Too Far Gone by Debra Webb, Regan Black Page B

as the woman had recognized Lauren, something in her eyes had changed.
    How bizarre was it that the two things she and Vanya had in common were Desmond and his murder? Only Vanya was the witness and possible other woman, while Lauren was the girlfriend and person of interest. She should be angry that the other woman had helped put her in this position, but somehow she wasn’t. They had both been deceived and used by ruthless men. Who knew if either of them would survive what was to come?
    Lauren’s gaze drifted to the closed bathroom door. As awful as all this was, if it hadn’t happened she wouldn’t have met Mike, a man she wanted to know beyond his abilities as an investigator and bodyguard. That startling thought shook her. Now who was twisted? This wasn’t the right time for silver linings and happily-ever-afters. They were both in a great deal of danger and if there really were women being held hostage at that school or whatever it was, they needed help.
    “Lauren?”
    She jumped, the firm tone and gentle shake of her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. She stared at him, and then did a double take. Mike wore nothing but a towel slung low across his lean hips and her body responded, going hot. She closed her eyes, but it was too late. Some things couldn’t be unseen. Not that she’d suffer if
this
image haunted her for a lifetime.
    His torso would’ve kept Leonardo da Vinci enthralled for hours, it was that perfectly defined. Dark hair dusted his pecs and speared down past his navel, disappearing under the towel. She jerked her gaze back up, studying the tattoo of an elaborate compass star that decorated the left side of his chest.
    “You’re... fit,” she blurted, regretting it instantly. “Excuse me.” She stumbled toward the desk chair. “I’ll just make that call for the food now.”
    “I would’ve dressed first, but you didn’t answer me. When I turned off the water it was too quiet in here. I called your name twice.”
    She used the menu as a fan, vainly trying to cool the embarrassment heating her cheeks. There was no point denying her obvious attraction to him. “I was just thinking.”
    “All right.” He returned to the bathroom and fool that she was, she watched him go. He moved with such stealth and grace. “I was worried you’d left,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.
    She shook her head. “You’re stuck with me.” And now she was stuck with the delectable image of his flawless body. When she felt like she could place the order in a normal voice, she called it in.
    The task done, she searched for another distraction. Anything to keep from staring at the perfectly good bed in the room. She’d done love scenes, on the soap and in movies. Giving viewers the gasps, grasps, and glimpses they wanted meant leaving modesty in the dust. Despite sheets and modesty panels, exposure was part of the process on a set.
    When hunky men were slated for love scenes, it seemed like every woman involved with a studio created a reason to slip into the closed set. It made her unreasonably jealous thinking of Mike being ogled—especially considering he wasn’t an actor and they weren’t a couple.
    What was wrong with her brain tonight? “I’m being ridiculous,” she muttered, pushing to her feet. On instinct she moved to the window and caught herself just before she opened the curtains. They couldn’t take a chance that someone had followed them and might be watching.
    “Restless?” Mike asked, his deep voice drifting across her senses.
    “You have no idea,” she replied, refusing to turn around.
    “You might be surprised,” he said. “Come sit down, Lauren.”
    She closed her eyes. There wasn’t much choice. It was either stare at the curtains, counting the swoops and flowers in the fabric, or be a grown up and deal with the situation. She was an accomplished actress surely she could pull off being indifferent rather than insanely attracted to the man hired to protect