His phone rang, the sound of the “Funeral March” telling him his boss was calling.
Sod it. Just what I need. An angry Nick on my arse.
“What the fuck is going on?”
It was Nigel McQueen’s shout that made them all flinch. Chris stumbled back a step, Aslin releasing his fist as he did so. To Aslin, the actor looked shell-shocked. Guttered. “Rhodes…” Chris began, shaking his head even as he continued to glare at Aslin. “The fucking prick—”
“Enough, Chris,” Rowan snapped. She shoved at his chest, straightening between them, her back to Aslin. “That’s enough. I can have sex with whomever I want, whenever I want. Got it?”
The film’s director frowned at her. “Who are you having sex with, Rowan?”
In Aslin’s pocket, his phone fell silent, Nick no doubt giving up.
Thank effing God for that.
“Aslin,” Rowan shot back. “I mean, I’m not having sex with Aslin. But I…we almost…Jesus. This is no one’s business but mine and Aslin’s.”
Movement from the corner of Aslin’s eye made him turn. He watched Chris’s assistant hurry over to Nigel, iPad in hand. Tilly tugged at Nigel’s sleeve, holding the tablet out to him to show what was on it.
Nigel’s eyebrows shot up, his attention fixed on the screen. “Nice bike.”
Aslin drew in a slow breath, returning his focus to Chris. “Thanks.”
The actor snarled, his stare dropping to Rowan. “You know what’s funny about this, sis?”
“What, Chris?”
Aslin’s gut clenched at the anguish he heard in Rowan’s voice.
Chris’s glare turned black. “You spend all your time lecturing me about behaving like a real person, about not doing stupid things just because I’m a celebrity, and you go and let a celebrity bodyguard feel you up and dry hump you in a hospital car park while I’m in said hospital on a freaking drip.” He flicked Aslin a scowl. “How fucking hilarious is that? Might ask the writers to incorporate it into an episode of Twice Too Many next season.”
With a final look at Aslin, hurt betrayal etching his face, he stormed into his trailer and slammed the door shut.
A prickling sensation told Aslin everyone in the crowd was now looking at him. He refused to look at any of them. Instead, he waited for Rowan. What happened next was her call. He knew what he wanted to do—tell everyone to mind their own sodding business, but this wasn’t his world. This was the movie industry, and the movie industry was a world unto itself. He knew the rock industry. He knew the world of war. What happened next had to be Rowan’s play, for her brother’s sake. And hers.
She stood motionless for a long moment. Nigel stood before her, the iPad handed to him by Tilly showing everyone who cared to look the images Holston had captured of Aslin and Rowan in the hospital parking lot.
“Rowan?” the director’s voice was low. Curious.
She let out a ragged breath. “Fuck.” With a shake of her head, she turned, glanced up at Aslin and then walked over to Chris’s trailer, stopping briefly to say something to Tilly at the base of the steps before climbing to the door.
No one said anything as she knocked once, called Chris’s name and then slipped inside.
That prickling sensation razed over Aslin again. He didn’t move. Kept his stare on Nigel McQueen. He’d cut his teeth on the slums of London, fought for his life in Iraq and Afghanistan and spent a decade and a half guarding Nick Blackthorne from crazy fans. The speculative attention of curious film folk didn’t perturb him in the slightest.
What Rowan thinks of you, though…what Chris does…
He ground his teeth.
Nigel frowned. “Why was the paparazzo following you?”
Aslin bit back a sigh. “Holston and I have history. He’s been tailing Nick for as long as Nick’s been in the public eye. It didn’t take Holston long to realize ninety percent of the time, wherever I was, Nick was too. I suspect he was lurking in the emergency department’s waiting room along with the other paparazzi and saw me arrive with Rowan. Nick Blackthorne’s bodyguard and Chris Huntley’s sister would be too much to resist for scum like him.” He paused. “Unfortunately, he saw more than he should have.”
Nigel’s frown deepened. “Look, Mr. Rhodes.” He stepped toward Aslin, passing the iPad to his assistant as he did so. “I know you can probably snap me in two with your bare hands, but I just want to say I really like Rowan. I’ve known her for a while, ever since she was my twin daughters’ Taekwondo instructor. She loves her brother more than life and will do everything in her power to keep him safe. Bringing you in was meant to be good for him. I had it on Nick Blackthorne’s word you were going to be good for him, and I think you are, but after this…” He let out a slow breath. “I’m prepared to let you stay on if she is. I like her, my girls like her, hell, even my wife likes her, but she’s not as tough as she pretends to be. And I may only be a film director, but I would do everything in my power to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”