Face of Danger: Body of Danger, #4

By Sidney Bristol

Former child actor Chris Madura returns to his hometown for Christmas with only one goal. He wants to give his stalker the slip. For one month he wants to live like a normal person without always looking over his shoulder. And maybe he'll run into his first crush? The girl he never got up the nerve to ask out before it was too late. But he can't go ten feet without people taking his picture.

With one click of a button, Mel finds herself the focus of a familiar face. It's her childhood friend and the star of all her teenage fantasies back home again. But this reunion isn't just hot, boozy chocolate and making eyes at this dreamy man. Chris is near to breaking under the stress of being hunted by an obsessed fan. Mel can't let him go through this alone, which means getting very close to one irresistible man.

It doesn't take long for the sparks to fly between Mel and Chris, drawing the ire of the person who believes Chris belongs to them. And then literal sparks send Mel's home up in a blaze, making the situation that much more dangerous this holiday.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sidney Bristol
• Release date: Nov 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201483456

Book preview

Face of Danger

Body of Danger #4

Sidney Bristol

Inked Press

Cover art by Charity Hendry | www.CharityHendry.com

Copyright © 2021 by Sidney Bristol.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

Inked Press/Sidney Bristol

www.SidneyBristol.com

[e-mail]

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Face of Danger / Sidney Bristol. -- 1st ed.

Face of Danger

Body of Danger #4

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Former child actor Chris Madura returns to his hometown for Christmas with only one goal. He wants to give his stalker the slip. For one month he wants to live like a normal person without always looking over his shoulder. And maybe he'll run into his first crush? The girl he never got up the nerve to ask out before it was too late. But he can't go ten feet without people taking his picture.

With one click of a button, Mel finds herself the focus of a familiar face. It's her childhood friend and the star of all her teenage fantasies back home again. But this reunion isn't just hot, boozy chocolate and making eyes at this dreamy man. Chris is near to breaking under the stress of being hunted by an obsessed fan. Mel can't let him go through this alone, which means getting very close to one irresistible man.

It doesn't take long for the sparks to fly between Mel and Chris, drawing the ire of the person who believes Chris belongs to them. And then literal sparks send Mel's home up in a blaze, making the situation that much more dangerous this holiday.

Christmas is most truly Christmas when we celebrate it by giving the light of love to those who need it most.

Ruth Carter Stapleton

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

1. Chapter Twelve

2. Chapter Thirteen

3. Epilogue

Aegis Group World Map

Heart of Danger

Spirit of Danger

Mind of Danger

Dangerous Attraction

Also By

About Author

Chapter One

Christmas brought something out in people. Melissa Dempsey wasn’t sure if that something was necessarily always good. Case in point, the gruesomely cute zombie angel statue standing sentry along one of the Town Square’s paths.

The tech guys at work would love this. They’d had a holiday-themed horror movie schedule going around that she wanted none of. But this statue needed to make the rounds with people who were not her and would appreciate it.

It just went to show that there was no one way to celebrate the holiday season.

Mel backed up a few steps and pulled out her phone. The temperature had dropped to the point that her fingertips were frosty, so she’d make this quick. First, she made sure the flash was on. The lighting was festive, which didn’t translate into great pictures. And there. One good deed done. The gaping maw was well-done to the point that she didn’t want to look too closely at the bits of things hanging from the teeth.

Seriously, it looked like something out of a horror movie. Was this some odd leftover from Halloween?

Hey. Do you mind? a man said.

Mel glanced up at a guy stalking around the corner the zombie angel was guarding.

Someone clearly had no holiday cheer. What bee was up his butt?

She ignored him and tapped the message icon.

Mel’s luck? The guys would go in and buy this damn statue, then she’d have to look at it every day. It was too weird not to share.

A big hand closed around her phone, yanking it away from her.

Hey! She turned on the Scrooge of a man, her temper flaring. Give that back.

Lord, give me peace before I knock this man into next week.

The man leaned down, getting right into her face. He had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Too bad he had a shitty personality. Can’t you just leave me in peace?

She reached for the device, but his hand shot into the air. The damn man had a good six inches on her. Okay, probably more than that.

Mel planted her hands on her hips. Her puffy winter coat was suddenly too hot. You grabbed my phone. Give it back before I call the cops?

His eyes really were something. She’d only ever seen one man with eyes that green.

Those same eyes narrowed. And show them you’re following me?

Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are? she countered and looked him over from head to toe.

He was a tall guy, probably six feet and a few inches. The gray beanie hid most of his hair, but a few dark brown tendrils curled out. It was pulled low on his brow, but nothing could overshadow those eyes. She thought he might actually be attractive if he weren’t scowling so hard. The rest of him was a mix of contradictions. He wore a really nice wool coat. Like, designer nice, paired with a hoodie of some kind under it that looked threadbare. His jeans were dirty. Like grass stains and other questionable stuff dirty. But his shoes? Those looked like leather loafers, the kind men in a board room would wear.

Who was this guy? And what happened to the person responsible for dressing him?

He shook his head. Seriously? That’s how you’re going to act?

Maybe you should check yourself, she clapped back. Look at the screen.

It was the head tilt.

He had a way of tilting his head and looking down with a smirk that, for a while, had graced almost every damn magazine in the country. There was a magazine once that awarded him Dreamiest Man of the Year, all because of those eyes. But she’d first seen those eyes in a cherubic face lit with glee because he got the donut with sprinkles on it.

Mel knew exactly who this was.

Holy shit.

He lowered her phone and looked at the screen, squinting. It’s a text message.

Was this real? Was this happening? Did she have him mixed up with someone else?

Oh, my God. Give it to me. She snatched the device out of his grasp, but to do so put her close enough to smell his spicy aftershave. For a split second, their gazes met. He didn’t scowl or twist up his face into an unfamiliar expression. He just looked at her. And she knew.

Mel just knew.

What was Chris Madura doing here, of all places? And damn it, why was her heart fluttering like that? Maybe because he’s always done that to her? Even before he became the pre-teen heartthrob that took the country by storm?

Her fingers slid and fumbled over the screen a bit before she managed to tap back to the image she’d taken of the statue.

Here. See? She turned the phone to face him. Looks like I got your shoulder in the picture. Sorry.

Chris’ mouth opened, then closed. Now that she was paying attention to him and not the anger he was putting off, she actually saw him. His fair skin looked gray and there were practically dark rings around his eyes. His cheeks were sunken in as if he’d lost weight recently.

Couple that with his hodgepodge appearance and she had questions. This wasn’t the elusive former teen star. This man was a mess.

Why? What happened to him?

I am… He closed his eyes, and he seemed to shrink, becoming smaller and drawn in. His voice gentled, and there was no way she didn’t recognize that about him. I am so sorry. I’m sorry. That was totally out of line.

Chris?

He flinched and cracked open his eyes.

He looked ready to run.

Mel reached up and tugged the scarf away from her face a bit. The tight-knit wool pulled on her natural curls, but she ignored it.

Chris was here.

Sorry, I didn’t recognize you until just now. She shook her head as she replayed those words. What am I saying? You probably don’t remember me from Sunday School—

His eyes went impossibly round and so very green. Mel?

Oh. Wow. She chuckled. Was not expecting that.

Oh, my… Oh, my God. He covered his face with his hands and groaned. I’m so sorry, Mel. It was Melissa, right? Melissa Dempy.

Dempsey, but you guys liked to call me Dumpy.

He winced. Please tell me I didn’t…

She laughed. I honestly don’t know. I wasn’t going around keeping track.

Okay, that was a lie. She’d mentally kept track of every little snot-nosed boy who’d called her Dumpy growing up. Chris might have been friends with those same kids, but he’d never called her names. He’d done plenty of other obnoxious kid stuff, but never cruel. It was why she’d been the first girl to like him, at least she told herself that.

What are you doing here? She turned, taking in the rest of the holiday bazaar. It was the first community event after Thanksgiving and a great opportunity to pick up unique gifts made by locals.

They’d sung here together as children in the choir.

He’d stolen one of her mittens, then given her one of his. She’d been forced to wear the mismatched set or be cold.

Um, just checking out the place. He pulled his knit cap lower over his face. Mel, I’m really sorry.

She rolled her eyes. Please, it’s in the past. But if you want to grab a hot chocolate and catch up, I won’t say no.

He glanced around as if he expected a crowd. They might be on the outskirts of Chicago, but this place still had that sleepy, small-town charm. It had changed over the years. They had Starbucks and Target now. But the rest was similar enough.

Chris peered off to his left at someone with a camera. His hand came up, and he gently grasped her arm. As if he might need to move her quickly.

It was behavior Mel was familiar with.

She’d let her best friend talk her into leaving her career as a flight attendant to work for Aegis Group, a company that specialized in a particular kind of bodyguard work. The very dangerous kind.

She looked him over again from head to toe and saw his mismatched appearance in a new light.

Chris? Mel edged closer to him. The dark circles from not sleeping, being jumpy, looking over his shoulder? She knew these signs.

Someone was hunting Chris Madura.

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Why here? Why now?

Chris Madura watched the older woman carefully zip her cheap digital camera back into the neoprene pouch it had probably come with.

Just another person out enjoying the holiday. Nothing ominous about it. They weren’t even paying him any mind.

Fucking hell.

He was overcompensating. Instead of jumping at his shadow, he was accosting pretty women going about their own business.

This was not at all what he’d had in mind when he left the hotel for some fresh air. He remembered the bazar with fond memories. Making the first snowballs of the season. Getting hot chocolate after singing with the rest of the children’s choir from the First Baptist Church. Following Mel around…

He glanced at her, looking up at him expectantly.

What were the odds that he’d run into her here?

He curled his fingers into the material of her puffy yellow coat. The gold tones made her dark skin seem to shine. She still wore her curly, kinky hair, naturally. The snowflakes beginning to fall caught in her hair, twinkling in the lights as they melted into water, refracting that light in a hundred different colors. It wasn’t quite down to her shoulders. Or maybe it was, and she’d fluffed it? He didn’t know the first thing about women’s hair, only that to this day he wanted to dig his fingers into Melissa Dempsey’s hair, pull her to him, and kiss her senseless.

He actually hadn’t forgotten her last name. He’d just panicked. Why? Because admitting he still recalled her name might clue her in on how he cherished the memories of her?

His gaze was drawn to her deep red lips. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but that lip stuff was working overtime in his imagination already.

How had he not recognized her?

Even as kids, she’d been regal. He’d been drawn to her, though back then he hadn’t known why.

The universe was playing a cruel joke on him. It wasn’t fair to meet her now. Why not when he’d been at the top of his career? Why not before this nightmare began? Why now?

I’m sorry, he said again like a damn broken record.

Mel lifted her hand to grasp his forearm, so they were now holding onto each other’s arm. I told you, it's fine. Besides, you have a right to protect your privacy.

Did I ever tell you, thank you? he blurted out.

Mel’s brows rose.

Shit.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Sorry. That’s random.

She merely chuckled, then shivered. He felt it through the coat. It was unusually cold.

You mentioned something about hot cocoa? Maybe he could turn this around somehow? Was that asking too much? Should he make another apology and just go?

These days it seemed like any time something good happened, something equally horrible was quick to follow. Was he tempting fate by trying to have a normal moment? Or should he run the opposite way and protect Mel at all costs?

It was Christmas.

Shouldn’t he have one thing?

Yeah. She wrapped her hand around his and his dick hardened. There’s a coffee shop this way. Come on.

What the fuck?

It had to be the celibacy talking. He didn’t doubt that Mel had amazing hands, but this reaction was a bit much. At least his coat hid everything.

He glanced down just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but her long, dark fingers were wrapped around his. And there, painted on her thumb, was a little green tree.

Was it possible he’d get a break? Could he enjoy this one moment?