Cole

 

I left.

The last time I’d felt this kind of panic—this overwhelming need to flee—was when I left home after nearly beating my old man to death.

I should know better.

I do know better.

You don’t get involved with a client.

I mean, sure, Levi, Sebastian, and Declan had all pretty much disregarded that basic rule of business, but I wasn’t weak like they were. I was here to do a job, and sleeping with Evangeline wasn’t part of that.

No matter how much my hard-on said otherwise.

It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more, nothing less. And it sure as hell wasn’t any big deal. She was not a big deal.

I’d been with a lot of women since getting out of the service, so it wasn’t like I was hard up for female company. Hell, I could walk out of this damn hotel and have someone soft and curvy ready to spend the night with me within an hour.

Unfortunately, I didn’t want that. Okay, not a big deal. I was a grown man, and I could deal with… whatever the hell this was. Fascination. Proximity. Lust. Whatever it was, I needed to just catch my breath and get my head back on straight and focus on the task at hand.

Stalker.

Threats.

Evangeline.

Shit. I could only distance myself from her so much. She was the reason I was here. She was the reason I was ready to pull my hair out of my damn head. It was fucking frustrating is what it was.

I paced up and down the hallway, checked the stairwell and the utility closets. I even managed to grab a few minutes talking to one of the staff walking around delivering room service to another suite. But I could only stay out here for so long. Eventually I was going to have to go back inside and face the music.

Not looking forward to that. I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say? “Um… hey, sorry I pounced. But you were kind of asking me to and I’m horny.” Yeah. Like that would go over well.

I was so screwed.

I started to walk back to the suite when a thought came to mind. I knew my motivation for kissing Evangeline, but… what was her deal? She was this posh, sophisticated actress. She was rich and pampered and had a history of dating the latest pretty boys in Hollywood. So what the hell was she doing begging me to kiss her?

Was I more research for her role?

Was she just slumming it?

Passing the time?

I didn’t like any of those options. But just the thought of them had the desired effect. I no longer wanted to go back inside and kiss her again. I wanted answers. I wanted to know what her deal was and to tell her to quit playing games.

And then I realized I was actually disappointed. For a brief moment back there, I actually let my guard down—again—and let myself think that I was… worthy. That I was someone a rich girl like Evangeline could actually want. But I was kidding myself. It was never gonna happen. I’d never be good enough.

I almost laughed out loud at the image that popped into my head—me at some movie premiere with Evangeline. Right. Like she’d ever want to be seen out in public with me. I could just hear the questions now: “Hey, Evangeline, last year you bought Oscar-nominee Brett Reynolds with you and now you’re with…? Where’d you two meet?” And then she’d cringe and probably act as if I wasn’t actually with her, just to avoid the truth. Because that wouldn’t be pretty. “Oh, Cole’s from the bad side of Baltimore. I think he almost killed his father—but he did kill his best friend! I thought it would be fun to make him play dress-up and maybe make him feel like he’s worthy for a night. Sweet, right?”

And we were back to being pissed.

I stormed back into the suite ready for battle, but the lights were almost all off and Evangeline’s bedroom door was shut.

Dammit.

It looked like our little talk would have to wait until morning.

***

“Excuse me,” she asked sleepily the next morning.

“You heard me,” I said with a snap in my voice. “What’s your deal?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Confusion was written all over her face, but I couldn’t be sure if she was genuinely confused or still half asleep.

I leaned in close to be certain I’d be heard. “What was that all about last night? Were you interested in just… slumming it for a bit to pass the time? Or were you hoping to add a little something to your resume to help with your current movie role?”

“You son of a—” She raised a hand, like she was thinking of slapping me, but I caught her wrist. Her eyes blazed with fire.

“Watch yourself, princess, and just answer the fucking question.”

For a long minute she simply glared at me. Then she yanked her wrist from my grasp and took a step back. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that.”

I snorted with disbelief. “I believe we’ve been over this quite a few times. I know you don’t like me. I know you think I’m not competent or worthy of being around you, so why don’t you save us all the wounded-little-girl act. Save it for a scene.”

“Bastard,” she spat before turning to get herself a cup of coffee.

“Sweetheart, I never pretended to be anything else. You can call me all the names you want if it makes you feel better. I don’t really give a shit. But take your games and play them with someone else. I’m not interested, and I certainly don’t have the time. I’m here to figure out who is making those threats to you.”

“Then maybe you should do that and quit mauling me,” she snapped before slamming a cabinet door shut.

“You’ll know when you’ve been mauled, Evalynn,” I said, just to be snarky. In an instant I knew the barb hit its mark. Her spine stiffened, and her eyes momentarily went wide. “Maybe you need to speak to a therapist,” I went on casually. “You know, maybe you’ve got that whole transference thing going on—you know, looking at me with hero worship or something because I’m here taking care of you.”

Evangeline slammed her mug down on the counter and took a step toward me. “You arrogant son of a bitch! There is nothing heroic about you. You haven’t done shit since you’ve been on this case. When we get back to the set, I’m calling Sebastian and asking for someone else to handle the case.” She stopped and took a breath. “You were right. I do think you’re incompetent. And on top of that, you’re nothing but a pain in the ass.”

And she stomped away.

I waited until I heard her door slam shut.

“Sticks and stones, princess. Sticks and stones.”

***

She was going to be the death of me.

We’d been back on set for two days, and Evangeline had taken every opportunity to fuck with every single plan I’d put into place. She never did call Sebastian. Obviously, she decided that doing everything humanly possible to make me look like a jackass was the better way to go.

She may not have had to worry about the threat of a stalker for much longer because I may strangle her myself.

Prison would totally be worth it.

Yesterday she convinced Malcolm’s guys to let her go shopping. Shopping! I was meeting with the head of the studio and the producers and directors, and apparently, she managed to convince Malcolm’s men that I gave clearance for her to go to the mall.

By the time I’d gotten out of the meeting and realized what had happened, I had pretty much reamed everyone within earshot for their incompetence. I damn near made Malcolm cry, and the last time I saw Matt and Janelle, they were hiding under a lunch table. When I had caught up with her and her entourage parading through Saks Fifth Avenue, she had about a dozen photographers around her along with fifty or so adoring fans. She had the nerve to look smug.

Back in the town car, I screamed until I thought I would burst a vessel and told her how her little stunt was beyond stupid. It was childish and reckless. She seemed contrite.

“I know I should have cleared it with you first,” she said, “but I had protection with me. I can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen. I refuse to give this… this person that much control over me.”

I actually believed her. Hell, I even sympathized with her.

Clearly she was a better actress than I gave her credit for. Why? Because twenty-four hours later and she was by the gate posing for more pictures and was only a step away from making it some sort of press conference.

Maybe I should offer to paint a bull’s-eye on her and save the stalker some time.

Clearly Malcolm’s guys didn’t understand the severity of what was going on. I would have thought after everything that happened yesterday that they’d get it.

But I was wrong.

She managed this little stunt by taking advantage of the five minutes I was off meeting with Malcolm and the director about tomorrow’s shoot. The guy guarding the door was fairly new to all this, and she managed to sweet-talk him into believing she held court with her fans every day for a few minutes.

Like she was the fucking queen.

Now I was stuck stalking across the lot and having to pull her away from the crowd without looking like I was pulling her away.

“Maybe it would be better if I asked her,” Malcolm said as he walked beside me, clearly reading my mind.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “She’s obviously pissed at you for something, and I wouldn’t put it past her to make a bit of a scene just so she could embarrass you.”

The growl of frustration escaped before I could even stop it.

“What did you do to rile her up?” Malcolm asked. It was an innocent enough question. I just couldn’t give him an honest answer. “I thought the two of you were finally on the same page.”

“Yeah, well… we were. Until she didn’t get her way.” It wasn’t a total lie. And it seemed to shut Malcolm up for the time being. We were about a dozen feet from Evangeline. She hadn’t spotted us yet. “I’m going to step aside so she doesn’t see me. Go over and tell her it’s time to go.”

Malcolm nodded.

“Oh… and Malcolm?” I said before he stepped away.

“Yeah?”

“Fire that guy.”

He didn’t argue. He simply nodded and started toward Evangeline.

I moved and stood back and watched. She smiled brightly at Malcolm as soon as she spotted him. I knew the moment he spoke, even though Malcolm’s back was to me, because Evangeline’s face went from pleasant to guarded to pissed. She immediately began looking around for me, but I stayed in the shadows.

It took five minutes, but Malcolm finally had her on the move and walking toward our town car—which was now in a different location. I was behind them when I heard her questioning where they were going, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she almost sounded nervous.

 “Thanks to your theatrics, Ellie May, we had to mix things up a bit. Tonight the car is picking us up back here.”

She spun and glared at me. “But… I need to go to the trailer and get…”

“Too bad.” I interrupted. “You should have thought of that before you decided to flirt your way into making the guard believe you gave photo ops on a daily basis. You’ve cost us enough time, and you’ve cost that guy his job. Tell Malcolm what you need, and if he has time, he’ll bring it to the apartment. Otherwise, deal without it.”

“I despise you.”

I ignored her words and placed my hand on her arm where Malcolm’s had just been and helped her—none too gently—into the car. “Good. Remember that feeling for tomorrow’s shoot. I hear it’s an emotional scene.”

She had the good sense to snap her pretty little mouth closed without saying another word. I slammed the door and quickly sprinted around to the other side. “Go and secure her trailer, Mal. If you see anything you really think she needs, bring it over. Otherwise, go home for the night. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a little less eventful.”

He nodded and walked away, and I climbed into the car beside her and motioned for the driver to go. The guy knew the drill. Every night he took a different route back to the apartment. It wasn’t a great plan, but we also hadn’t spotted anyone following us either.

“If you pull another stunt again tomorrow, I’ll make sure you’re pulled from this movie,” I said matter-of-factly.

Evangeline gasped. “You can’t do that.”

I turned and faced her, my expression neutral. “I can and I will. If you insist on courting danger—”

“I had a guard with me.” She interrupted.

That was true—she hadn’t done anything that was genuinely foolish except not let me keep her as safe as I wanted—but that was irrelevant to me at the moment. “If you insist on being reckless, they’ll cut you loose. You’ll become a liability to them. If you get hurt on their time, on their set? They’ll be responsible.”

Her mouth moved to speak, but no words came out. Then she finally looked out the window and muttered, “I should have called Sebastian.”

“Yup. You should have.” I waited before adding, “Why didn’t you?”

“Because making you miserable was more fun,” she said begrudgingly.

“Yeah. Look how that worked out for you.” And then it hit me. She was getting back at me for what had happened—for rejecting her. “What’s the matter, princess? No one ever reject you before?”

Her head snapped around, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I guess all those pretty Hollywood types never tell you no.” I shrugged. “You shouldn’t take it personally. You’re just not my type.”

“You are unbelievable, you know that? I cannot believe the size of your ego! You think I did all those things because of a kiss?”

I shrugged again. “You know the saying… If it walks like a duck.”

She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in disgust. “Unreal. Un-freaking real.”

Unable to help myself, I leaned in close. Big mistake. Her perfume hit me hard, and everything in me ached to reach out and touch her, to breathe her in. I shook my head to clear it and focus. “I think you’re pissed because I’m not like the men you normally have around you. I’m not tripping over myself to be with you. I’m not panting after you. I was able to walk away from you.”

Before she could respond, we pulled up in front of her building. Luckily, she remembered the drill—she was not to get out of the car without me being there to open the door. I climbed out and took a minute to just take a couple of deep breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

“Keep it together,” I muttered and walked around to her side of the car and pulled the door open.

Doing her best to ignore me, Evangeline stood and stepped aside while I closed the door. We walked to the entrance of the building where the doorman held the door for us and wished us a good evening. Ever since his little faux pas with the muffins, he’d been exceptionally attentive.

Too little, too late, but whatever.

We rode up in the elevator in silence.

At the door to her apartment, I unlocked it and let us in. She stood to the right of the inside of the door while I did a quick sweep of the apartment. “Clear,” I said and then watched as she stalked across the living room toward her bedroom. The loud slam of the door told me we weren’t going to be talking anymore tonight.

Fine. By. Me.

I was keyed up and paced the space. I was still fucking clueless. There was nothing out of place. There was no one around who shouldn’t be, and those who were, were quickly being eliminated as suspects. I was stumped. I couldn’t figure out where this threat was coming from.

All I knew was that we seemed to be doing a better job at keeping people at bay. No more weird deliveries, and nothing had shown up either here or at the set for over a week. While that was good news in and of itself, it didn’t help us with figuring out who our suspect was.

Pouring myself a drink, I sat down on the sofa and rested my head back. I was exhausted. Mentally and physically. It had never taken this long. I was good at what I did, and for the first time ever, I couldn’t get a read on a situation.

I could hear drawers slamming and Evangeline muttering and cursing under her breath. Yeah, she was pissed. Message received. Well, newsflash, so was I. The difference between the two of us was that I was going to sit here and keep it all in my head while she obviously felt the need to have a temper tantrum.

I knew she was immature.

Maybe if I kept saying things like that enough I’d be able to believe them. The truth of the matter was that I had a lot of respect for Evangeline. I didn’t want to, but I did. She’d pretty much held it together during all this, and other than the past two days, she’d followed all our instructions without really complaining.

She was talented. I mean seriously talented. Sometimes when they were filming, I just stood back and watched her and just… man. There weren’t any words. I listened to her and watched, and for a time I was able to forget that I was watching an actress perform. She transformed, and her talent was just staggering.

And she was beautiful. So beautiful she made me ache. Never in my life had I seen a woman like her. I knew she was beautiful, but I thought—mistakenly—Evangeline looked the way she did with the help of a team of makeup artists.

I was wrong.

Being that I was essentially living with her for weeks now, I’d seen her at every hour of the day, with makeup and without, and if I was being honest, I thought she looked better without all the war paint on. Her skin was flawless, and from the one time I’d actually allowed myself to touch it, it was as smooth and soft as silk.

My fingers began to twitch at just the thought of touching her skin again.

And not just the skin on her face.

I wanted to touch all of her. And it was getting harder and harder not to.

She was bewitching, and I should have known better. I’d only be making a fool out of myself to actually believe that someone like her could be attracted to someone like me, but that didn’t seem to stop me from wanting it to be true.

I was pathetic.

Once this case was over, I’d be just like thousands of guys all over the world— I’d jackoff to her picture too. The only difference was that I’d at least have the memory of what it was like to actually hold her in my arms and touch her and kiss her.

Even if it was for only a minute.

See? Pathetic.

I quickly finished my drink and stood and stretched. It had been a bitch of a day, and really, I needed some sleep. When this case was over, I was going to take a month off and just fucking sleep. By that time, I would definitely deserve it.

Making my rounds, I made sure the entire apartment was secure. Off in the distance I heard another door slam. She was going to take a shower. It was part of her routine, and I was used to it. And I tried not to imagine her standing naked with water cascading down her body.

I didn’t succeed.

Doors locked? Check. Windows locked and blinds closed? Check. I turned off the lights in the entryway, kitchen, and living room, and because I was a glutton for punishment, I checked the door to Evangeline’s bedroom.

Locked.

Fucking check.

I sighed and walked to my own room and flipped on the light as I kicked off my shoes. Sleep. I needed some sleep. Tossing my shirt on the chair in the corner, I sat on the side of the bed, raked a hand through my hair, and contemplated how long I was going to let myself sleep tonight. I’d love to give myself a solid eight hours—especially since Evangeline wasn’t due on the set until late afternoon—but I knew I’d probably only take four and then get up and just… wait. I wasn’t expecting any problems, but I’d feel better being awake and standing guard.

Not that it was appreciated.

With a weary sigh, I stood and pulled off my belt and tossed it. My hand was on my button fly when I heard a blood-curdling scream. Immediately I was running toward Evangeline’s room, but unfortunately, the door was locked. Without hesitation, I kicked it down.

And that hurt like a son of a bitch.

“Evangeline!” I called out. She wasn’t in her room, and nothing there looked out of place. The bathroom door wasn’t locked, and I quickly stepped inside and found her in the corner on the floor wrapped in a towel. She was soaking wet, and I couldn’t tell if she was crying or not. “Evangeline? What happened?” I kept my eyes on her face to try to keep her calm.

She was pale. Too pale. And she was trembling.

“Evangeline? Sweetheart? What’s going on?” I asked softly, my hands gently grasping her shoulders, looking for any signs of injury.

One hand reached out and shakily pointed to the linen closet. Slowly I stood and turned toward the closet. I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her one more time. I thought she was shaking even more. Going back to her, I lifted her in my arms and carried her out to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed before going back into the bathroom.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered and stopped at the open door.

There, on a bed of white towels, were the heads of three decapitated rats.