Deadly Obsession (3 page)

As she worked, Nic checked out his cute little photographer. A tan v-neck T-shirt molded her full breasts, and baggy cargo pants accentuated the roundness of her hips. The large pockets on her thighs bulged with an endless supply of gadgets she pulled out as needed. So cute, like a grown up Girl Guide.

Her curly hair was a beautiful light brown, what he’d call
châtain
in French, and her eyes were a rare blue-green. Wrapped in his arms, the top of her head would tuck under his chin. Nic felt a stirring in his BDUs. Damn, he loved short, curvy women.

She stepped away from him, the heat of her eyes on his face, his chest, his legs. “Rough, dangerous. Perfect,” she said, her voice husky. He imagined it would sound exactly like that if he had her underneath him. His cock hardened and he was suddenly very thankful to be sitting down.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, what do I do now?”

Kiss me
. Had she said that? Or was that just his wishful thinking?

“Put on the shoulder holster,” she said, destroying his fantasy.

The experience he’d gained with military gear while working on
Bad Days
served him well. She watched as he expertly slipped into the holster, bolstering his flagging ego. No, he wasn’t some weenie who needed a bodyguard 24/7.

“You’ll need these, too.” She lifted a set of military issue dog tags from around her neck.

After reading the imprinted name, he raised an eyebrow. “Todd James. A relative of yours?”

She nodded. “My husband. He died in Afghanistan five years ago.”

Christ
. He’d never been married, but he could imagine the pain she’d gone through. Losing a spouse at such a young age had to be devastating. He tried to hand the dog tags back to her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, the words sounding inadequate.

A shadow flitted across her face, but she waved his hand away. “Thank you. Now put them on.”

He’d done a lot of acting, but this was the first time he’d felt like an impostor. He was no hero, not like her husband, a man who’d died for his country. But the brittleness in Lauren’s eyes warned him not to fight her. He slipped the tags on. They were warm from her skin.

She smiled, but it seemed forced. “Lie down on the bed and lean against the pillows.”

Nic hated the tension that had settled over Lauren. He wanted a real smile from her this time. Crossing the room in a couple long steps, he threw himself onto the bed. He wiggled around for a few seconds before settling down. Right on cue, Lauren laughed.

Success
. “What? This isn’t good?” he asked, feigning confusion.

“You look great, and if I was going for a cross between GI Joe and Fabio on Barbie’s bed, this would be the perfect shot.” Amusement lit her eyes, making them glitter like topaz stones. The delight on her face kindled a fire in his chest. Seeing her smile was a better reward than a mantel full of Oscars.

He stood while she tore the salmon-colored bedspread off. After pulling back the top sheet, she showed him where to sit and adjusted the pillows behind his back. She covered the leg that was in the middle of the bed, twisting the sheet so it snaked over his leg, leaving his black combat boot exposed.

“Lift up your outside knee and anchor your leg with your foot,” she instructed, rushing to check the scene through the camera lens. She came back and adjusted the position of his raised knee, angling it toward the edge of the bed.

Although her touch was light, his skin burned where her hand wrapped around his knee and he wanted her to slowly slide her fingers higher and higher and higher….

He blew out a long breath.
Rein it in, lover boy
. His attraction to Lauren was explosive and he’d love nothing better than to explore it to the utmost limits. But with the stalker breathing down his neck, jealous of the women around him, the timing couldn’t be worse. He wanted to get to know Lauren, not get her killed.

Oblivious to her effect on him, Lauren backed away and nodded. “Perfect. Now raise your right arm and grab the headboard.” She reached into one of her big cargo pockets. “I’m going to hand you a knife. Hold it in your left hand and place the blade flat on your left thigh.”

“Lorna dear, is that really necessary?” Vivian asked, her voice coated with high-fructose corn syrup.

Lauren made a face and gritted her teeth. “The shot won’t work without the knife.”

Nic glanced at Vivian and frowned. “Lauren knows what she’s doing. She’s a professional.”

Vivian flashed him a broad smile, then turned to Lauren. “Of course she is, darling.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice like venom from a viper’s fangs.

“Viv, play nice.” She wanted the best for him, but if she didn’t tone it down a bit, she’d ruin the shoot.

Lauren shrugged off the interruption and the insult. She unsheathed a long silver bayonet and handed it to him. As he followed her instructions, she checked the composition of the shot through her camera viewfinder. A frown marred her forehead.

“I’m not getting this right, am I?” he asked.

“Almost. But the knife needs to be higher.” As she leaned over his shoulder, she very slowly slid her hand along his leg, pulling his hand higher until the blade lay diagonally along his upper thigh, pointing to his groin. He sucked in a breath. His muscles quivered under the warmth of her hand, so close to where he wanted it to be. “I won’t hurt you,” she said in her low sexy voice.

“Too late for that,
ma chère
.” He groaned at the thought of her hand on his cock.

Her face coloring, she snatched her hand back and returned to her camera. “Perfect,” she said, taking shots from different angles. All of a sudden, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He yawned widely and his eyelids drooped. “Hey, Nic. You okay?”

“Just tired. Vivian, could you get me some more coffee?”

“Whatever you need, darling,” Vivian said as she went to refill his cup in the sitting area. “How much longer will this take, Lorna?

Rolling her eyes, Lauren turned to Nic. “Just a few more shots, then we’re done.”

Lauren picked up her camera and walked around the bed. “Lie on your side, please.”

Grinning, he scooted his butt down, then grabbed the pillow and placed it under his head as if settling down for the night. Now that was an idea. He was so damn tired.

“Maybe you could rest your elbow on the pillow and hold your head up?”

Trying to get some more hands-on action, he placed his hand behind his neck, crooking his head back at an awkward angle. Her eyebrows pulled together and she shook her head. Nic swallowed a laugh. She set her camera on the nightstand and tugged on his shoulder to pull it forward. He resisted and, when she let go, rolled onto his back. Eyes closed, he lay there, waiting.

Lauren shook his shoulder. “Nic.”

He opened his eyes and met her concerned gaze. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d spent most of the night watching TV, but still…

He’d
never
fallen asleep on the job.

A loud commotion in the hallway startled him. Heart pounding, he jack-knifed in the bed. The door flew open and slammed against the wall. Without waiting to see who it was, he jumped up and pulled a frozen Lauren back. With the bed between her and the door, he pushed her to the floor. If the assailant had a gun, she’d be safe. Feet apart, fists clenched, he turned to face the intruder.

CHAPTER 2

Relief crashed over Nic when he recognized several members of the paparazzi squeezing through the door of the hotel room. He turned and helped Lauren to her feet. Her eyes were glazed with confusion. Coming here without a bodyguard had been more than stupid; it had been irresponsible. The reporters would wonder why he’d reacted so aggressively, and he absolutely didn’t want them to catch wind of his troubles with the stalker. He owed it to Vivian to turn this near fiasco into a photo op.

There was only one solution. With a resigned sigh, he pulled Lauren close, crushing her breasts against his chest.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she hissed. “I’m not one of your Paparazzi Girls.”

She wasn’t happy, but what could he do? Nic The Lover
always
found a Paparazzi Girl when cameras were around. His gaze darted between her and the photographers standing less than ten feet away. He arched a brow.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do it.”

He bent down and brushed his lips against hers. For the first few seconds, she didn’t kiss him back, but she didn’t push him away, either. Then, on a sigh, she leaned into him and her arms locked around his neck. His tongue darted out to taste her bottom lip. Mmm… cherry—his new favorite flavor. When her mouth opened, he didn’t hesitate.

He dove in. And drowned.

He’d meant this to be a quick kiss, only now he just couldn’t stop. His lips traced a path to her throat. Cupping her bottom with his hands, he lifted her up, grinding against her. She moaned. It was a beautiful sound, one he definitely wanted to hear again.

A loud noise pierced the fog of his lust. He raised his head from where he’d been nuzzling Lauren’s apple-scented neck to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but as the sexual haze cleared, he swallowed the words. The paparazzi had gathered around, applauding and calling out crude encouragements. Some snapped photos while others rolled film.
Shit
. He’d pay for this fuck-up and so would she.

His arm still around Lauren’s waist, he turned her toward the flashing lights and whispered, “Smile for the cameras,
chérie
.”

She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held her firmly. After forcing his lips into what he hoped was a sexy half smile, he made a show of winking at her.

“Hey Nic, who’s the new girl?” shouted one of the male reporters.

“Lauren James is an up-and-coming photographer from Seattle.”

“Looks like she’s not the only one who’s up and coming,” snickered someone in the back of the group. Laughter erupted.

He ground his teeth and pasted on a cocky smile. It took only one glance in Lauren’s direction to gauge her reaction. With camo paint smeared on her neck and across her beautiful face, she appeared feral.

“Nice makeup, Lauren,” one of the women called out.

The paparazzi had to go. Now.

He searched the room for Vivian. She stood, her back to the window, observing the scene with a wide smile. Agents loved this sort of publicity.

“Vivian,” he snapped, jerking his chin toward the door.

She stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please follow me. I’m happy to answer any questions you have about Nic and the brilliant success of his new action film
Bad Days
. As you may know,
Bad Days
premiered here at the GI Film Festival last evening. By all accounts, it’s yet another Nic The Lover blockbuster. There’s even talk of an Oscar…”

Nic’s tension drained out as she led the paparazzi into the hall and closed the door. With both palms, he rubbed his weary eyes. Too late, he remembered the camo paint.
Great
. Eyes burning, he turned to Lauren and gently grasped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She nodded stiffly. Unsure whether
he
was okay, he dropped into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. His legs felt heavy, like he’d run a marathon.

“Did you set this up?”

His eyes snapped open. Lauren stood in front of him, fists on hips, eyes sparking, lush lips pulled back in a fierce grimace.
Oh, yeah
. Even spitting mad, she looked absolutely gorgeous. If only he weren’t so damn tired…

“I have no idea how they found me. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“With what?” Lauren asked, her eyes blazing. “Being made into another one of your Paparazzi Girls or being the butt of their jokes?”

He was the worst kind of shit. What had started out as a simple kiss for the camera had snowballed into so much more, because he’d enjoyed it.

Because he’d enjoyed her.

Because he’d wanted it to go on forever.

Too bad getting involved with him could get her killed.

Gazing at the photo in her hand, she caressed Nic’s strong jaw. This beautiful man was the only one for her. The only one who measured up. The only real man left in the world.

Other men were weak imitations. The people in Hollywood knew it, too. And that’s why they tailor-made movies for him, showcasing the dark, dangerous man and the tender, sensuous lover. Like every alpha male, he needed an alpha female to keep him in line, and she was the perfect woman for the job.

Nic was such a naughty boy. She ran her fingertip along his full lower lip and smiled. She’d have to keep punishing her bad boy until he learned his lesson. If sightings, texts, and surprise visits from the paparazzi didn’t work, she had no qualms about escalating the punishments, until he got her message. After all, she’d do anything—
every
thing—for him.

She laid the photograph down on the table, cocking her head to the side as she examined it from a different angle. She could hardly wait to have him all to herself, to have him wrap his strong arms around her and lose control. Sex with Nic The Lover would be wild and rough, just the way she liked it. All his fans wanted him, but only she could have him. She was his perfect match.