Muscle for Hire(46)
This was completely different. For starters, he was forty-one. But more importantly, it wasn’t just a kiss he was hoping to score when they reached their destination, but a future.
Ah, boyo, it truly does seem that you’re in love.
A few minutes later, minutes passed in silence both delicious and tense, Aslin’s trailer was in front of them.
His pulse quickened, especially when Rowan slipped her fingers from his and slid her arm around his back.
He turned his head to look at her, unable to stop his smile as it stretched his lips.
“Mr. Rhodes?” Someone called behind him and his smile vanished, replaced with an impatient scowl. “Can I have a word?”
Rowan pulled away from him, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll wait for you inside.”
He nodded, fighting the powerful urge to ignore the man calling him—the head of the film’s security—and kiss her witless.
Planting his feet hard to the ground, he watched her walk toward his trailer. She reached for the door, flicking him a quick grin over her shoulder as she twisted the knob.
“Ms. Hemsworth?” he said, his voice loud enough for her to hear his teasing tone. “Come here.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and tugged on the door. “I think you need to learn some—”
Aslin’s trailer exploded in an abrupt detonation of fire, splintering metal and black smoke. Destroying the mobile abode in the space it took Aslin to scream Rowan’s name.
In the time it took her body to fling backward from the blast and land on the ground in a boneless, jarring crunch.
Chapter Eleven
Nothing was in focus. Sound was muffled. Blackness swirled across her vision. A high-pitched ringing drilled into her ears. Her breath balled in her throat, choking her. She couldn’t move. Everything was pain. Like she’d been slammed into by a wrecking ball of molten metal.
Pain tore through her lungs. Blistered up her spine.
Engulfed her. Owned her. Tried to tear from her throat in a cry.
“Rowan?”
Aslin’s voice. Faint. Almost lost in the ringing.
She tried to open her eyes. To see him. Tried to focus on him through the pain. Tried to claw her way up out of the excruciating agony.
“Rowan, open your eyes and look at me.”
The pitch in his voice changed. Grew deeper.
“Look at me, Hemsworth.”
She ground her teeth. Fuck, she hurt. All over. She hurt. Why the fuck did she—
“Open your sodding eyes, Hemsworth.” She felt something warm and steely hard slip around her fingers. “Now.”
She swallowed. Writhed. The ringing grew louder. The pain in her body snarled. Grabbed at her.
Or was it hands? Fast hands? Hands pushing at her neck? Fingers drilling into her—
“Please, Rowan,” Aslin’s voice slipped into her ear, soft and gentle despite the constant high-pitch sound she heard. “I need you to open your eyes, love.”
She tried to open her eyes, but the pain tore at her.
“Look at me, Rowan.” The warm steel around her fingers squeezed with gentle force. The pressure on her neck faded. “Look at me.”
She forced her eyes open, squinted up at him, swiped her tongue over her lips. The copper taste told her they were bleeding. “Y-you’re a…” She winced, the whispered words were like sandpaper in her throat. “You’re a bossy son…of a bitch, aren’t you, soldier boy?”
The tormented worry etching his face vanished. The gentle grip on her fingers eased…a little. He chuckled, a low sound barely audible over the sirens squealing in the background. “You could call me that.”
Rowan hiccupped out a scratchy laugh. “Can I…can I say ouch?”
Aslin’s knuckles brushed against her jaw in a delicate kiss. “Only if you want me to call you a big girl’s blouse.”
Another laugh tore at Rowan’s chest, sending shards of pain through her body. “A what?”
He shook his head. “I’ll tell you—”
“Rowie?” Chris’s scream cut him short, her brother almost skidding to his knees at her side. “Jesus, Rowie, what…are you okay?”
His expression told her she wasn’t. Stunned horror twisted his face. His stare jerked all over her, no doubt jumping from bloody wound to bloody wound to bloody wound, before he looked at Aslin. “What the fuck happened?”
“An explosive device detonated in my trailer.”
The horror on Chris’s face evaporated at Aslin’s level answer and was replaced with stunned confusion. “What the fuck do you mean an explosive device? Did you leave something on? The kettle? The toaster oven?”
The muscles in Aslin’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I’ve only been in there once, Chris. Yesterday.”