She glanced down to assess the damage and groaned. “I think it’s past saving.”
“Good.” He kneeled down and with a quick rip tore the remaining skirt off her dress.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to stop him. But she was too late. What had once been a slinky, scarlet, floor-length evening gown was now the length of a cocktail dress. A very short cocktail dress, with an uneven hemline that barely covered the granny pants.
Shit. Her PA was going to have to be very inventive to explain these new modifications to the designer.
He handed the torn expanse of fabric to her, then removed his jacket. “Cover yourself with this.” He helped her into the jacket, then placed his hand on her lower back to guide her between the cars.
To a motorbike.
No, not just any motorbike. A KTM offroad bike, with fiery orange paintwork and gleaming chrome. Not exactly subtle, but it was close and wouldn’t get stuck in the traffic jam out front. Nina nearly wept with relief.
A quick escape was worth the loss of one couture ball gown.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, handing her the helmet hooked over the handle- bars.
“There’s only one,” she pointed out.
“I wasn’t expecting to leave with a passenger. You wear it. Anything happens to that pretty face, you can kiss your career goodbye. But my career…” He shrugged. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
The helmet was going to wreck the beautiful curls her stylist had labored over all day. But no one would see her now. They were as good as home free.
She pulled the helmet on, her fingers fumbling with the chin-strap. Dom stepped close to help her and she caught her breath.
A light bulb popped.
She looked around.
Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse…they did. Not a bulb, but a camera flash.
The pap who’d spotted them gave a shout and began to run toward them, camera held high.
Dom lifted her onto the back of his bike as if she weighed nothing, then straddled the seat between her legs and revved the bike to life. The roar nearly drowned out his voice. “Where are we going?”
“Anywhere,” she shouted back. Anywhere but home. The condo was barely a few blocks from here and the press would be all over it in two minutes as soon as this story broke.
She laughed. “I’m starving. I’d kill for a burger right now.”
Dom grinned back at her. “Hold on tight. I know just the place, but it’s gonna be a long drive.”
Once he’d put enough distance between them and Sunset Plaza, and he was sure they didn’t have a tail, Dom slowed the bike.
It was the perfect night for the long twisting ride along Sunset Boulevard. A clear spring evening, with a cool breeze sweeping in off the ocean and a pretty woman with her arms wrapped around him.
And to think he almost hadn’t gone to Graydon’s party.
There was no way he could take her to 25 Degrees now. Or any place else where she might be spotted and recognized. Not in a torn evening gown that barely covered her ass. Even with the ban on social media at the party, he’d bet the story was all over Twitter by now.
She’d turned down Paul de Angelo – the most eligible bachelor in this town and one of the few people who could be called a ‘star’ these days. She was either very brave or very stupid, but either way he admired her. In a town so full of fake it was almost impossible to recognize real, Nina Alexander surprised him by being real. A woman who said what she thought. There weren’t a lot of actresses who knew how to do that anymore.
No wonder de Angelo had stormed out the party. He’d been in this town so long he probably didn’t know how to deal with someone who didn’t play the game by his rules.
At the end of Sunset, where the ocean stretched wide and the bright moon cast a silver beam across the water, Dom turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway. The salt-tanged wind whipped about them and Nina’s grip tightened around his waist.
When he glanced back at her, she was smiling, looking more relaxed than she had all evening and a whole lot less like she wanted to cry. Then she rested her cheek on his shoulder and he concentrated on the road ahead.
In Malibu he cruised into the McDonalds drive-thru and pulled up at the window. Nina shifted behind him, relaxing her grip around his waist as he placed their order. Then she held the paper bag between them for the few more miles it took to reach his destination.
He parked at the side of the road, deserted at this early hour, and climbed off, stretching stiff legs. His hip ached, more than usual, and he rubbed it absently before helping her down from the bike.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “Where are we?”
“Point Dume, the best beach in LA. Not a great surfing beach, but I love to come here when I need space to think.” The ideal place to escape the crowds and the hustle of the city.
He guided her along the trail to the steep, metal staircase, which plunged down to the rocky shore. She removed her shoes, then followed him cautiously down the dark stairs. As they walked along the rocks to the sandy part of the beach, a series of barks drifted to them through the dark.
“Only the sea lions,” he said, catching Nina’s shudder.
Her gaze stayed on the patch of darkness the sounds had come from. “Is it safe here?”
“Safer than most public beaches after dark.” There wasn’t much he was afraid of, and the odd homeless drifter punting for change certainly didn’t bother him.
They sat on the beach and looked out over the moonlit sea as the waves washed in, digging their toes into the soft sand. He took the packet of fries Nina refused, smiling as she bit into the burger. She closed her eyes and savored the taste, all her concentration focused on the food.
“What?” she asked, looking up and catching his grin. She wiped at the sauce dribbling down her chin. “Have I sprouted another head? Or are my granny pants showing again?”
“No, though now I’m really tempted to take a peek under that jacket. It’s a rare sight to see a woman enjoy her food the way you do.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.” He licked his salty fingers. “Who’s Sonia? Your agent said you could kiss Sonia goodbye.”
“Sonia Fairchild.”
He shook his head. “I’m still not getting it.”
“From the Revelations books.”
“Books? Those are the things you have to sit down for hours on end to read, right?”
Nina’s wide, dark eyes reflected the moonlight. “You don’t read?”
“Unless it’s the Hollywood edition of Vanity Fair, no. Would that be a deal-breaker?”
She bit her lip for a moment, considering him. He didn’t need to be a genius to decode that look. He’d seen it often enough on other faces over the years. She was figuring him for all brawn and no brains, the stereotypical stuntman. He shrugged it off and tossed the empty fries packet into the paper bag.
“The Revelations trilogy is a fantasy series in which angels and demons come down to earth to fight the final battle between good and evil. Sonia’s an ordinary girl trying to get