Not a Fairy Tale

Not a Fairy Tale Romy Sommer Nominated for 2016 RWA Rita® AwardAnd the award goes to…Not Nina Alexander that’s for sure. With her best gracious loser face firmly in place, Hollywood’s hottest starlet is hoping to end her evening of disappointment with a graceful exit stage left. Only an unexpected proposal and an awkward wardrobe malfunction mean that this is certainly going to be a night to remember… for all the wrong reasons! So what girl would resist the gorgeous Dominic Kelly coming to her rescue?! Especially when he’s whisking her out of the paparazzi’s prying eyes on the back of his motorbike – and wearing a tux to rival James Bond!Nina soon realises that the only way to recover from such a scandal is to toughen up and snag the role of the decade in the year’s hottest YA screen adaptation. Who better to train her than her very own professional stuntman? Getting up close and personal with Dom will take Nina well out of her comfort zone – both professionally and in her closely scrutinized private life. But this A-list couple know only too well that’s it not all happy ever afters in Hollywood…What readers are saying about Romy Sommer:‘A fun, sexy romance filled with every emotion … a well written modern day fairy tale that will leave you with a smile on your face.’ – Harlequin Junkie'This was an adorable story… sweet, sexy, fun and had just the right amount of angst thrown in to stir things up.' – The Book Binge'The witty banter, the solid characters and their development, and the honesty in the story just plain moved me.' – Kitty's Book Spot'I will make no secret of the fact I am a Romy Sommer superfan… It's SUCH a feel good book! If you like romance, you'll love it!' – Five Go Glamping Not a Fairy Tale ROMY SOMMER A division of HarperCollinsPublishers www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) HarperImpulse an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015 Copyright © Romy Sommer 2015 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Cover layout design © HarperColl?insPublishers Ltd 2015 Cover design by HarperColl?insPublishers Ltd Romy Sommer asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress. Ebook Edition © January 2015 ISBN: 9780007594641 Version 2015-01-23 For my mother, a pillar of strength to so many people. Contents Cover (#uad40f572-4199-5177-a9e5-5fde3af26278) Title Page (#uffec5acc-bb13-50c6-b041-656ce81d282d) Copyright (#uc3a982ab-16b8-52ab-8804-f5a2d3577a34) Dedication (#u9cbed06a-baaf-5792-8910-7688ee4a28b9) Chapter One (#u675f9b69-5ab0-566c-988f-252415fb2d16) Chapter Two (#u6f9e73f1-6708-531b-ae08-b225cb6b6677) Chapter Three (#u5913e005-f1bb-5655-b731-2b3e209d923a) Chapter Four (#ub32b1b6c-8334-51f6-b23f-a1c9fc48d6cd) Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo) Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo) Also by Romy Sommer… (#litres_trial_promo) Romy Sommer (#litres_trial_promo) About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter One (#uadc93e78-42c8-51c4-b610-556e06181a5c) If just one more person congratulated her on her loss, she would smack them. Nina gritted her teeth and smiled like a crazy person as she threaded her way through the crowd and along an outdoor walkway. Out on the terrace, she breathed in deeply. Not exactly fresh – no one would call LA air fresh – but the crisp February air was better than the suffocating warmth inside. This was as close as she could get to crawling into a corner and letting the tears flow. It’s just an award. It’s an honor to be nominated. There’s always next year. You’re in great company. The platitudes were meaningless. Everyone in this town knew you were only as good as your next job and right now she didn’t have a next job. The history books were littered with the names of has-beens who came close but never won. And who remembered them now? But put “Oscar-winner” in front of your name and everyone knew who you were. Oscar-winners didn’t need to screen-test for coveted roles along with every other hopeful in a town filled to bursting with the hopeful, the pretty, the thin. The bowl of west Los Angeles sprawled beneath her feet, a carpet of lights. No longer needing to keep up appearances, she dropped her smile and rubbed her aching facial muscles. “Drink this.” Someone pressed a glass into her hand. She sniffed at the dubious liquid before raising her eyes to its donor. Or rather to the wall of chest at eye level, before she looked up higher into a pair of amused green eyes. She would have smiled again if it didn’t hurt so much. Dominic Kelly. Even when he wasn’t clowning around, Dom always made her want to smile. He had a way of looking at a woman that made her feel special and beautiful. As if he could see through the hype to the person lost inside. She didn’t care that he had that effect on all women. She did care that he slept with all the others yet had never made a move on her. “It’s brandy. It’ll make you feel better,” he said. “I don’t drink.” “You’re in recovery?” He frowned, no doubt remembering an evening or two during the filming of their last movie when she’d danced the night away with a lurid cocktail in hand. “Of course not!” She didn’t blame him for the assumption, though. At least half the people at this party were probably in recovery from one addiction or another. And even though they’d partied together throughout production on the one movie they’d worked on together, she and Dominic really knew nothing about each other. For that matter, there was no one here tonight who really knew her. They only knew the public image, the person they wanted her to be. The lie. She lifted the glass to her lips and sipped. Fire burned down her throat and brought tears to her eyes before the alcohol settled in her belly. He was right. It did make her feel better, if for no other reason than that it made her feel like a giddy teen at the prom again. That had been a good night. She’d been a winner that night. She sniffed, inhaling the decadent scent of her favorite meal a moment before she spotted the In-N-Out box in Dominic’s hand. Her stomach flipped. “Want to share?” He held up the burger box from the food truck parked outside the party venue. Her stomach flipped again, but she suppressed it. Ruthlessly. “I only just managed to fit into this dress. One bite and I might split the seams.” Dom’s gaze swept over her, settling on her hips. Her very-far-from-size-zero hips. She sucked in her stomach, but he only grinned. “That’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing.” “Yeah, you and every camera in there. I don’t think so. I need to sit.” She wove her way between the sofas scattered around the deck, leaving Dominic and his burger to follow in her wake. A few of the sofas were occupied by people in serious conversation and at least one by a couple making out. Despite her curiosity, Nina refrained from looking too hard to see who they were as she led Dominic toward an unoccupied area of the terrace, shielded from view by potted palm trees. The scarlet shoes with their three-inch heels were killing her feet. She kicked them off and wiggled her toes. Bliss! Then she sagged down on the sofa and breathed a dramatic sigh of relief as she put her bare feet up on the glass coffee table. Dominic’s eyebrows lifted as he sprawled beside her, slinging an arm across the back of the chair, but he said nothing. Though he wasn’t close enough to touch, she could feel the heat emanating off him, and he smelled of the sea. Not the storm-wracked waves that made her stomach clench, but lazy holidays and suntan lotions and laughter. She resisted the crazy urge to lean in closer to breathe him in. There were cameras everywhere at this party, and that was so not a picture she wanted to see online in the morning, either. In the town where gossip was a billion-dollar industry, she’d worked hard to keep her image clean. Nooky in a corner of a party was definitely a no-no. Which put it up near the top of the list of things she most wanted to do. Right behind ‘Eat a burger with all the trimmings!’ She tried not to drool as Dominic tucked into his, and instead looked out at the view and sipped the fiery brandy. Down there, below the roving spotlights that illuminated this party-to-end-all-parties, were real people living real lives. She could hardly even remember what that felt like. As much as she envied their anonymity, their freedom to come and go without their every move scrutinized and torn apart, she wouldn’t swap her place up here on the hill with theirs for anything. That was her addiction: fame. Being admired, being loved, was something she’d worked very hard for. And while losing might not be fun, at least she’d never need to worry about a mortgage payment again. She was living the fairy tale, with more money than her teen self could have imagined, doing what she loved. And she was adored. She had everything she’d ever wanted. Almost everything. If she could just get the one role that would make people sit up and notice, which would make people see her as something more than the ditsy rom-com heroine… Dominic stretched and propped his expensive Italian shoes on the glass table beside her bare feet. “Last year’s Vanity Fair after-party was a complete crush, but it was much more fun.” He sighed. “Or maybe I’m getting jaded. Nothing is ever as good as it was.” “I didn’t see you here last year.” “You didn’t know I was alive last year.” “That’s not true.” She’d known who he was long before they’d been introduced. She still remembered the first time she’d seen him at some party a couple of years back and asked the hostess who he was. He was an impossible man to miss. Impressively built, a little rough and rugged in the looks department but gorgeous enough to make most women look twice. Muscled, without looking like one of those malformed bodybuilders. He looked more like a dancer. Of the stripper kind. But it wasn’t his looks that made Dominic stand out among the crowds of beautiful people in this town. It was his attitude. Though he partied with celebrities, he wasn’t one of the usual sycophantic hangers-on, basking in reflected glory. It was as if he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. There was the hint of aggression lurking beneath his surface, like a Navy seal or a nightclub bouncer. What woman could resist that bad-boy streak? And then he’d smile that naughty, crooked smile… He hadn’t even looked her way that entire night. She’d been stopping traffic since she was 16 and he hadn’t even noticed her. Admittedly, there were so many beautiful people in LA that women who turned heads in London or New York – or Cedar Falls, Iowa – barely warranted a second look here. She rubbed her bare arms. Wordlessly, Dominic set down his burger and shrugged out of his evening jacket to wrap it around her shoulders. “Thanks.” She smiled, the first genuine smile since she’d heard the words ‘and the Oscar goes to…’ followed by someone else’s name. Dom lazed back and contemplated her. “Where’s your entourage tonight? Don’t you usually hunt in a pack?” She didn’t need to see them to know where they were. Her stylist was taking a well-deserved rest after a hectic day. She’d left her PA, her ‘plus one’, back at the Governors’ Ball. Her agent was inside, working the room, schmoozing all the producers and hopefully trying to get Nina a job that wasn’t yet another rom-com. Her publicist, Chrissie, who’d conned her way into a VF party invite by promising a story to a sub-editor, would be getting her picture taken with as many somebodies as she could. “Congratulations, by the way.” Oh no, not Dominic too. She really didn’t want to have to smack him. And she didn’t have much energy left to do it. “I hear you’ve done very well for yourself since we worked together on Pirate’s Revenge.” She blinked. Not what she’d expected. “What do you mean?” Aside from a minor role playing Meryl Streep’s daughter and two very long and tiring promo campaigns for her previous movies, she hadn’t worked since Pirate’s Revenge. Even this nomination was for the movie she’d filmed before her jaunt to Westerwald for Pirate’s Revenge, yet another fairy tale re-imagined. The situation was getting dire. She’d needed the award tonight to break the dry spell. “You landed yourself a little prime A-list steak since then.” Ah. She smiled. The one thing that was going very right in her life. These last few months hadn’t been entirely wasted. Dating fellow actor Paul de Angelo had kept her name in the spotlight and he’d introduced her to more useful contacts in the last month than her agent and manager had done combined. They worked well together, both driven, both serious about their careers, both happy not to get too much in each other’s space. It was thanks to Paul she’d been invited to read for this year’s hottest role, the lead role in a trilogy based on the bestselling novels that had been so popular people had camped outside bookstores for days to get their hands on the final installment. That Nina had read the books before they’d turned into a phenomenon had to be significant, right? It was kismet. Strong female lead roles were hard to come by, and she didn’t want to spend her entire career playing someone’s daughter or the lead’s romantic interest. The accessory. No, this role was hers. Except the read hadn’t been the golden opportunity she’d hoped for. It had been something of a novelty playing to a lukewarm audience. A not-very-pleasant novelty. Paul had been supportive and encouraging. “They just don’t see you as tough enough for the role. You need to show them you’re more than just another pretty face.” It wasn’t her face they’d been worried about. The casting director’s exact words had been “you’re a little too soft for this role.” Or, as her agent, Dane, had said, a little less diplomatically, “Lose 20 pounds, get some muscle and some attitude, and you might stand a chance.” She turned now to Dominic. “Can we meet tomorrow?” He arched an eyebrow. “Mr. A-Lister not ringing your bell?” She rolled her eyes dramatically. Trust him to think everything was about sex. Not that she hadn’t already imagined sex with Dominic a few dozen times. “In your dreams. I don’t want to sleep with you. I have a business proposition.” “Intriguing.” He rubbed his chin, as if the thought of any woman not wanting to fall straight into his bed was something he hadn’t considered before. “Lunch at Cecconi’s?” she pushed. “I have a much better idea.” Dominic’s grin was pure mischief. “25 Degrees at the Hollywood Roosevelt serves the city’s best burgers.” Great, just what she needed. Not. But any self-respecting LA restaurant would serve salads, too, wouldn’t they? “Twelve too early?” “Twelve is fine.” Dominic looked over her shoulder. “Your minder’s here.” She turned to follow his gaze. Her publicist bore down on them. “What the hell are you doing out here?” Chrissie stopped before their sofa and frowned as she looked from Dom’s jacket around her shoulders to Nina’s bare feet, then back to the tumbler in Nina’s hand. Or at least as much of a frown as her perfect, botoxed forehead allowed. “The action is inside.” She waved towards the party. “The cameras are there and all the people who need to be reminded you exist.” “My feet were sore.” Nina wiggled her bare toes and Chrissie’s frown deepened. The excuse sounded as lame as it was. Nina was in the illusion business, after all. If she couldn’t stand for half a night in tight heels without hiding the pain, then she didn’t belong here. But admitting to an insane urge to throw something wasn’t going to go down any better. An actor could trash a hotel room and everyone would call him a rock star, but an actress behaving badly would be labeled as difficult and would never work again. Ask Lindsay Lohan. Nina was struggling enough with the last bit as it was. With an apologetic shrug for Dominic she slipped her shoes back on and handed him his jacket. He tossed the remains of his burger in a nearby bin and rose with her. “Yeah, this party blows. I’m gonna head over to Elton’s and see if that one’s more fun. Want to join me?” Chrissie turned narrowed eyes on him. “Who are you?” “Chrissie, this is Dominic Kelly. He was the stunt coordinator on Pirate’s Revenge. Dom, my publicist, Chrissie.” Chrissie swept an assessing glance over Dom, her gaze lingering on the muscular chest beneath his dress shirt. A tight and not entirely pleasant smile curved her plumped lips. “You might want to hang around for the next ten minutes. There’s a show you shouldn’t miss.” It sounded like a warning, but Nina couldn’t fathom why. Chrissie turned to her. “Be quick. You’re needed inside.” She hurried ahead and Nina followed more slowly, Dom keeping pace beside her. He sent her a questioning look and she shrugged. Chrissie clearly had something up her sleeve, but Nina had no clue what it was. The only thing she knew was that her stomach had clenched with an anxious sense of foreboding she hadn’t felt in years. Back in the central party room, her nerves steadied. She looked out across the room heaving with bodies, hundreds of beautiful people making conversation and playing to the cameras. A carnival of glitter. Party guests came and went from the specially constructed photo booths, and on the far side of the purpose-built, glass-walled structure, a group of dancers gyrated to a rock standard played by the live band. The party hadn’t yet reached that kick-off-the-shoes-in-abandon phase that happened when celebrities partied together, relaxed in the safety of their own numbers and the absence of fans and hangers-on, but it was headed that way. No matter which way she turned she saw stars. Actors, actresses, musicians, and singers, supermodels and fashion designers, directors and powerhouse producers. People who were desperate to be loved and admired, people who’d reached the top and who would do anything to stay there. Every single one of them famous and all of them driven. She belonged here and she’d do absolutely anything to stay a part of it. She caught the eye of an actress she’d worked with a few years ago. The other actress blew her a kiss and Nina waved back. “Bitch,” she muttered under her breath. Dominic leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I don’t think that kiss was meant for you.” “You and Jordan?” she asked in disbelief. Ugh. She thought he had more class than that. “Most adventurous eight hours of my life. Come to think of it, it was probably while the two of you were playing sisters on that TV show.” His grin widened. “Though that was before she started on the botox. I don’t have many standards, but I don’t do botoxed women. Now don’t frown at me like that. There’s a camera headed this way.” She smiled as if her life depended on it. The urge to hit or throw something was back in full force. “Would you like your picture taken?” the photographer asked, waving his camera at them. She and Dominic did the cheek-press, smiling straight into the camera. It was practically an art in this town, but the soft rumble of Dominic’s mocking laugh vibrated through her, spoiling the effect. As the photographer moved on to the next group, she stepped on his foot, not hard enough to inflict pain but hard enough to let him know she didn’t enjoy being laughed at. Or reminded that, if the rumors were true, he’d bedded half this town. The entire female half, with the exception of her. Dom only laughed louder. “Don’t take it so seriously. That picture will never see the light of day. When they’re sifting through the images to upload they’re going to ask ‘who’s this nobody with Nina Alexander?’ and hit delete.” He didn’t sound the least perturbed. But then what little she’d seen of him, Dominic was a man so confident in his own skin he didn’t give a damn what others thought. She wished she knew how that felt. She’d spent a lifetime faking confidence. Dom’s gaze shifted to the stage. “Your new boyfriend really does like the limelight.” She looked, just in time to see Paul take the microphone from the band’s lead singer. He tapped the mic and a few heads turned. The hum of voices dropped as more and more heads turned at the unexpected interruption. “Hi everyone, are you enjoying the party?” The crowd murmured its confused assent. They were here to mingle, to see and be seen. Speeches weren’t part of the program. “I’m Paul de Angelo.” As if he needed to tell them who he was. “I apologize for interrupting the party, but please bear with me. Would Nina Alexander please join me up here?” What?! As Paul looked out over the assembled guests, searching for her, Nina frantically looked for the nearest exit. The anxious knot in her stomach pulled suffocatingly tight. But there was no hope of escape. The people around her turned and looked, and the crowd’s buzz started again, nearly drowning out the sudden buzz in her head. Then Chrissie was beside her, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward. “Get up there!” Chrissie hissed through impossibly white teeth. Nina cast a desperate glance back at Dom, who suddenly seemed like an anchor in a tumultuous sea, solid and strong. Then he was swallowed up in the crowd as Chrissie propelled her forward. On either side of her, people nodded and smiled and greeted her. It was almost like the walk winners did up onto the stage at the Dolby Theatre. Almost. She couldn’t see their faces or hear their words. The sound between her ears had become a maniacal trill and the anxious presentiment she’d felt earlier sky-rocketed all the way from a knot in her stomach to throw-up territory. She’d only felt this way once before in her life and that hadn’t ended well. She reached the stage and Paul leaned forward, extending his hand to help her take the giant step up. Though her body had turned numb, she took his hand and he pulled. She’d dreamed of this night since she was nine, imagined the graceful glide up to the stage on Oscar night in a hundred different ways. This wasn’t how she’d pictured it at all. “What are you doing?” she whispered, but Paul only smiled as he turned back to their audience. “As you all know, Nina was up for Best Supporting Actress tonight, but didn’t win.” Great, thanks for rubbing that in. He raised his champagne glass to the winner, still cradling her golden statuette. “By the way, congratulations, Jen.” The crowd laughed. “But I’m hoping I can turn the night around for Nina.” Paul set down his champagne glass and got down on one knee. Her heart crashed to a stop. Far from numb now, her entire body burned. He wasn’t really doing this? Not here, not now? It was romantic. It was so, so stupid. He took a black velvet box out of his pocket and held it out before him. “Will you marry me?” An aaah whispered through their audience, rising in pitch to an oooh as he opened the box and the most enormous diamond ring Nina had ever seen caught the light. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be doing this. Black spots clouded her vision but there was nothing to grab onto, no one to hold onto. She liked Paul, but she didn’t want to marry him. Marriage wasn’t part of her big plan. Where she came from marriage was a lifelong commitment and she wasn’t ready to give up the single life yet – if ever – and certainly not for someone she barely knew. Paul was the longest relationship she’d ever had and they’d only met a few months ago. But neither could she reject Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor, the man most women in this town – in this country – would kill to be with. Not here. Not now. If she turned him down in front of everyone she’d be branded a heartless bitch. And that wasn’t going to help her win the ultimate in peer awards any time soon. The silence stretched, the audience growing restless, starting to murmur. She could say yes and accept another wave of fake congratulations and then tomorrow she could call it off… Tension etched lines around Paul’s pin-up blue eyes. “You really know how to make a man beg,” he joked. The crowd tittered, but there was tension in that sound, too. Paul could take her career places she hadn’t even begun to imagine. They could be Hollywood’s new power couple, the new Brangelina. On the other hand, she might spend the best years of her life as Mrs. de Angelo, always in the shadow of her more-famous husband – and then find herself out on her ass, replaced by a younger model as soon as her prime was over. A prime spent with a man whose idea of fun in the bedroom amounted to keeping the light on. She had to make up her mind. Saying “yes” now didn’t have to mean forever. Perhaps just until she got the “part of all parts.” Who could it hurt? She opened her mouth to speak and heard Gran’s voice in her head. Whatever you do in that place, girl, you just remember where you came from. You work hard, you hold your head high, and you don’t ever compromise who you are. She shook her head. “What?” Paul obviously hadn’t intended the word to be magnified around the room. It bounced off the walls as people began to cough and snigger. But their embarrassment had nothing on Nina’s. This was it. This was the end of everything. Turns out she wasn’t prepared to do ‘absolutely anything’ after all. Marriage for the sake of her career was one of them. Even a fake engagement. It was up there with sleeping her way into a job. Gran would tan her hide if she said yes. “No.” This time Paul did speak for the microphone. “You’re such a joker.” “I don’t want to marry you, Paul. I don’t want to marry anyone.” He stared at her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t think I’m the marrying kind.” She didn’t need a microphone for her words to carry. They seemed to take on a life of their own, echoing around the vast room. The moment hung, suspended in time, as she looked into Paul’s eyes and he looked into hers. Then his eyes narrowed, wiping away the disbelief, and the tsunami crashed in upon them. “Do you know who I am?” he demanded. Then he rose, snapping the black box shut and jamming it into the pocket of his tux. He thrust the microphone back at the band’s lead singer and jumped down from the stage. Fury radiated off him and the whispering crowd parted before him, people stepping back into one another in their haste to give him space. “You said she’d say yes,” Paul flung at Chrissie as he strode past. The words sliced through Nina. This was the story Chrissie had promised the sub-editor? Who was she working for anyway? The music began again, normal conversation resumed, but still Nina stood frozen on the stage. She knew what every one of them would be talking about. Who. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t breathe. She had to get out of here. She jumped off the stage, no one to help her down now, and the hem of her couture ball gown snagged on the edge of the stage. The fabric ripped, a long, drawn-out sound, but she didn’t care. “What the hell did you just do?” It was Chrissie, face pale beneath her flawless Californian tan. “You knew he was going to propose in front of everyone?” Nina took refuge in anger. “Of course. We had it all planned out. This was supposed to be your big moment. And you just throw it away? How could you be so stupid?” “You should have warned me!” Because then Nina would never have left the Governors’ Ball for this after-party. She’d still be back at the Dolby Theatre and her career and her reputation would still be intact. She would never have had to make such a terrifying decision in front of everyone. Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them away. Crying now would only make it worse. What if her make-up ran? But she was tired and over-wrought from what had already been a very long evening, and it took huge effort. She had to get out of here. The only exit she knew was the same one she’d entered through, the entrance onto Sunset Boulevard where she’d have to run the gauntlet of half the world’s media. Yet more cameras. She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together for the length of that walk. She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together long enough to make it across the room. “We have to get her out of here.” Thank heavens. A voice of reason. Relief swamped her as she faced her agent. It was short-lived. “Hold up your dress. You’re baring your butt to the world.” Dane grimaced as he gathered up a handful of ripped silk and thrust it at her. “Couldn’t you have worn a sexy thong at least?” The unshed tears burned all the way to her throat. How long had her supportive granny pants been on display to the entire room? And was Martin Scorsese looking straight at her? “Would it have killed you to say yes?” Dane continued through gritted teeth. He didn’t even look at her. His gaze scoured the room, searching for a way out, just as she had done. “We’ll say you’re not well. You haven’t been well all week. You didn’t know what you were saying.” He turned to face her at last, giving up hope of a quiet exit. “I’m very disappointed in you. What were you thinking? Paul’s a powerful man in this business. He has a lot of influence, and you humiliated him in public. You can kiss Sonia goodbye now.” A scalding tear slipped over her fake lashes and down her cheek. These were her friends, her support group. How could they turn on her like this? “Maybe the press outside won’t have got wind of this yet?” Dane said hopefully. The look Chrissie sent him answered that one quickly enough. “I’ll get her out of here. I know a back exit.” All three of them turned to look at Dominic. The relief in the faces of her agent and publicist would have been insulting if she hadn’t felt the same. Dominic grinned. “We’re going to walk out of here as if we don’t have a care in the world. You can manage that much, can’t you sweetheart?” Nina nodded. The tears had stopped their insistent push against her eyelids. She already felt calmer. If she wasn’t still so aware of the sea of eyes all around, she would have leaned into him. “Do it,” he said, holding her gaze, daring her. His eyes sparkled. They were an unusual color. Mesmerizing. Like dark emeralds flecked with gold. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. How had he known what she was thinking? She breathed in the scent of the wild sea, simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, and gave in. She leaned into him. “That’s it. You’re an actress, so act. Now just follow my lead.” His cheeky grin was back in place. She managed a weak one of her own. “You’re enjoying this,” she meant it to sound accusing, but the words came out more curious. “Of course I am. You just rescued me from dying of boredom.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Besides, the look on your minder’s face was all the reward I needed.” Of course. The note she’d caught in Chrissie’s tone had been intended to warn him that he didn’t stand a chance with Nina. Instead, she was leaving the party with him. She stifled a hysterical giggle. Dominic took her free hand and led her through the crowd, not towards the kitchens or a service entrance, as she’d hoped, but straight toward their host. She prayed he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t easy walking with one hand clasped behind her back, holding her gaping dress together, but she kept her chin up and she smiled. Not the furious, bright smile of before. She aimed more for a Mona Lisa effect now. It was about as much as she could manage. Though people looked at them as they passed, with expressions ranging from sympathetic to curious to gleeful, no one stopped them to talk until they stood before the editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair himself, Graydon Carter. Satirical journalist, media mogul, social arbiter and celebrity in his own right. Nina had never said more than two words to him in her life. Graydon turned at their approach, smiling. “Leaving so soon, Dom?” Dom grinned and shrugged. “You know how it is – I have a thing for damsels in distress. Thanks for another great dinner, and we’ll talk about that canoeing trip soon.” Had Dominic been invited to the dinner and viewing party earlier in the night? Those tickets were gold. You practically had to be in Graydon Carter’s inner circle to be invited. She did a rapid recalculation of this ‘lowly’ stunt man. “I look forward to it.” Graydon’s eyes twinkled as he shook Dom’s hand. “There’s certainly never a dull moment with you around.” He glanced down to where Nina clutched her torn gown together, then summoned over a minion with an all-access security pass around his neck. “Ms. Alexander has had a wardrobe malfunction. Please take them out the private exit.” Then he turned to Nina. “Thank you.” She tried to sound as cool and amused as he did. “My pleasure. But what for?” Graydon’s grin reached ear to ear. “For providing me with the headline story for our webpage tomorrow.” She wished she hadn’t asked. The tuxedoed minion led them through the dining area, where the most privileged guests had sat for dinner, to an exit she hadn’t known existed. “Shall I call the valet to bring your car around, Mr. Kelly?” the minion asked Dom. “No need. I’m parked right outside.” The minion frowned. Nina only just managed to stop her own frown from wrinkling her forehead. When she’d arrived there’d been a mile-long traffic jam and police everywhere. No one could have parked within walking distance of this place. They passed two security checkpoints before they reached the exit to the back end of the Sunset Plaza parking lot and the minion left them. Nina dropped Dom’s hand and breathed in the cool night air. There were no fancy black Escalades parked out here, just vans and other working vehicles. “What now?” she asked. “Are you going to sneak me out in a delivery van, or do you have a magical flying carpet stashed out here?” Dom grinned. “As good as. How precious is that dress of yours?” She glanced down to assess the damage and groaned. “I think it’s past saving.” “Good.” He kneeled down and with a quick rip tore the remaining skirt off her dress. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to stop him. But she was too late. What had once been a slinky, scarlet, floor-length evening gown was now the length of a cocktail dress. A very short cocktail dress, with an uneven hemline that barely covered the granny pants. Shit. Her PA was going to have to be very inventive to explain these new modifications to the designer. He handed the torn expanse of fabric to her, then removed his jacket. “Cover yourself with this.” He helped her into the jacket, then placed his hand on her lower back to guide her between the cars. To a motorbike. No, not just any motorbike. A KTM offroad bike, with fiery orange paintwork and gleaming chrome. Not exactly subtle, but it was close and wouldn’t get stuck in the traffic jam out front. Nina nearly wept with relief. A quick escape was worth the loss of one couture ball gown. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, handing her the helmet hooked over the handle- bars. “There’s only one,” she pointed out. “I wasn’t expecting to leave with a passenger. You wear it. Anything happens to that pretty face, you can kiss your career goodbye. But my career…” He shrugged. “Let’s just leave it at that.” The helmet was going to wreck the beautiful curls her stylist had labored over all day. But no one would see her now. They were as good as home free. She pulled the helmet on, her fingers fumbling with the chin-strap. Dom stepped close to help her and she caught her breath. A light bulb popped. She looked around. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse…they did. Not a bulb, but a camera flash. The pap who’d spotted them gave a shout and began to run toward them, camera held high. Dom lifted her onto the back of his bike as if she weighed nothing, then straddled the seat between her legs and revved the bike to life. The roar nearly drowned out his voice. “Where are we going?” “Anywhere,” she shouted back. Anywhere but home. The condo was barely a few blocks from here and the press would be all over it in two minutes as soon as this story broke. She laughed. “I’m starving. I’d kill for a burger right now.” Dom grinned back at her. “Hold on tight. I know just the place, but it’s gonna be a long drive.” Chapter Two (#uadc93e78-42c8-51c4-b610-556e06181a5c) Once he’d put enough distance between them and Sunset Plaza, and he was sure they didn’t have a tail, Dom slowed the bike. It was the perfect night for the long twisting ride along Sunset Boulevard. A clear spring evening, with a cool breeze sweeping in off the ocean and a pretty woman with her arms wrapped around him. And to think he almost hadn’t gone to Graydon’s party. There was no way he could take her to 25 Degrees now. Or any place else where she might be spotted and recognized. Not in a torn evening gown that barely covered her ass. Even with the ban on social media at the party, he’d bet the story was all over Twitter by now. She’d turned down Paul de Angelo – the most eligible bachelor in this town and one of the few people who could be called a ‘star’ these days. She was either very brave or very stupid, but either way he admired her. In a town so full of fake it was almost impossible to recognize real, Nina Alexander surprised him by being real. A woman who said what she thought. There weren’t a lot of actresses who knew how to do that anymore. No wonder de Angelo had stormed out the party. He’d been in this town so long he probably didn’t know how to deal with someone who didn’t play the game by his rules. At the end of Sunset, where the ocean stretched wide and the bright moon cast a silver beam across the water, Dom turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway. The salt-tanged wind whipped about them and Nina’s grip tightened around his waist. When he glanced back at her, she was smiling, looking more relaxed than she had all evening and a whole lot less like she wanted to cry. Then she rested her cheek on his shoulder and he concentrated on the road ahead. In Malibu he cruised into the McDonalds drive-thru and pulled up at the window. Nina shifted behind him, relaxing her grip around his waist as he placed their order. Then she held the paper bag between them for the few more miles it took to reach his destination. He parked at the side of the road, deserted at this early hour, and climbed off, stretching stiff legs. His hip ached, more than usual, and he rubbed it absently before helping her down from the bike. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “Where are we?” “Point Dume, the best beach in LA. Not a great surfing beach, but I love to come here when I need space to think.” The ideal place to escape the crowds and the hustle of the city. He guided her along the trail to the steep, metal staircase, which plunged down to the rocky shore. She removed her shoes, then followed him cautiously down the dark stairs. As they walked along the rocks to the sandy part of the beach, a series of barks drifted to them through the dark. “Only the sea lions,” he said, catching Nina’s shudder. Her gaze stayed on the patch of darkness the sounds had come from. “Is it safe here?” “Safer than most public beaches after dark.” There wasn’t much he was afraid of, and the odd homeless drifter punting for change certainly didn’t bother him. They sat on the beach and looked out over the moonlit sea as the waves washed in, digging their toes into the soft sand. He took the packet of fries Nina refused, smiling as she bit into the burger. She closed her eyes and savored the taste, all her concentration focused on the food. “What?” she asked, looking up and catching his grin. She wiped at the sauce dribbling down her chin. “Have I sprouted another head? Or are my granny pants showing again?” “No, though now I’m really tempted to take a peek under that jacket. It’s a rare sight to see a woman enjoy her food the way you do.” She shook her head. “I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.” “It is tomorrow.” He licked his salty fingers. “Who’s Sonia? Your agent said you could kiss Sonia goodbye.” “Sonia Fairchild.” He shook his head. “I’m still not getting it.” “From the Revelations books.” “Books? Those are the things you have to sit down for hours on end to read, right?” Nina’s wide, dark eyes reflected the moonlight. “You don’t read?” “Unless it’s the Hollywood edition of Vanity Fair, no. Would that be a deal-breaker?” She bit her lip for a moment, considering him. He didn’t need to be a genius to decode that look. He’d seen it often enough on other faces over the years. She was figuring him for all brawn and no brains, the stereotypical stuntman. He shrugged it off and tossed the empty fries packet into the paper bag. “The Revelations trilogy is a fantasy series in which angels and demons come down to earth to fight the final battle between good and evil. Sonia’s an ordinary girl trying to get through college when she loses her family to this new holy war. Then she discovers she has some special skills, kind of like Neo in The Matrix, and she goes Ninja to save the world.” “She sounds like a kick-ass chick. I might like her.” “They’re casting the movies based on the books and I want to play her.” Nina sucked in a breath. “That’s why I wanted to meet with you.” He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to go on. “Every actress from here to London wants to play Sonia. It’s the role of a lifetime. Paul got me a chance to read for the part, but the producers weren’t convinced. I’ve been stereo-typed as the ditsy romantic interest for too long. They don’t see me as the intense, hard-core action type. They’re looking for someone more heroic.” She flinched at the last word. “And you thought I could toughen you up to help you get the role? If it helps, you’re already my hero. It takes guts to do what you did tonight – to stay true to yourself.” She bit her lip. “I guess there isn’t any point bothering now. They’ll never take a chance on me after tonight.” “You turned down a marriage proposal. It’s not like you mainlined heroin in front of everyone or got so wasted they had to call the cops.” “I might as well have. Paul has a lot of influence and I hurt his feelings.” It wasn’t his feelings that were hurt. Dom shook his head and stretched out on the sand. “The days of any one person controlling this business are long gone. He’s not the only one with friends.” He knew a few people, too. But how much did she really want this? Because he wasn’t going to put himself out for some fickle actress who wasn’t prepared to do the work. His reputation was all he had going for him right now and he wasn’t about to throw it away for a pretty face. Pretty faces were cheap as dirt in this town. Character, now that was a different creature entirely. Nina bit into the burger, taking her time over it before she spoke again. “I’m still an idiot. I could have said yes and then changed my mind later, in a less public place.” “He’s the idiot. Who in their right mind proposes to a woman in front of a crowd like that?” Only someone with an ego the size of the Antarctic would be so confident of being accepted. Only someone who cared more about the spectacle than about the woman he’d proposed to would share such a private moment with a room full of strangers. Or… “When an actor has been on the market as long as Paul de Angelo has, without even one failed marriage behind him, the rumors start.” “Paul is NOT gay.” “He doesn’t need to be for the gossip to spread. You know that. You’ve obviously heard the rumors. But an engagement would shut them up for a little while. A very public engagement at the party hosted by the hottest celebrity magazine on the planet would shut the rumors up a whole lot longer.” She bit her lip as she digested the thought. “You think he was only dating me for his image?” He hoped she didn’t want an answer, because he couldn’t answer honestly without offending her. Not that she looked particularly offended. Or heart-broken. “Why didn’t you want to marry him?” he asked instead. She shrugged and looked away, but nothing could hide the flush that stained her neck and cheeks. Not even the moonlit darkness. “Tell me,” he coaxed. “There’s no one here but you and me, and the sea.” She shuddered, still not looking back at him. “I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with him. I’d grow bored and I’d want excitement, and quite frankly I don’t see any point making a promise to spend my life with someone, knowing from the very beginning that I wouldn’t keep it.” He nodded slowly. He hadn’t realized they had so much in common. He grew bored quickly too and craved excitement, and he never made promises he couldn’t keep. “How would you propose?” she asked, licking her fingers. The question was unexpected and not one he had an answer for. He hadn’t given proposals any thought before. The opportunity had never come up. Or to be more precise, he’d never met a woman he liked enough to live with, let alone marry. He loved women, with the emphasis on the plural. But settling down with just one? She’d have to be something really special for him to give up all the others. He shrugged. “Some place like this, I guess. Some place special, where we can be alone. Shall we take a walk?” They dumped the paper bag in a garbage can and walked along the beach, sipping their sodas. The tide crept in, filling up the tidal pools. Nina walked with her arms wrapped around herself, his jacket incongruously large on her, dwarfing her curves. He didn’t need to see them to remember those voluptuous curves. He’d spent the handful of weeks they’d worked together admiring them. She’d gone out of her way to tempt him with them too, not that it had taken much effort. With her throaty, sexy voice, full, red lips and big, dark eyes that could go from a dangerous glint to wide and innocent in a moment, she was temptation personified. But contrary to popular opinion, he was able to control his impulses. Nina was different from the other women he met. Though she batted her eyelashes at him, same as every other woman, she didn’t look at him like he was an object. And if he was honest with himself, it terrified him. He was okay with being objectified. He didn’t mind that most women only wanted him for his body. Their low expectations were easy to satisfy. He wasn’t sure Nina would be satisfied. They strolled in silence and he left her alone with her thoughts as he enjoyed the stillness and the soothing tumble of the breakers on the shore. One thing in Nina’s favor: she didn’t feel the incessant need to talk. With most women in Hollywood there was only one thing that made them stop talking. Admittedly, then they were usually moaning his name instead. They reached the end of the long curve of beach and paused. “You know, I’ve never been to the beach in LA,” Nina said. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself as if she was cold. But she wasn’t cold. She looked almost haunted. “You should make more effort. We have some great beaches. Some excellent surfing, too.” She shuddered. “No thanks. I don’t like the sea.” And there was his deal-breaker. He loved the sea and spent every spare moment at the beach. He lived within a stone’s throw of the ocean just so it would be the first thing he saw every morning. They meandered back the way they’d come, Dom splashing through the shallows, Nina keeping as far away from the lapping edge as she could. He watched her out the corner of his eye. In public she always appeared so confident, so sparky, but here, alone in the dark with no one to primp and pose for, she seemed a different person, vulnerable, lost. It tugged at him. As he’d told Graydon, he was a sucker for a damsel in distress. He paused to look out across the restless ocean. He’d heard of the Revelations project somewhere, and that it was in pre-production. He didn’t know much, but he’d heard enough to know that it was very different from any movie Nina had done before. It wasn’t surprising she was a long shot for the role, but if she wanted it enough, he had no doubt she could do it. He’d watched her perform opposite his friend Christian in Pirate’s Revenge and he knew she was worth more than the roles she usually played. He could help her. Unconsciously he rubbed the constant ache in his hip again. Why was he even considering it? He wasn’t in any shape to conduct an actress boot camp. He could find someone else to train her… He discarded the idea as quickly it came. Perhaps it was the arrogance of professional pride, but the thought of her spending all her time the next few weeks working with someone other than him made his stomach revolt. “What are you thinking?” she whispered beside him. She’d ventured into the shallows, tentatively letting the waves bury her bare feet in the sand. Though she didn’t like the sea, she’d faced its challenge. He liked that in a woman. Nina was just as obsessed with how she looked and what people thought as every other actress he knew, and she probably lived on a diet of grated carrots and lettuce leaves most of the time, but she had potential. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d have a hissy fit if she broke a nail working out. “Why me?” he asked. “Why not book yourself into a boot camp or hire a personal trainer?” She shook her head. “Anyone can do that. I need to be better. To win this role I’m going to need to do a lot more than just run on a treadmill or do Pilates classes. I don’t only need to get physically fit, I also need to get into Sonia’s headspace. I need someone to push me, to challenge me. I need to be able to walk and talk like her. Now when I walk into a room, people see the girl next door, maybe a little sassy, a little outspoken, a bit of a klutz, but no one would think of me as a badass. I want to be able to walk into the casting director’s office and have her think Lara Croft just walked in.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you think I’m going to be able to teach you all that?” She grinned, expression cheeky. “You’re the most badass person I know.” “I’m not badass. I live in the suburbs and drink green tea.” “What can I say? I don’t get out much.” She cast him a sideways glance, all but batting those too-long fake lashes of hers. “Besides, you wouldn’t really want me to go hang out in some biker bar to learn to be badass, would you?” He frowned. Not that he believed she would, but even the mere thought of Nina in a bar full of drunken men was enough to make his fists clench. “It takes most people a lifetime to become badass. How much time do you have?” “Six weeks. But I’m an actress. With the right training, I can fake it.” He looked at her, saying nothing, and she hurried on, “There are so many things I haven’t yet done in my life that Sonia would know how to do. That’s all I’m asking, is for you to help me do a few of those things.” “Things like?” “Load and fire a gun, be able to hold my own in a stage fight, take a fall.” She grinned. “Ride on a motorcycle and walk on a beach at night.” “There are stunt schools that teach those sorts of things.” She shook her head. “And have a whole bunch of people watch as I make a fool of myself? No thanks! I trust you.” He ignored the obvious flattery. “A stunt school would be more all-rounded. You need trainers who can do vehicular stunts and pyrotechnics and weapons training. I’m a martial artist with a specialty in falls.” And he wasn’t even good at those these days. He flinched at the memory of his last fall, from a Paris hotel balcony to a snow-covered lawn. Without the luxury of airbags or protective clothing. It had been one jolt too many for his already- damaged body. “But you have the connections,” she persisted. She made her eyes big and round. “Please?” He did have the connections. And he could do this. The risk was minimal. But whether he should was another matter entirely. Mistaking his hesitance for reluctance, her face clouded over. “I’ll pay you well.” He shook his head. “It’s not about money.” “You already have plans for the next few weeks?” He looked away. “I haven’t got any work booked in.” And he’d love an excuse to postpone the surgery. “Why do you want this role so much? Tell me about this script and what you need to learn and I’ll consider working with you.” The radiance in her face was enough to take his breath away. He’d be the first to admit his ego needed stroking a little now and then, too, and when a woman looked at him like that it made him feel like a hero. He needed that feeling more than ever these days, now that he’d been forced to face his own mortality. They strolled back the way they’d come, and as they walked, she talked about the role. Here in the quiet of the beach, with no one else around, her voice washed over him, slow and sensual and mesmerizing. But was that a soft, Southern accent creeping in? He’d been sure she was from somewhere in the Midwest. He shook his head. Perhaps he’d imagined it. What was certainly not his imagination was the passion she felt for this script. More than simple admiration for the role, it was as if she wanted to be Sonia. “This story really means something to you.” He sat down on a sandy spot high up the beach and patted the ground beside him. Nina sat beside him, pulling her knees to her chest, and looked up at the sky, not answering him for a long moment. “I read the books at a very hard time in my life. Sonia’s story helped me through it. They took me very far away from what I was going through.” He watched her face, the moonlight turning her expression stark. She sucked in her lower lip. “I’ve always been the odd one out in my family. For the Alexanders, duty and service to others have always been more important than personal happiness. I’m not like that. Playing Sonia is the closest I’ll ever get to saving the world single-handed.” That was a hell of a lot of pressure to put on oneself. What kind of superhero family did she come from? Probably cops or military. But he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know. He never asked women about their families. Because when you asked those kinds of questions you jumped straight into ‘complications’ territory. He stretched out on his side, cushioning his head with his arms, and a moment later she lay beside him, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. Their gazes held and desire sizzled through him. He’d wanted her from the first time he’d seen her, and the temptation now to take what he wanted was almost more than he could stand. So why didn’t he? It wouldn’t take much to close the distance between them, to lose himself in those full, pink lips. He rolled away to lie on his back and look up at the clear, night sky. He had very few scruples when it came to women. As long as it was consensual and legal, she was fair game. But somehow with Nina he couldn’t bring himself to make a move. Perhaps because she deserved so much better than him. She deserved better than Paul de Angelo, too. She most definitely deserved better than casual sex or a one-night stand, which was all he was looking for. She was so quiet he wondered if she dozed. He wouldn’t be surprised after the day she must have had. The preparations for Oscar night were almost as grueling as the event itself. Not unlike the rush of working on a film set: exciting, challenging, invigorating, and exhausting all in one. But when he turned his head to look at her, she was awake, watching him through half-lidded eyes. With a small smile she crept closer and laid her head on his chest. He let her. For a long time they lay together in silence. He draped his arm over her and she snuggled into him. She had to be cold in what was left of her fancy dress. She shifted against him, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. “Aside from the adrenalin rush, what’s the best part of your job?” He had to pause a moment to think about it. The adrenalin rush and the challenge of daring to do the impossible were the reasons he got out of bed every day. “The anonymity. I love the fact that I get to do this fun job, but at the end of the day I can go for a jog along the beach, or drink in a bar without someone sticking a camera phone in my face.” He could tell by the look on her face that it was exactly the opposite of why she did what she did. She shrugged. “Will you help me?” “We can talk about it in the morning.” “As you reminded me earlier, it is the morning.” “Then we can talk about it when we’ve both had some sleep.” He wasn’t going to make any rash promises tonight. Not with the smell of her perfume clouding his judgment and the softness of her hair tickling his chin. Besides, she was in a heightened emotional state and who knew if she’d still feel the same tomorrow? Who knew if she’d even remember to say “thank you” to him for rescuing her tomorrow? Not that it mattered. He didn’t go around rescuing damsels for the glory. He was just a sucker for a woman with tears in her eyes and tonight she’d had that look written all over her. Tonight she needed a friend, someone at her side, not because of who she was and what she could do for them, but just to be there for her. He could do that. And tomorrow… Tomorrow had a way of taking care of itself. Nina said nothing. Her lids hung heavy and she laid her cheek against his chest again. He watched a satellite orbit slowly across the sky and when it disappeared from sight, he stirred, moving his aching limbs. “I should take you home before it gets light and the rest of the world wakes up.” “I don’t want to go home. Can’t I just stay here?” She murmured. “If you don’t mind getting some very curious stares from the early-morning beach walkers.” She sighed. “You’re right. I’m damned if I stay and damned if I go, so home it will have to be.” She rolled away from him and sat up, reaching for her shoes. “Is my make-up smudged? If it is, we’ll need to find a restroom somewhere so I can try to fix it up. If I have to get past the inevitable cameras, at least I don’t want to look as if I’ve fallen to pieces.” “There is another option. You could come home with me.” She eyed him coolly for a long moment before she answered. “Thanks, but no thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me tonight, but I’m not that grateful.” “That wasn’t a proposition. I have a guest room you can use.” “You don’t want me?” She pouted, her big eyes rounding in a typical actress way, as if her entire being depended on being wanted and adored every moment of the day. He laughed, hoping she was just messing with him. “You’ve had an upsetting and emotional night and I won’t take advantage of that. I don’t have many morals when it comes to pretty women, but I don’t prey on them in their moments of weakness.” Preying on their easiness tended to be way less complicated. “When I make love to a woman, it’s not because she’s grateful, or confused, or out of some misguided need for comfort. When you come to me, it’ll be because you want me.” He stood and dusted himself off. “And just for the record, of course I find you desirable. I am a man, after all.” There was that smile again, the one that turned her luminescent and could make the strongest of men feel like a million bucks. The smile that was pure old-school Hollywood glamour. They climbed back to the road. She straddled the bike behind him again, her body pressed up against his, her arms wrapped around his waist, and he smiled too. The drive all the way back to Venice Beach suddenly didn’t seem so far. Nina wasn’t sure how she’d imagined Dominic’s house, but this wasn’t it. Not the stereotypical penthouse apartment of a bachelor, all chrome and glass, but a craftsman cottage in a quiet walk street in Venice, bright-colored amid a lush garden oasis just visible now in the light tinge of dawn. She was too tired to notice much more as she followed Dom through the house to the guest bedroom. He hovered in the door and she turned to face him. “Thank you. For everything.” The crooked grin curved his mouth, and it wasn’t gratitude that had her hoping he would lean in so she could feel that grin against her lips. “For what it’s worth…” his voice was a purr that started at the top of her spine and whispered all the way down. “I’m glad you turned down Paul de Angelo.” He pulled the door shut behind him and she found herself staring at it for a long moment, her pulse racing and her mouth dry. Removing her make-up was a mission, with nothing more than soap and water at hand, but she managed to get rid of the worst before she shucked off the remains of her destroyed evening dress and crawled between sheets smelling of lemony fabric softener. It was only as she closed her eyes to let sleep claim her that she remembered what Dominic had said. Not “if you come to me,” but when. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she drifted into sleep. Chapter Three (#uadc93e78-42c8-51c4-b610-556e06181a5c) The angle of the light was all wrong. Nina forced open eyelids that seemed stuck together. Her mind was awake, but her body resisted. She snuggled deeper into the warm, soft duvet with its alien scent and peered out. Her emotions were less easy to appease than her body. As the memories of the night came crashing back, so did the disappointment, excitement, humiliation, and turmoil. But her most overwhelming sensation was relief. She’d done the right thing. She was so not going to be one of those celebrities who racked up marriages and divorces faster than they racked up air miles. What had Paul been thinking? They hadn’t even met each other’s families yet. How would her family feel hearing the news of her engagement from whichever reporter first managed to track them down for a comment? She could imagine what Gran would have to say, and none of it would be printable. Even so, she’d probably committed career suicide last night. But she couldn’t lie in bed all day and pretend it hadn’t happened. She’d have to get out there and face the music. She stretched in the luxurious warmth of the bed and lifted herself up on her elbows. A large room, all in white but somehow not clinical. Golden sunlight slanted through the gap in the gauzy white curtains, across the white hardwood floor and onto the four-poster where she had slept. On one wall hung a dozen pictures in matching dark-wood frames. She climbed out of bed and moved to take a closer look. Miniature movie posters; the kind they gave away free at movie theatres on opening nights. It was a moment before she registered they were probably all movies Dominic had worked on. Not all Christian Taylor movies, though she’d assumed they always worked as a team. On the antique bench at the foot of the bed lay a pile of neatly folded clothes with a note. Hope something fits. She lifted the clothes gingerly. A pair of ladies’ sweatpants, jeans, a couple of t-shirts, and a hoodie. She didn’t want to think too closely who they might once have belonged to. She didn’t want to think too closely about what their owners had worn to go home in either. But at least they would be more comfortable than a way-too-revealing, torn evening gown. She showered and dressed in the grey sweatpants, a plain-white t-shirt, and the hoodie. The fact that the jeans were at least two sizes too small didn’t help her mood. When she emerged from the bedroom, the house was eerily quiet. She tiptoed down the passage and into the open-plan living area, careful not to disturb her host if he still slept. The living rooms were warm and homely, with scatter cushions and vases, an unexpected window of stained glass in the dining area, and a wall of framed family photos Nina didn’t look at too closely. This was nothing like the carefully styled “I’m a sensitive man” look Paul’s decorator had created, with native American art on the walls but not a personal picture in sight. Dom’s house had a haphazard warmth and feminine touches that suggested the action man with a reputation for going through women quicker than most men went through underwear had at least one home-making woman in his life. Nina clenched her jaw and headed for the kitchen. It took her a couple of impatient minutes to figure out how to work the state-of-the-art coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen, then she set to ransacking the cupboards for something to eat. Dom had a surprisingly well-stocked refrigerator for a bachelor. Fruit, vegetables, pro-biotic yogurt and freshly squeezed organic juice. After last night’s decadence, she should stick to All-Bran and water, but instead, she grabbed a banana muffin and a tub of yogurt, then sat at the kitchen counter with her espresso. The house didn’t have much of a view, but the back yard was certainly pretty, enticing her to enjoy its delights. A wooden patio set stood on the small redwood deck, with a wall of lush greenery beyond. A grapevine grew across the trellis that shaded the deck, and a wind chime hummed a melody as it stirred in the breeze. She rose to head to the sliding doors and caught sight of the wall clock. She only just managed to stifle a groan. Mid-afternoon already. Everyone she knew had to be worried sick and wondering where she was by now. At the very least her PA, Wendy, would have expected her to report in a few hours ago. Now, where the hell was her cell phone? Nina clapped a hand over her mouth, suppressing another groan. She’d left her purse at the coat check. At the one-of-a-kind, once-off party venue, which was no doubt already being dismantled. She could only hope some journo wasn’t going through her cell phone photos right now. Was there anything incriminating on there? Aside from a couple of no make-up selfies, she hoped not. Using the landline in Dom’s kitchen (who even still had one in this day and age?) she called the only number she could remember off the top of her head. She hoped Dom wouldn’t object to the long-distance call. “Hello?” Jessie’s voice sounded tentative down the line. “Hi, Jess.” Her sister screeched so loud, Nina had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and calling, and finally some intern from Vanity Fair answered your phone. She didn’t believe it was yours either. She was convinced an A-list celebrity would own something fancier.” Nina rolled her eyes. “I left it at the after-party.” “That good, was it? Did the party cheer you up, then? You sounded so down after the awards ceremony.” So her sister hadn’t heard the biggest news of the night yet. “The Governor’s Ball was really wonderful. How did your appointment go this morning? Did it take – are you pregnant?” Jess’s hesitation was all the answer she needed. Nina’s heart sank. How many IVFs had her sister already tried and failed? Jess cleared her throat. “Give me all the details. How was the VF party? Who was there? Drop some names. Was it really as glamorous as it looks?” Allowing herself to be diverted, Nina sipped a mouthful of espresso and launched into a description of the after-party as best she could. But her stomach pulled tighter as she talked. She had to get this over with. Jessie couldn’t hear from some other source. She steeled herself. “Paul proposed.” “Shut up! Why didn’t you tell me you guys were that serious? ” “Because we weren’t. I didn’t see it coming.” She stumbled for words. “I didn’t know what to do. He asked me in front of everyone. And I mean everyone. I said ‘no’.” “Are you mad?” Her sister screeched again, and Nina held the phone away from her ear. Not Jessie too. “I don’t want to marry him. I mean he’s nice and everything, but he’s not…I can’t see myself with him for the rest of my life.” She couldn’t see herself with anyone for the rest of her life. She had little enough privacy as it was. But if she was going to spend her life with someone, it would be someone who set her alight, not someone who’d eventually wear her down. As the words of her favorite country song went, she was “better in a black dress” than in a white veil. “You mean he’s not your One.” Jessie sighed. For someone who was constantly telling Nina how out of touch she was with reality, her sister was such a hopeless romantic. “By saying no I think I’ve undone any good the nomination did for my career.” “So what do you do next?” Good question. Nina bit her lip. “I have a plan, but it’s not going to be easy and I’m a little scared.” “You’ll be fine.” Jessie used her professional voice, the reassuring tone she used on her patients. “I know you. You’ll do whatever it takes and you’ll be great. Things always work out for you.” If only she had the same faith in herself that Jessie did. But Jessie was the strong one, not her. Her sister was the glass-half-full kind. Nina, on the other hand, had yet to see any evidence for Jessie’s belief that everything happened for a reason. Sometimes shitty things just happened. “Thanks, Jess. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Her next call took two other phone calls just to track down the right number. “Are you mad?” her PA, Wendy, demanded. “How could you turn down Paul de Angelo?” This was going to be a very long day. Nina set Wendy to track down her purse, gave her a list of things she needed and Dominic’s address, then hung up. The last call was the one she’d been dreading most. Dane was still as cold to her as he’d been the night before, but at least he took her call. “Paul’s been busy this morning,” he said. “The press are not painting a flattering picture of you. There’s a lot of speculation that you’ve been two-timing him. You’re not going to be able to get a Hallmark movie after this.” Well there was the upside. No more rom-coms. Maybe she could start to prove herself as a serious actress now, with roles worthy of the Alexander name. “I’m sending Chrissie over to you. You’re going to need her help more than mine to get you out of this.” Dane hung up. Great. So Paul had started the media machine moving while she slept. Well, there was nothing she could do about it stuck in Venice Beach, so all she could do was wait. There was still no sign of Dominic. Either he was a very sound sleeper, or he’d gone out. Either way, she was hardly going to go upstairs to find out. She pushed open the glass sliding door and stepped onto the deck. Beyond the wall of green she discovered another little yard, a paved suntrap patio edged with raised beds of bright-colored spring flowers. She stretched out on the sun lounger in the little garden. The golden late-afternoon sun warmed her and, unable to fight exhaustion any longer, her eyes drifted closed. She woke with a start when a shadow fell over her. Wiping her mouth and praying she hadn’t drooled in her sleep, she sat bolt upright. It wasn’t Dominic. A petite blonde woman stood over her, hands on her hips as she stared down at Nina. She wore her wavy, sun-streaked hair in a high ponytail. The woman pushed her sunglasses up onto her head to reveal a pair of curious, assessing gray eyes. “Hi,” she said, sounding neither cool nor friendly. “Is Dom around?” “I don’t know.” Nina scrambled up. “I haven’t seen him for a while.” The blonde moved out of the sun and Nina noticed that she wasn’t as young as she’d first appeared. Tiny lines fanned out from her eyes. But she still had the figure of a teenager, and long, shapely legs that made Nina feel the rush of inadequacy that seemed to be her default setting here in LA. “He probably went for a run on the beach with Sandy.” The woman’s mouth pursed in disapproval. “I’m going to pack away his laundry.” Casting another assessing glance over Nina, the other woman headed back indoors. Nina followed, equally curious. Either Dom had an unusually sexy housekeeper, or he inspired serious devotion in his girlfriends. In which case it was no wonder he seemed so disinterested in her. She was less than useless at doing laundry. And who was Sandy – another girlfriend? For the nearly four weeks they’d worked together in Westerwald, Nina had been cursed with the hotel suite across the hall from Dominic’s. She’d witnessed the procession of visitors he’d had. Hotel staff, women from the film crew, girls he picked up in nightclubs, dressed in skirts so short they could have caught hypothermia in the winter weather. Even her own make-up stylist had once slipped out of his hotel room at some ungodly hour, lipstick smudged and straightening her clothes. Nina had been amazed they all seemed happy to move on with a smile, and never had a bad word for him afterwards. She couldn’t fathom why. She’d suffered from the most irrational envy since the day they met. Most likely because she saw so little of his attention. Last night he’d said he desired her. So why did he chase every other woman yet ignore her? What was it about her that Dom found so easy to resist, even when she’d been single and available? Was it because she wasn’t as anorexically thin as everyone else in LA? There were shopping bags of fresh groceries in the kitchen. How the blonde was going to find place in Dom’s already well-stocked kitchen to pack them away, Nina had no idea. She found the other woman folding freshly ironed sheets into the linen cupboard in the passage. The woman turned and smiled. “Those fit you well,” she commented, eyeing Nina’s borrowed clothes. Oh, heavens above – were they hers? Nina felt the beginning of a hot flush creep up her neck. She didn’t usually blush – she was a good enough actress to cover when anyone fazed her – but this petite blonde with her cool, gray eyes was seriously unnerving. The other woman laughed. “Relax! I don’t bite. Would you like a cup of coffee while we wait for Dom and Sandy to get back?” Nina pulled herself together. She’d been nominated for an Oscar, after all. She could play cool every bit as convincingly as anyone else. She smiled and tossed back her hair. “Thank you. That would be lovely. I could do with another espresso.” Hopefully the caffeine would banish the grogginess of her afternoon nap. The blonde began banging open doors in the kitchen. “Damn,” she said. “Kathy must have been here already. I can’t find any space in this kitchen.” Nina resisted the urge to raise her eyebrows. Did Dominic have a harem thing going on? Or was there some sort of competition between the women in his life to keep him fed? The blonde made cappuccinos for them both and, without asking, added a large dollop of cream and sugar to Nina’s cup. Nina hesitated a moment before deciding that rejecting the cup held out to her would be rude, so she took it and perched on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter to take a tentative sip. The other woman moved to sit across from her. “You’re Nina Alexander, right?” the blonde asked. “I am. And you are?” “Juliet.” Juliet offered her hand across the table and Nina shook it primly. “You turned down Paul de Angelo to come home with Dom?” The blonde asked conversationally. Nina choked on a mouthful of cream. “Good news travels fast.” “Your very public rejection of Paul made the morning news. You know, I always thought he was gay.” Luckily this time there was nothing left in her mouth to choke on. “He’s not,” she managed. Vanilla, but not gay. “Oh good. And now he’s single, too. I don’t suppose you could introduce me?” The gray eyes sparkled. “No, I suppose not after last night. So what was wrong with him that you didn’t want him?” Sheesh, this woman sure knew how to go straight for the jugular. “There’s nothing wrong with Paul. He’s a real gentleman. The word ‘suave’ was practically invented for him. He’s polite and attentive, very focused on his career, and doesn’t live wildly like so many other big movie actors.” He always got the best table in any restaurant, and he knew everybody who was anybody in this town. The perfect boyfriend, as long as you didn’t expect fireworks in the bedroom. And until he’d ruined it all by proposing. Juliet wrinkled her nose. “He sounds terribly dull.” Nina bit back a smile. That too. Paul was surprisingly boring for a star. All the way down to his predictable Prius. She shrugged. “He’ll make a wonderful husband to the right woman.” It just wouldn’t be her. Juliet winked. “Dom is never dull, but you probably know that already.” She dipped her spoon into her mug and stirred thoughtfully. “I’m guessing he rode to your rescue last night?” Nina nodded. “He saved me from complete humiliation.” “That’s our Dom. He has a Knight in Shining Armor complex. He’s always getting into scrapes over women. Ask him to tell you the story about the time he….” A bell pealed and Juliet jumped to her feet. “Who on earth would ring the gate bell? Everyone Dom knows would walk straight in.” Nina cursed under her breath. She’d have loved to hear Juliet’s story. “It’ll be my PA.” While Juliet headed off to let the newcomer in, Nina poured the rest of the creamy cappuccino down the kitchen sink. Much as she loved the taste of real cream in her coffee, she really didn’t need yet another spread in OK! magazine pointing out the cellulite on her thighs. When Juliet returned it wasn’t only Wendy who followed her into the kitchen, but Chrissie, too. “Your entourage has arrived,” Juliet announced. Chrissie frowned at her. Either the botox was wearing off or her publicist was seriously unhappy today. “Why haven’t you taken any of my calls?” she demanded, sliding into the seat Juliet had vacated across from Nina. The confrontation seat, Nina was discovering. “I’m sorry. I left my phone at the party,” Nina explained. Chrissie terrified her, but she was good at what she did and Nina was even more terrified of losing her. Especially now that she needed all the good PR that money could buy. “I have it. I checked. Everything’s still in there.” Wendy handed over Nina’s purse, cell phone and a large Louis Vuitton hold-all. “And I brought the things you asked for.” Nina sent her a grateful smile. Chrissie looked a little mollified. “I’ll have an espresso. Black, one sugar,” she instructed Juliet before turning her back on the blonde. Juliet stuck a tongue out behind her back and Nina had to bite her tongue to stop herself laughing. Wendy wasn’t as restrained. Her giggle earned a quelling glare from Chrissie. “I have a Plan,” Chrissie announced. “I think we should work with the story Paul’s putting out there, but turn it around. We’re going to say you’ve met someone else and fallen head over heels in love. You didn’t plan to, but it just happened.” Not quite the plan she’d had in mind. Nina shook her head. “Remember the fallout when Kristen Stewart was caught cheating on Robert Pattinson? I don’t think that would work in my favor.” Chrissie smiled. “It’s risky, but here’s the cincher.” She paused for dramatic effect. “He’s going to be a completely ordinary man. Not a star. Just a Regular Joe. It’ll be like the reverse of George Clooney dating the waitress. People already see you as down to earth, so we’ll play on that and win you sympathy.” “Who’s the lucky guy – anyone I know?” “Dane has some out-of-work actors on his books. I’m sure one of them will jump at the role for the right amount.” This was what she’d come to – having to pay someone to pretend to be her boyfriend? Sheesh! And people thought the life of an actress was all glamour. “How is an actor a regular guy?” Juliet asked from the coffee machine. Chrissie ignored her. “I have a better plan,” Nina said. “I don’t need a new boyfriend, just a new job. This is the perfect opportunity to reinvent myself as an actress with a little edge. I’m done with rom-coms. I still want to go after the role of Sonia, and I’ve asked Dominic to train me.” “Who’s Dominic?” Chrissie asked. “The man whose hospitality you’re enjoying.” Juliet plonked an espresso cup in front of her so hard she splashed coffee on the counter. She’d added cream to Chrissie’s cup, too. “Oh, the stunt man.” “Stunt coordinator. What would be in it for Dom?” Chrissie finally looked at her. The two blondes eyed each other. “Who are you?” Chrissie asked, looking down her nose at Juliet. Juliet crossed her arms over her chest. “Consider me Dom’s manager.” Though Juliet had to be at least a head shorter than Chrissie, Nina thought they were pretty evenly matched in the formidability stakes. “If we go with this idea, we’d pay him, of course.” Chrissie said. “With a bonus thrown in if Nina gets the role.” She glanced around the open-plan living area, which was probably half the size of Nina’s bedroom. “He could get a bigger place, perhaps something up in the hills.” Juliet shook her head. “Not everyone wants to live in the hills, and not everything is about money.” Nina shuddered. As much as she agreed with the last sentiment, not everyone wanted to live by the sea either. “He’s a stunt man and getting on in years. His career won’t last forever,” Chrissie said. Nina flinched at her publicist’s callous tone. Besides, Dominic wasn’t any ordinary stunt man. He was bright and energetic and magnetic, and he clearly had friends in high places. He didn’t want Nina, or her fame or money, or he’d have made a move on her a long time ago. The way most men did. “So what does Dom want?” she found herself asking. Juliet’s cool, gray eyes met hers, and Nina had the oddest sensation that this formidable blonde knew exactly how much that question had been burning inside her, and that she wasn’t only asking how to get Dom to agree to train her. Juliet smiled as her gaze flicked past them. “Ask him yourself.” “Ask me what?” As one, the four women turned to the kitchen door where Dom stood, holding a panting, creamy-colored Labrador on a leash. He wore trainers, baggy board shorts that hung low on his hips, and a sleeveless shirt that clung to his chest with sweat. Though Nina didn’t notice them in that order. Another blush began to burn her skin. Dom stepped in through the open door. “What are you doing here, Jules?” “I brought you some groceries.” “Kathy’s already been.” He scowled at her. “I’ve told you I don’t need anyone to do my shopping.” “Of course you do.” Ignoring his glowering expression, Juliet moved to give him a quick peck on the cheek. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach. “And how else are you going to have clean sheets for your guests?” She fired a quick, mischievous glance in Nina’s direction. “I have a housekeeper.” Juliet dropped to her knees to scratch the dog’s ears. It tried to lick Juliet’s face and she laughed, pushing the dog’s head away. “Down, Sandy. Sit!” So this was Sandy! Nina’s chest suddenly felt lighter and she wanted to laugh. Not quite the harem she’d imagined, nor did Dominic appear to appreciate Juliet’s attentions. Nevertheless, he didn’t send the blonde away, nor did he bat an eyelid when, quite at home in his kitchen, Juliet filled the dog’s water bowl and set it down for Sandy. Nina cleared her throat. “We were talking about what sort of payment to offer you to train me up for the role of Sonia.” “I haven’t agreed to that yet.” “I still think my idea is better,” Chrissie muttered. Nina shook her head and kept her attention focused on Dom. Not that he wouldn’t have had her attention anyway. His presence filled the small, sunny kitchen. “Please?” she asked, making her eyes big and begging. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a near-smile and her heart dropped. She knew what was coming. He gave her that look every time he was about to turn away from her, usually in some other woman’s direction. It was that night in the Landmark Caf? bar in Westerwald all over again. She’d practically thrown herself at him, and he’d left with a thin, pouty brunette instead. “We need to talk about that. Just you and me.” She didn’t need his pointed glance at Chrissie to know what he meant. “I’ll wait for you in the car,” Wendy said, taking the hint. Chrissie was less easy to move. Between them, Nina and Wendy had to each take an elbow to propel her towards the door. “I really appreciate that you came all the way here, and I’ll call you later,” Nina said. “Who puts cream in an espresso anyway?” Chrissie huffed, finally accepting Wendy’s lead. Nina shut the kitchen door behind them and faced the room. Juliet hadn’t moved. Dom poured himself a glass of water from the fridge dispenser. “Feel free to leave any time, Sis,” he said. His sister! It took all Nina’s effort not to grin. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want to be alone.” Juliet wrinkled her nose. “You might want to have a shower first, though!” She shoved his shoulder playfully. “I’ll be happy to keep Nina company while you change.” He glanced at Nina and she shrugged. “Go ahead. I need to change too, anyway,” she said. He scowled at Juliet again. “Any embarrassing stories and you’re out.” She stuck out her tongue at him and Dom rolled his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me?” he asked Nina. She nodded, unable to speak. The image of Dom in the shower had grown roots in her brain. Damn this blush. Was it ever going to go away? When she looked back at Juliet, the other woman had a wicked glint in her eyes. “So you and he haven’t yet…?” The blush burned even hotter. How the hell could his sister tell whether she and Dom had slept together or not? “Why not?” his sister demanded. “Most women can’t resist our Dom. Are you really that picky when it comes to men?” Her eyes narrowed with speculation. “Or is it not men you’re interested in?” Nina stiffened her back and stared right back at Juliet. “What happens between me and your brother is none of your damn business. If you want to know why he and I haven’t had sex, then you ask him.” She would love to know, too. Juliet grinned, and her cheeky look very closely matched her brother’s. “You can’t blame a girl for being a little protective of her baby brother.” Nina collected her bags off the counter and headed to the guest bedroom. Any relief she might have felt at Juliet being his sister rather than his lover had evaporated in a moment. She could only thank the heavens her own sister wasn’t as meddling. “You still here?” Only Jules remained in the kitchen when Dom returned, freshly showered and dressed. She looked up from the magazine she was flicking through. “Now that’s better. You’re more likely to seduce a famous actress dressed like that.” “I don’t want to seduce her. She’s a potential client. And I really don’t need dating advice from you, thank you very much.” Not that he hadn’t already learned everything he needed to know about women from his sisters. Like just how much drama they could be. Jules frowned. “You can’t seriously be considering her request? You have surgery scheduled. It’s not as if you need her money, and she sure as hell doesn’t need you. That uppity publicist has a Plan B to set her up with some poor schmuck who doesn’t mind running around at the beck and call of a celebrity, so let them get on with it.” He rummaged in the refrigerator and didn’t make eye contact. Why had the thought of Nina with someone else, even if it was nothing more than a set-up, made him lose his appetite? “I can reschedule the surgery.” “Please think about this carefully, Dom. You can’t afford to leap first then look.” When had he ever done anything so rash? “Risk assessment is what I do for a living. So trust me to know and understand the risks.” “And healing broken bodies is what I do for a living, so you should trust me. You know what the doctor said. You need to stop pushing yourself or you’re going to damage your body beyond repair. Fix the damage that’s already been done before you can barely walk! And until then, you need to stop running.” “The moment they start cutting through muscle and putting metal body parts inside me, my career is over. What am I going to do with the rest of my life?” There it was, that specter that had hung over him for months now. His job was who he was. It was the reason he got up every morning. Without it, he’d be lost. He was still a few years shy of forty; too old to re-train, too young to retire. He’d be the first to admit that agreeing to prepare Nina for this role was a convenient way to buy himself more time to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He shook his head. “My hip, my pain. I can manage it.” “But you don’t have to live with the pain. A hip replacement is nothing to be ashamed of, and you’ll still have a full range of movement afterwards. Without pain.” “Will you please keep your voice down?” He glanced past Juliet to the closed door of the guest bedroom. “Have you ever heard of a stunt man with a hip replacement? It’ll take months before I’m back to normal. Months of sitting around, unable to work. And if word gets out that I’m no longer fit, no one will hire me.” “You always knew this job was going to have a limited lifespan. What did you think you were going to do when you got older?” He hadn’t. He’d lived every day as it came and not spared a thought for the future. “I’m still young,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of good years ahead of me. When I can’t cope anymore, then I’ll reconsider the surgery.” “Please don’t wait too long. The better shape you’re in when you have the surgery, the quicker you’ll recover.” He rolled his eyes. “Is the lecture over yet, Sis?” She sighed. “I don’t want to see you any more damaged than you are already.” They’d been having this same argument for more years than he could remember. “I know you want what’s best for me, but I’m not a kid anymore. You need to butt out and let me make my own decisions. And you can tell the others that, too.” “So your decision is to turn yourself into a glorified fitness trainer for a few weeks? Why? Forget training her. Just get her out your system and move on, the way you usually do.” He shook his head. “It’s not like that. She’s not like that.” Juliet shrugged. “If this is really only about training her, then you need to be realistic, Dom. She might have passed the cream test, but she’s still a spoiled celebrity. She’s never going to see this through. As soon as the going gets tough, she’ll be gone. Is she worth damaging your body further?” “How about I let you know?” He loaded fresh strawberries, yogurt, and a generous handful of granola into the blender and switched it on, its roar drowning out any chance of further conversation. Finally taking the hint, Jules closed her magazine and hopped down from her stool. “I’ll see you on the flip side.” The kitchen door had barely closed behind her when Nina emerged from the guest bedroom. Not a coincidence, he was sure. The sweatpants were gone, replaced by tailored trousers and a white frilly blouse that dipped dangerously low between her breasts. He swallowed and forced his gaze higher. She’d done her hair and make-up too. She was back to being Nina the Movie Star again, not the vulnerable woman he’d walked on the beach in the dark with last night. She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you for helping me out last night. I really appreciate it.” At least she hadn’t forgotten to thank him. She shifted awkwardly, as if there was something more she wanted to say, and cleared her throat. “About what I asked you last night…I don’t want you to feel pressurized. You can say no.” Had she overheard his conversation with Jules? He was man enough that he didn’t want a beautiful woman to see him as weak or feel pity for him. He kept his expression neutral and nodded. “But will you consider it? If you change your mind, here’s my private number.” She held out a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it and he took it silently. “Goodbye then,” she said and headed for the door. “Meet me at 25 Degrees at 12 tomorrow.” She paused mid-stride. “It’s a day later than we intended, but it’s as good a place to start as any. No promises yet. I need to see what you’re capable of before I agree to anything,” he said. The smile she threw him was almost enough to knock him off his feet. A man could definitely get used to being looked at like that. “And wear comfortable clothes; clothes you don’t mind getting dirty in.” Then she was gone, leaving nothing but the soft scent of her perfume in the air. Chapter Four (#uadc93e78-42c8-51c4-b610-556e06181a5c) Dom choked on his draft beer as he caught sight of Nina at last. She couldn’t have shouted ‘celebrity who doesn’t want to be recognized’ any louder. The oversized designer sunglasses and headscarf were enough to make anyone look twice, especially here in Tinseltown. She hovered in the door of the restaurant, nervously scanning the room before she spotted him in one of the back booths and made a beeline for him. She slid into the seat across from him, her back to the rest of the restaurant, and undid the headscarf. Her long, sleek dark hair tumbled loose. “Hi.” The coquettish smile she sent him was enough to make up for the 15 minutes she’d kept him waiting. The waitress who brought their menus was clearly well trained. She pretended not to recognize Nina. “I’ll have the Number One burger with extra fries,” he said, handing her back the menu. Nina’s face took on a pinched look for a moment, then she placed her order. “I’ll have a Pellegrino and the chopped vegetable salad.” The waitress met Dom’s eye. He grinned. He agreed. He’d had such high hopes Nina wasn’t going to be just like every other image-obsessed actress. She’d even passed the cream test. This was a test his sisters had devised years ago. They deliberately offered a woman a beverage she usually didn’t drink – in a town like LA where every woman was on a diet, cream and sugar were the obvious choices. If the woman caused a fuss, she was written off as high-maintenance. If she accepted the cup and was polite enough to sip, his sisters considered her a keeper. It was a good test. He’d even used it a few times himself. No one even semi-famous had passed the test before Nina. “Those aren’t exactly the kind of comfortable clothes I had in mind,” he commented, eyeing the pretty blouse and short skirt she wore. She shrugged. “What if someone sees me here and takes pictures? Wendy has my bag in the car with a change of clothes.” “You’ve left your PA waiting outside?” he asked. “Of course not! She’s running an errand for me and she’ll be back soon.” Their food arrived quickly. As he dug into the burger, Nina averted her gaze, but she couldn’t disguise the hungry look she cast his fries. “Go on,” he said with a quick grin. “You know you want to. Besides, you’re going to need to start bulking up. I’m going to make you work off those calories very quickly.” Her grin as she leaned forward to steal a single fry off his plate was less movie star and more the Nina he remembered. And her satisfied sigh as she savored the fry was the most sensual thing he’d seen in years. “Aren’t you…?” Nina smiled and nodded at the two young women who approached their table. “Could we have our picture taken with you?” the bolder of the women asked. Dom took the phone handed to him and snapped a few pictures of them posing with Nina, attempting to look as cozy as best friends. By the time the women finally removed themselves, his burger was cold. And Nina had stopped casting lustful glances at his fries. She turned back to him with a half smile. “And that is why I don’t leave home in sweatpants. So when do we start my training?” “As soon as we’ve eaten and I’m sure you’re not going to pass out from lack of sustenance I’m going to put you through some paces to test your fitness and agility.” “I have a personal trainer and I work out every day in the gym at my complex. And I used to be a cheerleader in school.” Her smile oozed confidence, but she sounded defensive. “Sweetheart, that has to have been at least ten years ago. No offence, but I need to know what I’m working with now. And just because you push weights with some gym bunny in an expensive health club does not make you fit.” He scanned her body, or at least what was visible above the tabletop. She was in good shape and clearly worked out, but she didn’t have the build of an athlete. For what he’d require from her, she needed core body strength, not legs that would look good blown up on a movie theatre screen. “I won’t be as easy on you as your trainer,” Dom warned. “I’ll expect a hundred per cent commitment from you. I’m going to make you work and I don’t want to hear any complaints.” She smiled, full of genuine confidence now. “I won’t complain.” Several hours later she wished she hadn’t said she wouldn’t complain. Dominic had taken her on his motorbike to a training facility up in the hills, and he’d put her through a commando obstacle course. He’d made her run, crawl through dark tunnels, climb ropes and a series of increasingly steeper and higher barriers, swing across a ravine and jump from a height into a bed of mats. Her legs and arms ached, she’d scratched her shins, and she wanted to cry from the way her breath tore through her throat. The sun baked down. She was over-hot and dripping with sweat. And there was still one more obstacle to go. Dom kept pace beside her as she ran as hard as she could up the slope. She didn’t want to imagine how she looked: red-faced, panting, with her hair matted to her face and her t-shirt plastered to her skin. They crested the low hill and Nina baulked at the sight below her. “You know how to swim?” Dom asked. He had no right to look so clean and able to breath. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. She nodded. “Swimming pools, yes. But that…” “That” was an oversized pond. No, it was too wide and too deep to be called a pond, too stagnant to be called a river. And the smell… Memories she didn’t want hurled themselves at her. She swallowed the gag reflex. “Showers and cold drinks are on the other side,” Dom said. “I’ll meet you at the clubhouse.” He pointed to the wooden building on the far side. And then he was gone, jogging away from her with a backward wave and a grin she would have loved to wipe off his face. She looked back at the water obstacle that lay before her. Fear gripped her stomach and again the gag reflex choked her. After several hours of torment, she no longer felt like sassy, confident Nina Alexander. She felt like the scared, plump kid she’d been in that other life so long ago. Not just scared. Fear squeezed her chest. She sagged to the ground and eyed the water. She didn’t need to shoot in water for the movie. Well, there was one scene in the third book… she swallowed. But that’s what stunt doubles were paid for. She could call Dom back – tell him she couldn’t do this. And she could call this whole stupid thing off and go back to playing the rom-com princess. She could, but she wouldn’t. She hauled herself up onto shaking legs. Then, drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes, she jumped. The water wasn’t as deep as she’d expected. It only reached to chest height. And at least it was cool, unlike that choking, merciless water she remembered. She began to wade. Water weeds caught at her, wrapping around her legs. Panic set in as she struggled against them. But they only gripped tighter. She couldn’t breathe. Survival rule #1: don’t panic. Her father had told her this years ago when she’d climbed too high up a tree and gotten stuck on a branch that had cracked beneath her weight. He’d talked her down, slowly, calmly. She stopped fighting. Tears burned against her eyelids as the old memory choked her even more than the weeds. Survival rule, my ass. Fat lot of good it had done him. She tried to move again, but the tangled weeds still held her tight. Trapped. The tears threatened to spill over. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t do this. She looked for Dom, but he was far away, circling the dam, not looking her way. She tried to shout for him, but the tears clogged her throat and all she managed was a whimper. The black spots were back, dancing before her eyes. I can do this. She breathed deeply to calm the surge of fear and panic. I won’t cry. He mustn’t see me cry. When she no longer saw black spots before her eyes, she held her breath and dived down to yank the strangling weeds off her legs. It took three dives to finally free herself, then she pushed up to the surface and began to swim, slowly, careful to keep close to the surface to avoid the tangling weeds that still seemed to reach out to her with their greasy tentacles. Her already aching muscles protested with every stroke, but she pushed forward, keeping her gaze locked on the distant building that slowly, slowly grew nearer. Just another few feet, another stroke… on the far bank she dragged herself out and lay panting in the dry, prickly grass. The relief was so great she wanted to cry. She’d done it. She’d actually crossed it and it hadn’t killed her. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/romy-sommer/not-a-fairy-tale/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.