Page 12 of The Movie Star and the Spy

“She’ll be stopping that.”

Wait, what?

Even if he could get her to stop, it was not his role or right to do so. Yet the urge to do so was nearly escapable.

Zachary raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How do you figure?”

“Because–” Julian halted. How did he know that? Was he planning on stopping her?

Yes.

“Because you like her.” Zachary toasted his beer.

Far too much. Julian took an extra-long gulp of the smooth liquid. “Didn’t I say no comment?”

“Yeah, but I’m your best friend, and it doesn’t work like that. Besides, I tell you everything about my love life.” Zachary grinned. “Since Ms. Dane is obviously taken, even if she doesn’t realize it yet, I was thinking about getting to know Ms. Cole a little better.”

Julian frowned at the memory of the beautiful, sweet and yet slightly naive extra. “She’s not like the sophisticated women you’re accustomed to.” Although his friend liked short-term casual flings, the ladies always understood the situation. “Isn’t she a little quiet for you?”

Zachary held up both hands. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I’d actually like to get to know her better. Literally.”

Julian waited for a punchline that never came. “You’re kidding. Do you actually want to settle down?”

“I’m not picking out minivans, but I may be ready for more.” His grin faded into seriousness. “Miss Cole seems like a mighty fine place to start.”

Julian lowered his drink. Zachary never seemed the type to want a deeper relationship. He was the stereotypical perennial bachelor, the guy who liked women a little too much to settle for just one. But people change – they want more. Destiny snagged his thoughts again. Did he want more?

It was ludicrous. He’d only known the woman for a short time, way too early to be thinking about what was real or not. One thing was certain: she was an enigma, and he didn’t like unsolved mysteries.

“Thinking about Destiny again, huh?”

This time he didn’t deny it. Despite her hesitancy, she was determined to play the role of vapid starlet, a role that included him. He’d happily take part.

And while he was playing hero to her heroine, he would learn more about her. He would uncover the true woman behind Destiny Dane.

CHAPTER 4

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” one asked.

“Soooo very lucky,” another agreed.

“I’d just die to be you,” a third shared.

But then she’d be dead. So, really, not the best trade-off. If Cheyenne wasn’t so stressed about her upcoming… performance… she might’ve had more difficulty containing her laugh at the nonsensical comments. Right now all she could think about was Julian Starcroft.

And his hands on her unclothed body.

She’d hoped to make an inconspicuous entrance onto the set, but it was soon apparent that being elevated to permanent body double was something along the lines of an Oscar to the beautiful extras. They ahhed and oohed, crowding her, as if her good fortune – or rather what they assumed was good fortune – would rub off on them. If only they knew she wasn’t here for Starcroft, but to protect them from a criminal intent on exploiting them.

To do that, she would flirt with every man on set, all except one, of course. One strapping, muscular, delicio…ahem. No, she wouldn’t be flirting with Julian Starcroft. Instead he’drequire her to stay perfectly still while he conducted his intimate administrations.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down, froze at the flashing name. Anger and frustration tangled with elation and happiness, a juxtaposition of impossible emotions. She hesitated, but then nodded goodbye to the women and retreated to an alcove where she’d be shielded from sight and sound. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to answer the phone.

It buzzed again. She shouldn’t answer it, shouldneveranswer for this man.

It stopped buzzing, and the familiar sense of loss pierced her. She waited, and as if on the director’s cue, it vibrated again five seconds later. This time she answered on the first ring. “Why are you doing this to me?” She hadn’t meant to whisper the words, certainly hadn’t meant to insert such raw emotion. She’d meant to demand he never call again. She’d meant to tell him that every time he called.

She never did.

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