His cock throbbed.
Christ, his sexual need was well and truly evoked just thinking about it.
Then do something about it. Once and for all.
“I can,” he said, stepping to stand directly in front of her. He gazed down at her, the subtle scent of her perfume, the delicate kiss of her body heat teasing his senses. “But tell me, what’s going to happen when we get there?”
For a moment, it looked like Rowan wasn’t going to answer. She looked away, her jaw bunched, her stare fixed on the shadows behind her brother’s trailer. “I don’t know,” she finally said, her voice a low husky whisper.
The urge to capture her lips with his almost undid Aslin’s control. He stood motionless, his blood roaring in his ears, his heart hammering in his chest. “You can’t fight this forever, Rowan.”
She let out a strangled chuckle. “I’m not in Australia forever.”
“All the more reason not to fight it.”
His answer was arrogant. Dominating. He knew that. But Christ, his control was being pushed to its limit. He studied her profile, watching the conflict raging war on her mind and body pull her eyebrows in a deep frown. He almost kissed her, just to ease her stress.
But stopped, just as the muscles in his lower back began to flex.
No. He couldn’t. Not while she was so torn. Not while he was so aroused. If he kissed her now, he wouldn’t stop.
Straightening, he turned and crossed the dimly lit stretch of pavement to Chris’s trailer. Another urge was twisting through him, one that had everything to do with Rowan and nothing to do with sexual hunger. He wanted to enter her brother’s on-set residence first. He’d spent his life listening to his gut and his gut was telling him there was something off.
He hadn’t let himself think about the disturbed trailer steps. Hadn’t allowed himself to ponder the fact they’d been moved on purpose. His concentration had been too distracted by Rowan. But now he was here…
Pausing at the steps, he ran a narrow-eyed inspection over them.
“Someone had to unscrew them,” Rowan said beside him, her voice low. Serious.
He inclined his head, casting her a quick look.
“I had the same thought you did when it first happened.” A soft snort escaped her. “In fact, I was pissed about that fact. Still am. A little.”
Aslin cocked an eyebrow at her.
She shrugged. “I’m competitive. What can I say?”
He suppressed the smile wanting to play with his lips. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your brother?”
She shook her head.
Aslin’s gut clenched. Without another word, he climbed into the trailer.
It looked the same as it had the last time he was in there, with the exception the icepack he’d used earlier on his Rowan-punched balls was nowhere to be seen, and the bottle of water Chris had been drinking from was no longer sitting on the small table.
Tilly, no doubt.
Three lamps threw soft yellow light around the space, causing shadows to leap and dance over the walls as Aslin moved deeper into the trailer.
His gut clenched some more.
Off. It felt off.
But there’s nothing wrong here, boyo.
There wasn’t. But that didn’t make him feel any less on edge.
A noise behind him told him Rowan had followed him inside. “I’ll just grab my bag and we can go,” she said as he turned to face her. “Tilly gave me everything else I need.”
He watched her scoop her backpack up from the trailer’s luxurious leather sofa and hook its straps over her over shoulders. Even in such a simple action, her body moved with fluid strength. He couldn’t help but be impressed. If he had a checklist of every attribute his woman should have, Rowan Hemsworth met them all.
Christ, what are you, Rhodes? A caveman?
He wasn’t. He was intelligent, educated and level-headed. But everything about Rowan—everything—brought out a primitive male response in him. The kind that wanted nothing more than to snare a fistful of her hair, drag her back to his cave and claim her as his mate. Solely his mate. And heaven help anyone who wanted to argue with him about that fact.
“Ready?”
Rowan studied him. If she was aware how close he was to slamming the door shut and throwing her on the bed, she didn’t show it.
He inclined his head.
A security guard met them as they were exiting the trailer, a torch beam drilling into Aslin’s eyes. Rowan flashed her Dead Even film set pass at him a second before the man apologized and directed the light at their feet.
“Do you have a pass, sir?”
Aslin pulled his own pass from his back pocket and held it out to the guard.
The man bathed the plastic I.D. card in white light for a moment. “Thanks, Mr. Rhodes,” he said, lifting his scrutiny to Aslin’s face. “Don’t forget to check in with the gate guard when you leave.”