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It wasn’t like he was a sucker for every beautiful woman that he met—he wasn’t. Really.
Zara had this magnetism about her. He’d been powerless and he hadn’t even cared.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
He reached up to loosen his tie but it wasn’t there; he’d already taken it off. He undid the top two buttons and made another pass across the room.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Was he going to get in trouble for taking Zara? Was the FBI closing in on him? Where the hell were her people? No one had even tried to stop him! Shouldn’t there be bodyguards and assistants and…and…anentourage?
Not one person around them had tried to step in. Logan Black had yelled at the most beautiful woman in the world and everyone...took a big step back. Punk ass bitches.
“Hey,” came a hoarse voice from the other side of the bathroom door.
His body locked up even as he sprinted that direction. “Do you need anything?” he asked, licking his dry lips.
“Yeah…” She cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, have anything I can wear?” she asked.
Wear?
He frowned. She was dressed when she’d gone in there. In a dark red evening gown that went to the floor. Long sleeved with a high neckline.
What had happened to that?
Oh, right. The vomiting.
“Uhh…” He rubbed the back of his head as he thought. He had his clothes he’d worn on the flight yesterday, his increasingly sweaty tux, and a clean shirt he’d been planning on wearing tomorrow. And a clean pair of boxer briefs that had holes in them.
He could let her wear the clean shirt, but he wasnotletting her see the holey boxers.
He went to his duffel, happy to have something to do for a second to maybe (hopefully) stop him from freaking out. He dug out the shirt and paced back to the bathroom door.
“I have this,” he said, setting the shirt on the floor. “And I’ll be back with pants.” He didn’t wait for her reply before he left the room.
He was down the hall and in the elevator before he’d taken his next full breath.
You know what hadn’t been on his NMA bingo card? Kidnapping a pop star. The idea had never entered his mind.
And yet.
He had been trying to avoid any and all things that would result in press coverage. He knew that accepting Nikki’s award would probably get him a consolatory mention in the bottom of an article or two.
But rescuing Zara Lorna from a public breakup with heridiotboyfriend?
Leaving with her?
Those were things that brought the exact kind of attention heloathed.
What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn’t remember. He must’ve blacked out or something. Nothing that involved self-preservation, that was for sure. But as all his regrets tumbled around in his head, jacking up his internal body temperature, he knew he’d do it again.
He had a distinct memory of Zara’s happy face crumbling in confusion and hurt. After that, it was sort of a blur. He’d just gotten her as far away from Logan Black as he could. Moving completely on instincts he didn’t even know he had.
Instincts that were probably going to get him arrested.
Or at the very least, ripped apart online.
He was going to throw up.
