Page 141 of Late Harvest

“I’ll strive to please you every day,” he whispered against her lips, a benediction of their commitment to each other.

“I’m counting on it,” she added, sealing the words with a tear-drenched kiss. “Don’t make me bring out the scalpels. Apparently I’m fierce with them.”

She was also fierce about her love for Sebastian. Her fated mate. And whatever else happened, he was hers. For life.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Doctor to balloon animal: What seems to be the problem?

Balloon animal: I heard a pop in my knee.

—From Bash’s dad joke collection

Bash

Bash’s phone rang, jarring him from sleep. After their emotional reunion—almost three weeks apart and one scandal was far too much, and would never be repeated—they’d enjoyed dinner with Walt and Mira, his producer assuring him his role was safe and then toasting his prediction for an Oscar.

Then he’d brought Arabella back to the house he was renting close to set, making love to her all night. Mouths tasting. Tender touches. Soft cries of passion. Torrid screams of pent-up release. Fierce loving. Again and again, until he ached in the best way and she was a sweaty, limp, smiling heap curled around him.

The sun was just rising when they finally fell asleep, sated.

His phone blared again.

Benny?

He yawned and hit the speaker, Arabella stirring next to him.

“I’m in LA with Guinn,” his sister’s agent launched, without preamble.

Bash eyed the old-fashioned clock on the nightstand. Just after seven a.m.—five in the morning California time. A frisson of worry skidded down his spine. “What’s happened?”

“We found the leak.” Slash’s voice was hard. But there was something under it Bash couldn’t identify.

He sat up, Arabella joining him, wide awake. It was the doctor in her—she could snap awake, while he normally had to evolve into wakefulness. Not this time though. “Who was it?” he asked through a clenched jaw.

Arabella reached over and massaged her fingers into the popping joint, a tender smile on her face. She was always telling him he’d get TMJ if he didn’t stop grinding his teeth. He paused to take her in. She was sex-rumpled, her hair going in every direction, a line from the pillow creasing her cheek.

She’d never looked more beautiful.

He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, one leg draped over his.

“It was Melody,” Slash eventually responded, sounding a mix of defeated and angry Bash had never heard before from his oldest friend.

Arabella startled. “What?”

“Something wasn’t sitting right with me,” Benny chimed in. “Only a few people knew about you both. It wasn’t Brinder or Honor, that’s for damn sure. And I immediately knew it wasn’t the Red Wine Supper Club. Those women are true blue. That left Guinn here. Or Melody.”

“So she flew out to see me, guns a-blazing,” Slash added, no humor in his voice.

“And while I think your agent has an adolescent nickname I refuse to indulge,” Benny added, unperturbed, “I’ve watched him in action. I know he wouldn’t do this to you, Bash. He can be an ass, but he’s your best friend. One who’s had your back quite impressively as we navigated this mess.”

“Jesus,” Bash breathed. “Slash⁠—”

“Spare me. I know you suspected me from the beginning. And I’ll be honest, brother, that really hurts.”

“Guinn, I’m so sorry⁠—”

“I had a vested interest in finding out who really leaked it. If only to clear my name to my friend,” Slash added, hitting the last word with a ring of sadness. “And it really only left one person. I just needed to prove it.”