Living Dangerously (3 page)

This was bound to happen at some point especially if he shadowed Ari Nepali until he had the information he needed.

“It’s not a pop quiz,” she said, slanting her head to the side as she waited.

“Security,” Troy finally admitted.

Her brows lifted and her smile returned. “Ah.” She nodded. “Well, I won’t feel as guilty then since you probably feel it’s your responsibility to get in the way of flying bullets.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty anyway,” Troy told her. “Anyone working in security or law enforcement knows the risks. Like I said, I made the choice. I knew what I was getting into.”

He saw the disbelief in her eyes as her smile faded and figured he could come clean about this part. “I saw the shooter after the first few rounds went off. He laid some wild fire from a fifth-floor office, but if I had to bet, I’d say he was gunning for you.”

Her pretty blue eyes widened. “Really?” The idea seemed to surprise her. “The police suggested something similar and asked if I’d recently been threatened or had any enemies. I thought they were just covering all the bases. I mean, other people were hurt...shot, the officer, one of the attendants and a few pedestrians. I wasn’t the only one.”

“True,” Troy conceded. “But you were the only one who was hit twice and nearly died.”

“Not true.” She shook her head. “The officer is still in a coma.”

“The shooter had to get by him to get into the office building. He was a casualty, not the target.”

“Okay, maybe. But maybe he liked the idea of a moving target or the fact that I was the only famous person still on the red carpet, which meant more press for him to enjoy later. I don’t believe he was out for me specifically. The shooter hit you too.”

“Because I was saving you.”

Chapter Three

The guilt Julie had attempted to banish came back with a vengeance. “Wait a minute,” she said, stopping him with her index finger in the air. “You’re telling me you
knew
this guy was definitely going to shoot at you if you came for me and you did it anyway?” Her brows furrowed. “No offense, Troy, but what the hell is wrong with you?”

Troy gazed at her with an odd expression on his face and a hint of a grin on his lips. “Like I said, America would’ve been pretty pissed if I’d let their sweetheart bleed out on the red carpet.” Looking at the floor, he chuckled softly.

“What’s so funny?” she asked. She sat forward and regretted the move instantly when a blast of pain shot from her middle and extended to all parts north and south. “I don’t see how any of this is funny.” She grimaced.

The brief flash of white teeth disappeared. “You’re right. It isn’t funny. I’ve just seen you make that same face on television, and it always makes me laugh.” The hard line of his jaw screamed sex appeal and Julie’s annoyance disappeared. “Do you need me to get the nurse so she can get you something for the pain?”

“No. I’m okay.” She hated the hazy feeling of Vicodin. She took a few seconds to regroup. Let the pain ease away. She shook her head, needed to leave the grumpy victim behind. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, you know I am. I just can’t believe...” She trailed off, hating that she sounded like such a broken record. What kind of man did something so dangerous? “Thank you. Again. Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you. How much do you usually charge to save someone’s life?”

He tipped his head, his eyes intent, but they sparkled with humor. “The rates vary. Getting shot tends to jack up the price.”

“I’ll bet,” she murmured. When she met his gaze, her pulse took another leap at the dark intensity of his eyes. “Speaking of getting shot, did the police talk to you?” she asked.

Troy nodded. “A couple of detectives came by yesterday and I told them what I remember. Not that I saw much. The shooter was covered from head to toe in black.”

“That’s more than me. All I saw was the red carpet in my face. I’m supposed to come up with a list of anyone who might want to hurt me.” She rolled her eyes again. “Seriously? I get a ton of weird fan mail, but no one’s said they’re going to kill me. They usually love my movies, hate my movies or want to marry me. This is way too over the top.”

“They’re just covering their bases. I’m sure they’re talking to everyone on the scene.”

Julie exhaled a sigh. “It didn’t sound like they had too much information so far. I hope they find something that helps them catch this guy.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I would be happy to sit on the witness stand and put him away for a long time.”

A nurse walked by the room and glanced in. Her mouth rounded in a silent
oh
and her brows pulled together in an accusing glare. “Mr. Mills! There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. Marco is frantic that he lost you.” Red curls escaped her French braid.

“My physical therapist,” Troy told Julie as he got to his feet. “Tell Marco I did an extra couple of laps and had to sit down for a second.”

“He’s threatening to put a GPS on your IV,” the nurse said.

“Only if I get a LoJack to go with it.” He winked at Julie and a silly grin stretched her lips.

“Good luck joking your way out of this one,” the nurse replied. “Marco is going to go ballistic on your skinny white butt.” She looked down the hallway and motioned someone forward. Presumably Marco.

Troy looked back at her with mock horror in his eyes. “If my physical therapist does me in before I see you again, it was nice talking with you.” He watched her for a second and Julie’s pulse quickened. His dark serious eyes said more than words. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said. A half grin lifted the corners of his lips before he followed the nurse out the door.

Julie leaned back against her pillow and a little shudder rippled down her spine. Troy Mills had one hell of a powerful smile. As she lay there thinking back on their conversation, she realized she still knew next to nothing about him. Was he from L.A.? Did he have a girlfriend? Could he cook?

“Julie!” Her assistant, Abbey, stormed into the room. Her straight light brown hair was in its usual ponytail high on her head, making her look even younger than normal. She wore very little makeup, if any, and had the most gorgeous mocha-colored skin on the planet. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe it. How are you? What do you need? What should I do first?” Abbey, bless her California-native heart, had been her right hand for over two years. Julie knew the day would come when Abbey would find a better job, her dream job of dancing, but so far she’d stayed. The twenty-three-year-old with a BA in communications put all the trash on Julie’s tray and organized everything she saw.

“I’m okay,” Julie told her. “Just really tender and sore.”

“I saw the footage from my parents’ place and got back as soon as I could. I knew I shouldn’t have left when you had an award weekend.” She moved the tray to the windowsill and refilled the water cup.

Julie waved her hand. “Pft. It wasn’t like I was nominated. Besides, you being here wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“You’re wrong.” Abbey collected the cards and letters scattered on the end table and put them in a neat stack. “It would’ve made me feel better about being here for you sooner.” She took the chair Troy recently vacated, her dancer-posture perfect as she sat forward. “So what did the doctors say? What happened?”

“I have one less organ to worry about since they removed my spleen.”

Abbey’s nose crinkled up. “That sucks. How important is a spleen? Do you need a transplant?”

“Apparently the body can survive without a spleen.”

“That’s a relief. What else?”

“I needed a blood transfusion, but Mom donated so it all evened out.”

“Wow. Your mom didn’t mention that.”

Julie shook her head. “That’s why you cut your trip short, isn’t it? Mom asked you to be here since she had to go to Arizona?”

Abbey’s green eyes narrowed. “I’m going to take the Fifth. I’m not getting your mom in hot water.” Abbey hated making waves and hated confrontation. She was the biggest people pleaser on the West Coast...probably the whole west half of the USA. “You can’t blame her for worrying about you. You’re all she has.”

Sighing, Julie eased against the pillow. After discovering during the interview two years ago that Abbey’s parents had moved to North Carolina, her mom had not only hired her, she’d basically adopted the UCLA senior. She’d become like another daughter to Elena. “Let me know how much the charge was to change your flight and I’ll reimburse you.” They might occasionally ask a lot of Abbey, but they paid her well and treated her like family.

“Not necessary,” Abbey said.

It didn’t take long to translate those words. “Ah, so my mom covered it already.”

Abbey made the crinkle face again. It reminded Julie of the expression that launched her television show. A look the critics described as “character defining” and “reminiscent of the comedic style Lucille Ball displayed with her wide-eyed surprise on
Lucy
.” Whether Abbey meant to copy her on purpose, Julie didn’t know, but the look confirmed her hunch.

“What do you need me to do first?” Abbey asked, dropping the subject. “How about I stop by the house and bring in the mail? I can get your phone messages too?”

Julie nodded and adjusted her arm more comfortably on the pillow next to her. That little move pulled at her stitches and sent a fresh round of pain to her fingertips. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Great.”

Abbey’s brows quirked sympathetically. “I’m guessing most of the calls are going to be from friends, but I think there are a few reporters who have your private line. I’ll write everything down and erase the machine. Unless you want me to keep the personal messages so you can hear them for yourself.”

“Good idea.” Julie yawned, already needing a nap. She’d rather sleep through the pain than take the pain meds the doctor prescribed.

“I’ll let you crash for a while.” Abbey moved Julie’s water cup closer, then crossed to the bedside and took her good hand. “Listen, lady. Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask. I would’ve been here sooner, but I was up at the cabin and they don’t have a TV up there. Cell phone reception is a joke too.” She squeezed her hand.

“Tell you what...” Julie said as Abbey pulled the blankets more snuggly around her. “When I get out of here and get back on my feet, I’ll pay for the plane fare so you can go back and have the visit you missed because you rushed back to me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Abbey said.

“I know. I want to. C’mon, it’s the least I can do.”

“You are the best boss ever,” Abbey said, her smile straight, bright and wholesome.

Julie gave her a tired smile. “I know. I rock.” She yawned again.

Abbey laughed. “I’m going to your place and will be back later to check on you.”

Julie nodded, closed her eyes and fell asleep before Abbey got out of the room.

* * *

The next day, Julie felt like an eighty-year-old woman as she walked her laps around the floor with her physical therapist, Kelly. Getting shot was hell on the body. She’d been in the best shape of her life, which, the doctors had told her, was probably what had
saved
her life. The weakness she felt now pissed her off, and the fact that someone had likely put her here purposely pissed her off even more. The only thing she could do to retaliate was get as strong as she could as fast as she could. That was the only bird she had to flip to her would-be killer.

After discovering Troy was on the same floor, she’d done some investigating and found his room. But as she shuffled by, she found his bed empty and her hopes of seeing him this morning vanished in a poof of disappointment. Her shoulders slumped and her smile disappeared. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how much she’d wanted to see him.

“Looking for someone?” a male voice asked.

Just the sound of his voice perked her up. Troy rounded the corner with his physical therapist walking next to him.

“Hi,” she said, suddenly and absurdly nervous. He was taller than she expected. Of course, she’d been on her back all the other times she’d been in his presence. “Have you done all your laps or would you like to join Kelly and me? We’re just starting out.” Had she really just blurted out that embarrassing invitation? She felt her cheeks heat.

“He’s done for this morning,” the therapist said.

A sheen of sweat coated Troy’s face and his sexy smile had the power to make her palms slick. “Marco thinks I’m getting ahead of myself with rehab,” Troy told her.

“No,” Marco said. “Marco
knows
you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Though Marco didn’t match Troy in height, he beat him in bulk. “I don’t think you understand the extent of your injury. You need to listen to your body, and I can hear it loud and clear, screaming, ‘I need a break!’”

Julie chuckled as she tipped her head in Troy’s direction. “Good luck with him, Marco. I hear he jumps in front of moving bullets.” She lowered her voice in a whisper meant for them to hear. “It’s possible that he’s got a macho complex.”

“Kelly,” Troy said, directing his attention entirely to the platinum blonde, “did you ever get the feeling that people were talking about you as you stood by and listened?” His brows lifted with the question.

Kelly laughed and blushed under the attention. Julie didn’t blame her. Being the recipient of all that testosterone could be hugely unsettling. “We should get going,” Kelly said. “My PT schedule is booked solid today.” She tightened her grip on Julie’s good arm, the sure signal to start moving.

“She is a slave driver,” Julie said as she took a step. “Maybe I’ll stop by your room when I’m done,” she added. “I owe you a visit.”

Troy nodded. “I’d like that. You know where I live.”

“I do now.” Julie’s stomach did a quick flip, almost as if she had a date. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real date with a man she liked. Sure, the tabloids had paired her with a dozen different men over the years. They’d splashed her picture on the cover and come up with some amazing lies. It always astounded her how one meal with a man meant she was sleeping with him. Or showing up to a movie premiere with a costar meant they were now an item.

Her last serious boyfriend had left her years ago. Julie would’ve sworn on a stack of bibles that their relationship would stand the test of time. They were Hollywood’s golden couple for half a decade.

When Lucas Monroe dumped her before
The
Only
Way
wrapped, she’d been devastated. He’d promised he’d be with her forever, had sworn he loved her. But when his own movies had tanked one by one at the box office, he hadn’t been able to handle his girlfriend’s success. The pressure to stay as successful was more than he could handle. Landing the lead role in
Dangerous
Race
had been exactly what Julie needed to forget about Lucas and his empty promises.

From that moment on, she’d vowed to stay out of relationships with other actors. Lucas had been the second and the last. She wanted a guy who had nothing to do with show business.

Troy Mills fit that bill to a tee.

* * *

Troy had just sat down in the chair—his bed be damned—when Julie hobbled in, Kelly at her side, dragging the IV.

Now it was Julie with a coat of perspiration on her face. She didn’t seem to be narcissistic like the other television bigwigs he’d come across while working for Ari. Although Ari had to be the
biggest
narcissist on the planet so it was easy to gauge. The man’s condo was decorated in wall-to-wall mirrors.

Kelly left to find a chair from another room and Julie watched him. She seemed a little flustered, which fascinated him since she was the big-time actress.

“How was your walk?” Troy asked.

“Good,” she said. “How was yours? You look...refreshed.”

He nodded. “I had to de-stink.”

“Sponge bath?” she asked.

He nodded again, not adding that he’d urged the nurse to hurry so he’d be done before Julie got there. He hadn’t wanted to literally get caught with his pants down. “I see you’re familiar with the drill.”