Читать книгу A Risk Worth Taking - Zana Bell - Страница 14

“AND ACTION!”

Cressa hurtled down the hillside, through the forest, at a teeth-rattling speed. Trees, tightly packed on either side, swept past in a blur. Cracks of machine gun fire stuttered overhead and a bomb exploded as she shot by, showering her in earth and leaf mold. Her concentration remained zeroed in on the thin path zigzagging downward in front of her. Tree roots, rocks and rotting logs were the real hazards in this sequence.

She hit her skid mark as Jasper leaped out in front of her, brandishing a hand grenade. Gunning her bike, she whirled and plunged down the new track they’d made, barely discernible in the thick undergrowth of ferns and creepers. Her bike was nearly on its nose as she came to the most dangerous part of the stunt. She had to hit the target launch perfectly to sail out over a small bluff and clear the stream. A couple of inches either way would skew her flight and she’d crash into the water or the unforgiving ground.

She saw the mark Adam had left and hit it square on. The bike lifted and for a second she hovered. Sunlight. Stream. Forest. Weightless and floating. Then every bone jarred as she landed with textbook precision. Or rather, Adam’s precision. He’d mapped out this run to perfection.

She killed the engine and took off her helmet, adrenaline fizzing in her blood. She heard scattered applause from some of the onlookers, and Adam stepped out of the shadow of the trees.

“That wasn’t the speed we agreed on, Cressa.”

Did he have a speedometer in his head? She rolled her eyes. “I landed the stunt. Aren’t you pleased?”

He strode over to her bike and grabbed the handlebars, straddling the front wheel so he could eyeball her. “I’ll be pleased when you learn to take direction.”

“I knew I could do it faster, and I proved that, didn’t I?”

Adam pulled the bike nearer so his face was inches from hers. His voice low and angry. “This isn’t about proving things, to yourself or anyone else. It’s not a game, Cressa. I know for you this is a one-off job, so not that serious, but if you’re wanting to test your personal limits, crap like that, do it on your own time. The rest of the people here are professionals.”

That stung. “I’m a professional!”

“No,” he said, “you’re not. You’re just playing at being one. This time you were only risking your own sorry ass, but if you push the limits when other people are involved, you could endanger them. Got that?”

Of course she wouldn’t endanger anyone. But she didn’t have the chance to defend herself. He’d already backed off the bike and walked away. She hated that. Hated people who had the last word. Except yelling after him would seem, well, unprofessional. In the end, he had the final word, because after just a couple of days on the set, he outranked her. She couldn’t believe how fast it had happened. The first day he was an extra obeying orders; the second day he was chatting to stunt coordinators; the third day he was managing some of the bike sequences. It wasn’t even as though he’d pushed himself forward, but when he talked, they listened.

Initially, Cressa had been pleased, taking an almost proprietary pride in him fitting in so easily. Then she’d had to start accepting direction from him and that had turned out not to be much fun at all. She was used to people listening to her, not the other way round. Plus he had no sense of humor. Her entire life she’d been a clown, but now if she kidded around at work, she got the evil eye. He reminded her of her mother!

Sam, one of the other Valkyrie stuntwomen, strolled over. “Well?”

Cressa did a thumbs-down. “He’s pissed because I went a teensy bit faster than he told me to.”

“Ah, I thought you’d stepped it up.”

“What’s the big deal? I could do it far more quickly. I told him at the time, but as always, he just ignored me.”

Sam punched Cressa on the arm. “Stop whining. You should know by now—if it can be done slower, he’ll do it slower.”

“And if I can do it faster, I want to do it faster.”

“We’re lucky he’s so careful. If we fall in these—” Sam indicated the skimpy Roman-army-style tunics they wore “—we’ll be skinned alive. Come on, let’s get a coffee.”

They dropped the bike off with the other two parked in the shade and made their way up the hill to where the forest finished abruptly. A makeshift camp of trailers, awnings and a few portable toilets had been set up in the field.

Bridget, the third Valkyrie stuntwoman, was doing Sudoku at one of the plastic tables by the food trailer. Sam and Cressa got their coffees and joined her.

“Jeez, these costumes are uncomfortable,” Sam said as she sat down, trying to arrange the blades of the very short, rubberized armored skirt under her incredibly long, slender thighs.

“Tell me about it,” said Bridget, squeezing each side of her ribs to ease her breasts, which were sheathed in the tight faux leather corset. “It’s particularly hard on us well-endowed girls.”

Cressa laughed. “No sympathy here for your endowments, Bid. They’re the talking point of the whole crew.”

It was true. Every male eye was drawn to her assets, which brimmed over the tightly laced top.

“Yeah,” Bridget replied, “but they still aren’t getting me where I want to be.”

Cressa followed her gaze to see Jeremy, the sound engineer, was now fiddling with the boom mike. She’d been pining to catch the shy engineer’s attention for weeks now. Behind Jeremy, Cressa spotted Adam squatting beside the bikes, checking tires and suspension. Secretly, she was impressed by his single-minded professionalism, which ran like steel beneath his seeming affability. Alpha males were usually center-stage guys. Adam simply slipped in and took control.

“Ask Jeremy out for a drink,” Cressa suggested.

Bid sighed. “I tried, but he blushed and stammered out some awful excuse.”

“It’s because he thinks you’re out of his league,” said Sam. “You’re going to have to show him you are interested in his mind. All he sees is you wrestling buff warriors day in, day out. Of course he feels intimidated.” She turned to Cressa and grinned. “I don’t imagine Adam feels intimidated. You have a whole different set of problems there. How’s Operation Texas going at home?”

Sam was older than them and had a predatory approach to relationships. She enjoyed the stalking, the catch. Then she’d walk away in search of a new victim. Cressa found this worldly approach to relationships refreshing, and she was amused by Sam’s good-natured, cynical take on life.

“Better than here, I hope,” said Bid. “Face it. When Adam’s at work, that’s his focus.”

They had quickly picked up on Cressa’s interest in Adam but spoke of it lightly because she hadn’t told them about the amazing connection she’d felt when she and Adam first met. It would have sounded stupid, especially as Adam hadn’t indicated since, in any way, that he’d felt it, too. In fact, if not for the photo of herself in his camera, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing. Her ongoing failure to secure Adam’s attention, however, amused Sam, who had turned it into a game. Cressa played along. After all, she prided herself in being able to enjoy relationships without getting too involved or experiencing any of the angst.

Cressa made a face. “He’s more terminator than man. When the phone rang yesterday, I ran to answer it wrapped in nothing but a towel. He walked past while I was talking and didn’t even try to cop a look.”

“You must be doing it wrong,” said Sam. “Hey, he’s coming over now. Watch and learn from the professionals, little girl.” She nodded to Bid. “And action!”

Adam sauntered up to their table. “When you’ve finished, Hank wants to do the fight scene and then we’ll go over the escape run. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Sam, smiling up at him. “Why don’t you join us for a few minutes.” In a way that displayed the full, glorious length of her leg, she pushed the empty chair toward him with her foot.

“Yes, do.” Bid leaned on her forearms, maximizing the effect of her tight corset.

“You could do with a break,” said Cressa, joining in and arching back to lift her heavy hair, as though the weight of it was too much to bear. “You haven’t stopped since the moment you arrived.”

Adam looked from Sam to Bid to Cressa, then smiled as he shook his head and slipped into a broad cowboy drawl. “Why, thank y’all for your invitation, but ya think I can’t spot trouble at fifty paces? Try Jeremy over there.” He grinned at Bid. “He’d just love to sit with you gals. I’ll see you in one hour.”

With a flip of his hand, he walked away.

Bid rounded on her. “Cressa! I don’t want you blabbing to everyone that I fancy Jeremy.”

With a small frown, Cressa watched Adam’s retreating back. “I didn’t. Honest.”

How had Adam picked that one up? She’d thought he was completely immersed in his work here.

“In—ter—es—ting. He didn’t miss a beat, did he? You’ve got yourself a real challenge there.” She stretched out so both feet now rested on the empty chair, her eyes following Adam. “Maybe I should join in on Operation Texas. What do you think, Cressa? May the best woman win?”

Cressa felt a flush of annoyance with Sam. And with Operation Texas. Which was stupid, because they were only kidding around. She wound her hair up and tied it into a heavy knot at her nape. “Boring. Time for another subject.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, I’ll take Hank instead.”

Hank was the fight coordinator, with the body of a gladiator.

“He’s a person, not a conquest,” Cressa snapped. She wasn’t sure if she was talking about Adam or Hank.

Bid threw her a sidelong glance. “Touchy all of a sudden, aren’t you?”

“No. But I’d like to talk about something other than blokes for a change.”

“Agreed,” said Sam. “I nominate literature. So, what did you think of the ending to War and Peace? Did you find it ended on a whimper when you expected a bang?”

“The characterization was what I enjoyed,” said Bid. “Robust, yet poignant.”

“You can’t say that,” Sam objected. “That’s the same line you used to describe the wine last night. Which was execrable, in any case.”

Cressa laughed. “The wine or the line?”

“Both,” said Sam.

“Oi!” Bid protested in mock outrage. “That’s my most useful stock phrase. You’d be amazed at the number of different conversations I can work it into.”

Cressa drained her cup and looked at her friends affectionately, her irritation forgotten. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go wrestle.”