Danger Zone by Dee J. Adams Read Free Book Online

after the storm had moved off.
    The huge soundstage held different sets required for the movie and they currently worked in “Trace’s office” attached to the “garage.” Farther to the left, a maze of hallways opened up to a bigger area where a fight scene would take place. At the moment, the lights in the studio illuminated only the small space they worked in, leaving most of the giant stage a dark abyss.
    Having spent an hour on one tiny scene—who were they kidding, it was a sentence—the quiet set had erupted into movement and frenzy once the director yelled, “Cut. Check the gates.” A minute later, two cameramen announced, “Gates are good,” and the director said, “Moving on.”
    Hallelujah.
    Quinn kept a lookout for Mac. His brother and Trace had been in a closed-door meeting all morning, leaving him to stew in solitude. Watching Julie work hadn’t been a hardship, but Quinn kept finding his gaze roaming to the stage door. Looking for Mac, maybe, but also keeping an eye out for Ellie. Because Mac and Trace had made an impromptu trip to San Diego to help fix the potential investor snafu, Quinn had been stuck alone the whole weekend and his thoughts had centered on Ellie. No woman had ever been this hard to get. Sure, he’d played games with women, but something about Ellie struck him in an odd way.
    The stage door opened and Quinn knew Ellie by her silhouette. She turned her head and that long blond hair swooshed behind her back in the same ponytail. Jesus, did he ever want to touch her hair. He’d never wanted anything more. His pulse picked up and his mouth went dry. The low cut jeans would’ve revealed her belly button if her T-shirt—knotted at the bottom—hadn’t covered her. Even dressed down she topped his chart of beautiful females.
    She scanned the dark studio, no doubt letting her eyes adjust from the outside light. She started forward, but stopped suddenly. Reaching for the cell phone clipped to her waistband, she flipped it open and listened. Her serious expression dissolved into utter relief as she sighed and let her head fall back.
    Quinn’s pulse took another odd leap as he watched the graceful column of her neck in the dim light. He wanted to press his lips against her skin, nuzzle her neck and taste the shell of her ear. He looked away and exhaled a rush of air. Shit. He was more than half hard.
    A few minutes later, he spotted Ellie talking with a couple of stuntmen. Standing in a set that looked every inch the bowels of a racetrack, they went over the fight scene step-by-step.
    The lighting guys had just started setting up the shot so it was bound to be another thirty or forty minutes before they started rolling. Set dressing put the last touches on the walls, making them seem like real cement, exactly as the forgotten alley where the final showdown happened.
    Trace hadn’t been looking forward to this scene where the villain and heroine ultimately faced off. Quinn figured it brought back too many memories of a horrible day. Both she and Mac had nearly died.
    Quinn let his gaze fall back to Ellie just as she took a slow-motion hit from one of the stunt guys and fell back. The guy picked her up by the collar and her belly flashed, smooth and flat, before he hit her again. All in slow motion as they choreographed the scene. But even in slow-mo, Quinn’s stomach took a queasy roll. The idea of someone hitting her didn’t sit right with him. He’d seen pictures of Trace’s sister. Chelsea had been beaten within an inch of her life that day. Imagining Ellie with all those bruises made him nauseous.
    The stunt guy extended a hand and helped Ellie to her feet. Her smile brightened the whole frickin’ stage. He wanted her to smile at him that way.
    Dammit. He didn’t want to be on the sidelines. He wanted in.
    She headed toward the stage door and passed behind his director’s chair, showing no sign that he existed.
    “Elle.” Quinn dodged some huge lights, clothes racks and