Page 51 of Behind the Scenes
I inched closer, afraid to wake her, and took in the softness of her features. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to do before.
She had been right when she said I was being shy.
I was… embarrassed. I couldn’t believe I let her do those things to me. At one point, I begged for it. I would have taken anything she wanted to do to me. All of which meant I couldn’t deny just how much I enjoyed it.
And she knew it.
Harley didn’t look like someone who would mercilessly murder people, but then again, some of my clients looked like complete angels when they were anything but.
I carefully picked up the script, placed it on the bedside table next to her, and turned off the light.
She was even more dangerously beautiful in the darkness. Against my better judgment, I grabbed my phone and took a picture of her. She didn’t even flinch.
She must be really exhausted.
I jerked back when the thought flashed across my mind.
Am I… worried about her?
I shook my head violently.
She made you sign a contract after killing someone in front of you because she wanted you. Get your fucking shit together.
But even so, I still wanted to know more about her. Who she was, how she worked. Yes, I’d been thoroughly fucked by her, but I was almost disappointed to realize it wasn’t enough.
It would have been so much easier if she was just an itch to scratch.
But now she’s under my skin.
Fuck.
With a sigh, I walked over to my side of the bed, shed the towel, and put on my shorts and tank set. I could have taken theminto the bathroom, but a part of me wanted her to see me in a towel and get greedy.
Except she fell asleep.
I was exhausted myself, so even with the thoughts running in my head, and even if she was next to me, it wouldn’t take me long to crash. Harley had also been right to warn me about being out in the heat for too long.
But just as my eyes were fluttering shut, my cell phone started vibrating.
I grabbed it, noting Ana’s contact showing up.
It was late back on the mainland. She shouldn’t be working.
Irritation ran through me.
“Ana, I thought we talked about office hours?—”
“Laura.” Her voice was low, deadly. The tone was enough to have me sitting up in bed.
My eyes drifted to Harley, but she was still fast asleep.
“Did something happen?” I asked and quietly slipped out onto the balcony so as not to wake the killer. I mean, one would expect a killer to be a light sleeper, right? “Are you okay?”
“It’s not about me,” she said quickly. “It’s you. Listen, I knew it was weird that I couldn’t find anything on her parents last time, so I wanted to do a little more digging, you know?” Fuck. I had totally forgotten to ask her to dig deeper. “I know you didn’t ask for it, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I just felt like?—”
“Ana,” I said, cutting off her panicked ranting. “Just get to the point.”
“Her parents are not Joseph and MaryHart. They’re Joseph and MaryHartford. You know? The Hartfords?”
