Guarded Desires (24 page)

The throbbing in Chris’s eyes moved to the rest of his head. He scrunched up his face, each word his agent said cutting him deep. “And if I don’t?” he asked.

There was a long pause on the other end of the connection before Leonard finally said, “Do you really want to commit career suicide so young, Chris?”

There was no hidden meaning in the threat. Chris’s action-film career was over if he didn’t declare himself straight.

He swallowed, the lump in his throat thick and hot and bitter.

Beside him, Bethany’s phone began to ring in her hand. He flicked her a look, an invisible blanket of suffocating wool wrapped around him.

“It’s your sister,” Bethany mouthed, reading her iPhone’s screen.

Chris’s head buzzed some more. The hair on his nape pricked. “I’ve got to go, Leonard,” he said into his cell.

He ended the call before his agent could finish shouting a protest.

Taking Bethany’s offered cell, he raised it to his ear and watched his assistant walk from the room. “Rowie?”

“Heya, squirt.” His sister’s warm voice tickled his sanity. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“You’ve seen the images, I take it?”

She laughed at his stupid question. A faint gurgle through the connection told him his sister was holding his new baby niece. “Hard to miss. I don’t know what it’s like in Australia, but it’s impossible to escape it over here. Glad to see they got your good side.”

“See?” Chris gave a weak chuckle. “That’s what I said.”

“So tell me, how long have you been showing your good side to guys?”

The question was calm. He wished he could see her face. He truly had no idea what Rowan was thinking. Was she disgusted? He didn’t think she would be, but he didn’t really know. She’d never expressed any distaste for homosexuality, but then it wasn’t something they’d discussed often. “Not long,” he answered, studying the ceiling. “Twelve hours or so.”

“Okay, wasn’t the answer I was expecting.”

He snorted. “It wasn’t?”

“No, I’d psyched myself to give you a lecture on not trusting me enough to tell me your sexual preferences. You’ve taken my thunder away.”

Chris frowned. “So you’re not upset?”

“Upset?” He could hear the shock in her question. “Why would I be upset? Aslin is pissed at Liev for being unprofessional, but me? Chris, I don’t care if you’re gay or straight. You’re still my brother.”

A tingling pressure rolled up Chris’s spine and over his scalp. He dragged a hand through his hair. Jesus, he wished Rowan was here with him. He’d never needed his sister as much as he did now. “I don’t know if I’m gay. Maybe I’m bi?”

“Bi?”

He shrugged, which given Rowan was on the other side of the world was a stupid thing to do. “I’ve slept with my fair share of women, sis.”

“True. Do you want to sleep with more?”

The tingling weight creeping over his head turned into a hot vise around his temples. He closed his eyes. The answer to the question twisted a knot around his heart. “No. Not anymore. I honestly can’t see myself with anyone else but Liev.”

Silence followed his flat statement. He wondered what Rowan was doing? Chewing on her bottom lip most likely. It was her favourite expression when thinking about something important, and the bombshell dropped upon her definitely fell into the important category.

“So this is you now?” she finally asked, her voice soft.

“I think this has been me forever, Rowie,” he answered, his chest tight. “I just didn’t know it until I met Reynolds. I’ve never felt connected to any of the women I’ve dated, no matter how perfect for me they seemed to be, even back in high school before the fame and the money. Remember how often you gave me a hard time for not taking any of them seriously? For being a prick about casting them off just when it was obvious they’d become serious about me?”

“I do.”

“I used to think that was just the way I was. I used to laugh at the idea of explosive passion and soul-deep fulfillment. Thought it was just some bullshit created by poets and propagated by song writers, chick-flick writers and Mills and Boon.”

“Oh, Chris,” Rowan murmured.

He opened his eyes and studied the ceiling again. “And then when I saw that you’d found it with Aslin…” He petered out, not sure how to tell his sister how jealous he’d been.

“And now you feel all this? Explosive passion and soul-deep fulfillment? With Liev Reynolds?”

A wave of tormented happiness ebbed over Chris. He smiled, picturing the Australian who’d forever changed him. “For the first time in my life, I feel alive, sis. Truly alive. If I can borrow from Tom Cruise for a moment, I feel complete when I’m with him. Not just when we’re having sex, but just being with him. Being in his company. I feel happy and content and safe and me. One hundred percent me. I haven’t felt any of those things since Mom and Dad were killed, Rowie. None of them.”

“Why do you sound so sad then, Chris? Are you worried about your career?”

He let out a ragged breath. His career. Television’s highest-paid sitcom star, a movie star in the making, a sex symbol. “I’m not. As far as I’m concerned Hollywood is just going to have to deal with the fact the tough guy on the screen kicking ass and taking names is sleeping with his male lover when the credits roll. Fuck it. Hollywood loves to talk about how liberal it is. I’m going to make them put their money where their collective mouths are. If Neil Patrick Harris can be openly gay, so can I. It’s about time Hollywood embraced a homosexual leading man, not just a secondary character in a television show. If the studio suits don’t like that, they’re going to have a fight on their hands.” He smiled, picturing Rowan chewing on her lip in L.A. “I’m good at fighting when I need to. My sister taught me how to do it.”

Rowan’s answering laugh was warm. “I’m glad I’ve had a positive influence on your life, squirt. Now tell me why I’m still hearing pain in your voice.”

Chris swallowed. “Because Reynolds is being a stubborn pain in the ass and won’t even be in the same room with me.”

“Why not?”

The steely edge in Rowan’s voice made him smile. She’d protected him for over ten years, and now it seemed she was prepared to protect his heart. “Because as far as I can tell, he thinks I’m better off without him in my life.”

“What are you going to do about that?”

Chris laughed. “Show him he’s wrong. There’s another thing you taught me over the years, sis. Just as important as picking my fights.”

“And what’s that, squirt?”

“You taught me never ever to give…”

The rest of the statement died in Chris’s throat when Bethany walked into the room. With Liev walking beside her.

“Chris?” Rowan said.

Chris stared at the man, unable to breathe. Unable to move.

“Chris?” his sister repeated.

Without a word, he held out his cell phone to Bethany.

“Hi, Mrs. Hemsworth-Rhodes. It’s Bethany.” He heard her say the words, but her voice was soft. Distant. Fading.

He pushed himself to his feet, his focus locked on Liev.

The Australian walked deeper into the living room, his hands in his hip pockets, his jaw bunched.

Chris’s pulse beat in his neck, a wild tattoo of nervous excitement. He swallowed, his throat rougher than sandpaper. “Thanks for the police escort.”

The man didn’t say a word.

Chris licked his lips. He watched Liev draw closer. Christ, he was gorgeous. And here. Right here in the room with him. “It came in handy when Jeff received a text the Audi’s brakes had been cut and we couldn’t drive less than eighty miles an hour.”

Liev didn’t react.

“Yeah, that was lame,” Chris said, his gut knotting. “Sorry. I’m still recovering from the attempted alien invasion. Good thing the cops were there to stop it. And I think I saw Will Smith as well.”

A foot away, Liev stopped. His gaze held Chris prisoner.

“Okay.” A scratchy laugh hiccupped its way past Chris’s lips. “Will didn’t actually make an appearance, but there was this suspicious looking BMW that kept following us. And Jeff has no clue what the speed limit actually is in the country and I think the cops were just trying to keep up with him.”

Fuck, he was babbling.

Liev’s nostrils flared. His chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths.

The urge to close the distance between them welled through Chris. He shifted his feet, aching to smooth his hands over Liev’s chest, snare a fistful of the man’s hair and tug his face down so he could kiss him senseless. Instead, Chris pulled a deep breath, squared his shoulders and said, “I want you to come back with me to L.A. tomorrow.”

Liev lifted his eyebrows.

“I know it’s insane,” Chris went on before the man could say anything, “but I’m not fucking about. I don’t know if it’s love, it fucking
feels
like love, who knows? I’ve never been in love, but I’m goddamn sure I’m in love with you and I know you’ve changed
everything
in my world. Everything. And I don’t want to leave Australia without you. I want you to come back to L.A. with me and see if what
this
is…” he waved a finger back and forth between them, his stare locked on Liev’s face, “…really
is
what I think it is. I want you with me, not as my bodyguard, but as my lover, my partner. I can give you whatever you want, Reynolds, whatever you want. You won’t want for anything. You won’t even need to work. Geez, that sounds like I want to make you a kept man. I don’t, I just…fuck, I’m doing a fucking piss-poor job of this.” His chest constricted and he scraped his fingers over his scalp, his heart slamming in his throat. “I fucking… Man, why won’t you say anything? How can you be standing here so fucking calm when I’m…when I’m…
fuck
, I just…I just…”

“Take a breath, Huntley.”

Liev’s deep voice flayed Chris’s senses. He scrunched up his face, tugged at his hair and pulled in one long, slow breath.

Holding it for a count of ten, he let it out just as slowly and then opened his eyes. “I want you, Reynolds. Not just for sex, but for everything. Come back to L.A. with me. Please?”

The muscles in Liev’s jaw knotted. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down the smooth column of his throat. Without a word, he took the final step separating them, cupped Chris’s face in his strong hands and lowered his head.

His lips brushed Chris’s. It couldn’t be called a kiss. It was too reverent, too tender. It filled Chris’s soul with contentment and joy.

And then it was over.

Liev stepped away from him, one step, just one, and shook his head. “You don’t want to destroy your career over someone who doesn’t do commitment, Huntley.”

An invisible fist punched into Chris’s gut. His blood roared in his ears. He stared into Liev’s eyes, refusing to believe what he was hearing.

Liev raised his hand and traced his thumb over Chris’s bottom lip. “I will always remember this.” His jaw bunched again. His breath left him in a hitching groan and then he turned and walked away. He stopped at the top of the stairs to turn back to Chris. “I checked your schedule. You don’t need me for your remaining time in Australia. I’ve arranged a police escort to the airport for you tomorrow morning and the airline will meet you at the arrival gates with a security team to keep the crowds at bay before you board your flight.” He bent sideways at the waist and collected his overnight bag from the floor. “Goodbye, Mr. Huntley. Good luck with your future movies.”

He turned and descended the stairs to the foyer without looking back, the sound of the door closing telling Chris he was gone.

Gone.

And it didn’t matter how long Chris stood there waiting for him to come back, to say he’d changed his mind. He didn’t.

He didn’t, goddamn it.

He didn’t.

Chapter Sixteen

Two weeks of self-exile didn’t help Liev at all.

He worked out in his home gym, jogged the streets in the early hours of the morning before the sun broke the eastern horizon, punched the shit out of the punching bag hanging in his garage, and spent every damn hour of the day punishing himself for his lack of self-control.

It didn’t work. Every bloody time he closed his eyes he saw Chris bloody Huntley.

He refused to answer the phone or door. He’d rung his captain at the station house the day Chris flew out of Australia and told the man he was taking a month off. He had time accrued and needed to take it. The man didn’t ask why. The whole bloody world probably knew why. Any body-guarding work lined up he cancelled. Politicians didn’t need a celebrity guarding them, and that’s what he currently was—a celebrity, famous for being caught
deflowering
Chris Huntley.

It was that headline that sent him into hiding. The morning Chris left the country, Liev had opened his morning newspaper to read the headline
Bi-sexual Australian Bodyguard Deflowers American Actor.

He’d folded the paper, placed it on the table, collected his iPod from the cupboard, stuck the earbuds in his ears and hit play. AC/DC had blasted his ear canal louder than was medically sound.

He’d walked down into the garage, hung the heavy punching bag on its hook and begun punishing himself.