Dirty Games (Tropical Temptation)

The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. “I’m not worried.” He ran his thumb along her cheek. “We’ll work out the logistics—”

The chime of a phone in the distance put some turbulence under her soaring heart.

“That’s you,” he said, and gave her butt a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, shifting them both into a sitting position, and handing her waterlogged bikini bottoms back to her.

Indecision tore at her, but family worry won out. She took the bikini and scrambled up. “I better check. Callum might have surfaced.”

She snagged her top from the sand on her way to where they’d parked the bikes. Her phone fell silent in the outer pocket of Luke’s backpack. After slipping her bottoms on, and looping the top around her neck, she lifted her phone, tapped the screen and saw Eddie had called. A text from him arrived in the next second. Two words, all caps. CALL ME!

Sensing Luke behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and tried for calm. “Eddie. He wants me to call.” Jesus. So much for her acting ability. She sounded like a nervous wreck. Apparently Luke picked up on it, because warm, steadying hands folded over her shoulders. For a moment, she let herself lean against him. Let his strength support her. Seep into her.

“It will be okay, Trouble. Trust me. Whatever happens, I’m here.”

She swallowed the ball of emotion trying to choke her throat, and managed a nod. After hitting the call icon, she wedged the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and reached behind her to tie her bikini top.

Luke’s long, nimble fingers took over the task. The second ring ended abruptly as someone picked up on the other end.

“We have a problem.” Eddie’s no-nonsense voice snapped over the line.

“Callum?” Her pulse raced, thrumming loud in her head. She pressed the phone more tightly to her ear.

“No. I haven’t heard from him, and none of the feelers I put out have come back with anything yet. Quinn, this is about you.”

Worry for her brother subsided slightly, but a nameless new anxiety licked along her spine. “Me? What have I done? I’ve been here.”

“You posed for some pictures. Based on how you look, I’m going to say the photo session occurred about six weeks ago. Needless to say, they were not your best shots.”

“I posed for pictures? Impossible. I haven’t had a shoot since…” Her mind went blank.

“There are four shots—one from every angle. You’re wearing underwear.”

“Those sound like my—” Her world took a sickening turn, and only the solid feel of Luke at her back stabilized her. “Oh God. I know what they are.”

“They hit the tabloids today. All four. Along with some snide speculation about whether the Lena Xavier cat suit comes with Spanx.”

“That’s impossible.” A fog of denial clouded her thoughts, and refused to lift. “I’m the only one who has them.” Except Luke. He had them, of course, because he’d taken them, but he wouldn’t share them with anyone. “A hack?”

“Doubtful,” Eddie said. “We set you up with state-of-the-art security. I wouldn’t let any of my clients run around with anything less. Once you’ve had a high-profile client’s personal data compromised, and experienced the joy of FBI agents sniffing around your systems searching for the source of the security breach, you get to be kind of a stickler about stuff like that. But Quinn,” he went on, “how they leaked is a secondary issue at the moment. What matters is the studio brass panicking. The Dirty Games executive producer called me a half-hour ago wanting to cancel your contract. I told her the pictures are old, and you’re in the best shape of your life. Then I talked her into meeting with us before she made the stupidest decision of her career.”

“When?” She forced the word through numb lips. The cold seeped bone deep. Sharp, icy pain lanced through her chest.

“Tomorrow afternoon, at the studio. Lisa’s booking your return flight as we speak. She’ll send you the itinerary as soon as it’s final.”

“Just sent it,” his assistant broke in. “You fly out this evening. Everything is taken care of. A car will pick you up from the villa in ninety minutes.”

“Okay. All right.” An hour and a half to get back to the resort. Clean herself up. Pack. She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I have to get moving.”

“Get moving,” Eddie agreed. “And Quinn?”

“Yes.”

“If you want to keep the role, focus on this. Focus on knocking them on their asses during the meeting tomorrow, because you need to convince them you’re the only actress on the planet who can play Lena. I know you’re worried about Callum, and you’re wondering how the tabloids scored those pictures. I’m on both of those situations. Don’t waste time and energy speculating on the what-ifs. I’ll update you as soon as I know anything.”

“Thanks Eddie. I—” She wanted to tell him there was only one other possible source for the photos, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Thank you.”

“This is why you pay me fifteen percent. Travel safe, and bring your A game to the meeting.” With that, he clicked off the line.

Behind her, Luke’s hands stilled. She stepped away from him, and despite the heat of the day, a prickly chill tightened her skin. She dug deep for the nerve to turn and face Luke. He stared at her, eyes intense, his handsome face full of concern.