Up Close and Personal
KATHRYN FREEMAN

One More Chapter

a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Kathryn Freeman 2020

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Emojis © Shutterstock.com

Kathryn Freeman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008365844

Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008365837

Version: 2020-06-08

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Also by Kathryn Freeman

About the Author

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Zac straightened his already straight silk tie, checked his cufflinks were still in position and brushed the non-existent fluff off his Hardy Amies Saville Row suit. Slotting his smile into place, he accepted the proffered glass of champagne and stepped into the impressive ballroom of Heatherden Hall, the nineteenth-century, Grade II-listed mansion at the heart of Pinewood Studios.

As his eyes skimmed the room, noting the faces he knew, he raised the glass to his lips. Dutch courage. His job title might read actor, his online profile might say film star, but he wasn’t the gregarious type and never felt entirely comfortable in film industry crowds. Today’s rather ostentatious gathering had been put on by Vision Films to celebrate thirty years in the business. As it was the film company he was currently contracted to, he’d felt obliged to show his face. Now all he had to do was find the key people to show his face to, and he could be out of here …

What the hell?

Someone careered into him from behind, and champagne that should have been fizzing delicately in his glass now began to run down the front of his white Turnbull & Asser tailored shirt.

‘Shit.’

A pair of hands flew out to grab his arms, presumably for support, and the resulting jolt knocked the remaining contents of his glass down his jacket.

‘Oh, my flaming God, I’m so sorry.’ Two horrified brown eyes locked onto his. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have worn heels, but my niece was adamant I couldn’t wear my boots with this dress. They wouldn’t have got caught in the flipping carpet though, would they.’

‘Err, no?’

Perhaps he should have been more annoyed – champagne was a treat when swallowed, but plastered against his skin, not so much. Yet it was hard to muster any anger when the person he should be directing it against was so apologetic. So amusing. And so … striking.

Her hand flew to her face. ‘Holy moly, listen to me carping on about my shoes while you’ve got champagne dripping down … well, dripping where I’m sure you don’t want it dripping. Hang on a sec.’

Bemused, and yes, dripping, though perhaps a more accurate description would be sticking, he watched as she shuffled off to one of the grandly set tables and snatched a few of the carefully folded napkins.

‘Here.’ She started to wipe the napkin down his sodden chest, then paused and gave him a wry smile. ‘I’m guessing you’d be better doing this yourself.’

‘Maybe.’ Fighting a smile, he nodded down to the napkin. ‘But you seem to be making an excellent job of it.’

‘You think so?’

Chocolate-brown eyes sparked back at him, amusement in their depths, and he found he was unable to drag his own eyes away. Short dark hair framed a face that wasn’t beautiful – it was far too interesting to have such a mundane label attached to it. Sharp edges, yet softened with an easy, unaffected smile.

Abruptly she withdrew her hand. ‘You know what, I have a far better idea. Wait here.’

As if he could do anything else. Enthralled, he waited, waving away those who approached him, explaining he’d see them later, he was waiting for someone. She returned a few minutes later, brandishing a T-shirt.

‘Instead of Turnbull & Asser I get to wear,’ he peered at the logo, ‘Pinewood Studios?’

‘It’ll be a good look on you. Everyone will be after one by the end of the evening.’ A soft sigh escaped her. ‘I really am sorry, though. Can I get your shirt dry-cleaned?’ She winced as she saw the splashes on his jacket. ‘Err, all of you dry-cleaned?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ He could see she was about to leave and realised with a start that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Talking to her seemed infinitely more preferable than polite conversation with studio bosses and fellow actors. ‘You could help me find somewhere to change, though.’

She gave him a wary look. ‘This isn’t some sort of trick, is it?’

‘Trick?’

‘You know, we head off to find a quiet room and when I’m not looking you produce a bottle of wine and pour it all over me to get your own back.’

He searched her eyes, trying to get a read on whether she was joking or not. He couldn’t. They were seemingly bottomless pools of rich, smooth brown. ‘I can think of far better things to do to you in a quiet room than douse you in alcohol.’

Surprise flickered before her guard came down. ‘Oh no, that’s not … we’re not.’ She huffed. ‘Look, I’ll show you to the gents’.’

Great. Now she had him down as some entitled, pervy actor – that’s if she even recognised him. ‘I was hoping for somewhere a little more salubrious,’ he ventured.

‘Salubrious?’ She wrinkled her nose; slim and attractive, like the rest of her. ‘Is that a fancy way of saying a room without urinals?’

‘It’s my way of saying I’d rather not strip off in front of urinating males, yes.’

‘Okay.’ Her face relaxed a little. ‘I guess that makes sense. And my role in this shirt changing exercise would be what, exactly?’

‘Help me find a room. Be on the lookout while I change.’ Keep talking to me, he added silently. And flash me another of those amazing smiles.

‘Fine.’

They began to walk towards the grand wooden archway he’d entered from. ‘Which way, left or right?’

‘Wow, you’re entrusting me with this huge decision?’ Her gaze came back to his. ‘You realise if I get it wrong, you’ll be wearing champagne all evening?’

‘That’s true,’ he agreed soberly. ‘Yet you’re the one who’s got me into this pickle. It seems only right you’re the one to get me out of it.’

‘This pickle?’ She burst out laughing. ‘I guess that’s one way to describe it. Alcohol is a good preservative, after all. And if we don’t get you out of that shirt soon, you might literally be pickled.’

Her laughter fluttered across his skin, leaving tingles in its wake. God, there was nothing sexier than a woman who liked to laugh. ‘I like the we in that sentence,’ he murmured, unable to help himself. His third attempt at flirting. And this time, he couldn’t have been more obvious.

***

For the second time that evening, Kat stumbled over her feet. The first had launched her headlong into the one man she’d come here to see. Yet not be seen by.

Not only had she failed spectacularly at that, he was – unbelievably – flirting with her. The comment about the quiet room had been shocking enough. The last statement, delivered with a low, sexy murmur, had been hot enough to weaken her knees and make her lose her footing.

Awkward did not begin to describe it.

Heavens above, he was gorgeous, though. Some actors, and in her line of work she’d met a few, disappointed in the flesh. They were less; diminished somehow from how they appeared on the big screen.

Zac Edwards was more. Much, much more. Those green eyes of his didn’t just captivate, they snared a woman, making her want to keep on looking at him. Then there was the quirky smile, a sort of tilt of his lips, that had her unwittingly not only smiling back at him but, honest to God, melting.

Yet this man was off limits, out of bounds. Someone she could not afford to flirt with, no matter how much her hormones demanded her to.

He was also someone she could not afford to piss off.

‘I meant we as in me on lookout and you on stripping.’ Hot damn, that wasn’t how she’d meant to phrase it. And the sexy raised eyebrow thing he was doing now, together with the flash of heat in his eyes, didn’t help stop the showreel that had begun in her head.

‘When I’m doing this stripping,’ his gaze drifted across her face before zeroing in on her eyes, ‘where will you be, exactly?’

She’d never felt so flushed, so flustered. Kat Parker, tough as nails, except, apparently, when it came to Zac Edwards. ‘I’ll be outside the door. The firmly shut door.’

‘How … disappointing.’

Was he aware of the effect he was having on her? He had to be. The amusement dancing in his eyes suggested this must happen to him all the time. The realisation was enough to cool her heated skin. Forcing her gaze away, she hurried forward as fast as the annoying heels would carry her. ‘Let’s try in here.’ She didn’t know the building all that well, but she’d visited enough to know this was the smaller of the two boardrooms.

It was empty inside, bar the table and chairs and the stunning wood-panelling. ‘Okay, then. You go and … do your thing—’

‘Strip, you mean?’

That humour again, and the small smile that was possibly a smirk. Yes, he knew exactly what he was doing. ‘Swap shirts, yes.’ Moving towards the antique sideboard, she grabbed one of the bottles of water. ‘You might want to use this to stop yourself getting sticky.’ Damn him, now his eyes weren’t just amused, they were laughing. ‘Oh God, just go and change, please.’

She marched out hurriedly, very aware of the soft, low chuckles that followed her.

Standing guard outside, it was impossible to not think about what was happening behind the big wooden door. She’d seen his last film, the one that had catapulted him into stardom. So she knew what he looked like without his shirt on.

Not helping, not helping.

Shaking the images away, she drew in a breath. Was she right to keep quiet and not tell him who she was? Jerry Collier had been very definite when he’d dished out his instructions. She was here to make polite small talk to a few of the bigwigs from the production company and to watch out for Edwards. From a distance.

Not crash into him.

Certainly not flirt with him.

She inhaled another lungful of air. Okay then, this was fine. She’d walk back with Edwards to the ballroom, and when he was surrounded by the people she’d seen reluctantly hang back while they’d been talking, she’d quietly slip away.

He’d barely remember her when they met again. The odd woman with the short hair who’d barged into him.

The door opened and Zac Edwards appeared, charcoal-grey suit in place, but now with a black T-shirt with the word Pine – part of the Pinewood logo – peeking between the jacket lapels. He slipped the cufflinks and tie he was holding into his jacket pocket, his other hand gripping the abandoned white shirt.

‘You should look ridiculous,’ she commented.

He grimaced, glancing down. ‘If it helps, I feel ridiculous. I suspect Hardy Amies will be turning in his grave.’

‘Hardy Amies?’ God, the man had a weird way of talking. She needed to remember that the next time he flashed her a smile.

‘The founder of the label who made the suit.’

‘Oh.’ She suspected Mr Amies was more likely to be doing cartwheels at the sight of one of his suits looking so … hot. ‘Not Marks and Spencer then?’

Another small grimace. ‘No, not M&S.’

‘I take it you’re not a fan of high street fashion?’ She was deliberately trying to wind him up, because it was safer that way.

‘I like clothes to fit my body. Not perch haphazardly on top of it.’ His eyes dropped to the knee length fitted black dress she was wearing and back up to her face. ‘I’m a fan of clothes that enhance a body’s shape.’

The flutter in her belly was all the warning she needed that it was time to escape. It hardly seemed possible that he was attracted to her. She might be glammed up today, had even managed lipstick and eyeliner, but no way on God’s earth would anyone describe her as beautiful. And a face like his surely demanded beautiful in return.

He was probably just enjoying the distraction. A moment away from an event he’d likely been heavily persuaded into attending. Production company anniversaries might be thrilling for those on the board, but for everyone else, not so much.

‘Time to return to the party.’ She was poised to walk back when she heard him sigh. ‘You don’t want to go back?’

‘I’m not a big admirer of these types of events, no.’ He gave her a sideways glance. ‘I’d far rather acquire a couple of drinks and take them somewhere quiet.’

She tried to ignore the dip in her stomach. ‘Two drinks? That’s a bit greedy.’

‘They aren’t both for me.’

Kat’s heart jolted. ‘You, me and two glasses of champagne. That sounds dangerous.’ In many ways.

His mouth curved, the result looking so, so sexy on him. ‘I’m willing to risk it.’

God help her, she was massively out of her depth here. He was a master at flirting, and she wasn’t just rusty, she wasn’t supposed to be flirting back. Yet she couldn’t stop the response of her body. The flush she knew was on her cheeks, the breath she knew he’d heard catch in her throat.

‘As tempting as that sounds, Mr Edwards, I’m afraid I have to pass.’ She began walking again, relieved to hear the sound of the music coming out from the ballroom. A few more seconds and he’d be engulfed, and she’d be able to breathe again.

‘Wait.’ Two long strides and he was beside her, his hand briefly touching her arm. ‘You know who I am then?’

‘Sure I do.’ Electric sparks seemed to shoot over her skin where his hand had been. ‘My sister’s a huge fan. She dragged me to see The Good Guy? twice last year.’

He laughed softly, and the sound seemed to reach inside her, tingling parts that hadn’t tingled for years. ‘Dragged? My ego feels crushed.’ His eyes searched her face and Kat felt her pulse start to race. How long since anyone had looked at her quite so intensely? Especially with eyes that were such a pretty green. ‘It seems unfair that you know my name, yet I don’t know yours.’

‘It’s Kat.’ She paused at the entrance of the ballroom. ‘Kat Parker.’

She saw him open his mouth to speak, but then a tall, elderly man walked up to greet him, slapping him on the back, and soon he was swallowed up.

Relieved, yet also utterly unbalanced, Kat slipped away, but not before casting a final glance in his direction.

As if aware of her, he looked over, and when their eyes met, he flashed her that small, sexy smile.

A smile that promised they’d meet again.

Of course, they would, but Kat knew when they did, he wouldn’t feel quite so amiable towards her.

Chapter 2

Zac swung his classic Aston Martin into the Vision Films entrance. For classic, read second hand – though when the car in question was a Vanquish, who cared if it was fifteen years old? After waving his ID at the security guard he scanned the packed car park. Spotting a space, he eased his foot onto the accelerator and headed towards it. He wasn’t late – he never was – but his fear of being late ensured he planned for every eventuality. It meant zeroing in on the first available space he saw, just in case it was the only one left.

As he headed towards it, he became dimly aware of a car hurtling towards him in the opposite direction. ‘What on earth?’

He slammed his foot on the brake just as the Jeep Wrangler slipped neatly into the space. Into his space. Taking a deep breath, Zac slowly, calmly – he refused to rush over anything – levered himself out of the car and slid his sunglasses onto his head so he could get a better look at the driver who’d just jumped down from the Jeep. As the slim, dark-haired female turned to face him, the smile on her face faltered.

‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Yes, Kat Parker, it’s me.’ Any annoyance he’d felt immediately vanished at the sight of the woman he’d spent a tantalising twenty minutes with last night, before she’d disappeared. ‘Do you have something against me?’

‘Of course not, why?’

‘First you drown me in champagne, now you pinch my parking space. I wondered if this was part of some sort of vendetta.’

She tipped her head back and laughed. A spontaneous sound, as natural as breathing yet startlingly attractive. ‘The champagne I can blame on my shoes. The car park space was entirely your doing. You should have been quicker.’

‘Or perhaps you should have been more considerate,’ he countered mildly.

She shook her head, slamming the Jeep door shut. ‘I saw an empty space and I went for it. If you’d wanted it, you should have put your foot down.’ Her eyes flicked over his car. ‘You’ve got a, what, six-litre engine?’

He was ashamed to realise he had no clue what engine size the Aston had. He only knew it was elegant, and he loved elegant things. ‘Probably.’

A grin settled across the face he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time searching for last night. ‘You don’t even know the engine size, do you? Well, whatever it is, it’s wasted if you don’t use it.’

‘I thought I was in a car park,’ he felt compelled to point out. ‘Not a race circuit.’

She laughed again, this time adding a small shake of her head. ‘I remember that about you from last night. You’re funny.’

‘Thank you. I think.’

She moved away from the Jeep and now he could see her trim figure, dressed today in black leggings, black boots and a plain black T-shirt.

‘I see you’ve got your boots on today. Does that mean the public are safe from flying beverages?’

Another husky laugh. ‘I’m not sure about safe, but I’m certainly a lot steadier on my feet. Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to leg it, I’m late. Good luck finding a place for the Aston.’ Her face lit up with another smile. ‘Fancy cars are a dime a dozen round here, but she’s a beauty.’

Intrigued by her, he watched as she marched quickly towards the Vision Films entrance. What connection did she have to the production company? The fact that she was at the party last night and here again today suggested she worked for them. Film editor? Set designer? She was confident enough to be a director, but he didn’t recognise her. Maybe she was in admin, though it was hard to see her in anything so ordinary. Even dressed as she was, all in black, she was far too … vivid.

Whatever she did, she didn’t have to walk far to it. He, on the other hand, was probably going to end up in the overflow car park. Not that he was against a walk, but preferably not on a hot June morning when he was wearing a lightweight wool suit. Yes, he knew he hadn’t needed the suit. He also knew that linen would have been a more sensible choice. But linen creased, and when Zac didn’t know the person he was meeting, he preferred the armour of a smart suit.

Muttering under his breath, he climbed back into the Aston and blasted the air-conditioning up as he drove slowly around the car park looking for another space.

Five minutes later he strolled through the entrance. Despite the car park altercation, he was still early for his meeting because punctuality was one of his – obsessions was too severe a word – he preferred idiosyncrasies. It was manners not to keep people waiting, just as it was manners to dress well for them and be polite. It was also manners not to tear into someone else’s car park space, but Kat Parker didn’t seem to observe the usual conventions.

Maybe he’d check with reception after his appointment and see if she worked here.

The thought of potentially seeing her again gave his mood a brief, but very welcome lift. Considering everything else that was going on in his life, he could do with another dose of the vital, attractive woman he’d enjoyed verbally sparring with last night.

First though, he had a rather more pressing matter to attend to. Shoulders set, he strode through the swanky marble reception area of Vision Films, trying to ignore the insecurity that pricked, like needles, whenever he was faced with the enormity of the world he was currently inhabiting. His star was on the rise, he was working with a major film production company, yet the doubts and worries continued to plague him. How long would it all last? And when the bubble burst, how damaging would the fallout be?

Christ. He was piling paranoia on top of paranoia. Brushing the negative thoughts aside, he slid a hand into the pocket of his suit trousers and pasted on a smile for the pretty blonde on the reception desk. ‘Good morning, Cassie.’

‘Hey there, Zac.’ Her expression, warm, admiring, was a long, luxurious stroke to his ego. ‘You’re here to see Jerry Collier?’

‘Correct.’ Exactly why the Head of Security had asked to see him, Zac wasn’t sure, though he hoped it had something to do with the note he’d found taped to the door of his apartment yesterday afternoon. Lucky me, it had said. I know where you live. But will it be lucky for you? All neatly signed off with a vivid pink, lipstick kiss. It had been the fifth such note he’d received, each slightly creepier than the last.

Likely it was nothing, of course. By starring in the shock success of last year – the relatively low-budget action film, The Good Guy? – he’d probably simply acquired that miserable celebrity curse: a stalker.

Even so, the idea of someone watching his every move made his stomach turn. He was only just getting to grips with the concept of being famous, and the restrictions that placed on his life. The dread when he noticed he’d been spotted. The interruptions to sign autographs, to take his photo. The worry about the photos he wasn’t aware of. He was a private man, catapulted into a celebrity world where privacy was a luxury. Still, if that’s all this was, a celebrity stalker, he could deal with it. A small price to pay for the joy of being able to make a living from his passion, from immersing himself in another personality. Becoming someone else.

A skill he’d practised for most of his life.

But what if he wasn’t being stalked because he was a celebrity? What if there was another reason behind the notes? That’s what had woken him up in a cold sweat last night.

‘Jerry says to go straight up.’ Cassie’s voice was a welcome interruption to his spiralling thoughts. ‘He’s on the second floor, first door on the right.’ She gave him a coy smile. ‘Would you like me to show you up?’

‘Thank you,’ he answered smoothly. ‘But I’m sure I can find it.’

With a nod and a further flash of his perfect smile, he strode over to the lifts.

***

Son of a bitch, now she was really late. Kat dashed out of the ladies’ where she’d spent the last few minutes sitting on the loo – yes, she could multi-task but no, in this case she’d put the lid down – trying to talk her sister out of a total meltdown. Mandy, who she’d just dropped off at rehab, had totally freaked out on being told she needed to stay there for sixty days.

‘Two fucking months, Kat,’ she’d screamed down the phone. ‘I can’t do that long. Debs will go nuts.’

Kat had already warned her niece that her mum would need to stay longer this time. ‘Debs will be cool with it,’ she’d reassured her sister, though having spent the second part of the crappy morning taking her truculent fourteen-year-old niece to school, she’d said it with her fingers crossed. ‘I’ll be there for her, and we’ll come and visit you. Chill.’

‘I can’t chill. Come and get me, please. I don’t want to be here.’

Kat’s heart had ached for her, but she’d lived with Mandy’s addictions for too long. Softening her voice, she’d told her the truth. ‘You’ve tried outpatient therapy and shorter stays, and they didn’t work. If you want your daughter to remember you as the strong, vibrant woman I know you are, then you need to work through this.’

It had done the trick, and her sister had promised she’d stick it out.

But damn it, now she was running so far behind even she was embarrassed by it. Collier, the guy in charge of security for the production company, would likely go apeshit. He’d asked her, via Mark, her boss, to turn up half an hour before their meeting with Zac Edwards, so he could brief her. Now she was just hoping she could get to Collier’s office before Edwards did. Why the hell had the man arrived early? Didn’t he realise celebrities were allowed to be late?

Dashing towards the lifts, she jammed her hand on the button just as the doors were about to close. As they slowly opened again, she stared at the man inside and sighed.

Looking as cool and laid back as he had in the car park in his immaculately fitting suit, designer shades now slotted into the top pocket, Zac Edwards gave her a sexy smirk of a smile. ‘Not content with pinching my car park space, I see you now want to encroach on my lift.’

‘I’m joining you in the lift.’ Ignoring the flutter in her chest, she went to press the second floor, but it had already been pressed. Of course, it had. Because the man she appeared to be having an embarrassing hormonal reaction to, was her new client.

‘Apparently you are.’ With a languid grace she’d never aspire to, he leant back against the wall of the lift and crossed his ankles. ‘Are you always so … impatient?’

She hiccupped out a laugh. ‘I’m not impatient. I’m late. And please don’t give me the speech about setting off earlier, because I know that now. Trust me when I say I’ve had the sort of morning it would be hard to predict.’

He gave a lazy shrug of broad shoulders that were showcased by his perfectly fitted jacket. ‘Expect the unexpected.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Hey, you’re preaching to the converted. That’s totally the motto I live my professional life by.’

‘But?’

‘Let’s just say my private life is way too chaotic to call.’ Suddenly the lift came to a shuddering stop. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

He eased off the wall. ‘Not claustrophobic, I hope.’

‘No. Just frustrated that I’m now going to be even later.’ She jabbed at the emergency button. ‘Come on, come on.’

‘There’s that impatience again.’ His lips curved into the smile that had made him a household name. ‘Relax. It’ll just be a temporary blip.’

Sighing, she turned to face him. ‘I suppose there are worse things than being stuck in a lift with, you know.’ She waved a hand in his direction. ‘You. I could have been stuck here by myself, or with a sweaty, overweight bloke who smelt of BO.’

‘I’m glad I was here to save you from that purgatory.’

Kat had to bite into her cheek to stop an unprofessional giggle. This man with his fancy suits and fancy looks sure used a lot of really funny, fancy words.

The lift gave another shudder before moving again, smoothly coming to a stop a few seconds later.

As she stepped out and turned down the corridor, she was acutely aware of him walking beside her. The warmth of his body through that ridiculously smart suit – who wore a suit during the hottest June on record? Then there was his expensive aftershave. She was almost hyperventilating with the desire to keep inhaling it.

‘I see we’re going in the same direction.’ He gave her a quizzical look. ‘What is it you do for Vision Films?’

They both came to a stop outside Jerry Collier’s door and she sucked in a deep breath. ‘You’re about to find out.’

At his bewildered expression, she felt the first jangle of nerves. This wasn’t how it had been planned. Mark was already worried about assigning her to such a high-profile case, a fact that had both touched and really frigging annoyed her. Despite assuring him she was totally up to it though, here she was, ballsing it up before she’d even properly started. She wasn’t supposed to have met Edwards yet. She also wasn’t supposed to be so late this morning that she was arriving with the guy. And they certainly shouldn’t have been flirting with each other, no matter how mildly.

The door swung open and Jerry, a big, imposing guy in his mid-fifties you wouldn’t want to piss off, stared at her before reaching out to shake the actor by the hand. ‘Good to meet you, Zac. I see you and Kat have already been introduced.’

‘Err, not exactly.’ Usually Kat had no problem talking herself out of a situation, but this was a bit tricky. ‘We sort of bumped into each other last night.’

‘Literally.’ Zac narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s going on here?’

Jerry looked between her and Edwards, and sighed. ‘When I heard about the note stuck on your front door yesterday, I asked Kat to discreetly keep an eye out for you last night. Today she was supposed to have arrived before you, so I could make the introductions properly, but it seems she’s jumped the gun.’

‘Keep an eye out for me?’ Zac was clearly confused, and Kat felt a knot of tension tighten in her stomach. Her gut told her he wasn’t going to like what he heard next.

‘Yes. That’s what she’s here for.’ Jerry nodded in her direction. ‘Zac Edwards, meet Kat Parker. Your bodyguard.’

As she watched the news sink in, Kat noticed the differing emotions flicker across her new client’s handsome face. The bewilderment and disbelief, she was used to. All part of the joy of being a woman in a man’s world. She didn’t mind the annoyance either, because God knows she wouldn’t like to have someone foisted on her. No, it was the interlaced horror that alarmed her.

Was he horrified Vision Films were so worried about his safety they’d assigned him a bodyguard? Or horrified his bodyguard was a woman?

Worse still, was the horror because his bodyguard was her?

Kat unconsciously squared her shoulders. She couldn’t do much about her job, or her gender, but she could make sure he only saw Kat the professional from now on.

Chapter 3

Zac didn’t know which of the mind-blowing pieces of information to focus on first. That the production company had hired him a bodyguard who looked so inexperienced, and appeared so chaotic. Or that said bodyguard was the woman he’d been flirting with last night and just now in the lift.

Five minutes ago, he’d been anticipating tracking her down so he could ask her out for a drink, hopefully get to know her. Now he didn’t need to do that. Because from now on she was going to be sticking to him like glue.

‘Pardon?’ It seemed the safest response. He’d long ago curbed his natural instinct to say what he thought, which was something along the lines of Are you shitting me?, with a heavy dose of What the fuck?

Jerry let out another long exhale – he’d clearly been expecting this to go more smoothly – before pointing to the seating area in the corner of his office. ‘Why don’t you take a seat and I can go over a few things.’ He narrowed his eyes at Kat. ‘With both of you.’

Kat winced, and Zac felt a smidgen of sympathy for her. Then again, she’d known about this … arrangement all along, and hadn’t had the decency to tell him. Not even after she’d upended champagne all over him.

Not even after he’d tried to flirt with her.

Steering clear of the sofa, he headed for the armchair, figuring he needed the small amount of space it provided. Space to remind himself that Jerry didn’t know the things Zac did. Jerry had no reason to believe the stalker wasn’t just a crazy fan, and likely, make that extremely likely, that’s all he or she was. It’s just, in those moments between sleep and wake, when doubts and worries were hugely exaggerated … in those moments, Zac had begun to think of other, far more terrifying possibilities. None of which he could voice, because in the world of Zac Edwards, actor, the part of his life that lent itself to those dark thoughts, had been scrubbed clean.

Jerry hunkered down on the sofa, but Kat shook her head and walked over to the desk, resting against it with her arms crossed. Her face, the one he’d enjoyed seeing smile, was now serious, those dark eyes watching him. Under different circumstances he’d have enjoyed her eyes on him, but not as his bodyguard. Not when he was riddled with fear over who might be trying to frighten him.

Deciding his best play was to feign nonchalance, Zac leant forward on the chair, loosely clasping his hands. ‘Who decided that I need a bodyguard?’

‘I did.’ Jerry twisted to face him. ‘We’re used to actors getting weird mail, but when the sender sticks the letter to the actor’s front door, it’s time to worry.’

‘Really?’ Zac felt his pulse kick up a gear. ‘You don’t think it’s just a deranged fan? Notes signed in pink lipstick don’t exactly scream menacing.’

‘And you’d know menacing when you saw it?’ Kat asked, her tone detached now. No longer the warm, chatty woman he’d talked to in the lift.

You have no idea what I know. Words he couldn’t say. ‘I know I don’t need a bodyguard if this is simply a crazy female fan,’ he settled for.

‘So because the stalker might be a female, you think you’re safe?’ Kat’s eyes narrowed. ‘If I decided to attack you, you could, what, just swat me away?’

She was offended, he realised. ‘Of course not. You’re a professional. You’d wipe the floor with me.’

At last, a return of her smile. ‘Good answer.’

‘All I’m saying is that if it’s just a crazy fan, then I don’t see the need for a bodyguard.’ He could do without intrusion in his life, thank you very much. ‘But if you believe the stalker might be more dangerous than that …’ Or if my fears turn out to be correct, he thought grimly. ‘If you really believe I’m at risk, then I’m happy to concede that I need protection.’ In fact I’ll need the most experienced, most professional bodyguard you can put your hands on. He doubted that was Kat.

‘It’s less about how dangerous the stalker might be,’ Jerry interjected. ‘And more about anticipating and preventing an attack in the first place. That’s where Kat comes in.’

Zac avoided looking at Kat as he spoke his next words to Jerry. ‘Do you mind if we discuss this privately?’

Jerry heaved out a sigh and with that, and the way Kat’s back turned ramrod straight, Zac knew exactly how unimpressed they were with his request. ‘There’s nothing you can say in front of Kat that she won’t have heard already.’

Okay, so this was going to remain at Awkward Level 10. And if he couldn’t get Collier to change his mind, Zac knew he’d just pissed off the one person he’d be relying on to keep him safe.

‘Jerry.’ He spread his hands out in a show of geniality. ‘I’m sure Kat is excellent at identifying risky situations, as you say.’

‘I am.’

‘She is.’

Don’t be put off by the steely glares. This is your life they’re discussing, not a part in a film. ‘However, she’s not as experienced as I imagined a bodyguard should be for this particular situation.’

‘First you say you don’t need a bodyguard, now you’re saying you want one with more experience.’ Jerry leant forward, his eyes piercing Zac’s. ‘Are you usually this contrary or is there something you’re not telling us?’

Inside Zac squirmed like a worm on the end of the hook, but outside he knew he looked cool, calm and collected. That was acting for you. ‘You know as much as I do, Jerry. I’m simply asking questions to identify if I really am at risk, and if I am, if you’re going to be able to protect me.’

Jerry’s voice hardened and Zac felt the power behind the Don’t mess with me tone. ‘Vision Films takes the safety of our actors very seriously. Kat works for our preferred provider, UK Security. She’s had twelve years with the army, and another three doing exactly this, so she’s got plenty of experience under her belt. Listen to her and do what she asks. She knows what she’s talking about. Even if she can’t always turn up on time.’

‘And it was going so well,’ Kat muttered. ‘Thanks, Jerry.’

The pair of them exchanged a look and Zac realised he’d been wrong in his initial impression that Jerry was annoyed with her. They clearly shared a bond. Respect, certainly, but he guessed something more, too. Affection, maybe. It explained why Jerry hadn’t liked him questioning Kat’s ability. It also told Zac any further push to change her would be viewed in a distinctly unfavourable, and possibly suspicious, light.

Jerry’s attention was back on Zac. ‘I realise you’re going to find this all very inconvenient, but while you’re under contract with Vision Films you’re going to have to suck it up. If Kat determines something is necessary for your safety, you do it or the studio lawyers will be onto you for breach of contract.’ He gave Zac the faintest of smiles. ‘Is there anything else you need to ask me, before I leave you in Kat’s very capable hands?’

‘Have you seen this approach before? Are there any suspects?’ Probably he was worrying about nothing, and lipstick notes had been delivered to other celebrities with no harm done.

‘Stalkers sending notes to celebrities isn’t new, but I’ve not heard of any being signed in pink lipstick before.’ Jerry stood, clearly signalling the meeting was over. ‘We’re working closely with the police on it, though. Kat will keep you in the loop.’

Reluctantly Zac rose to his feet. Reluctantly, because when he walked out of the door, he was going to have a bodyguard trailing around with him. Not only would that bodyguard be a constant reminder of the danger he could be in, she was also a woman he’d been flirting with. And one he’d just thoroughly pissed off.

***

Kat’s assignment was quiet as they walked into the lift.

‘Which was the biggest shock,’ she asked as the doors closed. ‘Being told you were being assigned a bodyguard, or finding out the bodyguard was me?’

A wry smile crossed his handsome face. It sure wasn’t going to be a hardship looking at him for the next however long. ‘Would it offend if I said the latter?’

‘That depends. The part about me not being experienced enough. Was that your way of saying I wasn’t male enough? That you’d feel better if I was a big, muscle-bound dude?’

He smiled again, the very smile that had helped make The Good Guy? such a big hit. Actors with beaming white grins, the public were used to, but the little sexy smirk Zac Edwards had going on? That was both unusual and, even to a cynic like herself, rather charming. ‘I bet you get that all the time, but actually, no, it wasn’t.’ He shifted his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘It was a reference to your age. Size, I’m given to understand, isn’t important.’

She snorted. ‘Are you seriously going to tell me it’s what you do with it, that counts?’

‘Actually, I was going to say it’s how you’re trained to use it, that counts.’ Before she had a chance to shake her head at his innuendo, he added, ‘You, I imagine, can be lethal.’

Despite her irritation at him, laughter burst out of her. ‘Neat catch.’ As soon as it had come, though, the laughter died and the anger, the disappointment, returned. ‘Okay, say I buy that, and you really weren’t going to ask Jerry for a male bodyguard in that private little chat you wanted, why the look of horror when Jerry told you I was your bodyguard?’

‘You know why.’

‘Err, if I did, I wouldn’t be asking.’

His shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. ‘I was annoyed you didn’t tell me who you were last night.’ The lift came to a stop and as they walked out into the reception area, he slid her a glance. ‘You had me at a disadvantage. I would have reacted differently if I’d known.’

She figured he had a point. ‘Yeah, sorry about that. I did consider telling you, but Jerry’s got this real bee in his bonnet about doing the introductions.’ She cleared her throat. ‘It sets the boundaries, Kat,’ she said, imitating Jerry’s gruff voice. ‘Makes it clear I’m the one in charge and you both need to take instructions from me.’

‘I see.’ A glimmer of a smile. ‘Though I find it hard to imagine the rather intimidating Mr Collier in a bonnet, bee or not.’ Zac paused, glancing down at his highly polished black shoes before raising his eyes back to hers. ‘And you? Would you have reacted differently if you’d met me by accident, with no hidden agenda?’

I’m pretty sure I’d have flirted right back at you. No, no, no. For their relationship to work, she couldn’t admit it. ‘We’ll never know.’ Before he could say anything more, she threw out a question of her own. ‘So you’re unhappy I didn’t warn you who I was when I dumped champagne all over you, and you think I’m inexperienced. Is that it, or is there more?’

Zac’s eyes drifted away from her and through the window to the car park. ‘If we believe the stalker is simply a fan with a screw loose, having a bodyguard, aside from the obvious intrusion, feels a little … emasculating.’

There he was with his fancy words again. ‘Will your balls feel safer if I tell you just because the letters appear to have come from a woman, doesn’t mean they have? But say yours have, you’re assuming a mere female couldn’t hurt you. Tell that to the male victims of “Monster” Aileen Wuornos, and to the husband of Katherine Knight whose body parts ended up in a stew. Or to the men who visited Belle Gunness and ended up being fed to the pigs.’ She paused. ‘Do you want me to go on?’

‘I’m not sure my stomach can take any more.’ He ghosted her a smile. ‘I suppose I should be grateful that at least my balls feel safer now, even if I don’t.’

She winced. ‘Sorry, I usually employ more of a filter when I’m working.’

‘Please don’t, not with me.’ He raked a hand restlessly through his hair. ‘This situation is going to be intolerable enough. I’d rather you were … you.’

Well, she’d hadn’t expected that. Then again, she’d not quite got the measure of the man yet. Most actors she’d met wouldn’t put on a suit to meet the head of security. Nor would they have taken her spilling drink over them, or pinching a car park space from under their noses, quite so calmly. They certainly wouldn’t have flirted with her, because actors went for beautiful willowy types, and she was more of a, well, a holly bush. Short but could do some serious damage if provoked.

‘You don’t realise what you’re letting yourself in for,’ she felt duty bound to warn him. ‘In unfiltered mode I can be pretty full-on. Just ask my sister, or my niece. They’ve been trying to gag me for years.’

‘Oh, I think I know.’ Those obscenely pretty green eyes met hers. ‘At the very least it will be a welcome diversion from …’ His shoulders rose and fell as he exhaled. ‘All this.’

His unhappiness with the situation was clear, and she felt a dart of sympathy for him. Knowing the threat was real enough to convince a film company he needed a bodyguard had to be a pretty scary prospect.

Almost as scary as being assigned to be that bodyguard.

Kat forced her mind away from the dark alley. She needed this. Three years of protecting film company bigwigs and minor stars who were no more at risk than she was just wasn’t enough. It was time to prove to Mark, prove to herself, that she could step up. Zac Edwards, a high-profile celebrity currently being stalked, would give her that chance.

And damn it, she was ready for it.

Nodding towards the exit, Kat started to walk. ‘Okay then, you get the real me. But no moaning later when your ears are complaining. Now, what’s your filming schedule like today, because at some point we need to head to your place and work out if it’s secure enough for you to stay there.’

He came to a halt just before the revolving door. Well, more of a slow, gliding stop because, like his speech, everything about this man was elegant and controlled. ‘I might have to move?’

There was no might about it. The nut job knew where he lived. No way was she, or the film company, going to be happy with him staying in his own home from now on. Not with the implied threat in the note. Still, he’d had enough shocks for now. ‘I’ll decide once I’ve taken a look.’

He ran a hand across his face in a gesture that looked both weary and frustrated. ‘I wish I’d kept quiet about the blasted note.’

‘Better that, than staring into the maniacal eyes of a knife-wielding psycho, and wishing you’d told someone.’

The blood drained from his face. ‘An eloquently made point.’ He paused, clearly trying to find his balance. ‘In answer to your question, I’m due on set at midday. But I have lines to go through.’

‘You’ve not learnt them already?’ It didn’t seem to fit with the man who’d turned up freakishly early to his appointment with Jerry.

‘Of course, I have.’ He glanced away, and she thought he looked embarrassed. ‘But a person can never be overprepared.’

She had to fight a smile. God, he was definitely on the obsessive side of the spectrum. ‘Is that the same way a person can’t be overly early for an appointment? Or overdressed?’

‘Exactly.’

If he knew she was taking the mickey, it didn’t show. ‘How about, just this once, you stick to being simply prepared, and we head over to yours now. That way, I can check out alternative places for you to stay while you’re filming.’

His right brow shot up. ‘What happened to deciding once you’d taken a look?’

Busted. ‘It’s still the plan.’ Oh, stuff it. He’d asked her to be herself. And that person said things how they were. ‘Look, don’t get your hopes up. Now this stalker knows where you live, your place would have to have more security than Fort Knox for me to agree to you staying there. Better that we move you to a hotel.’

His shoulders slumped. ‘Great.’

‘It could be kind of great. Just think, room service 24/7, laundry done for you. All those tempting miniatures with the studio picking up the minibar tab.’ When his expression remained bleak, she added, ‘Fresh towels every day. Bed turned down for you every night. Chocolate on your pillow?’

‘Please tell me you’re not always this … upbeat?’

‘You wanted to say irritating, didn’t you?’

He blinked, eyes darting away from hers, though his mouth twitched. ‘I wouldn’t be so rude.’

No, she thought. Yet all those manners, those careful words, weren’t going to help the situation. ‘Look, you asked for the real me, but that works both ways. We’re going to be pretty much glued to eachother for a while, so I need to know what you’re thinking, too. If I’m being annoying, tell me. Ditto if you’re worried about something. My job is to keep you safe but if we don’t get on, or if you keep things from me, it’ll make life difficult.’

He nodded, though she noticed his eyes avoided hers. ‘Understood.’

‘Okay then. We’ll take the Jeep to your place.’

She started towards the door, but stopped when she realised he wasn’t following her. Instead he remained where he was, hand loosely in his trouser pocket. Whoever had made that suit, the image of him now would make one hell of an advert for it. ‘Is this one of those occasions I can say you’re being annoying?’

‘Because?’

He glanced out of the door and towards the car park. ‘I have a perfectly good car. A beauty, I believe you called it.’

‘So I did. And because it’s a beauty, it’s also highly recognisable.’

‘But you’ll be following me.’

‘No, I’ll be driving you.’ She watched as his expression turned pained. ‘Not a fan of female drivers?’

‘It’s not that.’ His chest heaved with a sigh. ‘I bought the car because I like to drive it. You know, one of life’s luxuries?’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry, that sounded crass.’

Her respect for him went up a notch. They were clearly polar opposites; personality, background, earnings. You name it, she had a hunch sometime soon they were going to clash because of it. Yet so far he seemed quieter, more thoughtful, and less arrogant than she’d expected. ‘Hey, for me luxury is a plate of nachos, heavy on the cheese, and a bottle of beer while watching the Grand Prix on the TV, but I can relate.’

He regarded her soberly for a moment before the edge of his mouth curved, ever so slightly, upwards. ‘So, you’re a motorsport fan. Why doesn’t that surprise me.’ With that he started towards the door, leaving Kat to hurry after him so she could ensure she walked out ahead.

This assignment looked like it was going to test her in more ways than she’d bargained for when she’d first pleaded with Mark to let her take it.

Chapter 4

He hadn’t planned on anyone seeing inside his place today. Script open on his knee – yes, he caught her smirking at him, no it wasn’t going to stop him – Zac tried to focus on his lines while she drove. And not on how intrusive it felt to have a stranger come and inspect his home. At least it would be tidy. Unlike the inside of Kat’s Jeep. He glanced again at the centre console. There was a half-eaten bag of Starburst, surrounded by a rainbow of discarded wrappers, an open pack of Polo mints, an empty take-out coffee cup and a pen with a chewed end.

It made him wonder again about her professionalism. Turning up late, untidy … call him old school, but they hinted at a sloppiness that wasn’t a trait he wanted in someone responsible for his safety. Especially now she’d convinced him even a crazy female fan could be more dangerous than he’d bargained for.

To take his mind off things, he started to pick up the discarded wrappers.

‘I thought you were overpreparing.’

He dragged his eyes back to the script. ‘I am.’

‘Really? It looks like you’re tidying up for me.’

‘No,’ he corrected. ‘I’m doing it for me.’

‘I bet your car is immaculate. Not a speck of dust, or a greasy finger mark.’

‘I believe in being tidy, yes. Just like I believe in being punctual. Standards are important.’

He noticed her body stiffen. ‘If you have something you want to say, just say it. Like I said, we need to be honest with each other.’

How could he voice his fear, that she might not be professional enough, or experienced enough, to deal with the danger he was most terrified of, when he couldn’t articulate that specific threat? ‘I don’t understand the fascination with confectionery,’ he said instead.

Her sidelong glance told him she wasn’t convinced of his reply. ‘Why, were your parents dentists?’

‘No.’ He turned his head, looking out of the passenger window, and held his breath while he waited for her follow-up question.

‘Of course, they weren’t. Sorry, for a moment I forgot you were posh.’

She’d read his biography, then. At least he’d be spared the family questions. ‘How about your parents? I suspect they weren’t dentists, either.’

‘No.’

It was the same single-syllable answer he’d given, yet from someone so loquacious up to now, it was a clear signal she didn’t want to talk about them. ‘Whatever they did, I feel sorry for them. I bet you were a handful when you were younger.’ His eyes zeroed in on another stray wrapper and he missed the way her expression shuttered.

‘Why would you say that?’

‘You have to ask, after what happened in the car park?’ He screwed the wrapper up and placed it in the empty cup with the rest of his catch. ‘There’s a hint of mischief, of a troublemaker, about you.’

‘You’re wrong.’ Her clipped words took him by surprise. ‘What you saw in the car park was the result of a vow never to allow myself to be pushed around, bullied, or walked over ever again.’

Zac cursed inwardly, annoyed with himself. It seemed he’d done what he hated others doing to him. Made a judgement without the facts. ‘Sorry. I actually meant my remarks as a compliment. It’s refreshing to meet someone so … unconventional.’

Her hands slowly relaxed the vice-like hold they’d had on the steering wheel. ‘Unconventional? Is that your fancy way of saying I’m odd?’

‘No. It’s my fancy way of apologising.’ Interested, he angled his head towards her. ‘Collier said you’d been in the army. Did that have something to do with this vow?’

‘In a way, yes, because it gave me a means of escape. Mainly I joined for the thrill of doing something different, something physical. Challenging myself. I mean, I was never going to sit at a desk, that’s for certain.’

‘No.’

She slid him a look. ‘You don’t think I could hack it in an office?’

‘I think that would stifle your … spirit.’

‘It would certainly drive me crazy.’

Suddenly the mood in the car changed and he watched, part in fascination, part in fear, as she checked the mirror and quickly switched lanes. For the next few minutes she alternated her focus between the road ahead and the rear-view mirror, turning right when the sat nav said left, an intensity to her bearing that hadn’t been there before. Yet when she finally spoke again, it was as if nothing had happened. ‘What about you? Why did you get into acting?’

‘I enjoy it.’ He swallowed, relieved to find he still had some saliva left after the heart-bumping few minutes. ‘Are you going to tell me why we’re going the wrong way?’

She appeared briefly confused. ‘Oh, you mean the right turn? A white Golf has been behind us for the last five minutes. I wanted to check if it was following us.’

‘And was it?’

‘If it was, it decided not to make it obvious.’ He felt his palms begin to sweat and when he didn’t reply, she spoke again. ‘Not the answer you were looking for?’

‘A simple no would have worked.’

‘It would also give you a false sense of security.’ Her voice was strong and steady. Clearly he was the only one in the car rattled by what had happened. ‘Look, whoever’s leaving you those love notes managed to find out where you live,’ she continued in that same, matter-of-fact tone. ‘As I assume you don’t make the information public knowledge, either they’ve hacked into some database to find it, or they’ve asked the right people. Or they’ve followed you home.’

He felt everything inside him clench and tighten. Considering the perks of his life, being paid a stupid sum of money for doing what he loved, he could concede that he deserved the reporters and the cameras with their prying lenses. At least there were rules governing how far they could encroach. The stalker was different, though. The person who’d walked right up to his front door and left the note clearly didn’t follow rules.

Once again, he felt the slippery coils of fear wrap around his gut. Who was doing this to him? Were they doing it to scare him, or did they have a more sinister motive? And if the latter, would Kat Parker, with her disorganised ways and her whole three years of experience, really have a chance in hell of stopping them?

‘You’ve gone quiet on me.’ She laughed softly. ‘Maybe I should say “even quieter”, because you don’t seem the type who likes to talk.’

Zac massaged the back of his neck in a bid to rub out the tension. He was getting overly paranoid. This was a fan who got a kick out of leaving him notes. In a matter of days, the police would discover who it was and order her to keep away. ‘I’m trying to get my head around it all.’

‘Will it help if I tell you we see this a lot? The stalker is usually found quickly, given a restraining order and never heard from again.’

‘It would help if you’d left out the usually.’

‘Ah, but then I’d be lying, and that’s something I promise not to do.’

He wondered if she was aware her hands had gripped the steering wheel again. ‘I can tell you I’ve never lost a … client.’

Her hesitation, almost imperceptible, did nothing to allay his fears. She hadn’t lost a client, but she had lost someone? ‘But were any of those clients in danger? Were they being stalked?’

‘Danger doesn’t always come waving a big red flag.’ Halting at a traffic light, she turned those sharp brown eyes on him. ‘I might be untidy, and today I might have turned up late, but I can also tell you – stuff that – I can promise you, none of it is a reflection on how I operate in my job. I’m bloody good at what I do.’

‘Ah.’ He shifted on the seat, feeling about three foot tall. ‘What gave me away?’

‘You thought I wouldn’t pick up on that dig about standards?’

‘I’m sorry. I …’ His brain came up blank. He had nothing that could explain his snotty comment. Nothing that wouldn’t leave him open to further questions about why he was so paranoid she wasn’t up to the job. ‘I’m sure you’re eminently capable,’ he finished lamely.

***

As Kat pulled up outside the swanky modern apartment block in Highgate, she mentally high fived herself. Yep, just as she’d imagined. She’d like to bet inside it was all wooden floors, stainless steel fittings and … minimalism. Was that a word? She was pretty sure it was. Also, pretty sure nobody would ever accuse her of it.

Parking in the private underground car park, she noted the lack of security. No CCTV, no electronic gate. There was a key fob entry system, but all the stalker had to do was wait for someone else to enter or leave and walk in after them. There was no reception area, no door man.

Mr Edwards was going to have to move out. And she could just imagine how happy he was going to be about that. The guy was already quietly freaking out after the not-sure-if-it-was-a-tail incident. Well, she assumed he was freaking out but it was hard to tell because at times his thoughts were locked away so securely – not just in a vault, but within a castle with the steel portcullis down and the drawbridge up – it was impossible for her to get a read on him.

She did know he wasn’t impressed with her so-called standards, though, or her relative inexperience, and it rankled. He was finding her guilty without any evidence. There’s plenty to be had if he knew where to look. Yeah, that thought could go and take a running jump. She hadn’t been at fault.

She hadn’t.

At least that’s what everyone had told her.

When they reached the door to his apartment, he gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m heading for 24/7 room service and a chocolate on my pillow, aren’t I?’

Taking the key from him, she opened the door and motioned for him to wait. When she was satisfied it was clear, she waved him inside. ‘Was my expression that obvious?’

His gaze captured hers and once again she felt the power of his attraction. It wasn’t just that his eyes were a pretty shade of green. It was the pull of them. ‘The curl of your lip did rather give it away.’

Oops. Not the time to tell him the sneer hadn’t been about the security, but about the soulless looking apartment block. ‘I can’t understand why the security on these modern places is so lax. Surely that’s the advantage of buying one.’

‘You make it sound like the only advantage.’

Oh crap. ‘No. I mean I can see why you like it.’ She walked back into the open plan living area, with its gleaming – she’d guessed it – wooden floors, huge glass windows, weird modern art, fancy leather sofa with two strategically placed cushions. And complete absence of any clutter whatsoever. ‘It’s very you.’

Whatever he thought of her remark, he kept it to himself. ‘I’ll throw a few things in a suitcase.’ He nodded over to the clinical looking open plan kitchen. ‘Feel free to make yourself a drink.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She stepped towards the spotless worktop. ‘Where’s your mug tree? The tea and coffee canisters? This morning’s breakfast things you’ve not had time to clear away?’

With a resigned sigh, he pressed a hand against one of the shiny white doors. When it glided open, she saw two rows of neatly stacked black mugs. ‘These modern places have plenty of cupboard spaces, so no need for a mug tree.’ He pushed open an adjacent door. ‘Or tea canisters.’ Finally, he gave a unit near the sink a gentle pull, revealing a dishwasher. ‘And if you give yourself enough time in the morning, you can clear up before you leave.’ He smirked. ‘And avoid being so late you have to pinch someone’s car park space.’

‘Sarcastic sod,’ she muttered under her breath as he walked away. Her heart bumped as he halted.

‘I heard that.’

‘Heard what?’ She gave him a wide, innocent grin. ‘I’m too scared to make a mess in there, so I’ll just …’ She pointed to the sofa. ‘Try to sit as neatly as I can on your sofa while I wait.’

He shook his head, and she could have sworn she heard the words, sarcastic sod thrown back at her, though it was hard to be sure. Apparently, he was a master at hiding his thoughts even when he said them out loud.

Gingerly she went to perch on the sofa. After two minutes of looking at her phone – one message from Mandy, apologising and saying she’d pulled herself together and one from her niece saying she’d be late home because she was seeing a friend after school – Kat pushed it into her pocket and skimmed her eyes across the living space. They rested on a glass-fronted cabinet at the far end. Intrigued to see if there was anything inside that would give her a hint of the man she’d been assigned to protect, she strolled up to it.

Her jaw almost hit the floor when she saw the contents.

Teapots?

And not clever, modern, arty teapots either. Fussy, old fashioned … let’s be honest, totally naff teapots. The type your granny would have used, back in the days when she’d also have shoved a hand-knitted tea cosy over it.

Utterly spellbound, Kat opened the door and, not daring to touch, feasted her eyes on them. One, two, three … crikey moses, there had to be a dozen of them.

‘I’m done.’

Guiltily Kat stepped away and turned to see Zac standing in the middle of the living room, staring at her. At his feet was a very expensive looking leather holdall. He’d changed out of his suit and into a pair of grey tailored trousers and a meticulously ironed pale-pink collared shirt. Over his arm was a suit carrier with, she guessed, several more designer suits, pressed trousers and collared shirts.

‘Right then.’ Ask about the teapots. She had to, right, because it would look odd if she didn’t mention it. Never mind the fact she was bursting to know the story behind them. ‘I was just admiring your teapots.’

‘So I see.’

She might have guessed Mr Closed Book wasn’t going to make this easy. ‘Have you been collecting them long?’ She bit into her cheek to suppress the giggle bursting to explode. Was she really having a conversation with heart-throb actor Zac Edwards about his teapot collection?

‘I’ve had them a while, yes.’ His eyes held hers, and she had to admire his acting skills. Whether he was amused, angry, or just mildly irritated, she hadn’t a clue.

‘You know what I’m dying to ask, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ He picked up the holdall and turned towards the front door. ‘What I don’t know, is why you’re holding back.’

‘Because I don’t want to piss you off. Protection duty only works if the bodyguard and the client get on.’ He put his hand up to open the door, but she shook her head. ‘From now on, that’s my job. I go in and out first, check it’s clear, and then you follow.’

He uttered a mild expletive but dropped his hand and took a step back.

Once they were back in the Jeep, he cleared his throat. ‘Ask the question. I made you uncomfortable earlier; it’s only fair you get a shot back.’

She glanced at his handsome profile. ‘Why do you collect teapots?’

‘I don’t. They’re my mother’s.’ Immediately he slid a phone out of his trouser pocket. ‘Excuse me while I make a call. I need to let my manager know what’s happening.’

It was clear she’d had her question, and the subject was now closed. A real bummer, because his answer had sparked a swarm of further questions. Not least why on earth the classy Lady Edwards had collected so many tacky teapots. And then palmed them off to her son.

Chapter 5

The afternoon’s filming had been tough. Or maybe Zac hadn’t been as focused as he should have been. Twice he’d forgotten his lines. Twice. He never forgot lines. He always turned up to filming impeccably prepared.

Overprepared. An image of Kat and her none-too-subtle smirk came to mind. Okay, so he had a thing about going through his lines ten times before the shoot. It wasn’t odd, it was being professional.

Except that today, his preparation had been disrupted, and his professionalism called into question. Not in so many words, but Zac hated being the one filming had to stop for. The one at fault.

Maybe this was what his stalker really wanted. To disrupt his life so much he’d no longer have a career.

The thought didn’t help his mood as Zac trudged wearily off set. ‘Zac, darling.’ Sophia Layton, who played his love interest in the film, caught his eye. With blonde hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones, she was classically beautiful. And she knew it. ‘The crew and I were talking about going out for drinks on Friday. We’re hoping …’ she smiled, showing a set of perfect white teeth. ‘I’m hoping, you’ll join us.’

Usually he’d say yes, not because he liked socialising particularly, and definitely not because he wanted to pick up on the promise in Sophia’s eyes. It was more that he saw filming as teamwork, and he was a part of the team. But as of this morning, things had changed. Now he wasn’t sure he had the autonomy to agree to a night out, or whether he needed to check with his bodyguard first.

The thought of having his life dictated by a security company stuck in his throat. ‘Sure,’ he told her, acutely aware of the irony. He’d spend the evening trying to avoid Sophia’s advances, while being watched by a woman who’d avoided his.

‘And if you ever want to go through your lines with someone.’ Sophia fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Remember I’m always available.’

‘Thank you, but I’m good.’ He had enough problems of the female variety at the moment with his stalker and his bodyguard. ‘Today was an anomaly.’

He’d make damn sure of it.

Kat was waiting for him outside his dressing room. Ignoring the way his pulse raced that little bit faster when she smiled, he went to open the door, but she shook her head.

‘Bodyguard’s first.’ After doing a quick sweep of the room – he guessed out of habit, because security within the studio was so tight she’d agreed she wasn’t needed while he was here – she nodded for him to come in. ‘Is it a wrap?’

‘For today, yes.’ He stepped inside and ran a hand over his face, his fingers sliding over make-up. Nice. God, he needed a shower. Usually he’d take one before he left. Then again, usually he didn’t have a woman waiting in his dressing room. A woman who wasn’t beautiful like the one he’d had to kiss this afternoon, on set, yet who he found far more interesting. ‘I could do with a shower. If that’s possible.’

As he met her eyes he saw a flicker of … was it amusement? Or something else? He wanted to believe she was imagining him in the shower – that’s certainly where his mind would have wandered had the boot been on the other foot. Yet he’d had no hint that she found him attractive. He knew her sister did, because her sister had dragged Kat to watch his film. So from current evidence, far from imagining him showering, it was more likely she was silently laughing at this weird shyness he’d developed.

‘No problem, I’ll wait outside.’ She was halfway towards the door when she stopped. ‘By the way, I’ve booked you into a hotel that we’ve used before. You’re on a private floor, with its own gym, that can’t be accessed without a special lift key.’

He grimaced. ‘My own personal, five-star prison cell.’

The look she gave him was heavy with sympathy. ‘It’s not forever. And you’re not under lock and key. If you want to go out, just let me know and I’ll make sure either I or Mark accompany you.’

‘Mark?’

‘Yes. He’s coming by the hotel so you can meet him. I’ll be your main point of contact, but Mark Evans will provide cover when I can’t.’ She shot him a grin. ‘He’s also the boss man, so feel free to big me up whenever you get the chance.’

She slipped out and Zac headed to the adjoining shower feeling … flat. An evening in a soulless hotel. If he wanted to go out, he couldn’t just open his front door. He had to phone and wait for a babysitter. Some people – Kat no doubt one of them – would call his apartment soulless, but at least it was his. His sofa, his bed.

His things.

He groaned as he stepped under the hot spray, his mind going back to this morning. A thousand questions had been in Kat’s eyes when he’d caught her looking at his mother’s teapots. He could only hope she kept the other nine hundred and ninety-nine to herself.

***

Zac’s eyes strayed towards the Aston Martin as he walked into the car park. Newer than his, but the sleek lines were similar enough to cause a pang in his chest.

‘Is my car still in the Vision Films car park?’

Kat ushered him into the Jeep before jumping into the driver’s side. ‘Yes, why? Worried she’ll get wet if it rains?’

He sighed, letting her have her fun. He was too fed up to argue.

‘I can arrange for her to be taken back to your place, if you like,’ Kat said quietly a moment later as she drove out of the studio gates.

‘Which place would that be? My home, or the place I’m going to be living?’ And yes, he knew he sounded testy.

‘Your home. Putting her in the hotel car park would be the equivalent of sticking a big sign outside the hotel saying Zac Edwards is staying here. As we’ve gone to all the trouble of booking you into a private floor, and ramming the whole Make sure none of your staff tell anyone he’s staying here speech down the manager’s throat, that seems a little counterproductive.’

‘The first two words were sufficient.’

Her lips curved. ‘I make it a rule never to use two words when twenty is so much more satisfying.’

‘Satisfying for whom?’

Her laughter filled the car. ‘Me, obviously.’

‘What happened to keeping the client happy?’

‘Technically the client is Vision Films.’

He guessed he deserved that. And heavens above, he was being a grumpy sod. What had he got to complain about, really? The inconvenience of having to live in a five-star hotel for a short while? Yeah, it was no wonder his cheery bodyguard was already fed up with him. He didn’t like himself right now, either. ‘Tell me how this works with you and Mark.’

She slid him a brief look. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Do you have some sort of rota?’

‘Nothing so formal. I’ll take most of the shifts, but if you’re going out every night he’ll be there to pick up some evenings. We also try to alternate weekends.’

‘I won’t be out every night.’ With a sigh, he remembered the chat with Sophia. ‘But I am going for drinks with the crew on Friday.’

‘Okay, no problem.’

What about spontaneity, though? What about meeting a woman he fancied and asking her out for a drink? Like he’d been seconds away from doing with Kat. He wasn’t a womaniser, but he wasn’t a monk, either.

She indicated and turned into a side street before speaking again. ‘I can almost see your mind working.’

God, he hoped not. ‘Yes?’

‘We’re discreet. If you want to … date, we won’t cramp your style.’

He shook his head, amused despite himself. ‘You assume I have style.’

‘Are you kidding? A man can’t look like you and not have style.’

***

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Kat kicked herself. She really needed to employ that filter. The poor guy already had an overly keen fan on his hands. The last thing he needed was his bodyguard, the one hired to protect him from the fan, fangirling all over him.

At times it was hard not to be a fan, though. Like when he’d returned to the dressing room wearing the tightest of T-shirts, amply showcasing the famous Edwards physique. So yes, her mind had done a little wandering when he’d mentioned having a shower.

‘When I saw you again this morning,’ his quietly spoken words broke through her smutty thoughts, ‘it’s fair to say I’d harboured hopes that you’d let me show you my … style.’

‘Oh?’ she squawked, totally blindsided, which made him laugh.

‘Not so quick with the chat now, I see.’

‘I, umm, the hotel is just ahead.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw the laughter on his face at her glaring change of subject, but she ignored it. Just like she’d have to ignore his comment. He’s a job, Parker. Get that into your damn head. ‘I took your bags up earlier when I checked you in.’ That was better. Nice and professional. ‘You should have everything you need.’

‘Thanks.’

She didn’t dare look or speak to him again, so it was in silence that she parked the Jeep and escorted him up to his private floor.

After doing another cursory check of his room – she’d done a proper check earlier when she’d dropped his things – she waved him in. ‘Mark will be here in a few minutes to introduce himself. He just needs to ask you a few questions and we’ll be out of your hair. But if you want to go out—’

‘Call you. I know the drill.’ He slipped off his jacket and laid it neatly over the back of the sofa before undoing the cuffs of his shirt and rolling them up. It was almost surreal watching him. As if she had a front-row spot at a 3D film. She’d never met an actor so captivating in the flesh.

‘What sort of questions?’ His voice brought her out of her daydream. She must have looked blank because he added, ‘You said Mark needed to ask a few questions?’

‘Yes, just to see if you have any ideas about who could be behind the stalking.’ As she spoke, Zac moved to stand behind the sofa, his hands resting on the back. His eyes fixed on a spot over her left shoulder.

‘If I did, don’t you think I’d have mentioned it to Jerry Collier earlier?’

Kat couldn’t explain why she thought it, but her gut said he was hiding something from her. ‘Any smart, sensible guy would have done so, yes.’

Now she had his full attention. And to give him his due, the gaze that locked with hers didn’t waver. Then again, he was an actor. ‘As I’m both sensible and smart, we can assume I’m as much in the dark about who’s doing this to me as you are. So, what questions does Mark want answers to?’

‘Whether you can remember anyone who might have given you cause to think they could turn psycho on you. In particular any women you’ve met and maybe had a drink with. Dated.’ She paused. ‘Have slept with or are sleeping with.’

He let out a muted oath before turning towards the window, leaving her with a view of his ramrod straight back.

Bugger. She should have waited for Mark. Clearly she had the tact of a charging rhino. ‘Look, I know this is difficult, but any information you can provide us will help the police track this person down.’

‘How far back do I need to go?’

She could understand his annoyance. This time yesterday he’d been an actor whose movements were followed by the press. Now he was an actor followed by the press, a stalker and a bodyguard. He must feel his privacy had been violated enough already today.

Yet her sympathy was tempered by the belief he wasn’t being totally open with her. ‘The notes started a few months ago, so I would say six months is enough. For now.’ She could feel the tension pinging across the room. ‘If it helps, you can talk to Mark alone. I don’t need to know.’

Finally, he turned, slipping his hands into his pockets. ‘You think discussing my love life with a complete stranger will help?’ His eloquent eyes looked so wounded, and guilt pricked.

‘I don’t know.’

With a sigh, he went to sit on the sofa. ‘Can we just get it over with now?’

‘Sure. Whatever you want.’

‘I want for this to be over.’ He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. ‘Sorry. I just …’ He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Tomorrow will be easier. And the day after that, if they’ve not caught Lipstick yet, you probably won’t even notice I’m around.’

His eyes met and held hers. ‘I very much doubt that.’

The dip in his voice, coupled with the way his gaze didn’t leave hers, sent her pulse skittering. Crap, was he flirting with her again? Or did he mean he couldn’t fail to notice her because she was such a pain in the arse intrusion on his life?

It had to be the latter. She needed it to be. ‘So, those names.’

‘Yes.’ With another deep expulsion of breath, he took out his phone and began to scroll, presumably through his contacts. ‘I dated Chloe Patterson for a while. It ended six months ago. Amicably, I thought.’ He glanced briefly at her. ‘I’ll ping the contact through to you.’

‘Thanks.’ God, this was stickier than a vat of treacle. ‘Any others?’

‘There have been a couple of ladies I’ve … had a drink with since.’ She felt her phone beep twice. ‘I’ve sent you the contacts.’ He paused, eyes on his phone and not on her. ‘There was one other, Hannah, but I don’t have her number. I met her at a party. She was waitressing. My manager will have the details of it if you feel the need to track her down.’

Oh boy, the tacky one-night stand. She didn’t know who was more embarrassed, him for having to admit to it, or her for having to ask about it. ‘Anyone you’re seeing currently?’

He gave her a hard stare. ‘No.’

His annoyance was palpable. Then again, she had just asked him if he was sleeping with someone, despite knowing he’d been flirting with her. ‘Have you any reason to think someone you know might be the stalker?’

‘For Christ’s sake.’ He leapt to his feet. ‘I don’t treat women like shit.’

It was the first time she’d heard him sound anything other than polite. ‘I’m not suggesting you do.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ she asserted. ‘I’m trying to do my job. The police will want to know, and we figured you’d find it easier discussing it now, than at the police station.’

Once again, he ran a hand through his hair, walking a few strides away before turning. ‘Sorry. It’s just this is very … awkward.’

‘Tell me about it,’ she said on a sigh. ‘It’s why I’d planned to leave it to Mark to handle.’

‘Oh?’ Some of the tension on his face eased. ‘I didn’t have you down as a coward.’

‘I’m not, but I am a mouthy ex-soldier. Delicacy and diplomacy don’t come naturally.’

‘And they do to Mark?’

The thought made her laugh. ‘You’ve got me there. He’s also ex-army and worse than I am.’ Zac had been forced to admit things he hadn’t wanted to. Perhaps it was time she did the same. ‘Look, the truth is, for you and me to work, we need to develop a rapport. I didn’t want to risk ruining any hope of that by asking these questions.’

The sharp buzz of the doorbell interrupted any answer he may have planned. ‘That’ll be Mark.’ She walked to the door and as she checked through the peep hole, Zac spoke again.

‘For the record. There’s already a rapport. And this hasn’t dented it.’

Relief and something else, something unwanted, fluttered through her as she opened the door to let her boss in.

The guy who strode purposefully into the room was tall and wide and … well, the phrase ‘built like a brick shithouse’ could have been coined for him. Her former CO when they were in the army, Mark had helped her through one of the toughest times in her life, so she knew, first hand, he was far less scary than he appeared. Of course, it also meant he’d seen her at her worst, which was proving to be a tough obstacle to overcome.

In four strides, he crossed the room towards Zac. ‘Mark Evans.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Good to meet you.’

‘Zac Edwards. And nothing personal, but I’d rather not be meeting you.’

Mark gave Zac a brief smile. ‘Not the first time I’ve heard that.’ He motioned towards the sofa and armchair. ‘Shall we sit?’

Kat cleared her throat. ‘I’ll leave you both to it. Mark, I’ve got the information we needed.’ His eyes flared with surprise, but she ignored his unspoken question and turned to Zac. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Message me with the time you want picking up, or if you need to go out for any reason.’

‘Sure. And Kat,’ those eyes met hers. ‘Thanks.’

What on earth was he thanking her for – poking round his house, hounding him for details of his sex life? Still, she smiled, relieved there was no hard feeling. ‘No problem.’ He made a movement to stand – no doubt to walk her to the door, because he seemed to have impeccable manners – so she signalled for him stay where he was. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.’

Though his body settled back into the sofa, she felt his eyes remain on her as she opened the door.

She also felt a tingle resonate throughout her body as it reacted to his gaze.

Chapter 6

It was Friday morning. Four days since Zac had met Kat in the lift, decided he wanted to ask her out, then found out she was going to be his bodyguard. Four days of not driving his own car. Of living in a hotel. Of being quizzed about his friends, his acquaintances. His sex life.

Four evenings spent stuck in his hotel room feeling frustrated because he couldn’t go for a run, or down to the bar for a drink. Not without disturbing Kat.

And he still didn’t know who was stalking him, so he still didn’t know how much danger he was really in.

‘I’m out tonight,’ he reminded Kat as they walked into the underground car park together.

‘Umm.’ Her eyes scanned the concrete underbelly of the hotel, and Zac belatedly realised it was the wrong time to ask her anything. He was slowly learning she could switch off and on at will, and anywhere in the open, like a car park, she was as focused as a laser beam. It was reassuring, though he’d be far more reassured when they told him who the stalker actually was.

Or would he? A cold shiver ran down his spine as his thoughts hurtled towards that worse-case scenario, before he yanked them back.

Once they were in the Jeep and heading down the road, Kat finally responded to his earlier comment. ‘It’ll be Mark on duty tonight.’

A surprising lump of disappointment settled in his gut. ‘Hot date?’

Her laughter vibrated around the Jeep; it was that facet of her that he was starting to appreciate. Her vibrancy, her zest for life. ‘Not unless you count going to the cinema with my fourteen-year-old niece as a date.’

‘Is this the same niece who lives with you?’

She flicked him a glance. ‘So you do listen to some of the stuff I say.’

He listened to everything, every word, because the banter with Kat, the repartee during their car journeys, was fast becoming the highlight of his day. ‘You must be going to the cinema with Debs then, she of the one-syllable answers.’

She pursed her lips and shrugged, clearly doing an impression of a typical teenager. ‘Sure.’

‘I can see why you chose the cinema.’

‘Exactly. The thing is, when she’s not being monosyllabic, she’s actually funny, sassy and off the scale smart. I know I’m biased, but she’s the most amazing young person, she really is.’ Pride and affection wound through her voice. ‘She just needs more confidence. Mandy, my sister, her mum, she’s tried hard but between work and battling her addictions, it’s been tough.’

‘And the dad?’

Kat snorted. ‘That waste of space didn’t hang around when he found out Mandy was pregnant. Oh no. He disappeared faster than a … damn it, I can’t think of anything witty.’

‘England’s chances of regaining the Ashes?’

She gave him a wide-eyed look. ‘Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re a cricket fan.’ Before he could reply, she was answering her own question. ‘Of course you are. The posh background.’ She waved down at his tailored trousers. ‘The natty dressing. The way you do everything slowly, patiently, never in a rush. You’re bound to love cricket.’

‘Fast isn’t always better.’

She rolled her eyes at his double entendre. ‘Only a cricket lover would say that. Fast is exciting, thrilling. Adrenalin pumping. Lewis Hamilton, sweeping through Maggots, into Becketts and then haring onto the Hangar Straight. That’s sport. Not five days of men standing around in a field wearing white trousers.’

‘You’ve made your point,’ he said dryly, trying not to feel too entertained. His journeys to the studio were going to be infinitely duller when he no longer needed a bodyguard. ‘Have you always lived with your sister?’

‘I’ve always shared a house with her, yes. When I was in the army I was away a lot so she and Debs would get used to me not being there, and then have to readjust.’ Her eyes flicked between the rear-view mirror and the road ahead. ‘It’s not always been plain sailing, but we’re a unit. Having shitty parents brought us closer together probably, so we have something to thank them for, at least. What about you? Have you any siblings?’

He forced himself not to react. Giving himself a moment, he picked up three Starburst wrappers and screwed them into a ball. ‘A brother and a sister, yes. We’re not close.’ Because he didn’t want to give her any chance to question him further, he changed the subject onto something he did want to talk about. ‘You laughed when I asked if you had a hot date. Are you dating anyone?’

For the first time since he’d known her, Kat didn’t reply straight away. She’d openly spoken about her family, her job, her life as a soldier. Not, it seems, about her love life. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be learning your lines?’

He looked down at his forgotten script. Funny how his rule of reading through ten times had slipped since she’d started driving him to the studio. ‘It’s a fair question,’ he reminded her. ‘You grilled me on my romantic history.’ Even now, he cringed at the memory of that conversation. He wasn’t a guy who usually went for the quick and easy. He preferred to do the choosing and the chasing, because that way he knew if he was successful, he was wanted for himself, and not the fame that came with him. He’d succumbed to the overtures of the bold, busty Hannah, though. And the embarrassment, the shame of that sleazy encounter had burned through him when he’d spoken to Kat about it. He’d not even dared to look at her, fearing what he’d see on her face. Womanising actor who deserved to be stalked.

‘No,’ Kat said heavily. ‘I’m not dating anyone.’

‘Why not?’

Suddenly the car swerved as Kat pulled out to overtake the slow van in front of them.

‘Whoa.’ He grabbed onto the handle above the door to steady himself.

She glanced sideways. ‘You’re looking a little pale over there.’

‘I’m trying to persuade my breakfast to remain in my stomach.’ When he was certain there were no more overtaking manoeuvres ahead, he began to breathe again. ‘Rather an extreme way to avoid the question.’

‘I’m not avoiding anything. Just making sure nobody is following us.’

‘And now we’ve ascertained there is no evil plot to kidnap me … Why aren’t you dating anyone?’

‘Because nobody has asked.’

He angled his head to look at her and found she was staring ahead, an amused expression on her face. ‘And if someone were to ask?’

‘It would depend on the someone.’

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, If that someone was me, but it was too obvious. He’d already made his attraction clear, and she’d not taken the bait. Pushing any further would embarrass them both. Worse, if she knocked him back, it would make their current situation intolerable.

‘Well I hope, when you find the someone to say yes to, he shares your love of …’ he indicated towards the inevitable carnage in the centre console of the Jeep. ‘Mess.’

She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. ‘Being messy is right up there on my list of attributes for the perfect man.’

He decided not to ask what the other attributes were. No doubt they included loving motorsport, not being an uptight, cagey bastard, and not being in the public eye.

***

Kat glanced at her watch, and then at Debs who was sat on her bed, fingers flying over her phone.

‘You realise the film started five minutes ago.’

Her niece’s eyes didn’t stray from the screen. ‘You said that already.’

‘No, five minutes ago I said the film was about to start. You said to give you two minutes.’

‘Oh my God, just chill.’

Kat leant against the wall. ‘I don’t mind being late. It’s my default position. But I’m not going to pay full price to see half a film, so if you’d rather stay here messaging your friends, that’s cool with me. I’ll go and get myself a beer.’

Debs huffed but stood up, squeezing her phone into the pocket of a pair of jeans so tight, Kat wondered how she could breathe. ‘Whatever. Let’s go.’

Her niece was silent on the way there, which wasn’t especially unusual, though the edge of tension Kat could see around her mouth, was. ‘Are you okay, Munchkin?’ she asked once they’d parked and were walking towards the huge cinema complex.

‘Sure.’ Debs heaved in a shuddery breath. ‘And stop with the stupid name. I’m not six anymore.’

More’s the pity. Six-year-old Debs had been cute as a button. Teenage Debs was a stroppy, hormonal disaster. ‘Who were you messaging?’

‘Mind your own business.’

If Kat didn’t know her niece so well, hadn’t lived with her for all of her fourteen years, she might have left it there. ‘Was it your mum?’

Debs glared at her. ‘So what if it was? I’m allowed to message my own mum, aren’t I?’

Kat’s heart melted at the vulnerability behind Debs’s stubborn stance. ‘You are. And you’re also allowed to be angry with her. And to tell me about that anger, because much as I love your mum, I feel it too.’ Debs didn’t reply, just stared ahead with a sullen expression on her face. ‘But once you’ve got the anger out of your system, you also need to understand that your mum doesn’t want to be away from you. She loves you. The fact that she’s prepared to put herself through this shows you how much, because she wants to change. She wants to be the mum you deserve.’

‘You said this already.’

‘I know I did. I also said when she does come home, she’ll be fitter and stronger than she’s been for a long time so it will have been worth it. I figured it was a good time to remind you.’

‘Fine.’

A lump shot into the back of Kat’s throat as she saw a single tear creep down her niece’s cheek. ‘Hey, come here.’ Dragging Debs into her arms, she soothed a hand up and down her back. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

‘You said that last time,’ Debs mumbled into her neck. ‘And the time before that.’

Damn, so she had. ‘Okay, you’ve got me. Those times I was hoping she’d be okay. This time I know she will be.’

Debs sniffed, finally pulling away. ‘How?’

Kat gazed directly into her niece’s dark-brown eyes. Eyes like hers, and like Mandy’s. ‘Before, she went because we asked her to. This time she asked to go. She wants to get better.’

The sad look Debs gave her tore at her heart. ‘I can’t stand it, the way she gets when she drinks.’

Kat squeezed her hand. ‘I know. She doesn’t mean to upset you. When she’s sober, she’s mortified that she has. But she was unlucky enough to get our father’s genes and it’s hard for her. Really hard, Debs. You have to remember that. She’s going to need all our support to get through it.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Debs sucked in a breath, wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jumper, and looked around her.

‘It’s okay, nobody’s looking.’

‘You don’t know that.’

Kat smiled. ‘’Course I do. It’s my job to assess the surroundings.’ She linked arms with Debs as they picked up the pace towards the cinema. ‘Come on. At this rate, we really are going to only see half a film.’

‘It’s alright. It’s Thomas Sangster. He’s not like my favourite actor.’

‘Who is then?’

‘Dylan O’Brien. Zac Edwards is fit, but a bit old.’

Kat ground to a halt just before the cinema entrance. ‘Zac Edwards?’

‘Duh, yes. He’s fit.’

‘You mean he works out a lot.’

Debs rolled her eyes. ‘Fit as in hot. Good looking.’

Well, what do you know. Smiling to herself, Kat ushered Debs into the lobby and handed over her debit card. ‘Be a sweetie and collect the tickets from the machine. I just need to message someone about work.’

As Debs flounced off, Kat sent off a quick text to Zac.

Guess what? My niece thinks you’re fit.

She knew he was out having drinks with the crew, so she was shocked when she received an instant reply.

Guess what? I am fit.

Laughing, she fired another back at him.

Does your fit self, fancy doing me a favour?

Once again the reply was immediate.

Name it.

She’d only known him five days, yet he was offering to help before he even knew what she wanted. Was he for real? Because she didn’t want to think about how much that meant to her, she deflected.

Lend me the Aston to go rally cross racing?

His reply had her shaking her head in amusement.

Do I have to be in it too?

He was kind, she realised. Beneath the glossy layers of celebrity was a funny, kind man.

That was a joke. The favour I really want is for you to phone my niece and say hello.

She pinged him the phone number just as Debs walked back to her with the tickets.

‘Here.’ As she thrust the tickets at Kat, miraculously, her niece’s mobile started to buzz.

‘You’d better get that.’

Debs frowned, digging out her phone. ‘It’s an unknown number.’

‘It’s okay, I’m here. Put it onto me if you think it’s dodgy.’

Debs pressed answer. ‘Hello.’

Kat couldn’t hear the voice on the other end. She could only watch the changing expressions on her niece’s face – confusion, disbelief, wonder – and hear her responses. ‘No way?’ Pause. ‘Is this a joke?’ Debs, eyes wide, stared over at Kat. ‘She never said.’ Pause. ‘I’ll tell her. My mates will go mental. And my drama teacher. She’s always banging on about taking us there but never has.’ Pause. ‘For real? Gucci.’ Laughter. ‘Yeah. Bye.’

Kat smiled to herself as saw her niece’s hands tremble as she pushed her phone back in her pocket. ‘Everything okay?’

‘OMG, Kat. Why didn’t you tell me? Zac fucking Edwards.’

‘Language.’

Debs giggled, jumping up and down like a big kid. ‘I mean, I’ve just been talking to Zac Edwards.’

‘What did you have to tell me?’

‘What? Oh, he said you have to bring me down to the studio one day. He’ll show me around. And I can bring my school mates, if I want.’ She put a hand to her head, clearly still in shock. ‘I mean, I can’t believe this, he said he’s looking forward to meeting me.’

Kat could just imagine it. The smooth language. Those impeccable manners. ‘Did he know what Gucci meant?’

Debs snorted, her whole face looking so much more alive than it had five minutes ago. ‘He said something like “Can I presume that’s a positive?”’ She giggled. ‘He’s dead posh, isn’t he?’

‘He certainly is.’ Kat glanced at her watch in horror. ‘And we’re dead late for this blasted film now.’

Debs shrugged. ‘It’s Gucci.’

And then she laughed, and while Kat knew this wasn’t over, that Debs would have some difficult times ahead, at least now, tonight, she was reassured to see her niece with a smile on her face.

Chapter 7

Zac was, unusually for him, running late. Something his bodyguard had been happy to point out when she’d knocked on his hotel room five minutes ago to find him not yet ready. His main bodyguard, he should add, not the tall, silent guy he’d had to put up with Friday night, once at the weekend, and just now on his way back from the studio.

‘Mark said you had another note today, delivered to the studio.’ Kat’s voice echoed through to his bedroom where he was currently dragging a shirt off a hanger.

‘Yes.’ Fear crashed down his spine as he recalled the note. I came to your place to see you. They told me you’d left. Are you avoiding me? It wasn’t so much the words, as the implication. Someone was watching him.

Who? And more importantly, why?

‘Have you had any more thoughts about who it might be?’

His hands stilled, and as his heart began to thump, Zac was grateful for the wall that separated him from Kat. ‘Why do you ask?’ Damn, that wasn’t the right answer. ‘I’d hardly keep it to myself if I had, would I?’

‘Only if you’re a total idiot.’

She’d said something similar before, yet Zac refused to believe he was an idiot. He was an actor trying to protect an image he wasn’t ready to see destroyed on a wild, highly improbable, obsessively anxious hunch.

‘How’s it going with Mark?’ Kat’s voice cut through his paranoid thoughts. ‘I bet you two were chatting away on the journey here.’

Shrugging on the shirt, he walked out to the sitting area where she was waiting, feet up on the footstool, thumbing through the newspaper the hotel conveniently placed outside his room every morning. ‘You know we weren’t.’

She smirked, though the expression slid from her face as her eyes settled on him. Or more precisely, on the part of his chest revealed by the shirt he hadn’t buttoned up yet. He was vain enough to know he looked good without his shirt on – hell, he spent enough hours in the gym working at it. Even more hours recently, since it was one of the few things he could do, without having to call for an escort.

‘Eyes on my face,’ he said mildly.

Of course, Kat being Kat, wasn’t embarrassed to be caught out. ‘Don’t fret, Mr I-can’t-act-a-scene-without-taking-my-shirt-off. I’ve seen it all before.’

‘But not in the flesh.’ He slowly – and yes, deliberately – began to do up the buttons.

‘Not yours, maybe, but I’ve seen plenty of others.’ When his brows shot up to his hairline, she groaned. ‘I was in the army, remember? I’ve seen enough male chests to last me a lifetime.’ As if to prove she was totally unfazed, she glanced back down at the newspaper. ‘So, back to my original question. How are you and Mark getting on?’

Disappointment curled inside him. Ridiculous. Did it matter that she wasn’t interested in him? Wasn’t it better this way? He had enough going on in his life right now without further complicating things. ‘Mark is fine. We’re getting on … fine.’ All of it true. The big guy was exactly how he’d imagined a bodyguard would be. Strong and silent.

Kat burst out laughing. ‘Come on, admit it, you miss my chat when I’m not around.’

He was acutely aware he didn’t just miss her chat. He missed her. ‘Mark is like me. He understands the need for quiet reflection.’ Before she could call him on his bullshit, Zac headed back into the bedroom to retrieve his jacket and tie. When he came back out, she was on her feet.

‘Ready?’

He threaded his tie as he walked towards her. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

She looked at him askance. ‘You’re not looking forward to the launch of your very own brand of fragrance?’

He huffed out a breath. ‘It’s not mine. I’m merely the face behind the name.’ On the back of the success of The Good Guy? the perfume company had done a deal with the film company, and tonight was the big promotional shindig for the launch of a male fragrance of the same name.

‘Ah, but what a face.’

Her smile was teasing but it was hard to smile back. Being idolised for how he looked was an uncomfortable fit. Much like a cheap suit.

‘You need to lighten up by the time we get there,’ she told him once they were in the car. ‘Or they’ll have to change the name to The Morose Guy.’

‘Sorry.’ He settled back into the passenger seat – a hired Range Rover – and wondered at how quickly he’d become used to being driven around. Or was it Kat he’d become accustomed to? ‘Where were you this afternoon?’

‘So you did miss me.’ He saw the moment she became aware that her statement was too personal, and clamped her mouth shut.

‘I missed your driving,’ he corrected, though if he’d thought the comment would have been well received, he might have agreed with her statement. ‘Had you driven me back, I doubt I would be running late.’

‘Ah, good spot. Debs had a parent–teacher meeting at the school, so I agreed to do tonight if Mark covered me for that.’

‘Gucci.’

Kat burst out laughing. ‘You have no clue what that means, do you?’

He smiled. ‘None whatsoever.’

‘She’s still talking about the day she spoke to you. You’re like some sort of superhero in her eyes now.’

‘Perish the thought.’ He turned his head to stare out of the side window, not wanting Kat to read his thoughts. To see how insecure he was, beneath the polish. Being acclaimed for his acting was one thing; he craved it. The rest, the attention that came from people’s impression of who he was from the parts he played, or from his appearance. That he had a hard time dealing with.

They didn’t know him. Very few people did, and while that was deliberate, it was also, at times, very lonely.

***

It was manic. Sitting in the Range Rover, Kat eyed up the crowds with mounting apprehension. The people she’d previously provided protection to had attracted nowhere near this interest. People lined either side of a narrow, cordoned-off area leading to the entrance of The Old Billiard Room – the venue for the fragrance launch. Ninety-nine percent of the waiting throng were female, many bearing placards, some of which were quite clever – Good Guy, be My Guy; some straightforward – I love you Zac; and a few downright dirty – Zac, shag me, being the politest.

She brought the Range Rover to a halt directly outside and glanced at her passenger. He’d been very quiet since she’d mentioned Debs and she wondered if it was because he wanted to back out on his offer to show her round the studios – an offer Kat had no intention of holding him to – or if there was something else going on inside that handsome head of his.

‘Ready?’

Almost on cue, as if a director had said, ‘Action’, Zac sat up straight and gave her a flash of that sexy smirk. ‘Are you?’

She eyed the clamouring crowd and did a bit of spine straightening of her own. ‘Of course.’

‘Then let’s go and meet the fans.’

She jumped down from the car and, giving the area another sweeping look, went to open his door.

Immediately flashlights lit up the dusky evening, and Kat froze, her heart pounding. Shit, no, this wasn’t going to happen. She was not about to have a panic attack. The flashbulbs were from paparazzi cameras. There was no gunfire, no lurking terrorists.

As she forced herself to be calm, she reflected on how stupid it was that she hadn’t prepared herself for this … and that she even needed to. It had been over three years since she’d left the army. That part of her life was done, she’d moved on.

‘Kat?’ Zac gave her a quizzical glance.

She nodded, focusing on breathing, in and out, slow and steady.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Sure.’ There, she’d found her voice. And now her heart rate was starting to come under control. ‘Just hadn’t realised you were so popular.’ As if to prove her point, the fans started to shout his name. ‘Go on then, don’t keep them waiting.’

Pulling herself together, Kat scanned the crowd. She couldn’t afford to get distracted. Zac’s life might depend on her.

She swallowed down another bubble of panic. She’d told Mark she was ready for this. Damn it, she was ready.

While Zac worked the fans, a handshake here, a selfie there, Kat kept her eyes trained on the faces.

‘Hey, Edwards, what’s this new aftershave like?’ A middle-aged guy pushed his way to the front. ‘Will it make the missus go wild for me?’

Zac gave the man his small, polished smile. ‘Why not try it and find out?’

‘Not at those rip-off prices. You must get some freebies. How about throwing a bottle my way? Keep her happy?’

Okay, she didn’t like how close he was getting. ‘Back away, sir.’

At just under six foot, the mouthy guy looked down at her. ‘And who are you? No, wait, don’t tell me. You’re the bleeding bodyguard.’ He started to laugh. ‘Bloody hell, that’s priceless.’ He spun round to address the crowd behind him. ‘Look here, ladies. The big action hero you’re all drooling over is such a wimp he needs a woman to protect him.’

Beside her, Zac went rigid, but she admired his restraint when he merely turned away to shake the hand of a fan on the other side.

That’s when the jerk doing the taunting decided he didn’t like being ignored. ‘Oi, I’m talking to you.’ Ducking under the rope, he made towards Zac.

Kat acted on pure instinct. In two seconds, she had the guy face down on the pavement, pulling on his right hand as she edged it higher up his back. ‘Let me go, you bitch.’

‘Ask me nicely and I might.’ Adrenalin surging through her, she tugged harder on his arm.

‘Fucking hell, that hurts.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise a mere woman could hurt a big strong guy like you.’

A moment later the event security staff came running over and Kat gladly handed him over. ‘He’s all yours.’

Suddenly a hand gripped her arm and she turned to find Zac staring at her, his eyes full of concern. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Of course.’ Her lip curled in disgust as she watched the man being escorted away.

‘Christ, Kat.’

He looked shocked, rattled. Exactly how she’d felt when she’d first faced the crowd. ‘Let’s get you inside, before any other tossers decide they want to end up face down on the pavement.’

Being the star he was, Zac immediately plastered a smile on his face and waved at the crowds on either side as she escorted him inside the building. Once there, he was swamped by the organisers and Kat hung back, watching from a distance as he was introduced to people, photographed, and generally treated like visiting royalty. Every now and again his eyes would land on hers and she wondered what he was thinking.

In taking down the troublemaker, had she reassured Zac she was capable of keeping him safe?

Or instead was he remembering her wobble at the beginning, and the snide comments from the mouthy guy. Were they reinforcing his concerns about having her as his bodyguard at all?

***

Two hours later, Kat escorted Zac back to the Range Rover. He looked tired, so she left him to his thoughts as she drove him back to the hotel and then walked with him into the lift.

When he still didn’t say anything after she’d done a sweep of his room and signalled it was okay for him to come in, she decided it was time to hit the issue head on.

‘The guy hurling all that abuse on the pavement was a moron.’

Zac shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. ‘Agreed.’

‘So you can ignore everything he said. Like having a female bodyguard makes you look like a wimp.’

‘What?’ A mixture of shock and confusion spread across his face. ‘You think that bothered me?’

Crap, if it wasn’t that … Kat felt a ball of unease settle in her stomach. ‘Something did, because you’ve not said a word all the way here.’ He shook his head, exhaling heavily as he threw his jacket onto the sofa. ‘And you always hang your jacket up.’

‘Jesus.’ He tugged a hand through his hair before heading towards the minibar. ‘Do you want a drink? Someone told me it was one of the perks of living in a hotel.’

She could have murdered one, but she had to shake her head. ‘No thanks. I’m on duty.’

‘I’m here, safe and sound in my hotel room. You’re off the clock.’

‘I’m also driving. But I’ll take a Coke, if there is one.’

He reached inside and drew out a miniature of whisky and a small Coke, pouring hers into a glass and handing it to her before pouring his own. ‘Cheers.’ He perched on the arm of the sofa and gave her a small, tight smile. ‘Here’s to my bodyguard, keeping me safe.’

He was being ironic. Damn it, he was going to pull her up on her mini panic attack. Feeling her hands start to tremble, Kat quickly put down her drink. ‘Just say what you want to say.’

‘I just did.’ He raised his glass towards her. ‘A toast to my bodyguard.’

‘How many drinks have you already had?’

He raised a brow, looking offended. ‘You think I’m drunk?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ she muttered, taking a big swig of the Coke. ‘But if you’re going to talk in riddles, it’s time for me to leave.’

He sipped at his whisky, his eyes on her, the look brooding and unnervingly intense. ‘He could have had a knife. Or a gun.’

The bottom fell out of her stomach. Any minute now, he was going to tell he wanted her replaced. Slowly she turned. ‘I realise that. And I can imagine how terrifying it must be, knowing someone might want to hurt you.’

‘You think that’s what spooked me out there?’ Suddenly he jumped to his feet and stalked over, putting his hands on her shoulders. When he looked down at her there was an urgency, a roughness to his expression she’d not seen before. ‘Fuck, Kat, he could have hurt you.’

Her heart lurched at the emotion swirling in his eyes. ‘He couldn’t. He didn’t. I’m good at what I do.’ When I’m not distracted. Kat shoved the unhelpful, yet grimly accurate, thought away.

Zac huffed, glancing away for a moment, before settling those stunning eyes back on her. ‘I didn’t think about it before, but now it’s all I can think about.’ His hands shifted to curl around her upper arms and his gaze landed on her mouth. ‘I don’t want you putting yourself in danger to protect me.’

Inside her chest, her heart beat like a crazy thing. Was this all part of his ploy to get rid of her? Or was he worried about the thing he was hiding from them – she wasn’t daft, she knew there was something he wasn’t telling them. Was he worried that might put her at risk, too?

Or, God, the hooded eyes, the parted lips. Was he going to kiss her? Involuntarily, her own lips began to tingle in anticipation. It was wrong, so very wrong, yet part of her wanted it to happen. Wanted to feel that sensual mouth against hers.

This man with his fussy ways and careful words. Dry humour and kind actions. She was getting frighteningly attached to him.

Taking a step back, she forced her mind to focus back on what he’d said. ‘You want to swap bodyguards? Have Mark find you someone else?’ The thought stung.

‘The thought has crossed my mind.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t!’ With a hiss of frustration, he swirled round and smacked his hand against the opposite wall.

Always so measured, so in control, it was a shock to see this other side of him. ‘Zac?’

His back facing her, she watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. When he turned towards her again, he looked calmer.

‘Sorry. Seeing you in action today, it rattled me.’

‘What did?’ The way I froze, like a startled rabbit? Please don’t say it, please don’t—

‘The way you put yourself between me and that mouthy git.’

He hadn’t noticed her scared bunny impression. Relief flooded through her. ‘If it had been Mark grappling the jerk instead, would you still have been rattled?’

‘No.’

She huffed. ‘So it’s a gender issue.’

He laughed, but not in an amused way. More … baffled. ‘No, Kat, it’s not a gender issue. It’s a you issue. I like you. I don’t want you to come to any harm.’

Deep inside her chest she felt a squeeze. ‘Thank you, but I know what I’m doing.’

‘We don’t know who we’re up against though, do we? We don’t know what they’re capable of.’

He was worrying her again. ‘What are you saying?’

With a shake of his head he walked towards the door. ‘I’m saying I don’t want to be responsible for you being hurt.’ Hand on the handle, he glanced over at her. ‘I’m saying for both our sakes, I hope you’re right when you say you know what you’re doing. Goodnight, Kat.’

Her mind was a whirl of emotions as she rode back down in the lift. He’d hinted at it before, but now she knew. He liked her.

It shouldn’t matter, yet it did.

Did he like her enough to trust her with the information he was clearly hiding though, because she really, really needed him to do that. Only then would she know the true scale of the challenge she was facing and whether she was as ready as she’d promised Mark. Or as capable as she’d claimed to Zac.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.