The woman was like a shadow. Always…
Aslin’s blood began to roar in his ears. His nerve-endings started sparking.
Around. The woman was always around. It didn’t matter how many times she’d been chased or thrown off the film site, she always seemed to find a way back on. Perhaps it was time he had a face-to-face with Belinda the crazed fan again?
“Rhodes?”
He turned to the Australian standing beside him, on edge again.
“Are you heading upstairs? To Huntley and his sister?”
Aslin nodded.
“Mind if I call it a night then? I promised my niece I’d take her and her boyfriend to the Justin Bieber concert. I’d hate for her to get crushed in the mosh pit.”
“Not at all. Although I’m glad it’s you and not me.”
Liev laughed. “Teenagers have no clue about music these days. Give me Pearl Jam any day.”
Aslin shook his head with a grin. “I’m pretty sure Eddie Vedder lost a leer jet to Nick in a Vegas poker game five years ago.”
Liev snorted. “You celebrity bodyguards. I think I’ll settle with the political variety. Less insanity.”
“And you’re not enjoying this job? Tailing Chris Huntley?”
The Australian laughed again. “This, my Pommie friend, is a dream job. One I thank you for. But it’s my niece you’ll have to answer to if I don’t bugger off now, so…” He tapped his fingers to an imaginary hat and walked across the foyer and out the doors.
Aslin stood motionless and watched him go, his pulse a sudden trip hammer in his throat.
Motionless? Why aren’t you heading up to Rowan?
His pulse throbbed harder. Because he was scared, sod it. The last time he’d seen Rowan, he’d confessed to being in love with her. He had no clue how she was going to react to that bombshell. Nor, for that matter, how she was going to react to his insistence she was the target of an attempted murder.
A chilling ribbon of tension shot up his spine at the thought, followed by a wave of molten fury. He’d find the person responsible and make them regret ever—
His cell phone rang.
The sound of Freddy Mercury singing wailed through the quiet hospital foyer and more than one head turned Aslin’s way. He clenched his jaw, yanked his phone free of his pocket and pressed it to his ear. “Rhodes.”
“Aslin.” Chris’s broad American accent shot through the connection. “Where are you, dude? She’s checking herself out.”
Aslin’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s what?”
“Rowie is checking herself out. Told everyone here she’s fine and dandy, that she doesn’t do hospitals and she’ll promise to come back if she—”
Aslin didn’t wait to hear the rest. He killed the call, shoved his phone back into his pocket and ran for the stairs.
Damn it, why the hell did he have to go and fall in love with a bloody stubborn pain-in-the-arse woman?
Chapter Thirteen
Rowan didn’t need to turn away from the counter to know Aslin stood behind her. She could feel him there—his inescapable stare drilling into the back of her head, the heat radiating from his towering body into hers.
His anger licked against her senses, tangible and potent.
Heart beating fast, she continued to sign her name in the required locations, forcing her focus on the point where pen nib touched paper. She refused to hurry even though a small part of her wanted to throw the pen over her shoulder and run as fast as her bruised—and still-wobbly—legs would go.
Damn it. She’d wanted to be gone by the time he returned.
“You’re in trouble now, sis.”
She shot Chris a quick sideward glance. “So are you, tattletale.”
Her brother laughed, and then did what she was too chicken to do—turn around and look at the Brit behind her. “She’s all yours, Rhodes.”
Rowan’s heart beat faster. She kept her stare on the pen, watching the black ink form the final loop of the last H in her surname on the discharge form.
“Care to tell me what you think you’re doing, Hemsworth?”
His deep voice flowed over her like rumbling thunder. Even with the dull pain still at home in her ribs, her body reacted to its sound. Her pussy contracted, her nipples grew tight.
“Checking out,” she answered, doing her best to sound nonplussed. She raised her head from the form and smiled at the nurse scowling at her from the other side of the counter. “There you go.”
Chris’s off-key voice sang softly about being able to check out any time but never leave, his hands tapping on the counter beside Rowan’s paperwork.
“And where exactly are you going now you’ve checked out?” Aslin asked, an edge to his voice.