didn’t want to want this woman. And, yet, he couldn’t seem to stop his physical reactions to her—all of them.
“I’ll have wardrobe come to your room in about an hour. You might want to take a shower.”
Asher forced out a wicked grin. He chose his words carefully, deliberately. “You telling me I’m dirty, angel?”
She popped out a hip, balling a fist on it and glaring at him with irritation.
“Just so we’re on the same page, are you planning on cooperating or making this whole experience a pain in my ass?”
He lifted a single eyebrow.
“Yeah, I know the question is stupid, but I had to ask.” She let out a heavy sigh, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Suddenly, he could read all the little signs of exhaustion written into her face—the miniscule lines crinkling the corners of her mouth, the faint smudges of blue beneath her eyes, her drooping shoulders—and he wanted to fix it for her.
Shit.
“I have no intention of making your life difficult.”
She laughed, the sound far from humorous. “We both know that isn’t true, Ash. You delight in making my life difficult.”
“Not this time.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head, the soft cloud of honey-blond hair swirling around her shoulders. He wanted to take a handful of it and run it through his fingers to see if it was as silky as it looked.
He wanted to walk away from her and the weakness she caused deep inside him. That’s what he’d been doing for the past two years. Hell, that’s what he’d done his entire life. But today there was nowhere left to go. They were stuck together on this ship, and Kennedy was about to become his shadow.
His body throbbed at the idea of her being so close. Nope, not good. He couldn’t want her. He couldn’t touch her. She was Jackson’s little sister, forbidden fruit.
Asher had no doubt what his friend’s reaction would be if he ever touched Kennedy. Jackson was protective of his little sister, rightly so. He’d seen his friend put a fist through the face of a guy who had the misfortune of making a rather racy comment about Kennedy within Jackson’s hearing. Poor bastard hadn’t realized what had hit him until he was ass-down on the floor.
Jackson was family, but there was no question in Asher’s mind who he would choose if forced to take sides.
And no woman, not even Kennedy, was worth losing the only family he had and the business he’d invested his entire future in.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she finally said, spinning away and leaving him standing alone on the deck.
* * *
KENNEDY STOOD OFF to the side, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the crew work. It was intriguing, her first shoot, although she had to admit she wasn’t thrilled with the way Carmen, the makeup artist, was smiling and flirting with Asher. If she giggled one more time...
As if the man needed makeup to look gorgeous anyway. She had no doubt the camera was going to love him. Those mesmerizing eyes, sharp cheekbones and the tiny scar running right along the side of his lips...rakish, charming with the perfect dash of dangerous.
They’d commandeered the office. It was deep inside the belly of the ship, so a little darker than they’d wanted, but it provided a kind of professional setting the director was aiming for in these first shots, establishing Asher’s experience and expertise before following him into the water.
She and Daniel, the director, were murmuring about the schedule when Asher’s raised voice drifted up from the other side of the room.
“I’m not wearing that.”
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor grated down Kennedy’s spine.
Asher stood up, pulling out the paper towels Carmen had tucked into his collar to protect his dark navy T-shirt and threw them on the ground. “Kennedy!”
Everyone in the room turned to look at her. Dread and frustration spun in her belly. Beside her, the director stiffened. Biting back a curse, Kennedy narrowed her eyes, preparing for the explosion she could see coming.
The production company was already displeased that they were getting Asher instead of Jackson. She’d promised everyone involved that not only was Asher as knowledgeable about the Chimera, but that he’d be happy to cooperate with whatever they wanted to do.
So she’d basically lied, praying that she could keep control of the situation.
This outburst wasn’t a good omen.
Spearing her with his gaze, Asher growled, “Get over here and fix this.”
Throwing Daniel a tight-lipped smile, Kennedy excused herself and stalked over to where Asher stood in the corner of the room. The brunette with the brushes stared at them with wide eyes. The guy from wardrobe shifted on his feet, a suit—complete with matching vest and what appeared to be a bow tie—draped across his arms.
Asher lived in jeans, T-shirts, board shorts and flip-flops. He occasionally bowed to convention and put on a dress shirt and slacks for business meetings. She’d seen pictures of him in his military uniform and knew he must have worn formal dress on occasion. She remembered him wearing a suit once...but it definitely hadn’t involved a vest and bow tie.
The thought of him with that brightly colored scrap of cloth tied around his neck had laughter bubbling up inside her throat. She tried to swallow it back but wasn’t successful.
She took one look at Asher’s angry expression and the wardrobe guy’s hopeful gaze and knew this wouldn’t end well.
“Tell him I’m not wearing this.”
She shook her head. If she opened her mouth, she wasn’t going to be able to keep the laughter in. And that would not help the situation at all.
Kennedy hadn’t realized Daniel had followed her until his voice sounded behind her. “What’s the problem?”
Crud, she needed to fix this before Asher opened his mouth and said something they’d all regret.
Better they think her crazy. Kennedy let the laughter she’d been holding back fill the space between them.
Every pair of eyes turned to her. Asher’s eyebrows arrowed together, his mouth pulling down at the edges, making the white slash of his scar pop into sharp relief.
She held up a finger, pulled in a deep breath and was eternally grateful when everyone waited.
By the time she’d regained her composure, Asher had crossed his arms over his massive chest, biceps bulging. Damn the man was gorgeous.
Turning away, she directed her words to Cody, the wardrobe guy. “Look, I get what you’re trying to do. Does he look like a suit kind of guy? He spends most of his time wet and/or covered in sand.”
“But surely...” Cody began, his words trailing off as he took in Asher standing like a forbidding Greek god.
“Why don’t we compromise?” Turning to Asher, she continued, not giving anyone a chance to quash her plan. “Asher, I know for a fact this isn’t the first time you’ve worn a suit.”
“Baby girl, the last time I wore a suit like this was for my wedding. And the fact that my ex insisted should have been a clue the marriage was doomed.”
Kennedy tried not to react to his words. She’d had no idea he’d been married. No one had mentioned it to her, although she supposed there really hadn’t been a reason.
That little tease of information made her want to dig for more, but she pushed the urge away, trying to focus on the problem in front of her instead.
“One of the benefits of owning my own business is that I get to do what I want, which includes wearing whatever’s