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She lifted her chin. Hell, she was no stranger to some embarrassment and humiliation. Being an actor, you frequently had to deal with bad reviews, critics, and Internet trolls.
She’d probably never see Deputy Hottie again, anyway. She was here to lie low.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
She needed to finish her shower and attempt to cook some dinner with the groceries she’d bought after she’d landed. Hopefully she could manage that without burning the house down.
CHAPTER TWO
She woke up, heart pounding.
Hollis sat up. The bed was a mess and her eyes were gritty. She hadn’t slept well thanks to the nightmares. She hadn’t slept well since this entire situation had started. She pushed her tangled hair back and sighed.
Another day powered by coffee.
Except that the coffee machine was a burnt husk that she’d dragged outside and dumped in the trash.
Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands, trying to shake off the night spent staring at the ceiling, dreaming of shadowy figures, hearing noises, and worrying that someone was going to break in.
No one’s going to break in, Hols. No one knows you’re in Hawaii.
She rose and opened the curtains.
“Oh.” The beautiful ocean water sparkled a brilliant blue. She felt some of the tension drain away as she soaked in the view.
She was far away from the person who was tormenting her.
She knew who was behind it.
Michael Reuben—eccentric and powerful movie producer. She’d gone to a party at his Hollywood mansion. One, shewanted it noted that she didn’t even want to go. No, her agent had talked her into it. She still hadn’t quite forgiven Tavion for it.
While she’d been looking for the bathroom in the huge, sprawling house—and counting down the minutes until she could leave—she’d gotten lost. She’d heard Reuben’s voice down the hall and overheard him talking to someone. She’d only picked up a few words about shipments and sanctions. Then he and whoever he was talking with had spoken in Russian.
As far as she knew, Reuben wasn’t Russian.
She’d tried to sneak off, but one of Reuben’s bodyguards had spotted her. A creepy guy with a scar on his cheek and a knife, of all things, on his belt. She’d flashed him an Oscar-worthy smile.
“I’msolost. I’m looking for the ladies’ room.” She added a little hiccup and a tipsy grin for effect.Drunk woman, nothing to worry about.
Scarface scowled at her, then Reuben stepped out of his office. In his sixties, he was of medium height, with a rotund middle, and a long, hawkish nose. He always wore a suit.
“Oh, Michael, I didn’t know you were up here,” she said. “Why aren’t you at the party?”
“I’m returning now.” He shot her a hard stare.
Full of nerves, it had taken all the acting skills Hollis possessed to keep her smile in place.
“The bathroom is down the next hall,” Reuben said. “On the left.”
“Thank you.” She gave a breezy wave and turned.
In the bathroom, she’d felt sick. She knew she’d heard something she shouldn’t have. Shipments of what? And if they were going to or from Russia, it had to be something very illegal. She knew there were so many sanctions on the country right now.
Hollis had tried to blow it off and forget.
But after that night, things had started happening. She was sure she was being watched, and a few times, she was certain she’d been followed.
That wasn’t uncommon for her. The paparazzi were a constant pest, but this had felt different.