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CALL AN
I understood how two paparazzi could wreck a limousine. From the moment we landed in Sydney, the photogs had been relentless. The Falconi movies were a huge franchise both domestically and internationally, and the Australian fans seemed . . . rabid at times. Unlike in Cali, Adrianne couldn’t go out with just one of us. The minute she was recognized, she was mobbed, and a single bodyguard didn’t stand a chance, no matter how big and menacing.
“Suit up today,” Merc told us on the second morning of the trip. Adrianne was in the shower. Usually, one of us would be with her, but today, she’d asked for some time to herself. The paparazzi were making all of us feel claustrophobic. “Somewhere it can be covered. Even with our paperwork all in order to carry in public, we don’t need to scare the locals.”
I scoffed at that. “Maybe that’s exactly what we need to do.”
“I’d rather not get arrested, thanks,” Foster piped in and started threading his holster through his belt. I shrugged on the straps for my shoulder holster. Merc was opting for a lower back holster. We were all going for our comfort spot, where it would be the easiest for us to draw from if need be.
“You check the schedule for today?” I asked. “Where are we going?” Foster and Merc shared a look. “Uh . . . Coober Pedy,” Foster answered. “And that is where?”
The bathroom door opened, and Adrianne came out toweling her hair. “It’s about 1200 miles into the interior,” she said.
“And we’re driving?”
She gave me a pained look. “That would take nearly twenty-three hours of straight driving.”
Dammit, I thought, and sweat puddled in the small of my back. “We’re flying, aren’t we?”
“Sorry, handsome,” she said by way of answer. “Are we at least on the private jet?”
“It’s been hired out for the month while we’re here.” “How much am I going to hate this?”
Merc genuinely thought about it. “We won’t be jumping out of it, but-” “A prop plane?” I instantly hated how squeaky it all came out, but the last prop plane we’d flown in fell out of the sky. Foster and Merc had wanted to go sky-diving in a non-emergent, recreational capacity . . . and
then we’d almost died, and we had to tandem jump out the pilot.
“You can stay back,” Adrianne offered gently. “Coober Pedy is a little far out for paparazzi to drive. I should be fine with Foster and Ethan overnight.”
Over my dead body, I thought flatly. “I’m not going to leave them down a man,” I said.
“Cal, we can handle it,” Foster said, but Merc looked torn. “Ethan?”
“If you can handle the plane ride without having a stroke, I want you there,” Merc said. “I want full coverage anywhere we go, even if the risk of paparazzi is light.”
Adrianne wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t argue. She might have if we hadn’t been so mobbed yesterday, but we’d switched to an interior view of the courtyard so as to not risk people rappelling down the building to get a look in the window. She looked at the clock on the bedside table. “We have to meet the plane in an hour or so,” she said. “The car should be here soon.”
She wandered back into the bathroom to finish getting ready, and we each packed a go-bag. “Are we good to have guns on a plane?” I asked.
Merc paused in his packing. “I’ll look into that,” he said and then stepped out in the hallway to make the phone call.
“Where’s he going?” Adrianne asked, stepping back into the main room. “Needed to make a phone call,” Foster said. “We need to know if we
can carry weapons on the plane.” “Weapons?”
It struck me that she’d never seen our guns before. We didn’t always carry them in the United States-though that would probably change when
we got back, considering the “gift” Adrianne received-but even when we did, we’d all gone out of our way for her not to know. I couldn’t decide whether that was for her comfort or for ours.
“We’re going to conceal carry while we’re here,” I said. “The paparazzi was something that we didn’t expect, and we want to be overly cautious.”
She absorbed that for a moment and then nodded. “Can I see?”
I looked at Foster, who shrugged, and I turned to get my gun case from the closet. I took out my Glock 22, ejected the clip and made sure there was nothing in the chamber, and then handed it to her. “Point it at the ground or the ceiling,” I said. “Even though you saw me empty it, you always treat a weapon like it’s loaded and dangerous.”
Adrianne nodded. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be,” she remarked.
“I like the Glock for the weight,” I explained, “but some people prefer something more lightweight. Foster carries a Kahr because it’s slimmer. It’s very dependent on the person who’s doing the firing.”
“You’ve never been to a gun range?” Foster asked, and Adrianne shook her head.
“My mother would fall to pieces if she knew I was even holding one,” she said. “She hates guns.”
I held my hand out, and she passed the Glock back to me. I checked the chamber again and then inserted the magazine. The Glock went into the holster at my shoulder, and the bag went back into the closet. I had a few other pieces in it, but they weren’t needed for the trip to Coober Pedy.
“We should be good to go!” Merc called as he came back into the room. “Our paperwork covers us since we’re not getting on a commercial flight.” He stopped as he passed Adrianne and kissed her cheek, and she smiled. “Are you packed?”
Adrianne’s suite was, technically, down the hall, but just like at home, she wasn’t a fan of being in a huge room. We’d all spent last night in the double room that the production company had booked for us. “Yes, though I’m sure I’ve got four times as much as you all.”
“I’m not surprised in the least,” Ethan said. “We’ll help you carry it down.”
We grabbed our bags and then went down the hall to grab her bags . . . and she was right, she had more than all of us combined. We went down to find a waiting car, and Merc and I flanked Adrianne in the backseat. Foster
sat in the passenger seat. The click-click of cameras sounded behind us, and I slammed the door a little harder than I should have.
“Hey, man!” the driver turned. “Let’s not break my door, yeah?”
“Sorry,” I said. Adrianne’s hand slipped into mine, and I held onto her like a lifeline. The driver pulled away from the curb and wove his way through the streets out toward the airfield. The turboprop waiting for them looked small from far away. I didn’t imagine that it would get any bigger the closer we got.
To make matters worse, Ryan Jacobs was standing by the plane with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “What is he doing here?” Merc muttered. “No one told me that we were sharing a plane with him. They’re supposed to run everything by me.”
Adrianne’s other hand went into Merc’s, and she held us, comforting us as we pulled to a stop. “Are we ready, folks?” the driver asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Adrianne said, dropping our hands. I opened the door and stepped into the sunshine. Foster did the same. She waited in the car until I signaled for her to get out. Merc got out his side, and he and the driver grabbed the bags from the back.
There was no real “airport”. They checked in at a little hut that served as the air traffic control tower and walked over to where Ryan was standing. “Did you miss your own plane?” Adrianne asked.
Ryan smirked when he saw her. He didn’t even bother looking at any of the heavily-armed men who were accompanying her. Typical Hollywood actor, I thought savagely. He didn’t really see us as people. We were tools to be used and nothing more.
“Lee thought it was best if we ran our lines on the flight,” he said. “He wants to hit the ground running when we get there.”
Adrianne rolled her eyes. “Of course he does.”
Ryan offered her his arm-because they were all aware that there was a camera somewhere near them-and she took it. What else could she do? Foster helped them into the belly of the tiny plane while Merc and I settled the luggage with the airfield’s singular crewmember.
I didn’t realize that my hands were shaking until I was handing bags to the crewmember to load into the plane. “Are you okay?” Merc asked.
“No.” There was no point in lying about it. “I hate flying. I’m going to hate this, but I can handle it. I wouldn’t let anything happen to Adrianne.”
Merc nodded. “Good man.” He clapped me on the shoulder, and then it was our time to climb aboard. The plane was miniscule, only six seats in three rows besides the pilot. Ryan and Adrianne were in the front row, across the aisle from each other, but the seat directly beside her was open. Foster did that on purpose so that I could sit beside her.
I folded myself into the seat-my knees were pressed into my chest. I had no idea how Merc was going to fit into one of those seats-and Adrianne immediately put her free hand into mine. She kept it low so that it would be out of Ryan’s gaze. She didn’t look at him, but it gave me a connection to hold onto. My rapid heart rate slowed for a second, and then the plane’s engines began to turn.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The pilot, a smiling man with silver hair, turned and greeted us. “I’m Captain Steve Perkins,” he said. “I’ve been flying for thirty years, and I love what I do. You just sit tight, and we’ll be in Coober Pedy in a little over an hour, all right?”
Then, Steve turned around, and we began to move, and I gripped Adrianne’s hand tighter. She squeezed back just as hard, but her conversation with Ryan never faltered. “Have you been mobbed by the paparazzi?” she asked Ryan. “I haven’t had a moment to relax.”
“They’ve been pretty bad,” he agreed. “Had one hiding in my bathroom when I got to my hotel.”
The plane began to rush down the runway, and I ground my teeth together as the front wheel left the ground. My chest was suddenly four sizes too small, but I did my best to keep breathing until we pulled level in the sky.
“Uh . . . is your man okay there?” Ryan asked. I looked over, and he was staring at our linked fingers.
Adrianne glanced back at him and smiled. “Cal doesn’t like flying overly much,” she said.
“You’re so . . . sweet to hold his hand through it.”
His tone implied that it was anything but, and to her credit, Adrianne didn’t flinch. Instead, she held out her free hand. “Do you need a hand too?” she asked.
Ryan laughed but waved her off. “Nah, I’m man enough to sit on a plane without holding someone’s hand.”
Fuck you, pretty boy, I thought, but I bit my tongue to keep the sentiment inside my head. “Where’s your security team, Mr. Jacobs?” Foster cut in. “If we’re going to be guarding you as well, we’ll need to do a temporary contract.”
“I don’t have one,” Ryan said. “I don’t need one, I promise.”
I could almost hear Merc’s teeth grinding. “With the level of paparazzi we’ve seen in just the last twenty-four hours, you do,” he said. “We’d be happy to take you on temporarily.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’ve had security details in the past, and I’ve always felt suffocated. I do just fine on my own.”
He probably had the same bullshit security system that Adrianne had when we met her. Maybe a handgun registered under his name that he didn’t know how to use. Merc would set him straight. I could already tell. By the end of tomorrow, Mercado Security would have another client . . . though Merc would get a different team on him. One that wasn’t 24/7 like we were for Adrianne.
The flight wasn’t long, but just as we started to descend, we hit a patch of turbulence that bucked the entire plane. Adrianne squeezed my fingers, a little afraid herself, and it was that that allowed me to remain calm. If she was scared, I had to be strong. There wasn’t any other option.
When the plane was finally on the ground, I could breathe again, and I lessened my grip on Adrianne. “Are you okay?” I asked her.
Adrianne shook out her hand. “I’m fine, Cal.”
The plane taxied for a moment before coming to a stop, and a moment later, we were able to deboard. Putting my feet on solid ground took a weight off my shoulders. “All better?” Foster asked. If it had been Merc asking, I would have told him to fuck off, but Foster’s questions were very rarely anything but genuine.
“I’m fine,” I said. I’d survived, in any case, and we hadn’t had to bail out. Wins all around.
Lee had sent a car to the airfield to collect Adrianne and Ryan. There was only room enough for one more person in the car. “Cal, come with me to the set? Ethan and Foster can take the bags to the hotel?”
Merc didn’t look thrilled about that-he didn’t like the idea of splitting up right now-but he and Foster agreed. She couldn’t be late to set, after all, and as long as at least one of us was with her, she was as safe as she could be.
“Keep your cell on you,” Merc said, and I nodded and patted my pocket. “Call if there are any problems.”
“Let’s hope I don’t have to,” I said before climbing into the passenger seat by the driver. Ryan had climbed into the back with Adrianne and shot me a smug look as he did so.
I really hated that guy.
The drive from the airfield through Coober Pedy was like landing on Mars. Everything was red and dusty. “I can see why Lee wanted to film out here,” I could hear Adrianne say from the backseat. “It’s amazing.”
Ryan made a noncommittal sound at her, but otherwise, he didn’t look up from his phone. “Do you have service?” he asked. “I’ve got nothing.”
Shit. I pulled my cell from my pocket. I had a single bar. It would be enough to call for help if need be, but it would be an iffy thing. When we got to the set, Ryan was swept away to hair and makeup-he was up first, apparently-and one of the production assistants pointed Adrianne and me toward a group of tents that had been erected just outside the filming area.
We found the tent that was assigned to Adrianne and dipped inside. It was surprisingly cool and stocked with snacks and water. “This is nice.”
Adrianne wrapped her arms around my neck. She hugged me for a long while, and I melted into her embrace. “You were so brave on the plane,” she said into my neck. “I was really proud of you.”
“I shouldn’t be so afraid to begin with,” I said. “It’s silly for a grown man to be that afraid of something that people do on a daily basis.”
Adrianne tipped her head back so that I could see her face. “I’m terrified to sleep in a room big enough for someone to easily hide in,” she said. “I’m literally a grown woman who has become so terrified of being alone that I’m not sure how to even do it anymore. Does that make me silly?”
I scoffed and brushed her hair back from her face. “Of course not,” I said. “You’re going through a traumatic experience. I would expect there to be lingering fears.”
“So why is my trauma-related fear normal, but yours is silly? Because you’re a man?”
Well, shit. “Uhm . . . I have no response to that.”
Adrianne buried her face against my neck again and inhaled. “Your fears aren’t silly,” she said.
I cleared my throat and tried to push down the desire to just shrug everything off and clam up. “Thank you,” I said. Her lips brushed my throat, and I shivered. “Adrianne.”
She nipped at my throat, and I cupped the back of her head. “I was thinking about giving you a reward for being so brave,” she said. “Would that be all right?”
Before I could formulate a proper answer, I felt her hands on my belt, pulling it free of the loops. When the belt went loose, she went after the button on my jeans. I tipped her chin up so that she was looking at me and put my thumb on her plush bottom lip. “Are you going to put me in your mouth, Princess?”
She nodded and then reached up to jerk her shirt over her head. She stood in front of me wearing a black lacy bra and a cheeky smirk. “That was the plan.”
Fuck, she’s perfect. I glanced around the tent and saw a chair that was pointing away from the entrance flap. “Come here,” I said to her and walked her over to it. I sat and finished opening my fly so that my cock spilled out of the front of my jeans. “Get on your knees for me?”
I saw a shiver run through her, and she lowered herself to the ground. Adrianne used her hands on my thighs to steady herself, and she leaned in and swallowed as much of my cock into her mouth as she could fit. I groaned at the warm, wet perfection that was her mouth. “You are so beautiful, “I crooned at her.
Then, I heard a sound that could turn blood into ice. Click. Click. Click.
The sound of a camera going off.
We froze.