Heartthrob (11 page)

“What are you doing?” It was an inane question, but it was the best one she could come up with. “Where’s Bob?”

He shifted slightly under her gaze, and the light from the hallway reflected off the shiny metal of handcuffs and …

Hand
cuffs?

“Is this some kind of joke?” she asked sharply.

He held up his hands for her to get a better look. Yes, he was definitely wearing handcuffs. And a thick metal chain connected those handcuffs to some sort of bracket that was attached to the wall.

“Does this look like a joke?”

“Oh, my God,” Kate breathed.

“Yeah,” Jericho said. “Oh, my God.”

“Where’s Bob Hollander?” she asked again.

“Good fucking question. Do you mind uncuffing me? I have to pee. Badly.”

Kate stood frozen, completely unable to move. “I don’t … I don’t have a key. Why did Bob lock you up?
Did
Bob lock you up?”

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t the Easter Bunny who left me here like this.”

“Kate?”

It was Annie’s voice, calling from outside. Kate heard the squeak as her assistant opened the trailer’s screen door.

Jericho nearly dove off the bed, but there was nowhere for him to go. The chain kept him from being able to hide. “For Christsake,” he said from between clenched teeth, “will you lock the door? This isn’t a goddamned zoo!”

Kate moved fast. And with the movement of her feet, her brain kicked back in. “Annie.” She stopped the young woman from coming all the way inside the trailer. “I need a bucket or a pail, and I need it fast. And a yellow pages—I’m going to need a locksmith. Leave ’em both right here, outside the door. Oh, and give me back my keys.”

Annie was confused. “Is Jericho in there? Is he sick?”

“He’s here, he’s fine.
Go.
” Kate pushed her assistant out the door with her, locking it tightly behind her.

She ran to Jericho’s other trailer and fumbled with the keys in the lock, dropping them twice before opening the door.

Once inside, she took a quick look around. With just a glance, she could see that Jericho had claimed the bedroom in an attempt to have something of a private area. She grabbed a pair of shorts from his closet, then ran back to the other trailer.

She went inside, locking the door securely behind her.

Jericho was sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbows were on his knees, and his head was down, resting in his hands.

And Kate knew the truth. The way he’d been sitting there when she’d first come in had been an act. He’d had a choice between showing his embarrassment or acting arrogant upon being discovered chained up like some kind of animal. He’d chosen arrogance, but she knew what he was truly feeling was beyond embarrassment.

This must be impossibly humiliating. Kate tried for a second to put herself in his place, but the thought of him
walking into her bedroom to find
her
naked and in chains was too awful to dwell on.

“Annie’s gone to get a bucket to use as, um, as a temporary chamber pot, and a yellow pages. I’ll call a locksmith and—”

He looked up at her. “That’s not a very good idea.” His hair was a mess, and he had a heavy growth of stubble on his face. His eyes were bleary and red-rimmed from lack of sleep, but his gaze was still sharp. “You don’t want news getting out that Jericho Beaumont was found naked and handcuffed to his bed.” His mouth twisted in a near approximation of a smile. “Now, if I’d been found naked and handcuffed to
your
bed, that would be a whole ‘nother story entirely.”

Kate let out a burst of air that in any other situation might have been called laughter. “I can’t believe you can joke about this.”

“That wasn’t a joke.”

But it had been. He had every right to be mad as hell, but he was able to find humor in the situation. Kate felt humbled. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to do the same.

She held out his shorts. “Here. I got you … Here.”

He reached, but the chain didn’t go very far. She had to step forward, much closer, to put them in his hands. She then turned away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I’m going to …” He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need some help.”

The chain that attached his handcuffs to the wall was only about three feet long. As Kate turned back, she saw that it kept him from bending down to step into the shorts. He was too tall, and the chain was too short.

He was mortified to have to ask for help. She could see embarrassment and shame darkening his cheeks.

The best thing to do in a situation like this was move quickly. Get it over with. Kate reached for his shorts,
kneeling in front of him so that he could step into them easily.

“Hollander got a call a little after midnight,” he told her. She wondered if he were talking to distract her or himself. She kept her eyes firmly on his feet as she pulled the shorts up his legs. He had remarkably nice feet—long and elegant-looking, with nicely shaped toes and neatly trimmed nails.

“I was already asleep,” he continued, “but he woke me up. He said he had to go out, but he’d be back long before I had to be on set in the morning.”

As soon as his fingers could reach the waistband of the shorts, Kate stepped back and turned away.

“I asked, but he wouldn’t say where he was going. I thought he was kidding when he got out the handcuffs, but he wasn’t.” The sound of his zipper being pulled up seemed to echo in the room. “He took my clothes and the bed linens, too, in case I somehow pulled a houdini and got free.” Jericho laughed harshly. “As if fear of being seen naked would keep me in this trailer if handcuffs couldn’t hold me …”

Kate didn’t know what to say as she turned to face him again. “I’m so sorry.”

He glanced at her. “Yeah, I know you are.”

The screen door opened with a screech, followed by the sound of the trailer door being unlocked.

Kate moved quickly, intending to run interference. She didn’t know who else had a key to this trailer but—

The door opened, and Bob Hollander stepped inside.

He had returned.

He was sweaty and rumpled—as if he’d jogged several miles in his suit in the already scorching morning heat.

“Sorry,” he said shortly. “Car broke down.”

Kate waited, but that was it. He didn’t volunteer any further explanation.

“Is that Hollander?” Jericho asked from the other room. “Did he actually have the balls to come back here?”

“Where were you?” Kate demanded.

“I had some business I had to take care of. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Incon
ven
ience?” Kate couldn’t believe the man’s nerve. “You locked Jericho in handcuffs—”

“Actually, that’s standard operating procedure, particularly when the client has an obvious lack of respect for authority. I’ve found it helps clear up any misunderstanding in regard to who is actually in charge.”

“That would be me, Mr. Hollander,” Kate said coldly. She didn’t need Frau Steinbreaker today. She was mad enough to pull it off entirely on her own. “
I
am in charge. And at no time, during any of our conversations did the subject of handcuffs ever come up.”

“Excuse me,” Jericho called from the back. “Can I get these goddamn things off now?”

Hollander ignored him. “If you’ll look at our agreement, you’ll see that you granted me the authority to—”

“Do you have the key?” Kate interrupted.

“Of course—”

“Give it to me.”

Hollander dug into his pocket. “I’ll unlock him.”

“Oh, good idea. Send Bobby on in here, Kate.” Jericho’s voice was tight. “Please. I’m looking forward to kicking the shit out of him. Or wait. I know—maybe I’ll wrap this goddamn chain around his neck.”

Kate blocked Hollander’s way, holding out her hand. “I’ll do it. You better wait outside.”

Hollander didn’t blink. “I can handle him.”

She stood her ground. “I don’t want you to handle him.”

The ex-marine shrugged and dropped the key into her palm.

Kate heard the screen door screech open and closed as she went back to Jericho.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed again, breathing hard as if he had just run a race. “He doesn’t think he did anything wrong, does he? The son of a bitch.
Son
of a bitch!”

She sat down next to him, aching for him. “I don’t think he does, no.”

Jericho was holding onto the chain so tightly his knuckles were white. “I’m not going to kill him. As much as I want to, I’m not going to. This isn’t good. This doesn’t help me.”

He was trying to control his anger. As Kate watched, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

She reached for him, putting her hands over his, tugging his fingers free from the chain. “It’s okay for you to be angry, Jericho. But it’s not okay for you to kick the shit out of Bob Hollander.”

He looked up at that. “So how else do you suggest I release all this hostility?” He glanced down at their hands, still tightly clasped, and when he looked back at her, the entire room seemed to tilt. This wasn’t just a room, it was a bedroom. And not even five minutes ago, this man had been sitting here completely naked.

Kate could see a reflection of her own sudden hyperawareness in his eyes. Hyperawareness—and attraction.

She was sitting on Jericho Beaumont’s bed, holding his hands. And despite the fact that he’d been trying his best to make her life as difficult as possible over the past week, there was a light in his eyes that told her he would not be adverse to fanning this spark between them into flames. Searing, consuming, white-hot flames.

Or maybe that light was just a reflection of her own attraction. God, she’d practically had to wipe the drool from her chin when she’d first come in and found him here.

Kate pulled her hands away, feeling her cheeks heat
with embarrassment. She fumbled for the key, and dropped it once before getting it into the lock. The cuffs sprang open, and he was free.

“Jericho, I’m so sorry about this,” she said again.

His wrists looked red and sore, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stood up and went right into the bathroom. Kate didn’t move, well aware that there was no door. No privacy. She heard him relieve himself, heard the toilet flush, then the sound of water running in the sink. And then … She heard the metallic shriek of the opening screen door.

She dropped the handcuffs, and they hit the wall with a rattle as she ran for the door.

Sure enough, as she stepped out of the trailer, Jericho was heading directly for Bob Hollander.

She caught up, and he glanced at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she said, stepping in front of him and forcing him to stop. “Hollander’s a former hand-to-hand combat instructor. It would be crazy for you to start anything with him. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. You should be running in the opposite direction!”

His eyes were no longer hot with anger. In fact, they were oddly devoid of any emotion. He looked almost empty, as if part of him were no longer there.

He shook his head. “Aw, hell. Now I’ve got to.” He stepped around her.

Kate looked across the dusty driveway to Bob Hollander. “Bob …”

The former marine looked as exhausted as Jericho, but he didn’t try to move away. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned.

“You’re right,” Jericho admitted. “But if I don’t, Kate’s going to think I’m a coward.” He circled the bigger man, who turned warily to keep facing him.

“I will not,” Kate called. “I’ll think you’ve finally got a few of your brain cells working. I’ll think you’re behaving as a professional—considering the impact a black eye and bruised face will have on our shooting schedule.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let him touch my face.” There was something about the flat matter-of-factness of Jericho’s voice and his total lack of expression that was unnerving.

“There’s no way you could win.” Hollander was sounding less certain of that.

“Are you sure?” Jericho’s eyes were oddly devoid of emotion. “You don’t have a clue where I’ve been, Bobby. You don’t know where I came from—who I’ve had to fight in my life, just to survive.”

A crowd was starting to gather. The members of the cast and crew who weren’t busy preparing for the morning’s shoot were filtering out of the Morning Glory Grill to see what was going on.

Kate moved toward Jericho and Bob Hollander. “All right,” she said. “I think this has gone—”

Hollander swung first, throwing a punch at Jericho, moving incredibly fast for such an enormous man. But Jericho had spun out of the way with the grace and speed of a dancer, easily dodging what could well have been a teeth-rattling blow. Hollander lunged for him again, but it seemed as if Jericho had eyes in the back of his head, and again he moved out of reach. And as Hollander was off balance, Jericho feinted with his right hand, then followed quickly by a hard left.

It all happened so fast, Kate didn’t even have time to shout for them to stop. Bob Hollander blocked Jericho’s punch, but his movement left the rest of him wide open, which Kate realized was Jericho’s plan. Because while Hollander was open, Jericho kicked him—hard—in the groin.

And Hollander fell, face first, into the dusty street.

“Stop!” Kate shouted. “Stop this right now!” She moved between them. “Back away,” she ordered Jericho. “Get back—
now
!”

His gaze had been glued to Hollander, as if he expected the bigger man to leap to his feet and come after him, but now he glanced up at Kate.

His eyes were empty. There was nothing there. No anger, but also no exhilaration, no triumph. It was like looking into the frozen void of outer space.

“Back away,” she said again, her voice little more than a whisper.

To her relief, Jericho obeyed.

But Hollander managed to push himself to his knees. He’d also found his voice. “Come back here, you little piece of shit and finish what you started!”

Jericho obeyed him, too, and again, Kate stepped between them.

“You!” Kate bellowed. “Hollander! I want to see you in my office in twenty seconds!” She turned to Jericho. “And you. You’re late for the set. Get your butt down to makeup, on the double.” She pointed at one of the gofers who was standing in the crowd, watching wide-eyed. “You, Tony! Go with Jericho and
stay
with Jericho until I tell you otherwise. The rest of you get back to work. Now,
move
it!”