Page 8 of Take the Lead
She’d only ever seen guns in the possession of police officers,and she didn’t know a damn thing about makes and models. This was some kind of shotgun, with a strap and a long barrel. Stone held it comfortably, more comfortably than he’d held her during their waltz. It fit in his big, scarred hands, fit with his long hair and shirtless, muscled upper body. He was like an action movie star ready to save the day against some villain.
Except they were filming areality TV show,not an action movie.
“You’re going toshootit?” Holyfuck.She didn’t want to get attacked by a bear, but she didn’t want to watch an animal get killed, either.
If it came down to a choice, though…
Stone pumped the shotgun, theca-clickloud in the silence around them. “No, I’m just going to scare it away. But I need you to cover your ears.”
Gina clapped her hands tight over her ears and hunched behind Stone’s broad back. As she squeezed her eyes shut, the image of him raising the barrel of the gun toward the sky burned into her memory. The blast of the shotgun echoed through the crisp Alaskan air, impossibly loud even through her hands. Long after the echo of the shot died away, she stood with her chin tucked into her chest, hands over her ears and eyes closed, until Stone’s big, warm hands curled over her shoulders.
“Gina. Gina, it’s okay.” His voice was close to her ear, close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek and catch the fresh, piney scent that emanated from his skin. “You’re safe. I scared it away. Please, open your eyes.”
“It’s gone? You’re sure?” She cracked open her eyelids and found his face just a few inches from her own, his eyes as clear and blue as the sky above.
“I’m positive.”
She didn’t say anything when he took her in his arms and held her.
It was only then that she realized she was shaking.
Three
Stone wrapped one of his arms around Gina. “I’m sorry. You’re okay now. It’s safe.”
She sagged against him, curling into his chest, her body shivering. The scent of tropical flowers invaded his senses.
“Gina? Are you all right? Talk to us.” Her producer at least had the decency to appear worried, although he kept the cameras rolling. Stone wanted to punch the guy. And his own producers, who’d come up with this stupid scheme.
When Gina continued to tremble and stare at the trees with naked fear in her eyes, Stone cupped her cheeks and waited until she looked at him.
“Gina? I’m going to pick you up and bring you inside, okay?” When she gave a shaky nod, he scooped her up and carried her to the main house. If he’d thought waltzing with her was intimate, it had nothing on holding her in his arms while she pressed her face to his bare chest.
The crew leapt into action, running ahead to keep Stone’s face in view. He maintained an impassive expression, just to thwart them. Inside he seethed, burning with the need to tell them all off.
In the living area, Stone settled Gina into his mother’s armchair while the camera operators hovered around them. When hestood, her hands clung to his arms, and she met his gaze with a look of terror.
Guilt stabbed through him. This was his fault. When Miguel approached him with the “bear” idea, he’d shrugged and said it sounded fine, like he did with all their other idiotic plans. He’d never expected that Gina would respond this way. It made sense, though. She was an urbanite, through and through. Frightening her like this was just cruel.
“Pass me that blanket,” he told one of the PAs, pointing to his grandmother’s handmade quilt draped over the back of the narrow sofa. “And get her a bottle of water.”
Stone sank to his knees beside Gina and tucked the quilt around her legs. He rubbed her shoulders and stroked the hair out of her face while she drank the water in halting sips. Maybe it was weird to be touching her with such familiarity, but from the way she gripped his wrist on her quilt-covered lap, she didn’t seem to mind.
“Are you okay now?” he asked in a low voice, ignoring the two camera crews surrounding them. She bit her lip and nodded, but he didn’t believe her. Her eyes, when they met his, were still too wide, too glassy. If he could just make her smile again, like she had on the porch, he’d know she was all right. But he didn’t know how.
Her producer approached. “Ready to go, Gina?”
Wait, she was leaving? Already?
Stone wanted to ask her to stay, to do the whole thing over. He wouldn’t act like such a robot this time, and they’d nix the bear interruption. They’d dance on the porch and laugh like they weren’t surrounded by other people. Like they weren’t being paid to talk to each other.
But what was the point? He’d be in Los Angeles soon enough. Their initial meeting was over and the crews had the footage they wanted. Better that she leave now, before theLiving Wildcrew came up with some other way to traumatize her.
Stone pulled on a quilted plaid jacket and followedThe Dance Off’s crew through the forest to the beach. One of theLiving Wildhelicopters waited for them on the sandy spit. They loaded Gina in and took off, soaring away over the water.
After the helicopter and the seaplane were gone, Miguel kept Stone on the beach for a reaction interview.
“What did you think of Gina?” Miguel prompted.
