“She was stripped of her modesty a long time ago,” he whispered, low and stern. “Two months without clothes. She’s immune to nudity.”
Slivers of what Nathan had shared that morning about her captivity pierced through him, stabbing his heart. A lesser person would’ve hidden her pain in shame, but she bared hers with a grace that outshone everyone. “She’s so fearless; it’s easy to forget.”
“I know.” Nathan let out a sharp huff, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t beat yourself up too badly. I’ve had three years to get used to it, and sometimes…” He glanced over his shoulder and watched her rummage through the refrigerator. “I’m still a man.”
That pissed him the fuck off, but the tension retreated when Nathan’s eyes strayed to Tony. It was a lingering look he hadn’t seen on the man before. Okay, Nathan wanted to fuck his bodyguard. That he could live with.
“What’s the plan?” Charlee asked around a spoonful of yogurt and leaned her butt against the counter. Her posture exuded a deliberate calmness, but the way her jaw stiffened around each bite exposed her fear.
He closed the distance and rested his palms on her hips, empting his face of his own fears. There could be men on the surrounding buildings with sniper rifles, hiding in dumpsters, riding by in passing cars. Hell, they could’ve been waiting in the apartment across the hall. If they couldn’t trust the police, they truly were on their own. “The protective team will be ready to move us soon.”
Charlee rubbed her temple. “How many bodyguards?”
“When we’re traveling, they’re a five-man team.” He had another five on reserve at home. Lot of good that did him. He pulled her against him and a quickening buzzed through his body, making him gasp. Maybe it was the stressful energy bouncing between them. Maybe it was just Charlee and the pulse of life itself.
“So there are three of us…we’re principals?” She glanced up at him, arms folded behind her. “That’s what your bodyguards call us?”
He nodded.
“Three principals and five bodyguards.” She unlocked a hand from her back to chew a fingernail. “That’s doable, right? I mean, there are four in your band with five bodyguards.”
He tugged her finger from her mouth. “Guarding the band means holding back energetic crowds and photographers, not snipers and kidnappers.” He thought back over the worst scenarios he’d been in. “I’ve had moments, trapped at the center of closely packed crowds, when I thought I would die, actually thought I would keel over and stop breathing, but my team always escorted me out unharmed.”
What a coward he was, buckling under something as benign as an enthusiastic mob. How many times had she held her shit together while looking in the eye of a rapist and murderer?
At that moment, he realized he could change their current situation by changing himself. There were no easy solutions. But there was an obvious one. “Tony, contact the paparazzi agencies and tell them where I’m at.”
Tony glared. She didn’t like it, but she would follow his orders.
He looked down and floated in the depths of Charlee’s huge eyes. “You’ve been hiding for a long time. You ready to start living?”
“When you have to hide to live, you’re ready for anything.” Her jaw set.
Damn, he loved her fire. “Good, because Roy Oxford knows where you are, and he’s going to watch you walk out of here on whatever camera shit his men have set—” He faltered when she closed her eyes. Fuck, he forgot about the cameras in the penthouse. He raised her chin and waited for her to look at him. “He’s going to watch you walk out of here and there’s not a damned thing he’ll be able to do about it.”
Her lips pinched in a line and the wheels spun behind her watchful eyes. Then she sucked in a breath. “The Craigs can’t nab me if we’re at the center of paparazzi attention.”
“That’s right.” He nodded to Tony.
She pulled out her phone and dialed. She’d called them before, giving them false locations so they could move around effortlessly. This time would be legit. He stood taller, lengthened his backbone.
A frown scrunched Charlee’s face. “You’ll be mobbed. Exactly the kind of thing you avoid.”
He knew she was thinking about his trigger. It was a valid concern, but she would be there to help him transform his stardom from oppressive to useful. “Avoiding isn’t living. I want to live, Charlee, and I want to do so deeply.” With her.
“You don’t have to battle the shit in my life to live yours.”
He pushed the hair from the side of her face, careful of her injuries, and settled his hands on her hips. “Won’t I be battling my own shit at the same time?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you know what happens when you open up?”
She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. “It makes you strong.”
He kissed each lid and whispered against them, “Dare to be vulnerable with me?”