and you don’t even realize you have it on. I’d like for you to wear it anytime we go outside.”
It was in her best benefit, so she wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”
“Wow, that was easy. I expected an argument.”
“What can I say, I’m an easy girl.”
When a slow grin spread across his face, she played back the words in her head. Oh, good grief, had she really told him she was easy? No doubt he believed her after she’d draped herself over him like a favorite blanket. She hoped he mistook the deep blush in her cheeks for exertion instead of embarrassment.
When she felt like she could stand, she pushed to her feet. Mason followed suit. “Will you think I’m a wimp if we walk back?”
“Not at all.”
He held out a hand and she almost grasped it until she realized he was waiting for her empty water bottle. Get a grip, Cassidy. The intense workout had rendered her brain useless. She passed it to him and he tossed the plastic in a recycling bin in front of the shop. Then he had to go and make her lose her hard-won struggle for breath all over again when this time, it was her hand he reached for.
If felt so good to walk beside him as they made their way to her apartment. They’d turned around at the five-mile marker and then ran back four, so the walk was only a mile. She checked her watch. She didn’t need to be at the studio until nine, so she had plenty of time to rest, shower and grab a bite to eat.
Activity on the beach was picking up as the new day dawned. By the time they reached her apartment, she felt surprisingly rejuvenated. Pushing the pace and distance had been good for her. So was the company. She could get used to it.
She unlocked the door and then stood back while Mason entered first. He did a quick check and then nodded for her to enter.
“Colin? We’re back.”
No answer. Mason handed her a scribbled note that read: Went for breakfast. I’ll meet you at the studio.
Maybe in the years apart, his temper burned longer. Well, she couldn’t let that bother her. It was the final day of practice before the live show tomorrow. They’d have a few hours in the morning to fine tune the routines, but most of the day would be packed with dress rehearsals and last-minute meetings and on-camera interviews. It would be non-stop from the minute she stepped foot on the lot until she stumbled home at night.
She grabbed another bottle of water from her fridge and took a drink as she turned to offer one to Mason. She choked, the water sputtering out as she clamped a hand over her mouth. He was mopping his face with a towel. He’d removed his t-shirt and the vest, revealing an eight-pack that was so clearly defined, it didn’t look real. His running shorts hung low on his hips, exposing the cuts along his hip bones. An enticing strip of black hair led from his navel down—she jerked her gaze to his to find him staring at her with what could only be described as hunger. She gulped. She could handle effeminate dancers and metrosexual actors. She didn’t know if she could handle a six-six warrior carved from granite.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower.” She almost suggested they shower together to conserve water, time, whatever, but instead said, “You can have the bathroom when I’m done.”
She scurried to her closet to grab her clothes and then dashed across the small hallway and closed the door, falling against it. She had to get her hormones under control. She was wildly attracted to her bodyguard. She’d had crushes before, infatuations, but this was different. The feelings were ten times stronger, more intense. She couldn’t think clearly in his presence. All her thoughts were of him.
Pushing away from the door, she placed her clothes on the counter, stepped into the shower and turned on the taps. The rate her thoughts were going, she’d need a cold one.
#
While Cassidy showered, Mason checked in with Sawyer, trying very hard not to picture her naked under the spray of water, drops glistening on her porcelain skin. He shook his head to refocus. Sawyer informed him that he and Harlow were headed to the studio now. It wouldn’t take him long to shower and change and then they’d be on their way, too. The studio provided a pretty decent breakfast spread, so they could fuel up once they arrived.
Surprisingly, he was looking forward to the live show tomorrow. The excitement was contagious. Sawyer would be a nervous wreck while Harlow performed, and Mason would have to hold him back if the judges said anything negative about her. Come to think of it, someone might need to hold him back, too. No one got away with attacking one of their own, especially Harlow, who was sweet and kind and caring.
And then there was Cassidy. He’d feel like pounding anyone that said unfavorable things about her, too. He’d never seen the show, but his coworkers Maggie McQueen and Kayla Hepburn had filled them in on all the details, including which judge was harsh and which one was a pushover. Lou had been the name of the strict judge, but Mason had met him and he seemed like a good guy. He’d also met Benny and Sherry, the other two judges, and liked them as well. He knew the critique would be for the benefit of the dancers to help them improve, and he realized that everyone couldn’t be perfect all the time. Still, it would be hard to hear them criticize Harlow or Cassidy.
He’d caught snippets of performances of the other couples and none were as polished and dynamic as Harlow and Marcus or Cassidy and Trey. Sure, he knew very little about the correct steps or technique, and he was clearly biased, but the other dancers paled in comparison, in his humble, untrained opinion. Irina, the woman who caused Cassidy so much grief, yelled at her partner constantly. He looked like a whipped puppy. For the poor guy’s sake, he hoped they’d be voted off first.
He checked his email and clicked on the one from Tyler. He’d dug into the background of Barry Nelson. Cassidy had been right. He was producing a community theater production of Hamlet in San Diego. Quite a step down from working on one of the top shows on television. There had to be some resentment there. He sent a text to the detective at the LAPD who’d been assigned to work the case, asking if they’d been able to track him down. He wanted the chance to interview the man when they hauled him into the station, preferably alone without witnesses, cameras or a two-way mirror. Even if he wasn’t the perp they were searching for, Nelson had terrorized Cassidy. Mason wanted to make sure he understood that if he ever so much as breathed the same air as her, Nelson would answer to him.
It’d be much easier if he could do what Colin implied and track down the suspect himself. But he didn’t have the authority and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the case. He planned on talking to Irina Dubov when he had a chance. Harlow mentioned that she spotted Lacy Brubeck on set, and he planned on speaking with her as well. He’d take Sawyer along. The man was former FBI. He knew how to make a perp talk.
Chapter 10
Cassidy stood from the makeup chair and thanked Rose for her magical hand in applying cosmetics for all the interviews she’d be subjected to during the long day. Earlier, Brandi had blown out her hair and added tousled curls until it tumbled down her back in a cascade of waves. Though it might look beautiful, she much preferred to pull her hair back when she danced. It wasn’t a requirement, but the producers preferred longer hair. More dramatic on camera, or something. Some of the other dancers chose to keep theirs short and just add extensions for show days.
&nbs
p; Her first stop of the morning had been to the Sun Shack, as they’d named the building housing the spray tan bays. She now looked like she’d spent a couple of weeks in the tropics. Spray tans were wonderful things since, one, her fair skin burned but never tanned, and two, she tried to avoid the harsh rays as much as possible. The color lasted between five to seven days, so she’d have it reapplied each week. She was so addicted to the look, she was considering purchasing the equipment for her dance academy. Much safer than tanning beds or the sun.
Dress rehearsal days were packed with activities, from on-camera questions to group number final practices to camera blocking. Today was more intense since it was the first show of the new season. The excitement was exhilarating. It didn’t matter how many times she’d been through the routine, it never failed to get her blood pumping.
Final fittings for her outfits were finished yesterday, so they’d be ready for her to pick up. She’d start with one outfit for her solo number and then quickly change for the group number. One last switch for her routine with Trey and she’d wear that costume for the remainder of the show.
“You look stunning.”
She turned to see Harlow Oldham smiling at her. “Thanks, so do you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever worn this much makeup,” the other woman said, peering into a mirror and gently patting her face. “I barely recognize myself.” She stood and smiled again. “My husband will be helping Mason set up security at your apartment tonight. I was hoping we could all go out to dinner first.”
“I’d like that.”
“Great.” Harlow squeezed her hand and then someone called her name. “Looks like it’s my turn for the hairstylist. I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.”
Cassidy watched as Harlow took a seat in the chair while Gene started brushing out her hair. The woman was so nice and down-to-earth, much different than Cassidy expected. Many of the celebrities who appeared on the show were either aloof or arrogant. There were several approachable ones, too, but none she could picture herself being friends with away from the show. She felt that way with Harlow Oldham.
Last Dance (COBRA Securities Book 14) Page 9