Chapter 9
Chase
“Aw, shit.” I grab her arm, giving a nod to my men that we’re on our way out. “We’ve got to go. Right now.”
I scan in all directions as we push our way through the crowd, looking for anything suspicious.
Fuck! What was I thinking? Letting her come out to a public event like this?
Now her cover is blown. The stalker knows where she is. I put her at risk.
I let my guard down. Let my feelings for her get in the way.
“What’s wrong? Where are we going?” She stays close behind me as I lead her through the crowd.
“Your cover’s blown.”
“What?” Her hand flies to the eye patch. “But—”
“The stalker’s here.” I let her see the grave expression in my eyes. I need her to understand the seriousness of this situation.
Her whole face crumples in fear. “No, no, no.”
I squeeze her arm firmly. “Stay close. I’m taking you to the safe house, but we’ve gotta move now.”
She nods, picking up the pace, but as we push through the doors to head outside, a blinding white flash hits my eyes.
“Get down!” I shield her body with mine as she cowers under me, but more and more flashes pop all around us, and I realize it’s cameras.
It’s the fucking paparazzi.
A young woman shouts, “That’s her! It’s Harper Slade! With the eye patch!”
A tall, dark-haired woman lunges in front of us, sticking a microphone in Harper’s face. “Why did you lie to us about Johnny Sayers?” she demands as a chorus of squeals sound out and a throng of people swarm around us.
It’s bringing back memories. Bad memories.
“Harper, we still love you!” a girl’s voice calls out.
A hefty blond man with an expensive-looking camera pushes against me, then he snaps a dozen photos in Harper’s face before I shoulder check him back. But now some of the fans are groping Harper. Clawing at her.
“Step back!” I holler, bracing an arm out to clear the way for her.
“Chase.” Her fingers tighten around my arm. “Get me out of here.”
I look her straight in the eye. “Can you run in those shoes?”
“Yes.” She gives me a confident nod, and I shoot her one in return.
“Step! Back!” I push hard through the sea of people until we finally reach a point where we can break through.
I turn to her. “You ready?”
She nods. “Let’s go.”
We break into a run. I dial my pace back, expecting her to be slower than I am, but she blazes past me. She’s lightning fast.
In heels.
“Hurry up!” she calls over her shoulder.
Who is this woman?
“Yeah, I’m coming!”
I finally catch up with her as we round the corner, then we breeze past a dozen startled onlookers as we sprint the last few blocks to the car.
We pile in, and I throw it in gear, peeling out and barreling over the bridge toward safety. But I’m kicking myself.
How could I have let her walk into such a dangerous situation in the first place?
If I hadn’t been distracted by her incredible moves—even joining her!—I might have sensed something was up. I might have been able to get her out of there before the mob gathered.
She pulls off the wig and the eye patch, plopping them in her lap. “Well, so much for these.”
I’m shaking my head. “No. This was my fault. I never should have allowed you to attend an event like that.”
“Hah!”
I check the rearview to make sure we’re not being followed, then glance over. Her eyes are wide with indignation. “What?”
“I’m the client. I wanted to go to the ball, so you took me to the ball. Period.”
“No way. I’m the one trained to protect you. It’s my job to decide what’s safe and what’s not.”
She chuckles.
“What’s so funny?”
“At least now I know what your special training was.” She grins at me.
Oh. The dancing.
“I uh… I took classes when I was a kid.” Technically, that’s true. They had us doing hours of dance rehearsals daily when we were performing.
“Sure you did.”
“What?”
“No, I’m sure those sizzling hot moves were what they had all the boys doing in dance class.”
“All right.” I tip my head. “Also, I…like to dance.” It’s true.
“I think you love to dance.”
I check the rearview again, then look over. She’s smiling from ear to ear.
“Fine. Maybe I do.”
“Mm-hmm. I love to dance too.” She says it in a flirty tone—like it’s a come-on—and I get the message. She likes that I dance. She’s pointing out we’re well matched in certain ways.
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I shoot her a smirk, and she shakes her head.
We turn onto the winding road that runs along the river toward the safe house, and she’s quiet for a moment, watching out the window.
The moon is full tonight, and her green eyes are catching the light.
Even with her hair flattened from that silly wig and red lines crisscrossing her face from the patch, she looks ravishing.
“Listen, Harper.” I clear my throat. “I owe you an apology.”
“Hmm?” She turns to me.
“Yesterday, when you showed up, I said some things I regret.”
“Oh. You mean the part about how I’m living in a fairy-tale fantasyland?” She smirks as if to make light of it, but the fact she remembers it word for word tells me I hurt her.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong to judge you, and I don’t think that anymore. Not now that I know you.”
Her expression softens. “Thanks.”
I nod, attempting to keep my eyes focused on the road so I won’t be distracted by her beauty. “You’re welcome.”
“You know, I never met a security guy who knew how to apologize before.”
I chuckle. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I smile to myself. “Well, I never met a pop star brave enough to go out in public wearing something like that”—I point to the wig in her lap—“just so she can live it up a little.”
She laughs, turning the wig over in her hands. “That particular look is now immortalized for eternity.” But then she sighs. “People are gonna think I had a mental breakdown.”
My heart aches at her words. Of course, I thought the same thing too. For a little while.
When I look toward her, she meets my eyes.
“But I don’t care.” She gives me a crooked smile. “I’m glad we did it.”
For some reason, I love the way she says we. Like it was an adventure we decided to go on together.
Maybe it was.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, me too.”
Even if it didn’t work out the way she’d hoped, I haven’t had fun like that in a long time. I haven’t let go and danced like that in forever. Being with Harper makes me feel alive in a way I didn’t even think was possible anymore.
I look over again, and she’s giving me a wide smile that makes my whole body warm.
“What’s this safe house like? Is it fancy?”
I chuckle. “No, it’s not fancy. It’s a one-bedroom safe house. But it’s secure.”
“Mmm.” She bounces her eyebrows. “Only one bed, huh?”
I take a deep breath to steady myself, then let it out slowly.
I don’t sleep around. That’s not how I am, but God knows I’d take her up on that offer if the circumstances were different. I know I could get serious about her.
Fuck, maybe I’m already serious about her.
But it’s not possible. It could never work. And besides, I’m also the only thing standing between her and some crazed stalker running around town. I have a responsibility to keep her safe tonight, and I can’t do that if I’m balls deep inside her.
God, what I wouldn’t give to be balls deep inside her…
But I shake my head.
“I’m sleeping on the couch.”