Rocco Monroe was spotted leaving his home early this morning with a convoy of cars. Unfortunately, all were decoys and no one was able to get his exact location.

What are you hiding, Mr. Monroe? The world wants to know.

It was five in the morning and they were already on location. The first two weeks of filming were going to take place mostly in the Everglades, in a spot that had been scouted and made to look like a cocaine refinery in rural Colombia. Then they’d be taking off to Colombia for a few days to shoot some of the background scenes and a few key moments in the movie, and then they’d finish the movie on a set in LA.

For two hours, the makeup crew transformed Rocco into Gabriel Mendoza.

Rocco didn’t know his heritage because he didn’t know his parents. But he had that “look”: olive skin and inky black hair. It lent itself to playing ethnic roles, which was one of the reasons he’d been cast to play Mendoza. He hadn’t thought that the fact he was American would be such a big deal because physically, he looked the part. The little Spanish he knew, he’d learned merely from living in Miami and he’d worked with a dialogue coach to get his accent on point.

Funny how people had always asked him if he was Hispanic and he hadn’t really noticed why. Now, as they glued on some prosthetics to make him look like Mendoza, he could see finally see it.

The door to the trailer opened, and Annie stepped inside. “So? Anything I should be worried about?” he asked. She had left him thirty minutes earlier to inspect the set and get, as she put it, the “lay of the land.”

“Yes. We have crappy cell phone reception. I have a portable WiFi unit but it’s not working great out here.”

“I’m talking about safety, not your computer geekery.”

She stuck out her tongue. “My ability to know what is happening outside of this little tropical paradise NHN set up is paramount to your safety.” She sat down on a couch. “The good news is that we seem to be pretty hidden and NHN did a great job of keeping the location a secret. The decoys ICS set up this morning were brilliant.”

“Any other concerns?”

“Well, not so much a concern as an observation. First, you’re spooking me out right now. You don’t look at all like yourself.”

The makeup artist smiled. “Thanks, hon.”

“What’s the second observation?”

“I sort of expected things to be bigger.” She moved an arm around in sweeping circle.

“What? The trailer?”

“No, the set, the production. Everything.”

“Ow!” he yelped to the hairstylist.

“Sorry. Sorry. Don’t move so much,” she said, focused on whatever the hell was happening on his head.

“A lot of the big scenery scenes have already been filmed. There were thousands of extras when they filmed all the scenes showing the cocaine production and the things with Mendoza’s laborers. They’re trying to limit the people on set when I’m here since it’s been such a problem.”

“Yeah, I know, but still. I don’t know, I just expected something else, I guess. More grandeur, or something.” She sat back and crossed her legs.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Ms. Clad.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure when I get a gig with a real movie star, someone like Bradley Cooper, I’ll get to witness the real thing.”

“You’re going to pay for that little comment later.”

She laughed and sat back. “So, you have to do this every day?”

“Yep. Every day.”

“God, it’s creepy.”

“No more talking, I have to glue this on and finish a few things,” the makeup artist said.

He sat back and watched Annie from the mirror. They’d woken up tangled in each other. Turned out, Annie was a snuggler. Her head had rested on the crook of his shoulder, an arm over his chest, and a thigh over his legs. Also interesting was that he found that he liked it. Normally he slept sprawled out, taking over the entire bed. Always hot, he’d kick off the covers. This time her warmth felt good and he couldn’t get enough.

Another interesting fact, Annie was not a morning person. For all that she woke up earlier than fuck, she woke up moody and gave him the finger the three times he tried to talk to her. Once she’d showered, dressed, and had her shake, she was back to herself—prickly but not bitchy.

She was in full-on bodyguard mode now though. Fully concentrated when she arrived. No-nonsense, demanding, and assertive. The crew seemed both fascinated and terrified—much like he was. They hadn’t addressed their personal relationship with anyone. Hell, they hadn’t even defined it to themselves. But at this point, it felt rather silly keeping it a secret since there wasn’t any media around. And even though she was all business, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. They’d walked in holding hands, so the cat seemed to be out of the bag, but no one had questioned it and he wasn’t going to be the one to address it either. It was no one’s business.

She was reading the call schedule, making notes and typing into her phone. “Do you actually memorize the lines?” she asked, without looking up.

“Some of them,” he mumbled. “It would be really helpful if you went over lines with me later. I’ve been having to do them alone.”

“Okay. I guess I can do that.”

“Wow, you’re so amiable this morning, crazy.”

“Suck my dick, Monroe.” But she said it with a smile that melted his heart. The hairdresser and makeup artist both snorted.

“Mini Cooper. Blue. Stick shift.”

She laughed even harder this time. “Nope.”

A knock on the door startled everyone. Annie was on her feet with her Glock in her hands before the words from the knocker came out. “Five minutes!”

“Put that away, crazy,” Rocco said from the chair. “That’s one of the PAs.”

“Fuck.” She exhaled and reholstered her weapon. “This is going to be a long-ass week if these PAs do that shit often.”

He chuckled. “Poor PAs, I’m thinking they’re not going to make it to the end of the day.”

* * *

For the last few days, she’d seen Rocco walk around whispering lines. Sometimes he’d sit on the couch with the script talking out loud. Now, watching from a canvas director’s chair off to the side, as he spoke with an accent she hadn’t been expecting to one of his “generals,” she was genuinely impressed. The man was talented.

The way the words rolled off his tongue so easily and sensually was mesmerizing. But she needed to keep her eyes on her surroundings, not on the man throwing orders, wielding an automatic weapon, dressed from head to toe in an expensive suit and tie, looking out of place in the “jungles of Colombia” when his comrades were rattily dressed, full of mud and filth.

She also tried not to think about how those hands and that mouth had been on every single inch of her body last night. She’d woken up feeling so different this morning. There was an underlying ache all over her body and when she shifted a certain way. It wasn’t unpleasant, per se, it was different. And when his eyes found hers, which was often, her entire body came alive. It was as if they shared a secret—a naughty little secret. But she had to find a way to get her shit together. This was work, and it wasn’t an office job where when you missed a deadline, your boss became pissed. No, this was the kind of work where if you screwed up, people became dead.

Sitting up straighter, she looked away from Rocco and instead focused on the surroundings. Nothing unusual was happening, and where they were filming was so secluded, she didn’t think anyone would even know they were there. Joey had contracted some of the guys to come in the previous days to scope out the area and make sure everything was copacetic.

A black limo, caked with mud, slowed near where the rest of the vehicles were parked. On alert, Annie stood up, her hand on her back gripping the steel of her weapon as she watched carefully. Ben stepped out of the driver’s side and went around to open the door for Julia. Immediately Annie released her weapon and sat back down and to watch the out-of-place diva. As soon as her foot landed on the ground, her spiky heel sunk deep into the mud, causing her to screech and flail her hands around, saying something to a young woman who followed out of the car as well.

Was Ben laughing? It seemed like it. Normally, she’d reprimand him for being unprofessional, but in this case she couldn’t help but snicker at the other woman’s ridiculousness. Between the ease of her job out here in the middle of nowhere, and the trouble Julia would surely get into, today would be a very interesting, if not humorous, day.

* * *

“So, she’s really your bodyguard, huh?” Julia asked Rocco as they waited for the lighting people to set up for the new scene.

“Let’s just work, okay?”

“I guess that’s a yes, then.” She ran a long red fingernail down his arm. “I knew something was off. I didn’t think she was your type.”

He swatted her hand away. “You don’t know what is or is not my type. We’re here to work. That’s all.”

“You know how much PR we could get if you and I hooked up? The crowds would eat that up. Plus”—she stepped closer—“it would be so fun.”

He was starting to get upset. He looked over Julia’s shoulder and saw Annie quickly avert her eyes. How bad did it look? He didn’t want Annie to get the wrong impression. “No it wouldn’t. You’re with Lawrence. Have some fucking class.”

Julia was a straight up bitch. There were really no other words to describe her. She wasn’t always that way. When he’d met her ten years ago, she was fresh-faced, bright-eyed and ambitious. Just like he was. Except he always remembered where he came from and Julia must’ve forgotten since her feet were so far from the ground, she was flying high. And her spineless husband was so blind, Rocco actually felt bad for him.

He stomped away and was going to go to Annie to explain but she wasn’t there. “On set!” the PA called.

“Damn it,” he whispered to himself, looking quickly around before he was shuffled away.

The rest of the day went more or less the same, but Julia was more subdued after he’d quickly shut her down and Annie was back in the one of the directors’ chairs. His eyes would find her every time they had even a moment between takes. It was as if there was an invisible tether connecting them. The way she felt, smelled, tasted—it was intoxicating. That was the word to describe it. Intoxicating. She was a drug and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—stay away.

“Let’s try to make this the last take! Monroe, you with us?” Spelling hollered from the side.

“Yes, sorry,” he mumbled as he got into the mind-set to play a ruthless drug dealer.

Craft services set up lunch on a large picnic table while Annabelle and Ben were chatting off in a corner. It bothered him that she was so chatty with the other bodyguard. Yes, they were colleagues, but he was a selfish bastard and wanted her to give him all her attention. “Hey, Tiger, you gonna eat something?” he interrupted them.

“Yes. Be right there,” she said, all-business, and turned back around pointing to something at the edge of the surroundings.

“Good idea. We can take shifts . . .” Rocco didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he sat down at the long table.

“Well, they seem friendly,” Julia said, cutting an annoyingly small piece from a tomato. She was like a bird, everything she ate was small and precise. He remembered how much that had irked him when they’d briefly dated all those years ago. Funny how Annie had a weird eating habit, but it didn’t bother him. No, in fact, he wanted to take care of her, make sure she ate. With Julia, he couldn’t give a fuck, even back then. She wanted to eat lettuce all day—fine by him.

“That’s because they’re friends,” he answered, knowing full well what she was doing. Trying to poison him, plant a seed of doubt. And he wasn’t going to bite. He refused.

“I can’t believe we’re eating at a dreadful picnic table.” She ate while she complained. “This is absurd.”

He wasn’t going to engage in her childish antics, so he ignored her, looking back up at Ben and Annie.

Ben moved away toward the clearing they’d been talking about, and Annie walked toward the table. “Hey, want something to eat?” he asked as she sat next to him.

She reached forward and took a sandwich. “This is good. I’m starved.”

“You want me to have them set up a blender for you?”

She stopped mid-bite and turned her face to him. “You’re sweet, Monroe. But I’m good. Thank you, though.”

“No problem, crazy. Just let me know.” He kissed her cheek and then continued to eat the shrimp pasta he’d been served. When he looked up, Julia was looking at them with disdain, but he didn’t give a fuck, he just held her stare, daring her to say a single word.

“Ben and I are taking turns going around the perimeter,” Annie said to Julia, completely unconcerned that the woman was shooting daggers at her. “I’m uncomfortable with the lack of security and telephone reception. Just Ben and me to cover about seventy people . . . those aren’t good odds.”

“What are you trying to tell me? You’re my babysitter while Ben’s away?”

“No. I just thought you’d like to know where Ben was. You don’t have to be a raving bitch about it,” she replied completely matter-of-factly as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Julia put her hands on the table and leaned forward. “What did you just say to me?”

“Settle down.” Rocco waved at Julia, then teasingly elbowed Anabelle. “Babe, eat your sandwich.” He said it with a smirk. She gave him the finger without missing a beat.

And fuck him—he could spend a lifetime with her and never get bored.

The rest of the day became hectic when it seemed like it was going to rain, so everyone was on a frenzy to get a few key scenes done in order to stay on schedule. Julia continued her snarky attitude, but the woman could act. Once she was in character, she was Victoria Mendoza and Annie couldn’t see her as anything else but Victoria.

* * *

“Chevy Impala?” Rocco asked as they buckled up. It was already past eight at night and they were both beat.

She laughed. They were still playing this? “Nope. You’ll never guess.”

They’d been shooting for twelve straight hours, and when the mosquitoes became vampiric and Julia had a fit, Spelling wrapped up production for the day. “So what did you think, crazy?”

“Sometimes I’m crazy and sometimes I’m Tiger?”

“You’re always a little bit of both.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “But I like both. So, tell me, your first day on a set, what did you think?”

“I’m impressed. You really take on a different persona.”

“Ye of little faith,” he said as he exited the park and headed onto the highway.

“I had faith. I’ve seen your movies. But this is different and you know it. You’re like . . . another person. Physically, your voice, mannerisms, everything. Did you study him?”

He smiled and looked at her before looking back onto the road. “I Googled him. There’s some videos, mostly homemade things. He was very private.”

“Obviously. He was wanted by everyone. Murder, drug trafficking, you name it.”

“Yeah, but even in his circle, he was private. They say he was paranoid. He thought everyone was the enemy. The ransom on his head was huge—if anyone talked, they’d be rich. So he kept quiet, not trusting even his inner sanctum. It’s rumored he even had doubles.”

“You think he’s still alive?”

“Hard to know. But if he is, he’d be ninety-one. So if that’s what you’re thinking . . .”

“No. No!” She shook her head. “I’m pretty certain it’s not one particular individual but just a group of people who idolize him.”

“Well, it seems pretty quiet now.”

“You do remember a brick being tossed through your balcony window last week, right?”

“Yeah, but they were caught and they were just kids. Overzealous people trying to scare me.”

“And you’re not.”

He turned and winked. “I’ve got the best bodyguard in the world, how could I be?”

She rolled her eyes and tried to hide a smile but then she remembered Julia. Ugh!

The thought of Julia touching him was engraved into her brain and she couldn’t shake it off. She had to, though. The scenes called for more than just a little touch. At some point they’d have to kiss and she had to deal with it. Anyway, he wasn’t hers. Having sex once didn’t make him hers. She had no right to get possessive, even if every nerve ending in her body wanted her to yell at the top of her lungs, He’s mine! Stay away!

He was turning her into an immature brat and she hated herself for it. He was a thirty-seven-year-old man. She was an inexperienced twenty-seven-year-old woman, and the last thing Rocco would want was a ridiculous childish spectacle.

But as if he could read her mind, he said, seemingly absentmindedly, “you know, Julia’s just a co-star. There’s nothing between us.”

“You don’t need—”

The grip on his hand on the steering wheel tightened and he looked upset—angry, even. “I don’t need to what? Explain? You don’t care what happens with me and another woman?” She was glad they were almost home, she didn’t really want to have this conversation. She was having a hard time differentiating between Rocco the man and Rocco the actor.

“I do care,” she said letting go of his hand and undoing her ponytail and then redoing it.

“You do that when you’re nervous or upset.” She let go of her hair and glared at him even though it surprised her that he knew that. No one had ever called her out on that. Or maybe no one had ever noticed her nervous habit. “I’m not nervous or upset,” she lied.

They arrived at his house and he parked the car. “Stay here,” she said as the garage door closed behind them.

“We’re not done with this conversation.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Don’t move until I come back,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

Taking her weapon out of her back holster, she swept the two-car garage first. Then, she disarmed the alarm and stealthily walked inside and looked around. When she was sure everything was exactly the way she left it, she went back into the garage and signaled for him to come inside.

“I need a gun,” he said, surprising her.

“Excuse me?”

“A gun,” he repeated, gesturing to the one she still had in her hand. “I need one. What if someone crept up on me while I was in my car waiting for you?”

“First, you keep saying that this is all bullshit. That no one is out to get you. And second, I swept the garage, no one was going to creep up on you. And last, and most important, you don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

“Excuse me? Have you seen Death Kisses, or Exes and Ohs? I had guns for both of those movies, and those are just the most recent. My Western—”

She bent over in laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Rocco, those were movies. This is real. This can kill someone.”

“I know that,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I took real lessons with real guns, I’ll have you know. And for this movie, not only with a semi-automatic weapon but with an automatic weapon.”

“Really?” She was surprised to hear that. “Well, the next time you have some free time, I’ll take you by ICS. We have a full shooting range. If I feel you can handle yourself, I’ll see about getting you a weapon.”

She went to turn around but before she knew it, she was airborne and slung over his shoulder. She couldn’t help the yelp that came out of her lips. “Monroe! Put me down.”

He slapped her ass—hard. “Ow!”

“You’ll see about getting me a gun? You lost your mind, crazy? I’m a grown-ass man,” he said, not even sounding breathless, as he climbed up the steps with her on his shoulder.

“Put me down.”

“No. And since I have you in a position where you can’t complain, change the subject or run away, we’re going to talk a little about us.”

“Us? Rocco, you don’t have to explain—”

“Shut it, babe,” he said, slapping her ass again. “And while we’re at it, take out the ponytail.”

“What?”

“Take it out,” he demanded. “Or I’ll make your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

“Suck my dick, Monroe.”

SLAP.

“Ouch!”

“Again? I’ll give you to the count of three. One, two . . .”

For some reason, his hand on her ass didn’t feel unwelcome. It hurt, but since he was following it with a deep rub, his hand going a little closer to her pussy than it needed to be, she was actually more turned on than she’d ever imagined. “Two and a half . . .”

“Okay okay okay!” she yelled, and took off her ponytail, slinging the band across the room, her hair draping almost to his knees.

With an oomph, he tossed her on the bed, unexpectedly, and before she had a chance to recover, he straddled her thighs and held her hands together. If she really wanted to, she could fight him off, she knew hand-to-hand combat, had taken a number of martial arts classes, and was more fit than he’d given her credit for. But she didn’t want to fight him. She wanted to hear him out. But most of all, she didn’t want actor Rocco right now. She wanted real Rocco.

“Julia, she’s a bitch. The only reason she’s coming on to me is because she’s intimidated by you. She’s marking her territory, is all. Also, probably, trying to play the paparazzi, but none of it matters. I’m not interested in her.”

“Even if you’re not interested in her, you have to admit it would be a pretty easy lay. A good one, I’m sure. The kind you’re used to.”

“What the hell are you talking about, crazy?”

“Come on, Rocco. I’m . . .” She shook her head and closed her eyes, embarrassment consuming her. “Inexperienced. I’m also intense and I don’t really know how to do this casual thing you want to do. ”

“Casual? Who said anything about casual? And wasn’t last night good for you?”

“Yes!” She blurted out. “Of course it was! But what do I have to compare it to? You, on the other hand, it couldn’t have been good for you. I’m not under any girlish delusion that it was anything earth-shattering for you.”

His sly smile, with that damn dimple, and those sigh-inspiring crystal blue eyes shone down on her. “Aw, baby, was it earth-shattering for you?”

She growled, and with a thrust of her hip and quick flick of her wrist she flipped them over, but he grabbed onto her wrist and firmly pulled her down against him.

“I’m not going to let you go. Fight me all you want, fool yourself into thinking whatever you want. But last night was phenomenal for me. Earth-shattering. Even if you’d slept with a dozen men before me, you’d agree.” He moved up and kissed her lips. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. Hell, I don’t want you to look at another man. I want you. Just you. Annie, I can’t make you any promises, and we don’t know where this is going to go, but it’s not casual. I want you. Really want you. Here,” he pointed to her head. “Here,” he pointed to her heart. “And here too.” He cupped her pussy over her jeans. “Don’t question yourself. Where’s the crazy I like? The tough woman who kicks my ass and tells me what to do?”

“I’m right here. About to kick your ass if I see that woman put her claws on you again.”

“Awww . . . look at you, all jealous.” He chuckled and kissed her. “Come here and show me exactly how jealous you are.”

He let go of her hands and she sat up. Reaching up, he pulled her shirt up and over her head. “For someone who is supposed to be all innocent, you’re too sexy for your own good.” He cupped her black lace bra. She undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

“I never thought I’d like a man with a hairy chest.”

He looked down at his chest. “Hairy? It’s not hairy.”

“A little bit.” She ran her hands over the small amount of soft hair on his pecs. There really wasn’t much there, but there was something sexy about it. Rugged. Masculine.

“Baby, that’s because I’m a man not a boy.” He shifted so that she was on the bed, then stood up, grabbed her ankles, and dragged her to the edge.

With a flick of his fingers, her jeans were unbuttoned and he pulled them off. “God, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” His eyes roamed her body in a sensual caress that left her panting. “I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this question and this is not the best time to ask it, but before last night what had you done?”

She moved up, resting on her elbows. “Everything but sex.”

He groaned, not liking the answer.

“But if it means anything, last night was the best. I’d never come before from . . .”

“From what?”

“From oral,” she said shyly.

His big toothy smile was ridiculous.

“Men and their egos!” She dropped back down to her back. He kneeled down on the floor and pulled her panties down her legs. He did it slowly. Everything he did was with purpose and to turn her on further. Nothing was a throwaway move, a mistake, or a surprise. The man knew sex. He knew how to touch her, how to seduce her, how to have her writhing underneath him with just a look, a caress, a breath.

His lips went straight to her sex and he latched on so fast she almost fell off the bed. “You come once in my mouth,” he said, looking up at her, “then you’re going to suck me off, real good, but I’m burying myself deep inside you before I come.”

“Rocco . . .” she moaned, unable to think of anything except his fingers inside of her and his lips sucking her in a way that was making her crazed. She didn’t know whether to stop him or beg him to keep going. The pleasure and the pain from the intensity converged into a frenzy of sensation. “No. No. I can’t!” she yelled, but pushed his face deeper into her pussy. “Oh my God!”

He added a second finger and she was done for. He literally pulled the orgasm from somewhere deep inside of her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her thighs pressing together, and her heart coming out of her chest.

But he didn’t give her any reprieve. Not a second. Before she had a chance to come down from the high, he straddled her chest, held on to the headboard, and guided his cock into her mouth. “Suck it, baby.”

And she did. Happily.

She grabbed him with her hands and moved up and down while her tongue swirled the head over and over again, and the way he hardened further as she moved just turned her on more and more. She let go with one hand and brought it behind him and clawed his ass cheek and continued to bob her head.

“Fuuuuck.”

She sped up a little, feeling in control and so very confident that she could make him lose control. But quickly she realized how wrong she was. In bed, this man was always going to be in charge. He grabbed her wrists firmly and pulled them away from him.

“Enough.”

He slid down her body, reached for a condom from the bedside table, and before she’d had a chance to recover he was inside of her. This time he didn’t do it slowly, but this time she didn’t really need it slow. She was so wet and ready there was no pain or discomfort. A little soreness from the previous night, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“You okay?” he asked hoarsely before he began to move.

“Yes.”

Again, he grabbed the headboard and used it as it leverage to move in and out.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, and she complied. For a moment she felt insecure that he had to guide her, but there was no denying that he was enjoying this. He was getting as much pleasure as she was. So she shoved that feeling down and focused on the now. If he was willing to teach her, she’d be happy to learn.

She used all her strength to push up as he pushed down. “Holy fuck! What are you doing?” he groaned. “Get there, now. I’m going to come.”

Whatever she’d done he liked it, so she squeezed him harder using all her muscles to move, his neck muscle tensed, and a vein on his forehead throbbed as she felt herself lose all control and everything except the perfect moment right in front of her melted away.

He pulled away and rolled over to his back. “Jesus Christ!” he rubbed his face with his palm. “Are you okay?”

“Better than okay.”

“Be right back.” He hopped off the bed and a moment later he was back. “I was too rough.”

“It was fine. I was fine.”

“I can’t get enough of you. I know you think I’m just saying that, but I’m not.” He turned to her and gathered her in his arms. “From the moment I saw you, Annabelle. The instant I laid eyes on you, it was like a punch in the fucking gut.”

“Really? I mean, you’re Rocco Monroe. I’ve been watching you in movies for years. This unattainable man. This is crazy. You and me? These things just don’t happen.”

“But you’ve never treated me like Rocco Monroe. I think that’s what I like most about you. To you, I’m just a guy. A job. You’re not trying to impress me. You’re just being yourself.”

“I can be difficult.”

“I know.”

“And crude.”

“I know that too.”

“And hardheaded and bitchy and—”

“Nothing you’re going to say is going to turn me off, crazy. So let’s just roll with it, okay? Outside this room you can be all those things. But here in my bed in my arms, I want this Annie. The real one, the one who bares herself to me.”

She let out a deep breath. Could she do that? Could she put it all on the line for him?

She didn’t know the answer to those questions, but God, did she want to try.