Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,80

and handing her a bag. “Put this on.”

She peeks into the bag, and her jaw drops. “Are you crazy? Hell no.”

I shrug. “Fine, but I’ve got the keys to the car, and you don’t have your phone. It’s a long walk back to Bel Air, rook.”

Angel’s face turns the shade of her lipstick. “Have I ever told you I hate you?”

A smirk creeps across my face as I turn into the parking garage I reserved earlier. “Only every other day.”

After valeting the car, I take her hand as we walk the short distance to our destination. Hidden by darkness, and disguise, no one gives us a second glance.

“Is it true?” I ask glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. “Do blondes really have more fun?”

She whips around, the ends of the short blonde wig brushing across her cheek. “Is this really necessary?”

Instead of answering, I pull her away from the crowd and against a building. “You’re granted three wishes. What are they?”

Her eyebrows draw together. “What?”

“Just answer the question, and don’t think about it. Three wishes, rook, what would you want most?”

“Peace.” After the word slips out, she presses her lips together as if she seems as shocked by her answer as I am.

“Like world peace?”

Shaking her head, she stares at the sidewalk. “No, like calmness. No call times. No fans. No paparazzi. No voices. Just peace.”

“And the other two wishes?”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Grant me the first one, and I’ll tell you the other two.”

Oh, ye of little faith.

Grabbing her hand again, I pull her away from the wall and toward a set of double doors. “Well, rub my lamp, and call me Genie, baby. It’s about to come true.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

I draw her back a few steps and tip her chin toward the brightly lit marquee. “Look up.”

Angel’s eyes widen. “You brought me back to a movie theater?”

“You’re not Alexandra Romanov tonight, and I’m not Dominic McCallum. We’re just two people going to see a movie, eating some popcorn, and being ignored like two totally normal, peaceful human beings.”

For a moment, I think I’ve fucked up. She’s completely silent and stock still. Statue still. Life goes on around her while she seems frozen in time.

This was stupid.

I’m about to call the whole thing off and take her back to the car when she slowly turns around, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You did this for me?”

“Don’t get all weird. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah it is,” she chokes out, blinking back emotion. “It’s a big deal to me. This is…” Angel’s voice breaks, and she shakes her head, dragging in a shaky breath. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you, Dominic.”

I shrug. “Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. It’s an action flick. Explosions, car chases, real James Bond kind of shit.”

A genuine smile brightens her face. “I don’t care.”

I’m in uncharted waters here. I know how to combat her attitude. I know how to handle her body. I know how to deal with her anger. But this…I have no defense. I don’t know how to cope with affection. The way she’s looking at me, it’s like I hung the moon.

If she only knew I stained it with blood first.

So, I pretend it’s not there. I lead her inside and find our seats in the very back left side of the theater. The place she’s least likely to be recognized. Just to ensure her privacy, I bought out the back four rows. I want her to feel normal, but I’m also not a moron.

As soon as the lights go down, I hear her let out a soft breath and feel the last of whatever tension has held her hostage the last week melt away.

Just as I promised, a quarter of the way into the movie, shit is blowing up left and right. Some terrorists just strapped a bomb to an SUV and the explosion burst through the surround sound like an earthquake. But I have no idea what the hell is going on in the movie.

I’ve been too focused on Angel’s nails.

For the past twenty minutes she’s trailed them up and down my thigh, inching closer and closer to where I’m rock hard and about to embarrass myself. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but it’s not funny anymore.

“Stop,” I growl, grabbing a firm hold around her wrist.

“Why?”

I grit my teeth. “It’s been seven days, rook. You get those fucking nails any closer and that SUV won’t