Too Far Gone (8 page)

The meager splash of charm he rationed with that ripped body and sexy swagger, made him nearly impossible to resist. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so attracted to a man. Blaming the attraction on stress and proximity wasn’t working anymore. In the clubs tonight she could’ve had her choice of tempting men, but she’d only wanted Mike and not just for safety or protection. Maybe it was the reality that she hadn’t had sex in two years.

Two whole years
. The passing brush of a kiss and touch of a hand in public was all she and Desmond had shared on a physical level since she’d discovered his penchant for cheating. She was not only in serious trouble here, she was truly pathetic.

“Call in an order for whatever you want to eat,” he said. “Use my name and credit card. I’m grabbing the first shower.” He closed the door before she could reply.

Staring at the closed door, she cursed the years she’d wasted with Desmond. Their dysfunctional relationship had messed with her head and undermined her confidence. She did the necessary maintenance on and off camera to keep her job and to audition for others, all the while telling herself Desmond would come around. That he cared for her in his odd way. And he did, twisted as that care was. He’d kept her employed and as his loyal girlfriend he kept her visible among the media. He’d told her the other women never mattered. Vanya was different. Lauren knew it with every fiber of her being, even if she didn’t have proof. Yet. As soon as the woman had recognized Lauren, something in her eyes had changed.

How bizarre was it that the two things she and Vanya had in common were Desmond and his murder? Only Vanya was the witness and possible other woman, while Lauren was the girlfriend and person of interest. She should be angry that the other woman had helped put her in this position, but somehow she wasn’t. They had both been deceived and used by ruthless men. Who knew if either of them would survive what was to come?

Lauren’s gaze drifted to the closed bathroom door. As awful as all this was, if it hadn’t happened she wouldn’t have met Mike, a man she wanted to know beyond his abilities as an investigator and bodyguard. That startling thought shook her. Now who was twisted? This wasn’t the right time for silver linings and happily-ever-afters. They were both in a great deal of danger and if there really were women being held hostage at that school or whatever it was, they needed help.

“Lauren?”

She jumped, the firm tone and gentle shake of her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. She stared at him, and then did a double take. Mike wore nothing but a towel slung low across his lean hips and her body responded, going hot. She closed her eyes, but it was too late. Some things couldn’t be unseen. Not that she’d suffer if
this
image haunted her for a lifetime.

His torso would’ve kept Leonardo da Vinci enthralled for hours, it was that perfectly defined. Dark hair dusted his pecs and speared down past his navel, disappearing under the towel. She jerked her gaze back up, studying the tattoo of an elaborate compass star that decorated the left side of his chest.

“You’re... fit,” she blurted, regretting it instantly. “Excuse me.” She stumbled toward the desk chair. “I’ll just make that call for the food now.”

“I would’ve dressed first, but you didn’t answer me. When I turned off the water it was too quiet in here. I called your name twice.”

She used the menu as a fan, vainly trying to cool the embarrassment heating her cheeks. There was no point denying her obvious attraction to him. “I was just thinking.”

“All right.” He returned to the bathroom and fool that she was, she watched him go. He moved with such stealth and grace. “I was worried you’d left,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.

She shook her head. “You’re stuck with me.” And now she was stuck with the delectable image of his flawless body. When she felt like she could place the order in a normal voice, she called it in.

The task done, she searched for another distraction. Anything to keep from staring at the perfectly good bed in the room. She’d done love scenes, on the soap and in movies. Giving viewers the gasps, grasps, and glimpses they wanted meant leaving modesty in the dust. Despite sheets and modesty panels, exposure was part of the process on a set.

When hunky men were slated for love scenes, it seemed like every woman involved with a studio created a reason to slip into the closed set. It made her unreasonably jealous thinking of Mike being ogled—especially considering he wasn’t an actor and they weren’t a couple.

What was wrong with her brain tonight? “I’m being ridiculous,” she muttered, pushing to her feet. On instinct she moved to the window and caught herself just before she opened the curtains. They couldn’t take a chance that someone had followed them and might be watching.

“Restless?” Mike asked, his deep voice drifting across her senses.

“You have no idea,” she replied, refusing to turn around.

“You might be surprised,” he said. “Come sit down, Lauren.”

She closed her eyes. There wasn’t much choice. It was either stare at the curtains, counting the swoops and flowers in the fabric, or be a grown up and deal with the situation. She was an accomplished actress surely she could pull off being indifferent rather than insanely attracted to the man hired to protect her.

With a polite smile, she turned and her mouth went dry as she enjoyed the view. He lounged in the upholstered chair on the far side of the room, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. Dressed in faded jeans and a black t-shirt, his feet still bare, and his damp hair pushed back from his face, he mesmerized her.

“I won’t deny there’s something between us,” he said. “Under different circumstances, I might make a move.” His brow lined in concern. “You should sit down.”

On automatic pilot, she obeyed the softly uttered order, sinking into the desk chair, clasping her hands in her lap. Where had she left the menu fan when she needed it all over again? She should be mad as hell at his blatant comments.

“What you’re feeling is common.”

She bristled, annoyed with what felt like another loop through the cycle that started with her
father-knows-everything
upbringing. “What do you think I’m feeling?”

“You told me you did the research for your role as Dr. Loveless.”

She nodded, more curious than she should be about where he was headed with this conversation.

“Did you get to the psych chapter on sex being a primal response to adrenaline, death, and loss?”

“Are you suggesting we sleep together so I’ll feel better?” She was remarkably okay with the idea.

“No.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his widespread knees, a wicked gleam in his deep blue eyes. “I’m suggesting the urge to jump me is natural.”

“That’s some academy-award winning arrogance, Mike.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t dwell on it or stress about it,” he continued. “I’m convenient and—”

She tipped her head back and laughed. “You’re nothing close to convenient. I can’t argue the attraction is there. Good Lord, you’re gorgeous and built like Adonis. You’ve got the preserve and protect routine down to a science. I’m sure it would be a memorable experience.” She aimed a glance toward the bed. “But you’re right, I can’t dwell on that. More importantly, I won’t use you as a distraction from my bigger problems.” This conversation had just made saying those words a whole lot easier.

He leaned back, studying her with a deep frown. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Did I hurt your feelings?” She’d called him Adonis for heaven’s sake. That kind of compliment should soothe any man’s ego. He had a mirror, and she was well aware how much effort went into maintaining that kind of physique.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

“But there’s something else you wanted to say.”

“No.” His gaze skated over her body. “How long until the food gets here?”

She prayed one day a man would look at her with that quiet intensity and stick around long enough to convince her to take the leap. And it would take convincing because she just didn’t trust her ability to make smart decisions when it came to men anymore. Desmond, may he rest in peace, had ruined that for her. Checking the clock near the bed, she shrugged. “Soon I hope.”

Her stomach growled and they both smiled a little. A change of subject was in order and quickly. She wanted to talk about Vanya, but their visit to the club was too charged with that chemistry and attraction he spoke so clinically about. She’d never go clubbing again, not even out for drinks, without thinking of him. “Have you ever thought of stunt work?”

“No.” He sat up a little. “That’s not exactly true. When I first came home a friend got me a gig consulting on an action movie with a military plot.”

That raised a tide of questions, but she clamped her mouth shut and waited for him to tell it his way.

“The pay was good and the hours weren’t bad, but it just wasn’t my thing.”

Her curiosity piqued, she endured another delay hiding in the bathroom while he paid for the food. For a few minutes they dug into fried rice, noodles, and spicy chicken.

While she loaded his paper plate with a second helping, she prompted, “Tell me the rest about when you first came home to Cali.”

“You’ll be offended.”

She called him on the evasion. “Lame excuse. Keep going.”

“Leaving the Navy abruptly, unexpectedly, I wasn’t good at trusting people. The schedule on the set was fine, the work itself was fine, but the social aspect was too much.”

She knew what he was trying not to say. “The actresses fell all over you, didn’t they?”

“Maybe.”

She circled her plastic fork in the air. “The face and eyes are enough, but with the body and being the new guy in town, that’s an irresistible combination in Hollywood.”

“Voice of experience?”

She bobbed her chin. “There are days this place feels like little more than a civilized freak show for beautiful people. You do know that guys have work done to look like you.”

“Is that another compliment?”

“Probably.”
Definitely
. She didn’t plan on giving him anymore. For all she knew giving him three compliments in a row would erode the remnants of her self-control. Silly yes, but she wasn’t ruling it out. “Tell your story.”

“I wasn’t a fool,” he declared, setting his plate down and taking a long drink from his bottled water. “This kind of talk should come with a beer.”

“Then you should’ve shared last night,” she said. “Quit stalling and just tell me who you slept with.”

“None of them.” His voice flat, he scowled at a point on the wall behind her. “I couldn’t tell who was real and who was fake.”

It wouldn’t have been a concern for most men.
Wasn’t
, she corrected herself. Men or women, most wouldn’t care about real or fake if it meant spending private time with a man like Mike. The admission only confirmed her opinion about his integrity and good character, though it seemed to drag him into a pit full of bad memories. She wanted to touch, and soothe, to tell him whatever happened didn’t matter. She wanted to make them both forget for just a little while, but that felt cheap and false. She wouldn’t do that to either of them.

“In the Navy, I trusted other men with my life. Men who’d step in front of a bullet to save a friend or the operation without a second thought. Men who never left a man behind.” He picked up a wrapped fortune cookie and just turned it around and around in his hands. “Knowing real from fake was part of the job. We learned when people were lying, knew how to distinguish the truth with or without supporting intel.”

She held her breath, afraid any sound or movement would interrupt him.

“My team had bad intel on my last operation. I can’t go into all the details, but we handled it. Rescued fifteen young girls and their teacher from their abductors. But someone had to be the scapegoat when things went crazy and all too political.”

“You volunteered.” It was so clear to her, the resignation and grief stamped on his face. He’d stepped in front of a problem as lethal as a bullet to cover a friend.

He nodded absently. “None of us did anything wrong but by the time we got there, a few victims had been, well,
turned
is the best word. We encountered unexpected resistance. Like I said, we handled it,” he repeated, his gaze haunted. “As a team. But after the fact, our actions got the wrong attention. When the team comes back without a scratch, but the hostages have injuries not sustained from the bad guys, someone has to take the blame for the perceived mistakes made in the heat of the rescue. I was single with no one else counting on my paycheck or benefits so I stepped up. Deep down I didn’t really expect to be booted from the SEAL program.” When he lifted his head and met her gaze his eyes were clear again. “When my tour was up, I came home and started over, but I didn’t like not knowing who to trust. It bothered me that I’d lost that skill.”

“You didn’t lose that skill,” she stated firmly. “You were a successful bounty hunter.”

“I caught the killer, but I damn well misjudged the sheriff and his need to pretend it was a one-man operation—
his
. Even that wasn’t enough for him. He tried his level best to make anything that had gone wrong look as if it were my fault.” He picked up his plate and carried it to the trashcan.

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t have the expertise to offer him comfort he wouldn’t brush off. “How’d you find the Guardian Agency?”

“They found me right after the Angeles Forest press conference.”

The same press conference she recalled so vividly. “You trust them.” It made her sad that he’d done good things, noble things, and still carried around these burdens from his past.

“It’s good work. The money always comes through. Claudia always answers the call for assistance.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Besides, I didn’t have anything more to lose. It felt like I was too far gone down the wrong path.”

“That’s a scary place.” She thought she’d hit that low with her father until she became a person of interest in a murder case with the real killers after her in addition to the police. The nonsense she’d gone through with her father might have been equally hurtful, but it hadn’t posed the same risk to her entire existence. Sitting here at an all time new low, she abruptly understood there was far more to lose.