Rapture Renegades Book 7 Read online

  “Oh no.” She waggled a finger at him. “That’s what they want you to think. That’s how they get their candids, by lying in wait with a telephoto lens the length of my arm. You may not be worried about them catching a picture of us, but I am.”

  He frowned and tipped his head. “Why?”

  “Because while your career is all about being seen, mine is all about being invisible.”

  He pulled in a breath to respond, but held it. Connections clicked off behind his eyes. “You really think it would matter?”

  “I know it would matter. Stars create enough drama. The last thing a director needs is a controversial crew. I’m in demand because I’m easy to work with, and I don’t screw around with my coworkers.”

  “You’re in demand because you’re a kick-ass stuntwoman.”

  “My skills may get me in the door, but my professionalism keeps me working. How many jobs do you think I’d get if I slept around with the cast or crew?”

  Chase let out a long exhale. The spark in his eyes faded. “I get it.” He stroked her cheeks one more time. “Tonight, then. We won’t be coworkers anymore. I’ll pull you into a closet at the wrap party.”

  As much as she wanted to cross that line with Chase, Zahara knew this wouldn’t be the last time they worked together. Which would make sleeping with him—even after this film had wrapped—a really bad idea and against all her self-imposed rules. Rules that had brought her a level of success she’d never believed possible.

  But she wasn’t going to get into that here or now. If she started arguing with him, they’d never get topside. “Let’s talk about it tonight. Now, just tell Matt to pull us up.”

  His mouth tipped into an adorable, come-on little smile. “Not even one kiss?”

  Zahara kissed her own fingers, then laid them against his lips.

  Chase covered her hand with his, holding her fingers against his lips as he returned the kiss. Then he threaded their fingers, dropped his head back, and yelled, “Pull us up, Matt. We’ve got a wrap party waiting.”

  2

  Chase watched the lights of downtown Los Angeles pass through the car window and ran his hand down the thigh of his slacks again. Thankfully, his Uber driver wasn’t a chatty guy, and alternative rock played on the radio.

  Hope and fear over the night ahead tangled in his chest, a devious vine invading his lungs and wringing his heart. He was too invested. He wanted her too badly. And it wasn’t about the sex either.

  Okay, yeah, it was sort of about the sex. Hell, how could a man look at her and not think about sex? Even the thought of the thought pushed blood between his legs, hot and prickly. But there was so much more between them. And that was where the nerves came in. Chase honestly didn’t know how long it would take him to get over her if she wouldn’t give them a chance. He was already dreading the weeks, maybe months, he would be left to his own devices before the next role came around. Normally, he enjoyed his downtime between gigs, but after being with Zahara practically every day for the last two months, he couldn’t imagine his days without her.

  His cell rang, and he looked at the display. Mom. He considered answering, using a conversation with her to distract him from his nerves, but the driver slowed in front of the building where the movie’s producer kept a penthouse, so Chase sent the call to voicemail.

  He tipped the driver and stood from the car. The early fall evening was warm, the night air buzzing with downtown activity. He tugged at his suit jacket and entered the foyer. He really didn’t want to suffer through this party, but he knew it was the last time he and Zahara would be obligated to be in the same place at the same time. And he had a feeling trying to pin her down after this would take a damn team of mercenaries.

  He stepped into the empty elevator and took a deep breath to ease the tension singing through his cells. He watched the floor numbers light up as he ascended and rolled his shoulders. “Shit, this is worse than my first audition.”

  He hoped winning her over now that they weren’t working together wouldn’t be as difficult as his gut predicted. She seemed equally impenetrable to charm and raw attraction. He honestly didn’t know what it would take to get her rules to bend.

  With his mind so hyper focused on Zahara, he was a little disoriented when he finally made it to the thirty-seventh floor and stepped off the elevator into a sea of people and music.

  Wandering through the crowd, he was greeted with congratulations and handshakes. He passed the bar and was handed a drink. Stopped by production company elites asking for a few minutes of his time tonight.

  Chase found a place at the end of the bar where he could have more than a few inches of space and paused there to take a sip of his unknown drink. The tartness of grapefruit and the sting of vodka blended in his mouth, then seared his throat. He choked on the ratio of alcohol to juice and was about to put the drink down when his gaze found Zahara.

  She stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, chatting with a couple of her Renegades buddies and a few of the supporting actors on the film—all men. The ease with which she owned her place in that circle impressed the hell out of him. And, yeah, maybe it unnerved him a little too. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so drawn to her. She was so damn together. So strong. So smart. So freaking levelheaded. She didn’t do drama. Worked her very fine ass off every day. Never complained. Got along with everyone. And as much as he hated the fact that she wouldn’t date him while they worked together, he also respected her focus and her values.

  For a split second, Chase wondered if he’d know what to do with such a self-confident, self-possessed woman in the bedroom. The thought of finding out streaked fire through his gut, and all his uncertainty vanished. When he finally had Zahara in his arms, their chemistry would take over.

  As if she sensed him, her gaze skimmed the room and almost immediately landed on him. Then held. Tingles raced across his shoulders. A fist squeezed his gut. She thrilled and terrified him at once.

  She smiled. One of her go-ahead-handsome-give-it-your-best-shot smiles. Damn, she challenged him. And she knew it. He loved it. And she knew that too.

  She held an almost-empty wineglass in one hand, the other resting on the arm of a white leather sofa. Her dress was simple and black, yet mouthwatering, filled out by her body. Her raven-black hair was down, sleek and shiny with one sparkly clip holding her long bangs out of her dark eyes. A thin silver chain hung on her wrist. She was simplicity and strength personified in one stunning package.

  The buzz of nerves revved through his body, and Chase realized he was in real trouble here.

  Trouble if he did. Trouble if he didn’t.

  Instead of dumping the drink, he downed the whole thing in one swallow, wincing at the burn.

  When he found Zahara again, she tilted her head as if to say, What are you doing over there?

  Michel, the film’s director, joined her group. Zahara smiled and kissed his cheek. Michel said something that made everyone laugh. He should go over and schmooze. Kiss up to Michel and open a conversation about future roles. But Chase wasn’t interested in socializing tonight. At least not with anyone but Zahara. He decided to wait until she was in a more private situation to approach her.

  The instant he saw Phoebe, his costar in the film Chilled headed toward him, Chase regretted that decision.

  “You finally made it.” She stepped directly into his personal space and curved a hand around his arm. Then she pushed up on her toes. Chase realized she was going to kiss him on the lips, and at the last second, he turned his head just enough for her lips to brush past his own and land on his cheek.

  “I finally made it,” he said.

  Phoebe frowned at him. “Chase, seriously? After having our tongues down each other’s throats in the film, you can’t give me a proper kiss?”

  The comment was so Phoebe, taking an awkward situation and making it worse.

  “That was Michel,” he said, referencing the film’s director. “He’s all about si
zzle on the screen.”

  She smiled and ran her fingers under the lapels of his blazer and rubbed up against him. “Come on, you had to feel something. We should explore it. Come to my place after the party?”

  No way in Satan’s inferno of hell. “Sorry, Phoebe, that’s not going to happen.”

  “What’s not going to happen?” Zahara’s voice startled Chase. A minute ago, she was across the room, fully involved in conversation. Now she stood to his left, her shoulder against a marble pillar.

  “Nothing,” came out of Chase’s mouth before he could finesse it.

  Phoebe harrumphed and shot him a pouty scowl, then turned away.

  All his muscles relaxed. “Thanks,” he told Zahara. “I owe you one.”

  She just smiled. And, God, she looked so stunningly perfect standing there, openly, charmingly, sexily grinning at him. Up close, she was even more beautiful. On the set, she only wore makeup when a scene called for it. Wore leggings and a tank top unless she was in costume to double Phoebe. But somehow, he’d known this side of her before he’d ever seen it. He’d known her chocolate eyes would pop with a little mascara. Known her lips would glisten with a little gloss. But the whole effect, her hair, her dress, the light that burned inside her, made him a little light-headed. Or maybe that was the alcohol taking effect. All Chase knew was a streak of white-hot desire burned a direct path from his heart to his gut.

  “Damn,” he breathed. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful.”

  “Thank you. You always look great.” She stroked her hand down his chest, then pulled back. “So, what’s next for you?”

  You. I hope.

  Though the topic and her tone both indicated she had her walls up again. The intimacy they’d shared during the stunt just hours ago was now tucked away in some secret space.

  He struggled a moment, trying to decide on whether to call her on it or let it go and ease back in another way.

  “Next,” he said, deciding on the latter. “Well, I’m meeting with my agent next week. He says he’s got a few possibilities. I have a few acting workshops lined up to fill the gap until something new comes along.”

  “Are the workshops with anyone fun?”

  “One with Glenn Close.”

  “Glenn’s great,” she said, reaching out and sliding her fingers down the line of buttons on his dress shirt. An absent-minded move on her part, but one that zinged awareness along the path of her touch. “You’ll love her.”

  “Another week with Samuel Jackson.”

  “Oh my God.” Her gaze came up, and the sparkle in her dark eyes charmed him. “He’s amazing. You’re going to laugh your ass off.”

  He shook his head. “You know everyone.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “What about you?” he asked. “Where do you go next?”

  “Chicago. I leave Monday. Doubling Reese Witherspoon. It’ll only take a week.”

  The small talk finally drifted away, but they stayed right there, staring at each other. The intimacy she constantly tried to push away slid right back in, expanding the space between them with warm emotions and thrilling sensations.

  “I can hear you arguing with yourself.” He wanted to touch her but sensed she’d pull back.

  “Over what?”

  “Whether to step toward me or away.”

  Her mouth tipped in a smile. “And I can see your mind working to keep the latter from happening.”

  “Do you talk to everyone this way?”

  Her smile deepened to a grin, but something unsure passed through her eyes, something that made her look younger. More vulnerable. “It’s weird, right?”

  “It’s definitely different.”

  “It happens with my stunt guys sometimes. When we’re working, we sort of have to be in each other’s heads, you know?”

  “The way we were today.”

  She nodded. Her gaze slid back to the buttons of his shirt.

  Silence crept back in. This time more tense than comfortable. So much floated between them unsaid.

  Chase went for casual to get them talking again. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Catching up on rest. A few light workouts to warm up for the next job.” She met his eyes. “You?”

  I’m doing you, he wanted to say. All you. All the time.

  He wanted her to take that rest in his bed. Wanted their weekend to start right now with dinner, sex, and sleep. Followed by more sex and more sleep. And repeat that pattern for two more days. Because he knew that idea would earn him nothing but a good laugh, he decided to start small by offering to work out with her. Right now, he’d do anything to keep seeing her every day.

  But Amanda, an intern on the production crew, approached with a friendly hello and offered Chase a handful of messages. “From various magazines requesting interviews. I didn’t have your agent’s information on hand, so I figured I’d just give them to you.”

  He took the messages, shocked at the sheer number of requests. He shot Zahara a can-you-believe-this look, then thanked Amanda.

  When the intern wandered away, Chase glanced at the names of the media outlets on the messages. “Holy shit.” His surprise pulled Zahara closer as she read the notes with him. Fuck, she smelled good. “TMZ. E! Entertainment Tonight?”

  “Get used to it,” Zahara murmured with that sassy little smile. One he wanted to kiss off her beautiful face. “Stardom’s gonna hit soon, Layton. Real soon. And it’s gonna hit hard.”

  He folded the messages and pushed them into the pocket of his blazer. Zahara was the only thing he wanted to focus on tonight.

  Facing her, he leaned his shoulder against the same pillar. “I’m still just a struggling wannabe right now, completely infatuated with this kick-ass stunt chick who’s so totally out of my league.”

  She hummed a little aren’t-you-adorable murmur, her gaze lowering to his mouth.

  Chase couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to touch her. Considering the company, he went for subtle and secret. He lowered his hand closest to the pillar, slid his fingers across her palm, and loosely threaded them with hers. Friction sparked tingles up his arm, pumping excitement through his veins.

  Her gaze softened and lowered. When she didn’t pull out of his grasp, he breathed a little easier.

  “The rules have changed, yeah?” he asked

  Her lashes lifted, and she looked directly into his eyes. Hers were so dark, he could barely distinguish the iris from the pupil. They were warm and intelligent and sweet, just like Zahara. Intimacy wrapped around them, cloaking them in a private moment brimming with possibility.

  “My rules haven’t changed,” she told him. “But our circumstances obviously have.”

  Hope and relief streamed through his chest and loosened his limbs. He laughed. “I’m barely holding myself together here, girl.”

  She squeezed his hand, but her expression sobered. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I admire you. Your talent aside, your work ethic and your warmth… You’re really special, Chase.”

  Those words would have made his heart soar if it weren’t for the heavy “but” ready to drop. “That means a lot to me, especially coming from someone I respect so much.”

  Her gaze flicked away, and she licked her lips. It was her tell, the gesture she made just before she had to tell someone something uncomfortable. He’d seen it several times on set. “I’ve been thinking…”

  All the air left his lungs, and his stomach dropped.

  “Baby…” The word slipped out half whine, half warning.

  She met his gaze again. “You know how we’ve talked about relationships? About people and their affairs and how those get reflected on their reputations?”

  He tightened his fingers on hers. “That’s not us.”

  “It could be. Way too easily. And it could happen so fast, we wouldn’t even know until it was too late.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Frustration leaked into his voice. “You know we’
re good together."

  “We are. As friends, as coworkers, we’re magic. I don’t want to lose that, Chase. I care about you. I know we’ll work together again, and I want it to be as great then as it has been the last couple of months.”

  “Being together and working together don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

  “They do for me. I’m sorry. I really am.” Her mind was made up; he could hear it in her voice. “I just don’t think this is smart. Not for me. For you, it’s no big deal. No matter what happens between us, it won’t affect your career. Men bounce back, like you did with Lila,” she said, referencing his ex and their messy ending. “Women…every wrong move sticks to us. And like I said, for me, it’s even riskier than for most.”

  “Risk is what you do. Risk is your life.”

  “No,” she said, serious and resolute. “It may look like risk on the face, but security is built into every stunt. My life is about minimizing risks, not taking them.”

  He exhaled heavily. “Come on, Z. This could be something different. Something big. Something we’d look back on and regret not going after.”

  She leaned her head against the pillar. “Or it could be the most reckless move I could take. There’s only one industry for stunts. And that industry is all about reputation and contacts. This is a one-time-chance career. The moment I ruin it, I ruin it.”

  He groaned and dropped his head. Hell, if one of his sisters were in Zahara’s situation, he would tell her to take three giant steps back and look at things again with her career longevity in mind. But right now, all he wanted to do was tell Zahara to leap and promise to catch her.

  “You’re such a dreamer.” She pulled her hand from his and stroked her knuckles along the stubble on his jaw. Warm sensations trailed down his neck. “So fresh. So optimistic. I love it, Chase. I do. But I’ve been in this industry a lot longer that you have. I’ve seen bad shit happen to really good people. And I’m the only person I have to depend on.”

  “What about me? You can depend on me.”

  “Be realistic. We’ve known each other two months.”