by Lucy Monroe
"I was looking back." Her voice was laced with the same desire heating his blood, but her expression reflected uncertainty.
Rock nodded. "Good to know."
"Is it?" she asked.
"Definitely."
"You don't mind I'm supposed to be your incentive to fall into line?"
"I'm more interested in knowing if it bothers you to be the incentive?"
"Who said I was?" She slid away from him and stopped at the door. "I'm an actor, not an escort."
With that, she turned smartly on her heel and left his office.
Damn, he enjoyed her spirit and he liked even more that she didn't automatically fall in with her bosses' evident plans to entice Rock into cooperation.
Rock couldn't deny enjoying the way Ms. Morganstein's mouth pinched in consternation as she took his lawyer's card.
She silently handed it to the director, who cursed. "These are your lawyers?"
"Yes."
The director's expression turned crafty. "What, they file your business paperwork with the state?"
"Among other things."
"Is it your company's name on the deed, or your own?" Ms. Morganstein asked.
"Mine."
She smiled. "I think you'll find putting them on personal retainer is a bit more than you expect it will be."
"They already are." Exasperated by their ignorance, he stared at Carey. "What have you told them about me?"
"Nothing."
"I can tell."
"Why don't you tell us what your brother hasn't?" Gamble invited, all jovial.
"I already did." But the film people hadn't been listening. Typical. His parents had been damn good at only hearing what they wanted too. "He doesn't have enough vestment to make any kind of legally binding agreement regarding Jepsom Acres without my approval."
"What's the name of your company?" the producer asked crisply.
"Does it matter? I told you it's not on the deed to my land."
Mrs. Painter arrived with the coffee tray.
"Denali Venture Capital & Investments," Carey said on a huff. He glared at Rock. "It's not like it is a big secret."
"No. Just not relevant."
Apparently, the director didn't agree. He was typing something into his phone. "How do you spell that?"
Carey told him. "It's the Athabascan word for Mt. McKinley. Rock likes to think of himself as that big and that solid."
Rock ignored his brother's sarcasm and stood to help Mrs. Painter with the coffee. He wasn't surprised the rail-thin producer took hers black. Deborah refused any at all.
"Would you care for something else?" he asked her.
"Filtered water if you have it."
"This isn't LA, miss," Mrs. Painter said. "Rock's well provides some of the sweetest and freshest water you'll find, even in Alaska."
Deborah gave his housekeeper a smile Rock wouldn't mind having turned on himself. It was so genuine and sweet. "I'd love a glass, if you don't mind."
Mrs. Painter left to get it and Rock got pulled back into the conversation.
"You must realize we've got too much money invested in this location already to simply walk away," Ms. Morganstein said with firm resolve.
Gamble nodded. "We've flown in the cast and part of the crew. The rest will be here by the end of the week. Our schedule would be delayed in a way we cannot afford if we have to find another location locally, much less attempt to find one so perfect somewhere else altogether."
Ms. Morganstein set her coffee down and leaned forward. "Our investors would expect reparations. Your brother would be on the line for that as well as all the other costs incurred, not to mention criminal charges for signing a contract fraudulently."
Carey squawked in denial.
Rock just shook his head. "I'm guessing LA prosecutors have enough to do without pressing charges against my brother for criminal stupidity."
"I'm not stupid!" Carey jumped up and glared at Rock.
Rock raised a single brow. "You signed that contract without the legal right to do so."
"You always said this would be my home no matter what." Carey had the impudence to look hurt.
"To live in, to bring a guest or two to visit...not to turn into bed and breakfast for a film crew, or into a damned movie set."
"We aren't staying here. We've got rooms at the lodge," Carey said fast and loudly, like that made it all better.
"That's not the damn point." Though he privately appreciated that Carey hadn't intended Rock suffer the indignity of having his inner sanctum turned into a public hostel.
Carey's increasingly wounded expression just made Rock mad. He wasn't having a family argument in front of strangers.
"I think you underestimate how seriously Hollywood takes contracts," Ms. Morganstein said.
Rock surged to his feet and scowled pointedly at his brother until Carey returned to his seat. Then Rock turned the full force of his angry will on the two suits. "And you have overestimated my patience."
"Now, just hold on." Gamble put his hands up in a calming gesture. "There must be some kind of arrangement we can come to."
Rock shook his head. "I don't need your money." And if they had enough to pay what the use of his land was worth, or any land like it close by, Carey couldn't have used the offer of it to finagle a starring role in the film. "I don't care for your good will."
Ms. Morganstein's looked at him coolly. "But you're brother? You aren't going to claim you don't care about him?"
Rock wasn't about to deny that truth. "You think threatening him is going to make me sign your contract?"
The producer and director's identical expression of smug certainty said they did.
"Let's get something clear, here." He let his expression settle into something only his worst business rivals ever saw. "You come for my brother and I will come for you."
"Is that supposed to intimidate me?" the producer demanded, but Ms. Morganstein's tone wasn't nearly as full-throttle as her words.
She didn't look intimidated exactly, but she did look thoughtful.
"I think, if you were independently wealthy, you wouldn't be here in Alaska, looking for a free location," he answered with characteristic honesty.
Gamble swallowed his coffee wrong and then started sputtering, "Jepsom Acres happens to be perfect for the storyline which plays out almost entirely in the country. I assure you, we do have the funds necessary for this production."
"Right now, you do. How much you have tomorrow, or next week will be in direct correlation to how far you take this thing with my brother. You want to blackball him, you go right ahead. You try putting him in jail, good damn luck funding another movie in the next decade."
CHAPTER THREE
"Rock, you can't say that," Carey cried.
Rock knew his brother wasn't protesting him threatening the producer, he was upset big brother had said to go ahead and black ball him.
"I think it would be a good idea to go to the hotel, before tempers prevail." Ms. Morganstein stood and put her hand out. "Thank you for the coffee."
Alaskan rules of hospitality, much less common courtesy, demanded he take the woman's hand and acknowledge her thanks with a nod.
The others stood as well, the two assistants heading for the door like they had a bear on their tails. Pale and tugging at the collar of his trendy shirt, Carey looked like he'd like very much to join them, but he didn't.
As angry as Rock was at little brother, he felt a twinge of compassion and respect.
The director frowned at Carey and shook his head, but he offered Rock his hand. "I can appreciate your frustration right now, but I hope as a fellow businessman you have some sympathy for our point of view."
Rock didn't say he never would have signed a contract, much less transported an entire film cast and crew before being absolutely sure of the rights of use on a location property. No need to rub the other man's nose in it.
He did appreciate that Carey had put the film makers between a rock and
a glacier, but sympathy might be stretching things a little.
Rock shook the director's hand, surprised at the firm grip. "Don't be too hard on Carey. He's got his reasons for doing what he does, and I expect you sympathize with them better than I do."
Gamble's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I suppose I do."
Carey stopped in front of Rock, his shoulders slumped, his eyes downcast and his mouth turned down at the edges. "I'm sorry, Rock. I thought you'd understand. That you'd want to support me reaching the dream Mom and Dad never managed."
"Damn it, Carey. You know I wanted something else for you."
"So, you're going to undermine my big chance?" Carey looked up at him, but his brother's expression didn't have the petulance his words implied.
"None of this is on me, kid."
Carey sighed. "I know."
"Oh, hell." Rock grabbed his brother and pulled him into a hug. "I'm still here for you, Carey."
Carey hugged him back, tight. "I know. I just wanted..."
His brother let his voice trail off and they both were probably better off for it. Carey stepped back. "I better get out there. Mr. Gamble and Ms. Morganstein are probably pretty mad at me right now."
"You think?"
Carey grimaced. "Yeah, well..."
"Come back for dinner later."
"You mean that? You want to see me later?"
Rock rolled his eyes. "You're my kid brother. I love you. Yes, I want to see you."
"Okay. Well, I'll see if it's okay with um, Mr. Gamble, I guess."
Rock nodded. His brother had a lot of explaining to do and as much as Rock might wish otherwise, he didn't think his own involvement in this fiasco was at an end.
Carey left and Rock was surprised a second later when a small, feminine hand landed on his arm. Deborah.
Every zing of sexual current humming through his body earlier came back in full force as he turned to face her, careful not to dislodge her hand from his arm.
"It was nice meeting you, though I can say with absolute sincerity I wish it had been under different circumstances." She smiled ruefully.
Rock's hatred for the industry fought with an unexpected desire to make things better for her. "Me too."
Her pretty lips settled into a wry line, but the smile remained in her eyes. "You know the old saying. If wishes were horses..."
"All beggars would ride." He'd like to ride her into tomorrow.
Hell, into next week.
Something must have shown on his face because her nostrils flared and her dark gaze heated. "I know what you're thinking."
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it." Her voice came out low and sultry.
Not the time or the place, but he sure enjoyed the affect it had on his body.
She sighed, letting her hand slide along his arm before falling away. "And I really shouldn't be wanting the same thing."
"But you do."
The shake of her head was less a denial than clear confusion.
He had no way of knowing if she had a string of lovers back in Hollywood, or not, but something told Rock this woman didn't give into her sensual instincts all that often.
The urge to reach out and touch rode Rock hard.
This was so unlike him.
He didn't have irresistible urges. Yes, he was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it. But, he was a businessman with a reputation for emotionless rationality.
To be turned on to a woman so deep and so fast just wasn't in him.
Or so he'd thought.
Reaching out, he gave into the need. His hands settled on her shoulders, seeming to fit there just right. "You're a beautiful woman."
"I pay a lot to keep these flawless looks." Her honesty surprised him.
But he liked it. "Is it worth it?"
"I used to think so."
"Not anymore?"
"I don't know."
He didn't press for more. Somewhere in the back of his head was the knowledge people were waiting on her, people he didn't want back in his house right now.
He leaned down, stopping with his lips almost brushing hers. "I don't kiss women I just met."
"I don't either."
"I figured."
"Men or women."
He smiled. "I figured that too."
And then he let their lips connect. Hot lava erupted and rushed through his bloodstream, telling him how stupid this move really was.
He wanted to carry her back up to his bed, but now was not the time. Could not be the time.
She made a small sound of shock and then just melted into him. Damn it.
She was definitely feeling it, too.
It took all his control to keep his hands where they were and the kiss to lips only; he knew if he got tongues involved he would be lost. Even so, his cock went harder than frozen titanium, pressing against his jeans and aching for her sweet depths.
Deborah's lips moved against his with equal urgency, but she kept her hands to herself.
The sound of a car honking outside came right before Deborah's phone started playing a full orchestra version of the William Tell Overture.
Their lips clung even as he stepped back.
He dry-washed his face with his hand. "You have to go."
"I do."
"Maybe I'll see you before you leave Alaska."
She jerked like something in his words had brought her back to earth with a thump. "Maybe. You sure you won't honor that contract Carey signed?"
"Yes." But damned if something inside him didn't warn him he was a liar.
"You can't be serious." Deborah stared at the three people who had crowded into her rustic room at the Northern Lights Lodge.
Her producer, her director and that darn Carey James.
He and his brother were lethal to her equilibrium, if for entirely different reasons. She had not even the tiniest desire to kiss the younger man giving her his most winning look.
Carey's smile turned up another hundred watts. "He's into you. I'm sure he'll listen to reason if you talk to him."
She couldn't deny the attraction, but somehow, she didn't think Rock Jepsom was a man who let himself be led around by his dick.
She crossed to the window, putting as much distance between herself and the others in the room as she could. "You're his brother. You talk to him."
"I tried. We all saw how well that went." Carey rubbed the back of his neck. "It didn't get any better when I went back there for dinner."
She bet that was an interesting conversation. Rock had been pretty restrained in front of everyone. She would like to have seen him showing some real emotion.
And not just the need to have sex.
Though she'd enjoyed that kiss more than she wanted to admit, even in the deepest recesses of her own mind. She touched her lips in memory and then dropped her hand fast when she realized what she was doing.
Carey's expression turned genuinely sad, if Deborah could believe her eyes and not his acting ability. "Rock refused to let me even mention anything to do with Hollywood at dinner."
There was something in Carey's demeanor that said he'd wanted to talk to his brother about his life in Las Angeles maybe even more than the movie. He looked vulnerable and possibly a little desperate.
However, Deborah couldn't forget the younger man had brought this on himself and he'd put her career at risk as well. "Maybe you should have tried it first without the whole movie entourage, you think?"
"Hey, Ms. Morganstein thought it was a good idea."
"Did you?" Deborah asked, not willing to let the younger actor off the hook so easily.
Carey's gaze shifted to the side and he shrugged.
"You know your brother better than any of us." With great effort, Deborah refrained from rolling her eyes. The truth was that obvious. "You knew he wasn't the kind of man who was going to bend to pressure."
"He's stubborn at the best of times, but you get his back up and he gets as immovable as his namesake," Carey admitted.<
br />
That's what she thought. "You had to know bringing us all in to his home was going to do just that."
"I suppose. Just this once, he could have seen reason, though. People change."
Deborah didn't agree. Not men like that. "If you say so."
"Look, he's pissed at me about this right now," Carey said. "He's not going to listen to anything I say, no matter how much sense it makes. You were the only one he was nice to."
That wasn't precisely true. Rock hadn't been mean to Carey. In fact, he'd repeatedly made it clear he considered his home as Carey's and hugged his brother good-bye.
Her parents would have thrown everyone out on their ears, including Deborah. "He was polite to all of us, considering the circumstances."
"But he wants you," Carey wheedled. "He doesn't just go for women like that."
"He didn't go for me." Which was an outright lie, but one she felt she had a right to.
Carey didn't look convinced. Neither did the other two.
"You were in there quite a while after we left," Ms. Morganstein observed.
Art Gamble had that calculating gleam in his eyes that never boded well between an actor and a director. "And you looked like you'd been kissing."
"I was thanking him for his hospitality."
Carey made no effort to hold back his own snort of disbelief.
Deborah rounded on him. "And you think I should do what? Offer him my body in exchange for use of his land?"
Carey and the director both looked hopeful, which probably should have made her angrier than it did. She'd been on her own in the world too long to be entirely surprised by their reactions.
Ms. Morganstein had enough sense to shake her head. "No, of course not. But you can talk to him. You're invested in this working too. Need I remind you that you exchanged part of your own salary for a production credit on this film?"
"No, or course not."
Art rubbed his chin. "You aren't going to direct one scene, much less two if this film doesn't get made."
"You're directing two of our scenes?" Carey demanded.
"Not our scenes--" Deborah started to say.
"That's not important right now. What is important is that Deborah has as much invested in this film going forward as any of us, maybe more than some of us." Ms. Morganstein's subtle reminder that Deborah's career wasn't setting the world on fire and this chance to move behind the camera didn't come along every day wasn't needed.
