Muscle for Hire(30)

He paused, but Aslin didn’t fill the silence with anything apart from an unwavering gaze.

“Do you understand?”

Aslin inclined his head.

Nigel let out another breath. “Excellent. Now, I want to talk to you about the next scene we’re shooting today. Chris’s character is going to be ambushed amongst all those hammocks in the convict dormitory. Ricco had choreographed the scene to have the hammock fall down and tangle around Vin’s legs, allowing Chris to apprehend him, but I want to go for something more brutal. Bloody. Can you help me work on that?”

Aslin studied the director for a long moment. Bloody. Brutal. Words he understood very well. He nodded. “I can do that.”

Nigel flashed whiter-than-white teeth at him in a wide smile. “Good, good. Tilly?” He shouted over Aslin’s shoulder, “Can you tell Chris and Rowan we’ll be on set when they get out?” And without waiting for the young woman to respond, he started walking away from Chris’s trailer. “By the way, who was the woman you were holding when I first got here? The one that seemed to enjoy biting you?”

Aslin’s nerve endings crackled at the mention of the zealous fan. He cast a steady look around the area, wondering if she’d gotten away. “A fan,” he said, turning back to Nigel. “A determined one. She was trying to gain access to Chris. Apparently she was thrown off the site yesterday after she was caught pretending to be with catering. Whoever is in charge of security needs to have their arse kicked.”

Nigel clicked his fingers at his assistant walking a few paces behind them. In a hurried step, the young man caught up with them. “I want to talk to Miller,” Nigel snapped. “Find him.”

Aslin continued to walk beside Nigel, forcing his feet to move one in front of the other. He wanted to go back to the trailer. He wanted to apologise to Chris, to Rowan. For all his mightier-than-thou arrogant caveman-thumping behavior to Rowan, he didn’t like to see either her or her brother upset, especially given he was responsible for that pain.

Hadn’t he learnt anything from all his time trying to protect Nick?

You’ve never been so attracted to a woman before, boyo. Never felt such raw, overwhelming desire. What you feel for Rowan has thrown you for a loop. You need to control it before you fuck it up.

Thirty minutes later, during which Aslin instructed Nigel how the fight scene should play out—with the film’s antagonist watching the whole time—Chris walked back onto set. Followed by his assistant. And Rowan.

Aslin’s heart slammed into his throat.

He swallowed, nerves exploding in his gut like a nuke full of butterflies.

Nerves? Christ, you really are falling fast, aren’t you?

When Chris walked over to him, he remained motionless. It was damn near impossible, but he did.

The actor stopped a foot away, his blue stare challenging. Direct. He may have started his career as a sitcom star, but he’d obviously spent a considerable amount of time working out in preparation for this role. He was ripped and sculpted. Anger no doubt flooded his muscles with adrenaline. His fingers curled into a ball at his sides. His legs seemed to tremble with charged energy.

He studied Aslin, unmoving. Silent.

Around them, the set fell to a hush. Even the ubiquitous soundtrack of hammer on nail Aslin had noticed on his first day seemed to stop, as if what was playing out under the cinematographer’s lighting was more important than the building of artificial surrounds.

To the left of Chris, Rowan walked into Aslin’s line of sight. She gave him an unreadable look, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Aslin’s throat tightened. Damn, he wanted to kiss that lip. Bite it. Suck it. Worship it.

Returning his gaze to Chris, he gave the man a brief nod. “You’ve got an impressive right hook on you, Chris.”

The actor narrowed his eyes.

Aslin raised an eyebrow. “Want me to show you how to make it better?”

“Depends.” Chris’s voice was flat. “Are you the punching bag?”

“I can be. Do you want to hit me again?”

“Are you going to touch my sister again like you did on the bike?”

To Chris’s left, Rowan let out a soft groan.

Aslin’s heart thumped hard. He kept his stare on her brother’s face, all too aware that everyone hung on the next words to come out of his mouth. “I plan to,” he said. “But only if she lets me. And I won’t do it in public.”

Chris’s nostrils flared. His jaw bunched. His Adam’s apple jumped up and down his throat.

Aslin saw the punch coming before Chris even lashed out. The actor’s body telegraphed the intent a second before his fist cut through the space between them. Aslin didn’t dodge it. He didn’t block it.