- Home
- Carole Mortimer
Savage Alpha (Alpha 8) Page 4
Savage Alpha (Alpha 8) Read online
Page 4
“Is there another dressing room you can use?”
Oh good Lord, she was standing here in the hallway, in Jonas’s arms, her mind wandering to thoughts of being with him at her apartment last night, and all the time, behind the door in front of them, her dressing room had been violated.
How the hell was her stalker even getting in here, not once but twice now? Charlie, on the door, was a stickler for signing people in and out, had even checked Jonas’s ID, despite Lily having vouched for him, before grudgingly allowing him to accompany her inside.
Could that possibly mean her stalker was one of the people who worked in the theater?
Oh please God, no.
Apart from Maurice, the assistant director, who was a complete asshole, they were such a likeable bunch. The cast as well as the people working behind the scenes. Lily couldn’t bear to think of her stalker being one of them.
“Lily?”
She looked up at Jonas blankly for several seconds, until she remembered what question he’d asked her. “No.” She pulled out of his arms before stepping away. “I mean, yes, I’m sure there’s another dressing room I could use. But I’m not going to. That’s my dressing room.” She nodded toward the closed door. “And I’m going to use it. I’ll get changed, and then have a word with the scenery guys about painting over the new wall decoration while I’m on stage.”
Jonas would rather Lily didn’t put herself through that. There was no reason why she should. Except her pride.
And the unmistakable fact she was a member of the Knight family. Beautiful, feminine, but with that same steel running down her spine.
“Fine.” He nodded. “But I need to go back inside and check that the room is clear first.”
Her eyes widened. “You think he might be hiding out in the bathroom, ready to pounce.”
“I think I need to check the room.”
Lily looked at him searchingly for several seconds before nodding. “Okay.”
It didn’t take Jonas that long to make sure there was no one in the dressing room itself or the adjoining bathroom. He took a couple of photos of the graffiti with his cell phone while he was in there too, so he’d have a record of it after the scenery guys had painted over it.
Jonas ignored the words and concentrated on the paint itself. Bloodred in color. Consistent eight-inch lettering, which indicated a neatness in the perp. No spray can left behind, so the guy had taken it away with him, which meant there was no chance of getting any fingerprints. From what Jonas had observed last night, the cast of Desperation went in and out of each other’s dressing rooms all the time, which meant there would be dozens of fingerprints in here, and little or no chance of narrowing it down to Lily’s stalker, even if he’d touched anything. Which, if he was as neat as Jonas thought he was, he probably hadn’t.
In view of the graffiti in her dressing room, Jonas wanted to stick close to Lily this afternoon, but when they returned for the evening performance, he would be having a word with the doorman and any other members of the backstage crew available to talk to him. If he was lucky, the doorman would have a record of signing the man in. If not, someone might have seen the guy entering or leaving the theater by other means, or maybe even going into Lily’s dressing room.
The alternative was that the person responsible was one of the people allowed access to the backstage of the theater.
And someone that Lily knew.
“You’re good.”
While she was on stage, Lily had done her best to forget Jonas and the reason he was backstage waiting for her, all her energy concentrated on playing her part to the best of her ability. The applause at the end of the afternoon performance said she had succeeded, and she was now on an adrenaline high.
It was a little disconcerting to realize that Jonas had watched her performance. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?” she teased as she closed the door and instantly wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming smell of fresh paint. But at least the walls of her dressing room were once again a pristine cream.
Jonas checked the room and bathroom before going to sit in the chair in the corner, his face slightly in shadow. “Not for a minute.”
“No?”
“Not when Gabriel had already assured me how good you are, no.”
She shot him a quick glance as she sat down at her dressing table and began to take off her stage makeup. “Gabriel told you that?”
“You seem surprised?”
“None of my brothers particularly approve of my choice of career.”
“But they didn’t stop you.”
“They tried.” She gave a bittersweet smile at the memory of the rows there had been when she had turned down the opportunity to go to university and opted for stage school instead.
“Trying and succeeding are two different things.”
Lily tilted her head as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. “What’s your story, Jonas?”
He didn’t actually move, but nevertheless Lily could sense his sudden tension. “You don’t need to know that for me to do my job.”
“But if we’re going to be spending all this time together…”
“The only time we’ll be spending together is moments like this. I’ll take you wherever you need to go, stand guard, check out the people you see and speak to, see you safely home, make sure your apartment is safe, and then my men will be outside while you’re at home. No conversation necessary.”
She turned to face him. “But it would be more friendly if—”
“This is a job, Lily, not a friendship.”
She flinched at the harshness of his tone and expression. “But—”
“I don’t need any more friends than the ones I already have.”
“And how many is that?” she said scornfully, feeling as if he had slapped her in the face.
“None of your damned business.”
“Does that mean none or dozens?”
“It means mind your own fucking business!” Jonas stood abruptly. “I’ll be waiting outside in the hallway when you’re ready to go.”
Lily’s hands shook slightly as she watched him leave. Jonas wasn’t just the strong, silent type, he was damned unfriendly. To the point of rudeness.
Because she had overstepped a line and asked about his personal life?
Lily had tried to get Asher to open up about Jonas when he called this morning, but her brother either hadn’t known much about the other man or else he wasn’t talking. More likely the latter. Either way, it looked as if Gabriel was the only one who had answers about the enigma that was Jonas, and she wasn’t about to give her eldest brother the satisfaction of her showing a personal interest in Jonas.
Even if it was frustrating as hell knowing so little about a man who posed far more questions than he answered.
The world of acting was a gregarious one, the people in it usually flamboyant and only too eager to talk about themselves, even if that gregariousness was sometimes an act to hide their insecurities.
Jonas was the total opposite. He didn’t have an insecure bone in that magnificent body, for one thing. And he was silent. So silent. And watchful. Unemotional.
He wasn’t unemotional last night, when he lifted me up by cupping my bottom with those large hands and pressing my pussy against the hardness of his cock.
Well…no. But he obviously regretted having done that.
And I should be more worried about the graffiti sprayed over my dressing room, and the person who did it than thinking about the size of Jonas’s hands or his cock!
Could it be someone she knew, someone who actually worked at the theater? She knew Maurice continued to hold a grudge against her, and yes, he was obnoxious and critical every chance he got, but she couldn’t believe even he would do something as sick as this, to try to get rid of her.
No, it had to be someone outside the theater.
“Any coffee with friends, or straight home?” Jonas asked as she came out of her dressing room.
“No time f
or coffee now. Thanks.” She nodded as he held the door out onto the street open for her so they could walk the short distance to where he had parked the SUV, the cold and damp air causing her to huddle down inside her coat, gloveless hands deep in the pockets, her hair loose this evening to keep her ears warm. “I do need to go food shopping on the way home, though.”
Oh yippee. Jonas hated doing his own small amount of food shopping, and he always knew exactly what he wanted—strong coffee, milk, bread—and went straight to it, paid his money, and then left. He’d seen the women in the supermarkets, getting in his way as they tried to decide on the merits of this avocado or that one. It was a piece of fruit, for God’s sake, not bloody rocket science, and if they decided not to buy, after all, then someone else would come along later and buy the fruit they’d manhandled. If he ran a food store, he would have a sign up saying, “you touch it, you buy it.”
“Fine,” he grated.
Lily eyed him mockingly once they were in the warmth of the SUV and he had driven the vehicle out into the flow of traffic. “I have to eat, Jonas.”
Jonas’s fingers tightly gripped the wheel as his thoughts instantly went to the voluptuous curves beneath the red coat Lily was wearing. Big breasts, slender waist curving out to fuller hips. Yes, she would need to eat to maintain that mouthwatering figure.
“Unless you want to take me out for an early supper?”
Jonas glanced away from the traffic long enough to recognize the challenging glint in Lily’s eyes.
“As an apology for being so rude to me earlier?” she wheedled.
He turned his attention back to the road, knowing he had been a bit harsh with Lily earlier. Enough to take her out to supper? No. This was a job, damn it—
“Or I could take you out for an early supper?”
“Persistence should be your middle name!”
“It’s actually Elizabeth.”
Jonas already knew that. He’d done his research after leaving her last night, knew far more about Lily today than he had yesterday. Schools attended, exam results, drama school, boyfriends. The more he knew about Lily, the better chance he had of finding her stalker.
“I’m not hungry,” he replied.
“I am.”
“That’s why we’re on our way to the supermarket.”
Lily breathed an inward sigh. It really was like trying to draw blood out of a stone trying to get Jonas to say more than a few words. She wouldn’t have believed it, but he was even more distant than her brothers. They might be moody and uncommunicative most of the time, but they always had a lot to say in regard to her, even if she didn’t like most of it.
It became clear within seconds of entering the building that supermarkets were another thing Jonas didn’t like.
Although the dark scowl on his face as he accompanied her around the store did have its uses. Other shoppers simply moved out of their way, and the middle-aged woman on the till even packed Lily’s food into a bag for her, eyeing Jonas cautiously all the time she did so. No doubt as a way of getting the glowering six-and-a-half footer out of the shop all the sooner.
He also carried the two bags of shopping back to the car for her.
“I could get used to this.” She grinned as he slid into the driver’s seat beside her after stowing the shopping in the back.
“You really shouldn’t.”
“I bought enough ingredients to make dinner for you too.”
“I told you—”
“You aren’t hungry.” She nodded, looking down at her hands. “Please don’t make me eat alone, Jonas,” she said softly.
Jonas shot Lily a frowning glance. Were those tears he could see balanced on the tips of those thick dark lashes?
Of course it is, you stupid fucker!
Lily might like to give the impression of toughness, but she had still gone through the trauma of seeing her dressing room covered in graffiti filth earlier. Then gone on stage and put on a spectacular performance. This, not wanting to be or eat alone, was obviously a reaction to all that.
He eased some of the tension from his shoulders. “What are we eating?”
She gave him a hopeful glance. “Spaghetti Bolognese.”
“Sounds good.” Jonas cooked for himself, but it was usually a steak or some other meat, with salad or a baked potato, easy stuff that could be quickly prepared.
“Those that eat help cook and clear away.”
He grimaced. “Sounds like one of Gabriel’s dictates.”
“Probably because it is.” She breathed out shakily. “Do we have to tell him about the graffiti?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened. “No negotiation or listening to argument, just yes?”
“Yes.”
“And I thought Gabriel was difficult!”
Jonas gave an unconcerned shrug. “Maybe you’ll appreciate him more when this is all over.”
“Is it going to be over?” Anxiety darkened her eyes.
“Oh, I’ll get the bastard that’s doing this, Lily,” he assured her. “And when I do, I’ll make him eat every one of his filthy words.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
Asking Jonas to eat with her, and the reality of having his large presence in her tiny kitchen as they prepared the meal together were two distinctly different things, Lily discovered a short time later. Even with the help of the glasses of red wine she had poured them.
Jonas had removed the long black leather duster in the warmth of her apartment, and Lily could now appreciate how wide and muscular his shoulders and chest were in the tight navy-blue T-shirt. Faded denims rested low down on his hips, but as Lily discovered when he turned around to put something away in the fridge, his ass was perfectly outlined in the snug-fitting material.
Or do I mean his perfect ass is outlined by that snug-fitting material?
Either way, Lily found Jonas totally overwhelming in the confines of her small kitchen, and it was virtually impossible for the two of them not to brush against each other as they first unpacked the shopping and then moved about the room preparing the ingredients for their meal.
It was a little like being in a cage with a large, untamed beast.
A little?
Make that a lot!
Lily had never felt this sexually aware of a man before. She hadn’t had such a strong reaction even to A-list actor Laurence Seaton—single, blond, ruggedly handsome, and also American—whom she had met and worked with in Barbados the previous year, when she’d been given a small part in one of his movies.
Jonas gave out a natural heat from that tall and powerful body, with that heady male musk still detectable beneath the lemon and spice of his aftershave. If he had shaved; the perpetual dark stubble on the square strength of his jaw said he didn’t bother with that very often. The blue-black stubble suited him somehow, added to that edge of danger Jonas wore like a second skin.
“What do you want me to do with this?”
Lily looked at Jonas blankly for a second or two, until she realized he was holding up the packet of spaghetti they had bought. “Haven’t you ever cooked spaghetti before?”
“I cook, but mainly with a microwave or barbeque. Does Gabriel cook?” He placed the packet down on the work surface as she eyed him mockingly. “Or any of your other brothers, for that matter?”
He had a point. Gabriel had moved all the family to London after their parents died, using the money left to them to buy the house and hire a housekeeper to cook and clean. It made life easier but also meant none of her brothers cooked. Lily had only taught herself to do so these past couple of years, since she had lived in her own apartment. She had no idea of Jonas’s living arrangements—or anything else about him—but she doubted he would welcome a live-in housekeeper invading his space.
But maybe a live-in girlfriend?
Or a wife?
Just because Jonas seemed like such a loner didn’t mean he didn’t have one or even both of those things. He had certainly
shut down that moment of intimacy quickly enough between the two of them last night.
“What?” That scowl was back on Jonas’s brow as he caught her staring at him.
She moistened her lips as she thought how best to phrase her next question. “I was wondering… Am I keeping you from being with someone right now?”
He folded his arms across his chest to lean back against the kitchen unit. “Define someone?”
“Mother, sister, wife, girlfriend?”
“None of the above.”
Lily breathed an inward sigh of relief. She wasn’t comfortable lusting after someone who was already taken.
Lusting after?
Well…yes. No point in denying something that was so obvious. To her, at least. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Jonas since they met last night. She only hoped that lust wasn’t as apparent to him. That would be too embarrassing.
Her eyes widened as she realized what he had said. “Your not-Apache mother is dead?”
“She was dead to most of her upright English family long before she breathed her last breath,” he said harshly.
“Your mother was English?”
“Yes.”
“How on earth did your parents ever meet?” Lily prompted without thinking, and then realized her mistake as Jonas’s eyes narrowed in warning. “Sorry, that was incredibly rude of me.”
He sighed. “You aren’t going to stop asking questions until you know, are you?”
“I’m interested in people. Most actors are. Writers too, I believe.”
“And are you, personally, interested in people in general? Or just me?” His eyes were dark and stormy.
Had it suddenly got very hot in here, or was she the only one that felt it? And had the room shrunk too, so that she and Jonas seemed much closer than was comfortable?
Lily had a feeling that the answer to both those questions lay in Jonas’s sudden tension, and knowing she was the complete focus of those dark blue eyes. “Only you,” she acknowledged gruffly.
His mouth thinned. “My parents met at Harvard, where they were both taking a law degree. When they graduated, they married, and went back to the reservation in Arizona to fight for Native American rights. I was born there. Heard enough?”