She blinks several times. “I can’t forget that day. Oh, Brandon, if you’d died, I would have—”
Almost the very words she uttered in my Bond dream! Maybe my subconscious was telling me she was the one who came to my rescue. I cut her short and put my forefinger to her quivering lips.
“Shh. I’m okay. You saved my life. I would have done the same for you.”
Her glistening eyes grow wide and she gazes up at me. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” At this moment, I realize how much my assistant means to me. I need her like the air I breathe. So much I would kill for her. For a minute, the thought of Donatelli invades my brain and rage fills my bloodstream. The f*ck
ing bastard! I inhale deeply and mentally shove the image of him to the back of my head. Taking in the tranquil beauty around me, I flick Zoey’s upturned nose. All sadness evaporates. She flashes her dimpled smile with those sensuous lips I’ve come to adore. God, she’s cute. A ray of sunshine.
Gucci tugs at the leash and I chuckle. “Looks like someone’s getting impatient. C’mon, let’s hike some more.”
We randomly turn up another desolate winding road. The uphill path is very rustic and rocky. And narrow. It cannot be traveled by car, only by foot. Paparazzi-safe. Zoey and I walk together in silence, she and the dog a little ahead of me as the dirt road isn’t wide enough to accommodate the two of us side by side.
“You okay?” I ask her, amazed by the grace and ease with which she navigates the challenging path. And the way she moves her delicious ass.
“Yeah. This is really beautiful. I’ve never been up this way.”
“Me neither.” At least I think I haven’t set foot here before.
And then Zoey lets out a gasp. She’s stumbled on a loose rock. I catch her before she tumbles and hold her firmly in my arms.
She exhales. “Ooh, that was close. Thanks for the save.”
Letting go of her, I step in front of her. “You don’t need another trip to the hospital. I’m going to lead and I want you to hold my hand.” Her gaze meets mine. Before she can utter a word, I grasp one of her beautiful hands and then continue our upward trek. Gucci keeps up with us.
Stopping once to let Gucci take a leak, we reach the top of the canyon in twenty minutes. The panoramic view is mind-blowing. In one direction, we can see the Griffith Park Observatory, the Hollywood Sign, and the snow-topped San Bernardino mountains. In another, we can see downtown LA with its skyscrapers kissing the cerulean sky, and yet in another, the Pacific.
“Wow! I’ve never seen the ocean that color,” exclaims Zoey, still holding my hand.
“Yeah. It’s pretty amazing.” The color really is remarkable—an intense, dense turquoise. The expanse resembles a rich panel of velvet.
Soaking in the spectacular view, we share a long stretch of silence, our hands still locked together. It’s as if we’ve been connected like this forever. Panting, worn-out Gucci lies down.
A feeling that I cannot describe sweeps over me. It’s more than just the view or the acute awareness of my companion’s long slender fingers entangled with mine. So close to heaven, it’s an aliveness like I’ve never felt before. I wonder if Zoey’s experiencing it too.
Letting go of her soft hand, I gently turn her by her shoulders so she’s facing me. My heart is singing and my cock is humming. With one hand, I tilt up her chin. Her milk chocolate eyes melt into mine.
“Zoey, what are you feeling?”
“The same thing you are,” she whispers.
My lips descend. And then, she jerks away before her soulful eyes meet mine once again.
“Brandon, we should head back. You’ve got to be on the set by two and I have a shitload of work to catch up on.” Her voice is thin and unconvincing.
“Right.” The little dog barks—I’m not sure whether to second the motion or protest it.
We head back in silence, our hands and hearts and pasts entwined. Katrina nowhere on my mind.