Chapters (40)
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT PAGE
- CONTENTS
- START READING
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
North crosses his arms over his chest, an unmovable mountain. “I am a trained stunt driver.”
“That’s nice. I’m sure you do a great job on stunts.”
Pulling out my keys, I head for my beloved MINI Clubman that’s been sitting idle and ignored in the driveway. North follows in a huff, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder. “Are you going to whine about this?”
He puts a hand to his chest as if affronted. “I never whine.”
“Good. Get in the car.”
I hop into the driver’s seat and run a hand over the steering wheel. “Hey, baby. Mama’s back.”
North gives me an amused look as he shuts the passenger door. “You going to talk to the car the whole time? If so, I might actually start whining.”
With a laugh, I turn the car on, and we head out. It isn’t until we’re driving down the highway that I talk again. “Until now, you seemed to be a fairly laid-back guy. Does it really bother you so much that a woman is driving?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns his attention to the blue streak of the ocean just outside his window. “Saint will have a fit,” he mutters.
“Macon? Why, because we’re running errands together? Tough shit.” Okay, I’m still grumpy and still feeling guilty, damn it.
North casts an amused smile my way. “Why would he care if we’re running errands?”
I wisely refrain from illuminating North. “You tell me.”
The big man glances out the window as if he’s contemplating jumping out of the speeding car. With his credentials, he’d probably do a graceful roll, then dust himself off before walking to Beverly Hills.
“The accident,” North bites out. “It’s made him . . . cautious.”
It’s clear North feels he’s sold out Macon’s privacy by admitting this. And I don’t blame Macon for having certain fears about driving. If I’d careened down an embankment and gotten wrapped around a tree, I probably wouldn’t get in a car for months.
North’s voice is subdued. “He told me to drive you anywhere you needed to go, whatever the case.”
The car hums along the road as I grip the wheel and think.
“That’s why you asked if I wanted to come with you to Beverly Hills. You knew Karen wanted me to pick up the scripts.”
“I’m meeting a colleague in the same building,” he protests before his shoulders slump. “But yes, that was the motivating factor.”
“And here I thought you enjoyed my company.” A thick silence is my answer, and I can all but hear him wincing. With wide eyes, I glance at North. “Oh my God, you got the lecture, too, didn’t you?”
His smile is wry. “The ‘if you so much as look sideways at Delilah, I’ll break your legs’ lecture? Yes.”