Saul and Me: The Pagans MC, #2
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About this ebook
Saul and Me is book 2 of The Pagans MC trilogy. Book 3, Saul and Us, is available everywhere now!
Saul won't stop until he owns all of me.
I'm already sick of this podunk Texas town.
But I'm a movie star, not a hillbilly.
At least, that's what I used to think.
Until Saul showed me what I really am: his property.
He was just another faceless muscle man on set.
Keep pedestrians out of the shot, beat back the paparazzi – that kind of thing.
Normally, I wouldn't bat an eye.
But Saul was different.
He wasn't just muscle – although he definitely had plenty of that.
He wasn't just tough – although one look from his steely eyes had me trembling.
He was so much more.
He was either a monster or an angel.
A sinner or a saint.
He's going to either bend me over his knee and break me completely…
Or make me fall for a man I never meant to notice.
But one way or another, Saul is going to make me his.
Read more from Claire St. Rose
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Titles in the series (3)
Saul: The Pagans MC, #1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Saul and Me: The Pagans MC, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSaul and Us: The Pagans MC, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Saul and Me - Claire St. Rose
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SAUL AND ME: The Pagans MC (Book 2)
By Claire St. Rose
Saul won’t stop until he owns all of me.
I’M ALREADY SICK OF this podunk Texas town.
But I’m a movie star, not a hillbilly.
At least, that’s what I used to think.
Until Saul showed me what I really am: his property.
He was just another faceless muscle man on set.
Keep pedestrians out of the shot, beat back the paparazzi – that kind of thing.
Normally, I wouldn’t bat an eye.
But Saul was different.
He wasn’t just muscle – although he definitely had plenty of that.
He wasn’t just tough – although one look from his steely eyes had me trembling.
He was so much more.
He was either a monster or an angel.
A sinner or a saint.
He’s going to either bend me over his knee and break me completely...
Or make me fall for a man I never meant to notice.
But one way or another, Saul is going to make me his.
Chapter One
C ut!
Johnny barked . They were trying to finish the scenes they didn’t get yesterday when shooting was interrupted by the gunshot, but Angela was off her game.
I’m sorry!
Angela cried, her face twisting as she pressed her fists to her head. She prided herself on not blowing her lines and marks, but she was fucking everything up this morning.
Take ten, everyone,
Johnny said. Angela, come here. Are you okay?
he asked as she stopped in front of him.
Yes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.
Johnny gave her a fatherly smile. Other than someone took a shot at you yesterday?
She smiled and looked at her feet. Yeah, other than that.
Relax, okay? Saul has a couple of guys on patrol. You’re safe.
I know. It’s not that. It’s...
What?
he asked when she hesitated.
I don’t know. I just can’t focus. I see something out of the corner of my eye and I just have to look at it. I nearly shit myself when that light stand fell over. I’m trying, but I’ve never had anyone try to hurt me before. It’s all I can think about.
Johnny sighed. He could sympathize with Angela. Everyone had been shaken up by what had happened the previous day, but Angela seemed to be taking it harder than most. Maybe it was because she was the target.
Can we break for lunch?
Angela asked. Maybe if I can get a little time...
Johnny glanced at his watch. It was only eleven, but they’d spent the entire morning watching Angela miss her marks and blow her lines. Maybe a breather was just what she needed. Patricia, let everyone know we’re breaking early for lunch.
MAY I SIT DOWN?
SAUL asked, standing at Angela’s table with a tray.
Sure,
Angela replied. Thank you, again, for what you did yesterday.
It was nothing,
he replied as he pulled the chair out and sat down. Angela slid around to make a little more room under the shade of the umbrella, and Saul nodded in thanks as he bumped his chair around to get more shade.
No, it was very much something. You covered me with your own body. I always thought that was some stereotypical crap, but you really did it. Why?
Saul shrugged as he ripped the chicken meat from the bone. He chewed a moment then swallowed. Didn’t think about it. Just did it.
But why... after the way I treated you?
He shrugged. I don’t know that being a bitch is worth getting killed over,
he said before tearing off another bite of chicken.
She stared at him a moment. You don’t care what you say, do you?
Of course I do.
Yet you just called me a bitch.
He grinned. And what have you called me?
She smiled in return and looked at her plate. Worse. But not to your face.
Why not, if it’s what you really believe?
Do you think I’m a bitch?
Your first impression hasn’t been good, no. Are you?
I don’t think so. I don’t mean to be.
Then why do you act like you do?
Why do you care?
I don’t, not really. But you’re the one who said you didn’t think you were a bitch. So why do you act like one?
She stared at him for a long moment. You’re an interesting man.
You didn’t answer the question,
he pointed out. Her lips twisted into a smile, and it was a very nice smile.
No, I suppose I didn’t. I can’t answer your question because I don’t know.
Don’t know or won’t say?
Maybe a bit of both,
she said after a pause. Is it always this hot here?
He snickered, allowing her to change the subject. This isn’t hot. You should be here in July and August.
She snorted. I don’t know how you stand it. I’m dying.
Air conditioning and sweat. You get used to it after a while.
Why did you sit down here?
The seat was available.
Is that the only reason? There are lots of other seats.
You looked like you could use someone to talk to.
I did?
It looked like it to me.
And you volunteered?
Saul looked around. Nope. No gun to my head.
That’s not very funny.
He shrugged as he began to work his way through the second chicken leg. What’s wrong? You’ve screwed up more this morning than all the times I’ve watched you before, combined.
Once again I ask you, why do you care?
He dropped the leg and wiped his fingers. I don’t, but you looked like you needed a friend. I can tell you believe in what you do and you’re scared and frustrated. I thought if you wanted to talk...
he shrugged again and picked up the leg. I’ve got thick skin.
She smiled at him. Saul was surprisingly perceptive, and he must have thick skin if he was still willing to talk to her. Thanks.
For what?
he asked.
For caring. For giving me a second chance.
So what’s bugging you? I can promise you what happened yesterday won’t happen again.
How?
How can I promise? Because I’m not buying the whole gunman thing.
You think Bradley is lying?
Saul thought about it. He did, but he couldn’t figure out why and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Not lying, exactly. Let’s just say I’m not sure he saw what he thought he saw. Maybe the reason the guy got away was because he never left and was crew member or something.
He said he saw him get into a truck and drive away.
He also said the guy was a long way away. Maybe it wasn’t the same guy.
Why do you think Bradley is lying?
Saul sighed. Because what he said he saw doesn’t make sense.
Why?
How’d the guy get in?
Maybe he slipped through your line.
No. That didn’t happen.
How do you know?
Because I know my men. It didn’t happen. Even if he had somehow managed to slip past the barricade without being seen, somebody would have seen him walking toward the crew. The crowds are almost a block back. We would have picked him up before he got close...unless he was wearing a pass. If he was wearing a pass, then he works on the crew.
Maybe it was fake, like the last time.
Nuh-uh. We check every pass. If we don’t recognize you, we compare the name to a list. The only way that would work is if he had the name of a crewmember on the pass, and the person he was impersonating didn’t show up. Nobody was missing yesterday, was there?
No, but not every person is on first unit every day.
The list is divided into those who are supposed to be here that day, then everyone else on the shoot. It’s not impossible he faked a pass, but it’s not very likely either. But there’s more.
She smiled and propped her elbows on the table, becoming interested. Saul wasn’t some stupid thug like she