Page 57 of Brutal Ice

“But she didn’t.” Such a glib response. “And now she has her billionaire bodyguard. What a freaking prick.” He straightened. “Lucky girl, though, am I right? Two escapes from death. And a new boyfriend with money to burn.”

Simone swallowed. “Some people have all the luck.” And some didn’t. Some had to fight and bleed for every bit of success they achieved.

He headed for the door.

She stood and hurried to follow him out. “Micah?”

He opened the door but glanced back at her.

“You didn’t hurt Violet?”

A frown pulled at his brows. “I didn’t hurt Violet. What do I look like? Some crazed killer? I want publicity, not blood.”

Right. Some of the tension slid from her shoulders.

Micah caught her arm and pulled her closer. And he kissed her. Even though he knew better. They didn’t ever kiss when someone could see them. The door was open. Someone could be watching.

He let go. When he walked away, Micah was whistling.

Frantic, she looked to the left. No one was there. Her head whipped to the right. No one was?—

The cop. Correction—detective. Tall, dark, silent, and too watchful. His intense gaze was on her. No expression was on his face, but she knew he was making all kinds of conclusions. Wasn’t that what detectives did? Crap. He’d seen the kiss. Had he heard her question Micah?

Detective Curran Barlow ambled toward her. Part of her wanted to turn and flee. Instead, she locked her body down and refused to budge. Never show fear. That had always been her motto. She didn’t show fear when she faced total prick casting directors. She didn’t show fear when she had grueling instructors who wanted her to dance for hours and hours until her feet were bleeding, and she could only limp home.

Never show fear.

Hell, Violet had been the one to first whisper those words to her. At Simone’s initial audition at the conservatory, she’d been shaking like a leaf. Then Violet had sidled up to her and whispered those words. Never show fear. And Violet had smiled at her. The first hint of kindness she’d had in ages.

I am such a shitty friend.

“You’re sleeping with the artistic director,” the detective said.

Her chin notched up. “Don’t really see how that’s your business.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t agree, either. But he did ask, “You think he might have hurt your friend?”

The cop had heard her question. “I think it was an accident.” Simone chose her words very, very carefully. “I don’t think anyone here wants Violet hurt.”

“No enemies?”

“Violet is nice to everyone she meets.” Which was true. “She’s never said an unkind word about anybody on set. She freaking brings in bagels for the crew. She mentors new dancers. She will stay for hours and hours when a certain very demanding artistic director thinks she is not getting a routine exactly right.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Violet has no enemies.”

“But you still just asked your boyfriend if he’d hurt her.”

She tried to remember her exact words. “No, I didn’t ask.” Her heart slammed into her chest. “I made a statement. I said he didn’t hurt Violet.”

“Sure sounded like I heard a question in your voice.”

“Then I am sure you heard his response. He very clearly indicated that he had not hurt her. She’s the star of his show. Why would Micah try and hurt his star?” Her heart raced in her chest, but her voice remained cool. I am not just a dancer. I’ve always been a fabulous actress.

His stare raked her. “Why, indeed?” He turned away. Took two steps.

She began to relax?—

The detective glanced back. “You’re her understudy, aren’t you? I mean, you have other roles that you play, but if Violet were to be unable to perform, you’d step into the spotlight.”

And her heart drummed even harder. “Yes.”

---