She hadn’t spotted Rob yet, but it was clear he was close – and he could see her. She felt a bit like a gazelle being toyed with by a lion. What was his move here? Was he there purely because of her, or was he just using her proximity to mess with her head? Because he could. CCTV or not, he also knew Hannah well enough to realize that she wouldn’t have followed through on that threat. But what was his endgame? Did she have actual reason to be afraid of him? She turned her attention back to the red carpet and saw Ward glancing in her direction, even as the glare of the overhead spotlights obscured her in shadow. Offering what she hoped was a winning smile, she flashed an awkward thumbs-up and encouraging shake of her head.

But his eyes trailed from her gaze and turned toward the press tent entrance whereupon his expression darkened. Whatever distracted half-smile he had been wearing a moment before instantly disappeared.

Hannah furrowed her brow. He needed to snap out of it. OK, so he hated this stuff and was likely now tired of all the calling and requests to turn this way and that, but the red carpet crawl was two minutes at most. Any good pictures already taken were surely going to be overshadowed by him looking like he was ready to spit nails.

And the media noticed.

Ward looked pissed so the cameras urgently snapped with even more abandon. The sports reporters in particular knew that glare, typically reserved for when WildCat McKenzie dropped the mitts and decided to throw an opponent into the boards.

Even as his red carpet companion continued to smile and pose, oblivious to the change in mood, it was obvious that something behind the press line had stolen his attention.

Come on, Ward. Don’t do this to me now.

Hannah’s anxiety intensified as he continued to glower at something unseen.

‘What’s going on with Ward, Hannah?’ one of the events team asked.

Distracted, she turned to face the guy, readying herself to give some sort of halfway believable excuse, like he was just tired or his knee was giving him trouble. She opened her mouth to speak, trying her best to think on her feet and cover for him – but before she could form a syllable, her attention was once again directed elsewhere.

A hand on her elbow and the grip was commanding … demanding.

Hannah didn’t need to turn to figure out who the hand belonged to.

She jerked her elbow away from Rob as if his touch had just burned her skin. He wore the same winning smile typically reserved for the cameras, but his eyes danced with malicious pleasure.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, all the while trying to appear natural and unaffected. The last thing she needed now was to sully Ward’s press with her dramas.