But did she believe in fidelity? In vows? In the sanctity of marriage, be it hers or someone else’s? That little tidbit was still to be determined. “Oh yeah?” he asked.
“Definitely. I’m probably honest to a fault.” Sirens blared from directly in front of the house, then shut off.
“I’ll bet you are,” he said. She seemed as wholesome as the press had made her out to be. But was it real?
“If we’re being honest, can I tell you I really hate that America’s Sweetheart label? I could strangle the reporter who gave me that. Of all the things they’ve called me over the years, why did that one have to stick?”
Interesting. Was that a little confession to let him know she wasn’t as sweet as she came off? “It’s not so bad.” His lips curled into a half smile. “You could’ve been stuck with ‘America’s Princess.’”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “That is worse.” She locked her gaze onto his, brought her hand to his face and stroked her thumb along his cheek and jaw. “Thank you. Again,” she whispered. Her hand felt so damn good as she caressed him. He lost the grin as the blood rushed south. She had to feel how much he wanted her. Every touch got his dick harder and harder against her thigh. He could kiss her now, do what he’d wanted to do since talking with her in the hospital. A scant three inches separated their lips. He might have been on top of her for her safety, but her response as she subtly shifted her legs to accommodate his weight between them and the soft touch of her fingers on his face all led to all systems go. He leaned his head down a fraction.
“Police!” a man yelled from inside the house.
Troy froze an inch from her lips and felt her heart thump hard beneath his. “Looks like the cavalry is here.”
She shook her head. “The cavalry’s been here all along.”
A primal shot of lust and heat zinged straight to his dick. He wanted her. Bad. Right now. Right here. And that just couldn’t happen. Mainly because she was under his surveillance. How the hell could he fall for the woman he was supposed to be watching? What the fuck had he been thinking a few minutes ago? Talk about divine intervention.
Only now he had a definite itch that needed scratching. He was long past the time he should’ve let off some sexual steam with one of the several—very willing—ladies from the gym, but at this point he couldn’t imagine fucking one of them without thinking of Julie, and the sleaze factor in that scenario made him shudder.
Troy heard people slowly clearing out one by one, crawling safely out the front behind police barricades. He gazed into her pretty blue eyes and he didn’t give a shit about divine intervention. The way she looked up, the very clear sign she gave him as she licked her luscious lips had every cell in his body screaming go for it. There was simply no way he could. He had a very clear line when it came to his work. No getting involved with the clients or suspected cheaters or home wreckers. Not that he’d ever been in the position before, but this couldn’t happen no matter how much he wanted it.
Why did it have to be Julie Fraser sleeping with Ari? Why couldn’t it have been a different Hollywood starlet? Some diva with an attitude who Troy didn’t admire. Someone who hadn’t faced death with a joke and an introduction.
Still, she looked up at him with a combination of humor and certainty in her expressive blue eyes. A grin curved her lips. “You like me,” she said.
The evidence was as clear as the erection in his pants. He couldn’t do much other than nod his agreement.
“I like you too,” she whispered.
Maybe if he stood up, the shooter would put him out of his misery. He didn’t see any way around it. Yeah, okay, Hollywood must have rubbed off on him in the months he’d been here, because that seemed a little overboard, but he’d never been so tempted in his life to toss his rules.
“I guess now I can get your number,” he said. He’d call too, if she turned out to be innocent in this whole mess. At the moment, there was nothing he wanted more. Just the idea of one date with her took his happy meter off the