opened her mouth to deny it, but he flicked his hand in the direction of the door. “Go on in. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have a female visit him in his trailer. He might even be grateful for the distraction.” His smile was quick and feral as he loped off in the opposite direction.
“Mac?” She poked her head around the door. He was slumped in a seat with his head between his knees; she could hear him pulling in breaths, deep and even. Disturbed, she stepped forward.
“Are you okay?”
His head shot up, and he took a moment to glower at her before he dropped it between his knees again.
Concerned, she sidled in and kneeled at his feet. He looked so sick, a horrible shade of green, and as he pulled his head up to stare at her, she could see the beads of sweat covering his top lip, hear him sucking air in through his teeth and blowing it back out again through pursed lips as though he was trying not to panic.
“What’s wrong?”
His beautiful, dark brown eyes were stricken. Her heart shuddered with fear, and she placed her hand on his knee as sympathy oozed.
“They’re going to throw me off the top of a cooling tower.”
“Oh my God, why?” Her heart played treble time, and she shuffled closer, her hand coming up to soothe his shoulder as his anguished eyes appealed to her.
“So they can film it.”
She almost heard the screech of brakes inside her head as her heart staggered around in her chest in confusion, before it had the decency to return to normal. She removed her hand and sat back on her haunches, not knowing who to feel more exasperated at—him for being pathetic, or her for falling for it. She shook her head.
“I would imagine they’re going to pay you quite handsomely to do it.” She folded her arms across her chest as all traces of compassion evaporated.
His gorgeous mouth turned sullen at the tone of her voice. His dark eyes narrowed at her, hardened. “Ten million.”
“To jump off a freaking tower?” She gave his leg a resounding slap and almost apologized as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened at her familiarity. She was fairly certain not many people slapped Cormack Blunt these days, and she’d even surprised herself, but she still had to know. “They’re going to pay you ten million pounds to jump off a tower?”
“Dollars. It’s less than pounds. And I’m not jumping; they’re going to throw me off!” He straightened up, looked a little less green as his irritation with her brought his color flooding back.
“Well, I suppose it’s what happens when you’re a superhero.” She couldn’t help the waspishness creeping into her voice. It was, after all, his job. His luxurious job. In any case, they’d probably have a stunt man do it for him; he probably only had to hang off the edge for a moment.
“Action hero. There’s a difference.”
“What’s that, then?” She smiled sweetly at him and blinked slowly.
“Action heroes don’t fly.”
“Oh.” She stared at him in silence and then clucked her tongue and gave a quick, evil grin. “Could be a handy gift to have right now.”
“Jeez, Zoe. Don’t joke about it; you surely remember I hate heights.”
She remembered. He hadn’t been able to stand on the edge of Major’s Leap without nearly fainting; his tall frame would sway dangerously as he stared transfixed straight down the precipice. She shrugged; her voice when she replied was deceptively soft. “I can’t remember. It’s a long time ago.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. He knew she was lying; she could see it in his eyes. She gulped and let her gaze slide away from his.
“I need to talk to you about Ryan.”
“Does Security know you’re here?”
“Of course they do. What do you think? I’d crawl through barbed-wire fencing to get to you?” She smirked, thinking he had no idea how truthful it was, and now she was quite happily going to hit him with a lie. “They told me where to find you. The guy with the
Eleanor Coerr, Ronald Himler