"Everett," she hissed through clenched teeth when he got near enough. "I can't afford this. You've got to do something. Give me an excuse to pick something else."
He shook his head solemnly. "No. You are wearing that one. It's … stunning."
He could see the panic build in her eyes. "But-"
He interrupted her by placing a finger over her lips. Soft lips, he thought, not thin and hard like she usually held them. "Shh. Don't worry about the dress. I'm paying for it." He knew at that moment that he would do anything he had to do in order see her at his side in this dress.
"But-" she protested.
"No buts. You're supposed to be my girlfriend, remember? How would it look if I didn't buy you a beautiful dress for my sister's wedding?" He trailed his finger over her cheek and all the way down her back until he rested his large hand against her waist. He was right. The fabric was soft and silky, and thin enough for him to feel every contour of her skin under his hand.
"This is not over," she bit out, and she pushed his hand away.
Everett had been so overwhelmed by her new look that her words surprised him. His eyes shot up to meet her angry ones and he wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"You. You're what's wrong." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "I'm not doing this with you. This job will remain professional. Get that through your thick head." Her voice was low yet firm, keeping their conversation private.
His mouth twitched. He tried to control himself, but the contrasting image of her angry face and the feminine dress was too much. The grin slipped into place. Not his camera grin but a real one. In a quiet voice, he teased her, "You're right; I do have a thick head. Maybe you can help me with that problem." Her eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, he whispered quickly, "Play along." With those words, he put his hands on her neck brought his lips to hers.
As his lips danced across hers, he could feel her resistance start to fade. He was sorely tempted to take the kiss further, to pull her body fully against his and plunge his tongue into the deepest recesses of her mouth. The only thing that restrained him was his respect for her. She was going to be pissed enough as it was, and he wasn't really trying to take advantage of her. He'd seen Sarah looking at them questioningly and knew it had looked like they were fighting. He'd only wanted to keep up their charade. That wasn't entirely true, he admitted. Keeping their image as a couple was exactly the excuse he'd needed to be able to put his hands on her.
Pulling his mouth from hers, he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Sarah was watching." He straightened and smiled softly at her. Bay's breathing was heavy, but he could still see the anger in her eyes.
"Still not over."
He nodded. "Understood." He was going to be facing a shit storm later. He smiled in anticipation of the upcoming fight.
Chapter 7
‡
I am sitting on a short stone wall. The heat is unbearable in my uniform and full gear. I wipe sweat from my eyes. Lee sits beside me. Laying down his rifle, he unstraps his vest and throws it to the grass at his feet.
Grass?
Lee pulls a smoke out, lights it, and takes a deep puff before handing the cigarette to me while he searches his pockets for a snack. I take it from him and take a drag.
I don't smoke.
Other soldiers mill around us, but we are left alone on the wall. Just the two of us. Lee tells me about his latest Skype call with his wife and one-year-old kid while I sip tea from a china teacup and saucer.
Tea? Where the hell am I? This can't be Afghanistan.
I sense movement all around us, but smoke appears from out of nowhere and clouds both my sight and my thoughts. Shouts, explosions, and gunfire confuse my ears. I can't tell where anything is coming from! Lee mutters beside me, and I turn to see him frowning at the red splotch on his chest.
"Dammit! I just got this shirt washed," he complains. He pulls the shirt over his head and waves it in the air like a flag of surrender.
"No, Lee. Don't!" I try to pull his arms down, but he's too strong. He laughs and pushes me away.
A shadowy figure with glowing red eyes appears before us and points a rifle right at Lee.
Red eyes? I've got to be dreaming.
"Get down!" I throw myself on Lee as the shot rings in my ear. We fall off the wall and hit the hard ground, Lee underneath me.
Bailey opened her eyes and met the blue eyes of … not Lee, she thought in shock, Everett. Embarrassed and more than a little angry, she was about to accuse him of harassing her again when she realized he looked as shocked as she did. Glancing around, she saw they lay on the floor, right where Everett had been when she went to sleep above, on the bed. She groaned as realization crept in. Her nightmares. They were back, and he had been witness to one.
"Sorry," she muttered and tried to push herself up.
He grabbed her arms. "Are you okay?" Concern filled his voice, and she cringed. She didn't want his pity, and she certainly didn't want him knowing she had mental issues.
"I'm fine." She tugged, trying to get him to release her.
"You were dreaming."
"Yeah. So?"
"So, you were screaming."
She tugged her arm again, harder this time. "I'm fine," she emphasized. He let go, and she tumbled sideways onto the floor. Before she could sit up, he had rolled over and now hovered above her, concern still showing in his face.
As she opened her mouth to protest, he spoke. "Who's Lee?"
Bay stilled. Had she said that out loud? What else had he heard? His features gave nothing away. "I don't want to talk about it." She ducked under his arm and got to her feet. In only her shorts and T-shirt sleepwear, she walked stiffly to the window, trying to hide her limp, so she didn't have to look at the handsome man showing interest in her. She leaned against the frame, crossed her arms over her breasts, and stared into the darkness outside the glass. Due to the darkness of the room, she could see outlines of dark shadows outside, showing her the terrain and landscaping.
She felt his presence come up behind her, but she refused to acknowledge him. She had enough on her mind right now, she couldn't deal with … whatever it was going on between them. Why am I thinking of Lee lately? she wondered. Obviously, the trigger had been her dive-bombing Everett at his movie premier. But why was Lee's face morphing into Everett's in her dreams now?
"Talking might help," Everett said quietly.
She harrumphed. "Yeah, that's what my therapist says. Hasn't done any good, has it?"
"At least you're talking to someone. That's good."
She turned on him, anger again rising through her. "Why do you care? And what makes you think I'd want to talk to you anyway? You may be able to charm everyone else with those looks and that fake grin, but I'm not like everyone else. You can't fool me. You're just … " She waved her hands in the air, searching for the words. " … full of fluff."
She tried to push past him again. She could hide out in the bathroom for a while. At least he couldn't bother her there. He stepped in her path, refusing to let her go. "Why don't you like me? Have I done something wrong, or are you always this much of a bitch?"
Before she knew what was happening, her fist was flying to meet his jaw. Everett jerked his head to the side and grabbed her fist in the palm of his hand. He brought down their joined hands and twisted her arm, forcing her closer to him.
"I'm anything but fluff," he growled, his face right in hers. "Don't think because I hire bodyguards I can't protect myself."
Bailey narrowed her eyes as she searched his own darkened ones. He really was mad at what she'd said. Who knew he had a soft spot under that mask? Still, he had no right to call her a bitch, even if she had been acting like one. She was still pissed enough to teach him a thing or two. Without warning, she raised her knee to connect with his groin. As if reading her mind, he stepped forward, crowding her space even more. Off balance, her attack was ineffective. He pinned her against the wall beside the window with his large muscular body. Her leg was now trapped between his, and his hand still gripped tightly to her fist. In spite of all her expert training, there was no way she could overpower him in such a position. She'd have to wait until he made a mistake.
As his body pressed hers against the wall, her anger began to fade as other feelings took control. Her breasts pushed against his chest with her every heaving breath. Heat began to spread from her middle, pooling low in her belly and reaching up to sear her cheeks. She couldn't help but squirm at the somehow erotic sensation of being pinned down by a male sex symbol.