1
If doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result was the definition of insanity, Zahara Parrish would be considered certifiable.
At least by Hollywood outsiders.
But here, surrounded by cast, crew, and fellow stuntmen on a cliff overlooking the Pacific in Los Angeles, Zahara was in crazy company.
She tugged and jerked on every ring, every hook, every connection of her safety harness, then turned to the cameraman who would follow her down and repeated the thorough check.
“Stop stallin’.” Keaton, Renegades’ best fighter and a top-level black belt in more martial arts disciplines than Zahara could name, bounced on his toes and shadow-boxed the air. “You act like you’ve never taunted the reaper before.”
“Easy for you to say, Kung Fu.” Zahara gave the cameraman a you’re-done slap on the back. “You’re not the one going over the side.”
Chase laughed, and Zahara turned his direction.
As the film’s lead, Chase Layton had claimed his right to perform the final stunt with Zahara instead of letting his stunt double—Keaton—take this fall. While she had no doubt Chase would handle the stunt like a pro, distractions in her line of work could be lethal.
And this man was most definitely distracting.
She ushered him forward with a come-hither finger, and Chase responded with one of those lightning-hot grins, making her insides pop and sizzle.
With his arms out to the side, Chase approached, his swagger confident and sexy. The Los Angeles sun added a lick of gold to his wheat-and-honey hair and a sparkle to his sky-blue eyes. “Play with me as much as you like.”
That brought a few laughs from the crew. Zahara would have laughed too, if this had been their first week together on the set and not their eighth. If they were still happy-go-lucky acquaintances and not good friends with enough chemistry to turn this movie into a literal blockbuster.
The intense way Chase’s gaze never left hers screamed let’s do this—a message that went deeper than the stunt.
And, oh, the things she’d love to do with this man.
Unfortunately, those would never happen. Something she’d been telling herself for two long months.
She gave the strap across his chest a hard pull.
“Little lower.” His murmur trickled down her neck like a touch.
She tested the connections at his hips.
“You’re getting warmer.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive here.” Zahara straightened, unable to hold back her smile. “Turn around.”
“That’s a little kinky, but I’m game.” And he turned.
“What you are is an insatiable flirt.” She tugged on the harness stretching across his back, waist, and hips.
Damn. The man had one fine ass.
“All your excuses are going to evaporate in about…” He twisted his wrist and pretended to look at an invisible watch. “Oh, maybe twenty more minutes.”
That wasn’t something she was ready to address. She smacked the middle of his back. “You’re good to go.”
“Not exactly the attention I was hoping for.” When he faced her, she caught the glint of hard-core determination in his gaze. “But we can save the good stuff for later.”
She searched his expression for the real emotions beneath his teasing. For any nerves or hesitation he might be covering.
And, as always, he seemed to read her thoughts as if they were written on her forehead. His fun-loving flirtation faded into warmth and sincerity. “Hey.” He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’m ready.”
“Come on, you two.” Keaton popped their intimate bubble. “Let’s see some action.”
“A man after my own heart.” Chase brushed hair off her cheek. “Have I mentioned how much I hate this wig?”
“Only every day for two months.” She started toward Keaton, who stood several yards away. “Come here, badass. Let me check your life line. Your wife would kill me if I let you do something as stupid as fall off a cliff.”
“Says the woman who’s going to jump.” Keaton swung out with a roundhouse kick that missed her nose by an inch.
Zahara didn’t flinch. “Would you stop? I have to make sure you go home to that adorable baby of yours tonight.”