Hollywood Blackmail (5 page)

“Put your pants on, Ash,” she said, trying to sound bored. “The view is starting to get a little old.”

He just grinned, lazily pulling his boxers on. “So stop looking.”

“A bit difficult when you’re just about waving your butt in my face.”

“A bit difficult when you can’t stop yourself from looking at my butt, you mean.”

With an effort she managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Are we done here yet?”

“Nope.” He pulled on his jeans, his abs tensing impressively as he did up the buttons on his fly. “After I’ve gotten dressed, you’re giving me a lift home.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know about the file breach, I’m assuming? It means I can’t stay here. And since the media presence out in front of the clinic is too big for a quiet getaway, I’m going to need to find an alternative way out of here.”

She blinked, not really processing all this. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want any photos of this damn scar. Which means I have to leave quietly. No one’s going to be looking too closely at clinic staff leaving for the day.”

“You mean you want me to drive you to your house?”

“Sure. I’ll borrow some scrubs. Wear a cap. No one will spot me.”

Wonderful. So she wasn’t going to get any respite at all from his disturbing presence. Her day was just getting better and better. “But I’ll be noticed leaving—”

“No, you won’t. Once we get to my house, you’ll be staying.”

Lizzie tried to keep her gaping mouth shut. “What already? You can’t be serious.”

“Sure I am. I told you I’d protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do. Once you’re there, you’ll be safe.”

“But…I have to go home.” Why was the only thing she could think about that she didn’t have any clean clothes?

He lifted a shoulder. “No problem. We’ll swing by your apartment first so you can pick up some things.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did. Looked like the lack of sleep and the shock of seeing Ash again had done something to her brain.

Her shock must have been obvious, because he walked over to her and before she knew what he was doing, he’d put a gentle finger beneath her chin, tipping her head back

“Don’t worry about it, Lizzie girl,” he murmured. “I’ve got it all planned out. No one’s going to see you. No one’s going to know who you are. Once you’re in my house your secret identity will be safe with me.”

Her instinct was to jerk her chin away but she didn’t, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I hate to point out the obvious, Ash, but I was already safe. Until you came along and blackmailed me.”

Something flickered in his gaze. “You think they would have stayed safe? Secrets have a way of coming out no matter how hard you try to hide them. Especially in Hollywood. Besides, if even patient files aren’t safe in this clinic, then you’re not safe. “

He was so smug. So certain. So hot…

For some reason her skin seemed to have become acutely sensitive to the touch of his fingers and her gaze mesmerized by the shape of his mouth. By the curve of his bottom lip.
You could suck on that all day…

Holy crap. Where the hell had that thought come from?

His thumb moved, sweeping across her own bottom lip, as if he knew exactly the direction of her thoughts. And right on cue, a familiar heat gathered in the pit of her stomach.

A dangerous heat.

“Ah, there they are,” he murmured, his thumb making another pass across her lip. “I remember those eyes. Dark gray. Like a thunderstorm.”

And she remembered his. Black and hot. Like espresso.

“And I remember saying something about a syringe full of laxatives if you touched me again,” she said hoarsely. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

He grinned. “Hardball, huh? My favorite game.” His fingers dropped from her mouth and she wasn’t disappointed, not in any way. “In fact, I’ve got one rule already. How about you drop the contacts? “

Her lip felt full and sensitive where he’d touched it. Hot. She pushed the feeling away. “Why? What does it matter to you what I look like?”

“I don’t want you hiding when you’re with me, Lizzie Kent.” The look in his eyes turned intent. “Or should I say, Coco Dawn.”

She crossed her arms over her thudding heart. “I’ve got good reasons for keeping my identity under wraps, Ash.”

“I know, but like I said, you’re safe with me. You don’t need to groom yourself in my house, Lizzie-girl. I prefer you au naturel.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then realized it was only going to sound like a justification and shut it again. God, she was going to have to put up with it, wasn’t she? She was going to have to capitulate. And not just with the contacts. With the whole damn thing.

Going back to having grey eyes. Going to his stupid house. Staying there.

Otherwise he was going to go to Helen with a complaint against her.

Seacliffe isn’t the only place you can get work.

Well, no, it wasn’t. But Helen had paid her tuition fees on the understanding she’d work there for at least five years, and that five years wasn’t up yet. She couldn’t leave. Not only was it a betrayal of Helen’s trust it in her, it was also completely unprofessional. Definitely not the kind of start she wanted to a career she’d hoped would finally help her put her past behind her once and for all.

Anyway, her feelings about Ash shouldn’t make any difference in the job she had to do. In fact, as a professional, she should be putting those feelings to one side and doing the work. And besides, Helen didn’t need any more issues with disgruntled clients on top of what she was already dealing with this morning.

No, for the good of her job, for Seacliffe, she had to do this.

She crossed her arms tighter. Lifted her chin. “Fine. But you’re not going to be the only one who gets to lay down some rules.”

“Oh really?”

“If you want something from me then you’re going to have to give me something in return. It’s a two-way street, Ash.” She’d be damned if he was going to be the one who called the shots. He might get what he wanted in Hollywood, but that wasn’t going to work with her.

His expression didn’t change, but a subtle air of tension gathered around him. “I’ve heard of this two-way street. Not sure I like it.”

“Are you going to listen?”

“Sure, why not? What do you want?”

Lizzie squared her shoulders. “You can’t touch me again without asking.”

Something in his eyes glinted. “I affect you that badly, huh?”

She kept her expression neutral, determined not give him anything. “Hardly. It’s a matter of professionalism.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sugar. Okay, what else?”

“What happened eleven years ago is off-limits. That’s over and done with and I’m not going back.”

Ash narrowed his eyes and for a minute it felt like he could see right through her. “Anything else?”

“I’m your nurse and my purpose is only to administer your treatment. Nothing more.”

“Okay. Got it.” Then, much to her surprise, he abruptly stepped back and turned toward the door. “Come on, Lizzie girl. Let’s go.”

Got it? That’s all he was going to say? She’d expected… Well, she didn’t know exactly what she’d expected but certainly not a two-word capitulation.

“So you’re agreeing, then?” she asked, just to make sure.

Already halfway to the door, he paused and turned back to her. Grinned. “To a challenge like that? Who wouldn’t? Now, are you coming or what?”

Chapter Four

Ash ignored the sounds of faint spluttering going on behind him as he stepped out of the cottage. Lizzie was clearly not happy with his response to her laying down the law.

Too bad. He had no problem with the fact that she wanted her own set of rules—hell, since he’d blackmailed her into coming with him it seemed only fair—but she had to remember that following rules wasn’t his strong point. Getting around them was. And he was going to get around hers. Especially the one about the past.

Behind him he could hear her footsteps, rushing to catch up with him. “So you’re just going to put on scrubs? That’s your plan?”

“Sure. Or a white coat. Hey, I could be one of the doctors even.”

“Since we only have three doctors and they’re well known, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

Ash paused by the door into the clinic and held it open for her. “You have a better plan?”

“Actually I do. Follow me.”

She set off down the corridor, walking purposefully, and he couldn’t help grinning as he followed. Even all those years ago she liked taking charge, getting things in order. Her bedroom had been a monument to tidiness and neatness. Such a contrast to the chaos of the Misty Mansion and her mother’s life.

Looked like some things hadn’t changed.

Down the corridor a little way was a door. Lizzie paused outside it. “Wait here,” she said. “I won’t be a moment.”

A minute later she came back out with a jacket and cap. “Put these on.” She held them out. “Ramon’s just about as big as you are so it should fit.”

He looked at the clothing. “Security guard? You’re kidding me.”

“We’ve had security outside since last night. The press will have gotten used to their presence by now so they’re not going to look too hard at a guard escorting me to my car.”

She had a point. He shrugged off his leather jacket, handed it to her, then put on the security guard jacket. It was tight across the shoulders but it would do. He put on the cap and his shades. “How’s that?”

The look in her eyes flickered. “It’ll do. But those bandages on your face are pretty obvious.”

“Good point.” He thought a moment. “Let me call Sam. See if we can’t arrange a diversion to make sure there aren’t any press hanging around the staff entrances.”

“Like what?”

He gave her a grin. “You’ll see.”

A couple of minutes later, a decoy car and look-alike organized, Ash followed Lizzie as she did her handover and talked things over with her colleagues. He got a couple of surreptitious glances but no one approached him, giving him a few moments to observe her doing her job.

He kind of got now why Helen hadn’t been happy when he’d told her that Lizzie would have to remain with him for the next few weeks. She was obviously very good at what she did. But try as she might to disguise her responses to him with professionalism, he knew he got to her. She could pretend she was cool, calm, and in control all she liked, but the fact was he still affected her. Her responses to him back in the cottage had told him all he needed to know about that.

Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie got her stuff—a small backpack—from the staff locker area and began to lead him toward the staff entrance. “We’ll go out this way.” She raised a brow. “Your diversion happening yet?”

Ash dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. Sure enough, there was a text from Sam telling him to stand by. “Any minute now.”

Five minutes later, the sounds of shouting echoed through the corridors. “What did you do?” Lizzie asked.

“Decoy car and look-alike. Come on, we’ve got about five minutes before they realize it isn’t me.” He moved in front of her as they approached the door. “Security guard goes first.” Pushing it open, he took a look outside. The staff entrance was to the side of the building where the staff parking lot was, out of sight of the main entrance, and it looked like the coast was clear. The diversion had obviously attracted anyone staking out side entrances.

He gave a cursory scan around at the trees and bushes surrounding the parking lot to make sure, but there were no telltale glints of sun off camera lenses there, either.

“You’re good to go,” he said, stepping aside to let her out.

Ash followed Lizzie to her car, which turned out to be something small and white and Japanese. Typical. This was just the kind of car he’d thought she’d drive.

“You really drive this heap?” he muttered as she unlocked the doors.

“We can’t all have Ferraris, you know.”

“I don’t drive a Ferrari. I drive a—”

“A Bugatti Veyron? Yes, I know. Which you bought after you crashed your Ferrari.” She pulled open the door.

He really should be feeling annoyed because although it was true—he had crashed his Ferrari—that had been more than six months ago and he hadn’t so much as dinged the paintwork of the Veyron. But he didn’t feel annoyed. Like back in the cottage, he only felt pleased. “So you have been reading about me.”

“Not intentionally. It was on every single TV channel. It wasn’t like I could avoid it.”

“I don’t take the Veyron out much these days. But I’ve got a Harley you might like.”

“I probably won’t like. Cars and motorcycles do nothing for me.”

“Then you haven’t been riding in the right cars or motorcycles.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get in, Ash.”

Automatically he began to move toward the driver’s side and then realized Lizzie was still standing there.

“Excuse me?” she said coolly. “You’re on the wrong side. This is my car. I drive.”

Oh, she was definitely punishing him. Good thing he didn’t mind. Good thing it also had tinted windows.

He gave her a grin. “Whatever you say, nurse.”

Lizzie snorted.

There weren’t any paparazzi hanging around the gates as Lizzie drove carefully out of the parking lot. Seemed like Ash’s diversion had worked even better than he’d hoped.

As soon as they hit the Pacific Coast Highway, Ash felt the tension inside him begin to unwind. Fantastic. He’d avoided the press, which meant he still had a chance at this audition. Okay, so he’d have to lie low at home for a while, but the most important thing of all was that he had her. He had Lizzie back again.

Satisfied on a level he hadn’t felt for years, he opened the window and leaned back in his seat, the salty ocean breeze coming in, the view of the sea sparkling out to his right.

“Well,” he said, putting his hands behind his head. “That worked.”

“So far. We still have to get to your place. What if there’s still press waiting around there?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” He tried stretching his legs out and failed. “This is a ridiculously sized car.”

She didn’t even glance at him, her gaze fixed on the road ahead of her. “It’s economical.”

“It’s way too small.”

“Funnily enough, I didn’t buy it with you in mind.”

“Gets you from A to B, huh?”

“Exactly. By the way, you’d better close that window if you want to remain anonymous. Also, it’s blowing my hair.”

Ash sighed. And did the window up.

The sun coming through the front had caught the strands of red in Lizzie’s dyed brown hair, making it look like she had a headful of smoldering flame beneath a scattering of earth.

Interesting thought. Eleven years ago she’d been a brightly burning fire, but not so much now. Now she kept those flames hidden beneath brown dye and a blue uniform. Beneath a cool front and a calm manner. But he was willing to bet those flames were still there.

“So where are we headed?”

“Santa Monica.”

“Nice.”

“Expensive.”

“That, too. You have your own place?”

“Yes. It’s small but it’s mine.”

“You seem to do small a lot.”

“We can’t all be movie stars with millions of dollars.”

“No, but if you’d stayed, you might have been married to one.” Possibly not the best thing to say but he couldn’t help himself. She had an answer to everything and it was starting to get on his nerves.

Tension settled into her posture, a crease appearing between her brows. “I’m assuming you’re not expecting an answer to that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, not the slightest bit apologetic. “That was a rule, wasn’t it?”

“You’re not sorry about at all,” she said levelly. “But if you must know I’m happy with my job. I’m happy with my life.”

He studied her. “You don’t regret leaving?”

“Nice try.”

“So the direct approach won’t work, huh?”

“Nope.”

“You look beautiful today.”

“And neither will flattery.” She glanced at him. “If you want to talk about something we could go with the weather.”

“Do I look like I want to talk about the weather?”

“Then how about you be quiet and let me drive.”

There weren’t many people these days who told him to be quiet, let alone a little woman with freckles on her nose. But then she’d always been strong, even at seventeen. Strong enough to tell him she didn’t need his protection from the bullies at school, that she could handle them herself. At least she had until the attention she’d started to receive after the episode of her mother’s show had aired got to be too much.

“Nobody tells me what to do, sugar,” he said lazily, more to mess with her than anything else.

“Well, maybe they should. You could use a little less hot air in that ego of yours.”

No one ever talked back to him like that either. He was A-list. They all kissed his butt. Then again, he had to admit, it was sort of thrilling to be around someone who didn’t give a shit about the fact that he was a star.

He grinned at her. “My ego is just fine, thank you very much.”

Lizzie just shook her head and turned her attention back to the road.

…

Perhaps Ash was right. Perhaps she should have gotten a bigger car. Because having him sitting sprawled all hulking and massive next to her, one muscular thigh nearly brushing against hers, made the vehicle seem even more minuscule than it actually was.

What on earth had made her put him in that security guard jacket? As if she needed another reminder of the past. Of how irresistible he’d been when her mother had told her he was going to be her own personal security guard. She hadn’t wanted to fall for him back then—she’d already had a grandstand view of how guys treated women by that stage—yet he’d been nothing but respectful. The perfect gentleman. And because she’d only been seventeen and he was the first man who’d ever shown an actual interest in her as a person, she’d fallen for him like a ton of bricks.

But not now. Definitely not now.

No. Absolutely not. The past was over with, especially that particular past.

She drove home as though driving was the most important task she’d ever done. All her concentration on the road and on other drivers. Pedestrians. Ladies taking their wiener dogs for a walk. Rollerbladers. Cyclists. Hell, anyone who didn’t happen to be Ash Kincaid.

It felt like forever before she finally pulled up outside her apartment building. “Why don’t you stay here,” she said, reaching for her backpack. “I won’t be long.” She so didn’t want him in her apartment. It was her refuge, her safe place. And to have him in it just felt too…too…exposing somehow.

“I don’t think so,” Ash said aggravatingly.

“You don’t have to come up. I can—”

“No, Lizzie. Less chance of anyone spotting me if I’m inside.”

Dammit. “Okay, fine.”

Annoyed and struggling not to show it, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and got out of the car, conscious of him behind her as she went up the stairs to her apartment.

“Nice place,” he murmured.

She put the key in the lock, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing really close behind her. And the heat from his body was doing weird things to her insides. “Don’t tell me, it’s a little small, right?”

“Hey, I didn’t say a word.”

Lizzie shoved the door open. “Good plan. Stick with that, please.”

Her apartment still felt the same—the sun streaming through the windows, turning the place into her oasis of calm. When she’d first bought the apartment—the first big thing she’d actually owned—she’d spent a whole week repainting the interior and sanding the wooden floors. Turning what had been dark and poky into a clean, white expansive space. The wage she got from Helen was pretty good and she’d been able to buy herself a few nice pieces of furniture: A long, low plain oatmeal-colored couch that she’d scattered bright cushions over. A few Turkish rugs in reds and blues. An Indian coffee table in dark wood. A matching bookcase that was almost overflowing with books.

And yet now the place she’d always felt at home in felt different. As if having Ash here changed the atmosphere. Turned it into something tense and uncomfortable.

He went past her, stepping into the room and doing the thing he’d done back in the cottage, taking off his sunglasses and prowling around the room like a panther, checking things out. “I like it,” he said, pausing by the coffee table. “It’s very…”

“I don’t really care whether you like it or not. Can you not touch anything, please?”

He’d picked up a magazine from the coffee table and was flicking idly through it. “I’m just looking through a magazine, sugar. Chill out.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

But he ignored her, turning and sprawling down on the couch, his long legs extended in front of him. “Why don’t you go and get your stuff together? I’ll just sit here with…” He flicked to the front of the magazine. “Nursing Today. Fascinating stuff.”

Arguing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, she could see that right now. Well, okay, she’d just get on with it. The quicker she got everything together, the quicker he’d be out of here.

The quicker you’ll be trapped in his house with him.

Lizzie ignored the thought as she stalked into the bedroom to get some clothes together. She was his nurse, nothing more. Though really, now that she came to think about it, what the hell was she going to do when she wasn’t nursing? The treatment he’d need wasn’t going to take all day, which would leave her sitting around twiddling her thumbs.

This was insane. This whole idea of his crazy. Perhaps she could call Helen? Talk to her. Surely Helen wasn’t happy with her going off for a couple of weeks to act as personal nurse to an egotistical Hollywood bad boy? She’d explain how Ash had blackmailed her. Helen would be sympathetic, right?