He kissed her softly and grinned as he pulled back. “Rehearse lines with me?”

Her stomach twisted slightly. It was really no big deal, but rehearsing lines for a movie she’d been hoping to audition for might give her a mild anxiety attack.

Support. That was what they did for one another. “Of course. Do you have the script already?” If Arman had somehow managed to get his hands on the coveted script this early, the manager might actually be worth listening to.

Matt laughed as he placed another soft kiss to her lips. “I was talking about the indie film.”

And she was supposed to not fall in love with this guy?

She wrapped her arms around him tight and pressed her body to his. “Have I told you how much I like you?”

“You have.”

“Have you told me how much you like me?” she asked in her most seductive voice. She didn’t want to sound like she was begging for him to tell her what she longed to hear, but she wished he’d just say the L word first. That was the way it always worked in her relationships. The men always said it first, even if in hindsight they didn’t really mean it. The uncertainty from having strong feelings that she wasn’t sure were reciprocated was new. And it was torture.

“I think it should be obvious,” Matt murmured against her lips. “After all, I’ve agreed to freeze my nuts off in the middle of Nunavut to film this movie with you, haven’t I?”

Not exactly the reassurance she was desperate for. But he was right. People showed love differently. While she was more vocal in her feelings, his love language might be acts of service.

“It’s Alaska, actually,” she said, kissing him. “Wild River, to be exact.”

For the first time in a year, Selena was headed back to the place where her life had been in danger. But this time, she wasn’t running away from something. This time, she was running toward her new future.

Seattle, Washington

The station’s security guards were a lot stronger than they looked.

At six foot two, two hundred pounds, Gus Orosco wasn’t a small guy. Yet they had no problem carrying him out of the Sports Live studio, where his co-reporter was left scrambling to recover from Gus’s on-air blackout.

There was really no other word for what had happened in there moments ago. Fully conscious, there was no way he would have sabotaged his career on live TV. “Guys, you can put me down,” Gus said, struggling to free himself. With his feet three inches off the floor and their tight grip on his forearms, it seemed like he was actually dangerous or something. He smiled at an intern walking down the hall toward them, but the young college student avoided his gaze and stuck close to the wall as he passed.