MARKED (Hunter Awakened) (5 page)

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Authors: Rascal Hearts

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BOOK: MARKED (Hunter Awakened)
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Well, almost everything in some cases. I knew
for a fact that most of those 'fell in love on set' couples were
nothing but publicity. Neither person was dating anyone, so the
network or studio or whoever decided that it would be good press
for everyone to think that they were a real couple. I'd heard one
executive suggest it about me and Bryson Jackson, my character's
love interest on the show, and I'd laughed.

Somehow, I didn't think Bryson's boyfriend of
three years would've been game for that even though he was a real
sweetheart in general. While Bryson wasn't openly declaring his
sexuality, he'd never hidden it. He wasn't like some of the other
guys and girls who used those arranged couplings as ways to hide
who they really were. When I'd been on
Never Enough
, the
girl who played my oldest sister and the boy who played her best
friend had been a set up couple.

Both just barely seventeen when the show
started, they'd had everyone fooled the entire run of the show. The
day our final shot wrapped, they both came out to the cast and crew
before heading out to a press conference their agents had arranged.
The backlash had been insane. Funnily enough, most people had been
more upset that they'd lied than about their sexuality than about
the fact that they were gay.

My thoughts turned back to the romantic
dynamic of Hollywood. There was one group left: the pretty couples.
They weren't the big names like the media darlings, but they were
the good-looking actors, or whatever, who never got the attention
they deserved because they didn't do crazy stuff. They generally
ended up with other beautiful people, usually models, dancers or
other actors. It was also okay for a beautiful person to meet
someone else good-looking who had a 'normal' job like teaching or
something like that since their looks made it obvious that they
were in that occupation by choice and not because they were too
ugly to make it in film, music, etc.

Generally, the pretty couples were down to
earth and would never even think that way, but it was the unspoken
fact of celebrity. These were couples with the fairy tale romances
that gave hope to all of the 'regular' people in the world and the
media played them up as such.

As I stepped under the hot spray, I closed my
eyes. I'd never been sure where I fit in the romantic dynamic. A
lot of people thought I was pretty, and I had my fair share of
attention, both from the media and from my peers. I'd been
nominated for awards for movies and television, and had even won a
few of them. There had been a lot of speculation about my love
life, but I'd never really been in a serious enough relationship to
need to worry about classification.

I'd done the on and off dating thing over the
years, none of them lasting over a couple of months. Even when I'd
gotten older and the relationships had become sexual, there'd never
been anything too serious. I'd never dated the bad boys or any of
the big name stars. They'd all been celebrities in some way—two
soccer players, a pop singer, and a couple of models slash
actors—but none had been as recognizable as me.

The break-ups had all been amicable, yet more
examples of how little passion there had been between us. None of
the relationships I'd been in had been anything more than page four
news.

Maybe it was me, I reasoned as I rinsed off.
Maybe I just didn't inspire that kind of intensity in anyone.
That's what made the real power couples and pretty couples stand
out so much. The attraction between them was obvious. Even the fake
couples could make it look real because there was chemistry there.
They just carried it over from the set to real life. I had no
problem playing the chemistry on screen, but I'd never felt it in
real life. There'd never been that spark that I felt straight
through to my soul.

A pair of green eyes popped into my mind and
my stomach gave a pleasurable squirm. I didn't know if I could
classify that as a spark, but I knew I'd felt something towards
Elias. The memory of his hand closing over mine came back with
startling clarity. His fingers had just been rough enough for me to
believe that he did real work with his hands. What would those
hands feel like on my bare skin? Cupping my face? My breast?

I shivered as I toweled off and I knew it
wasn't from the chill in the air. It was all too easy to imagine
what it would be like to have him touching me, his fingers ghosting
over my skin, setting it on fire. I could almost feel him exploring
my body, his palms skimming over my stomach, my ribs, up to the
swell of my breasts.

I pulled on my robe and slid my favorite
slippers onto my feet. As I headed into my bedroom, my mind
continued to wander. His lips were a touch too full for a man, I
realized, almost pouty. Would they be as soft as they looked, or
was there a roughness to them as well? What would they feel like
against mine? Slowly moving together, his tongue teasing at the
corner of my mouth.

A slow burn was spreading through me. It was
dangerous to be thinking about my bodyguard this way. I knew it.
That was a big no-no. You never got involved with your bodyguards,
not romantically. It could make things dangerous. If he was too
focused on you, he couldn't do his job right. Still, I couldn't
seem to stop my thoughts from going back to him, as if they were
drawn there by a power beyond my control.

I settled into bed and picked up my book from
my bedside table. I didn't open it though, my mind elsewhere.

There had been a strength and grace in his
movements that seemed even beyond his physical appearance. I hadn't
realized it before, but he'd moved well for someone of his size.
Most bodyguards who had that broad chest and even broader shoulders
moved a certain way, like football players. Elias hadn't moved like
that. His movements had been graceful, fluid, the way large cats
seemed to be. I had the sudden desire to know what it would be like
to watch his muscles ripple under his skin as he moved, watch them
flex and roll as he walked.

I swallowed hard. The warmth that had been
spreading through me before had converged low in my belly. I'd
never felt arousal so sharp before, and certainly not for someone
who'd I met only once and for such a brief time. This wasn't just
about the cut of his jaw or his well-developed body. This was
something deeper. I'd felt it the moment our eyes had met and the
more I thought about him, the more certain I was that there was a
connection between Elias and I.

I put my book aside. I wasn't going to be
able to concentrate. Not with him in my thoughts. What was it about
him that drew me to him? Why did I feel like I could trust him? I
might have been a hopeless romantic when it came to stories, but I
didn't believe in that in real life. Fate, destiny, sure, but love
at first sight? Come on. I didn't believe in that.

Did I?

 

Chapter Six

 

 

All right, I had to admit it, I really did
feel better after taking a day to rest. Harrison had been right.
I'd needed that day. I grimaced as I looked in the mirror. My
make-up team was going to have fun tonight. There was about as much
discolored flesh on my face as there was of my usual fair
complexion. It looked bad enough that I decided to skip my morning
slash afternoon run. The last thing I needed was the paparazzi
snapping pictures of me looking like I went a couple of rounds
with, well, a car.

I was pretty sure Harrison had already done a
press release about what had happened, but I knew the press. They
were going to have a field day with this, especially since the man
who had attacked me was, as far as I knew, still in the hospital
and the police were no closer to figuring out what had happened.
Although, I couldn't say that I expected them to call me when they
did figure it out. Linden and Thomas didn't exactly seem like the
sharing type.

One look at Kevin's face when he arrived told
me that he already knew what had happened. I didn't know if
Harrison had called him, if Paul had told him at the door or if
he'd found out through the news, but I was just glad I didn't have
to explain it. He didn't comment on it. In fact, the only
indication he gave that he'd even noticed was that we didn't do
anything strenuous, only exercises that focused on flexibility and
balance, just like we did right before or right after a
particularly physical day on set, or if I was ill.

Once we finished, since I didn't have any
errands that needed to be run, I began my usual practice of
studying my scenes for the day. The network had sent over the day's
call sheet since everything had to be changed around due to me not
going in the night before which meant that two of the scenes I'd
been prepared to do were now being shot tomorrow and a romantic
scene between my character and Bryson's was being done tonight.

Time flew past as I became engrossed in my
work and only the alarm on my phone reminded me to eat. After my
light meal, however, I found it much harder to focus, my thoughts
continually straying to that time of the day when Elias would be
coming. I'd never been like this before, nervous and unsure while
waiting for someone. I'd spent my entire life meeting new people as
I moved from one set to another. I didn't remember ever being even
a little anxious.

I'd always had that confidence that came with
having been a success from a young age. I'd heard more than one
story about times when I'd walked on sets like I owned them,
without a trace of trepidation. Now, however, I found that all of
my previous confidence had vanished.

Usually when I dressed for work, I'd keep it
simple and comfortable since I'd be changing into my character's
wardrobe once I got to set. Generally comfortable meant jeans and
either a t-shirt or a sweatshirt, but occasionally I had been known
to show up in something a bit more casual. Most of the time when I
wore something like sweatpants, it was because I wasn't feeling
well. If any day should have afforded me the luxury of casualness,
it was today, but I found myself taking care as I selected my
outfit.

I'd never been one to flirt or dress to
attract attention, but I couldn't help but think about what Elias
might think about each garment I chose. It was funny, really, since
I didn't know him well enough to truly know what he would think,
but I couldn't help but wonder. Would he prefer a fitted blouse or
a nice sweater? Dress pants or jeans? Boots or casual shoes?

After several minutes of indulging in my
thoughts, I shook my head, then winced, immediately regretting the
movement. That hadn't been a very good idea, but the pain cleared
my mind. I needed to focus on doing my job. I didn't have time for
mooning over some guy like a smitten teenager. I hadn't been like
that when I had been a teenager and there was no reason for me to
start now. I'd wear what I always wore.

I may have chosen a pair of casual jeans and
my most comfortable hoodie to wear to work, but I couldn't quite
manage to stop my palms from sweating or my heart from pounding as
I waited for Elias to arrive. What the hell was wrong with me? I
needed to pull myself together.

By the time Elias arrived, I hadn't managed
to completely make myself cool and calm, but I'd at least been able
to harness my acting skills and make myself appear to be composed.
One look at those green eyes, however, and my heart was flipping in
my chest. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I walked towards him
and my face flamed red. Nothing on Elias's face indicated that he'd
seen what had happened or that he noticed my flush, but that didn't
make me feel any less embarrassed.

“Mr. Stevens collected my signature.” His
voice was low, almost sensual, though the words were anything but.
“Is anything else needed before we depart?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to
speak. I kept silent during the ride to the set, staring out the
window in an attempt to appear aloof. I usually tried very hard to
be friendly to my employees, but I didn't trust myself with this
one. Based on the number of times I stole glances at him on the
ride, my concern was justified. To my chagrin, the last time, Elias
caught me. I kept my eyes on the scenery after that. It was going
to be a long night.

Work sucked. I mean, really. It took me
longer than usual to get into character, and I flubbed more lines
in that first scene than I had in the entire previous episode.
Everyone was very understanding, not even showing the slightest
annoyance. All of them were so sweet and nice—well, everyone except
Summer Cooper, but she was pretty much a bitch all of the time—and
they all told me how bad they felt about what had happened to me. I
appreciated their compassion, but I also felt undeniably guilty
because I knew that only part of my problem was the events from two
nights ago. No matter where I was on set, I could feel Elias's eyes
on me.

Throughout the night, Elias was one hundred
percent professional, keeping the background and staying out of the
way. It was almost eerie how still and silent he could be. I got
the sense that he was aware of everything happening around us, that
he never focused on only one specific thing. It made me wonder what
it would be like to have that intensity all directed at one thing,
all directed at me. The thought was almost enough to distract me
again.

Almost.

Despite my strange ability to sense Elias's
presence, I managed to focus on the next scene, and things got
easier. By the time the director was ready to wrap, I was back in
my old rhythm. Now, if only I could keep it through the next two
days, we'd be all good to wrap for Thanksgiving. Not that I was
doing anything for the holiday, but I knew that my friends had
plans and I didn't want to ruin anything for them.

I was still thinking about the upcoming
holidays as Elias drove me home. My parents had always thrown huge
parties for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When I'd been a kid, I'd
loved the parties. We'd always have a massive Thanksgiving feast
that ended with everyone helping decorate the huge mansion I'd
apparently bought when I was a toddler. There were lights and
garlands and ribbons.

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