Her pulse started to hammer. ‘You went because I like it?’
Slowly his eyes, his beautiful, beautiful eyes, met hers. ‘Yes.’
And even though she’d half expected the answer, hearing him say it so clearly, caused her heart to jump. ‘When did you book the tickets?’
‘Does it matter?’ He looked down at the glass of wine in his hand. ‘It was the day we picked Debs up from the party. While I was waiting for you to finish talking to her in her room, I noticed an F1 Racing magazine on the sofa. One of the many items on the sofa, if I recall.’
The last sentence was his way of lightening the atmosphere, of changing the subject. Even as she allowed herself to laugh though, and allowed him to smoothly move the conversation on, Kat kept coming back to what he’d just admitted. Even before that first kiss, he’d liked her enough to book the tickets because he thought she would enjoy it. It was a thoughtfulness, just like with the hamper, that she’d not expected, and though it warmed her to her core, it also scared the living daylights out of her. Were these really the actions of a man who only wanted sex? A quick fling with his bodyguard while he was under her protection?
She didn’t know him well enough to be certain. Maybe he treated all the women he fancied like this … and the fact she was including herself in that category, hardly seemed possible.
When the wine had been drunk and the crackers eaten and cleared away, Kat hovered at the foot of the stairs. She didn’t want to tease, to suggest something she couldn’t deliver on. Yet it felt wrong to end the day without him knowing exactly what it had meant to her.
‘Before we go up, there’s something I want to say.’
A slow smile spread across his face. ‘If it’s your bed or mine, I’m easy either way.’
She had to work hard to push the images of him naked, in her bed, out of the way. ‘Yesterday, and then, wow, today. It’s been a very special weekend. I wanted you to know that.’
He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. ‘Special for me, too.’
She should leave it at that, though somehow it didn’t seem enough. ‘I can’t remember the last time I felt so … so … oh God, I don’t know the words.’ Frustrated with herself, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘Nobody’s ever done that for me before.’
‘Treated you?’ When she nodded, he gave a slow shake of his head. ‘Then it’s beyond time someone did.’
It was so easy to get swept up in his looks, but it did him a disservice. It was fast becoming clear that inside, he was pretty special, too. ‘I want to kiss you.’ When his eyes rounded she smiled, ‘But you have to promise not to kiss me back.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘If you do, it will get out of hand, and I can’t risk it. So, will you promise?’
Slowly his Adam’s apple moved up and down. ‘I’ll try.’
Softly, gently, she pressed her lips against his, feeling the tingle from it all the way to her toes. For a few breathless seconds, she held her mouth there, her head spinning, her heart melting. When his hands slid to her hips, pressing her against him, she let out a moan pleasure. Then heaved her body away.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Then she darted up the stairs before his hot, beguiling eyes drew her into something she absolutely couldn’t afford to succumb to.
Chapter 20
Zac was into his fourth week of being the victim of a stalker. His fourth week of needing a bodyguard.
His fourth week of knowing Kat.
Was it possible to fall in love in that space of time? And despite not going further than two incredible, yet far too short, kisses?
He didn’t think so, but that’s not how his heart had felt yesterday, when he’d watched her watch the Grand Prix. A woman who grabbed life by the scruff of the neck, she’d been in her element watching the adrenalin-fuelled sport, her response to everything so animated, his heart had pumped that little bit faster every time he’d looked at her.
Even now, on a grey, overcast Monday morning, she made everything brighter. And that despite the text he’d just read from Helena, the words sending shivers down his spine.
We’ve been told if he’s going to be released, it could happen any day now.
Feeling sick, Zac pushed the phone back in his pocket as Kat drove through the studio gates. He refused to worry about something that still might not happen. The man was part of his past, and there was no reason to think he wouldn’t stay there.
Instead of dwelling on the bad, the nasty, he turned to watch Kat scan the studio car park, as she did every morning, before turning off the engine and climbing out of the car to open his door.
‘One day I’d like to open a door for you.’
‘Hmm.’ Whether she heard him and chose to ignore him, or just didn’t hear, he wasn’t sure, because her focus wasn’t on him, but on the car park.
‘I hate always waiting for you to open the door for me,’ he complained. ‘It’s horribly unchivalrous.’
He caught her lips twitching. ‘God, Zac, you and your weird way of talking.’
‘Weird? I take exception to that. I speak the Queen’s English.’
‘That’s what it is, huh?’ She wasn’t listening, not really. Her attention was on the rows of cars.
‘Kat? Is everything okay?’
‘Probably.’
‘Not exactly the answer I was hoping for. In fact, you’re starting to freak me out a tad,’ he told her, worry settling like cold porridge in his stomach.
‘As long as it’s only a tad.’
Suddenly Kat swore violently and as she shoved him hard onto the floor he heard the crack of gunfire echo around the car park.
His heart began to pound, the sound a loud, insistent throb in his eardrums.
‘Are you okay?’ Kat’s voice echoed above him.
‘Yes, fine.’
While he continued to cower on the floor – he wasn’t proud of it, but his instinct was to hide from gunfire, not leap up and face the shooter – Kat talked on her phone, her words precise, her tone calm. He’d barely been able to squeeze his two words out.
‘The police have been called. Security are out there now, doing a sweep of the car park.’ She reached down for his arm. ‘Can you get into the car and lie down across the back seat?’
‘Of course.’ He manoeuvred himself inelegantly into the back of the car, then froze when he saw Kat climb into the front and wriggle across into the driver’s seat. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demanded. ‘And keep your bloody head down.’
‘It’s not me they want.’ She turned on the ignition and thrust the car into reverse. ‘I’m driving to the entrance so we can get you safely inside.’
He had no time to argue. A squeal of tyres on tarmac and he was hurtled against the back of the seat.
A minute later she bundled him inside. He was mortified to find his legs trembling.
‘Let’s get to the dressing room.’ Kat was like the strong, fearless lion to his wimpy newborn lamb. ‘You look like you could do with a sit down and a drink of something strong enough to blow your knee-caps off.’
‘Actually, I’d like to retain them, if it’s all the same. They’re the only thing keeping my legs from giving way.’