by Ruth Langan
Laughing, she placed a hand over his mouth. “I get the picture. And I promise, I’ll never again call this situation primitive. But I’m not so sure that word wouldn’t apply to someone I know who actually seems to be thriving on all of this.”
He nodded as he carried the toast to the coffee table. “I think you’re right.” He filled their cups with steaming coffee, then sat down beside her and bit into his eggs. “I can’t say I liked the idea of having the power cut off. But being cut off from civilization isn’t all that bad. I thought at first I wouldn’t be able to stand not knowing what was going on in the world.” He gave her a sideways glance. “It’s the reporter in me. I’ll admit I’m a newsaholic. But the truth is, I think I needed this complete break from the outside world. Without all the interruptions and distractions, I’ve had plenty of time to think.”
“About what?” She broke off a piece of toast, spread it with strawberry preserves.
“About where I’ve been. And where I’m going.”
“Have you come to any decisions?”
He sipped his coffee. “Not so far. But I’ve certainly been able to work through a lot of things that have been troubling me.” He studied her over the rim of his cup. “And right now, thanks to you, Hollywood, I’m feeling like I could take on the entire world. And win.”
She almost blushed. “Tell me about your world, Jace. The one you’ve been living in as a reporter.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you want to know about some of the things I’ve seen. The wars, and bombings, and the misery of the people who’ve been forced to live through them.”
She realized he didn’t really want to talk about that part of his life. It was still too painful. “But you must have seen some warm, loving, moving events as well.”
He nodded and smiled. “Just when I’d begin to lose hope of ever seeing anything uplifting, I’d witness something that was so noble, so generous, it would bring me up short and remind me why I was there. I wasn’t supposed to cover only the sadness, but to report on the greatness of people, as well. Especially people under fire. That’s when they’re at their best and their worst.” He paused a moment, lost in thought. “There was a little girl. No more than six or seven. Long blond curls. Big sad eyes. She’d lost a leg in an earlier bombing, and used a stick for a crutch. Every day I’d see her hobbling through the town where I was reporting on the rebel activity. She’d duck behind buildings at the sound of gunfire, and scurry out of the way of the rebels’ trucks. But always she would cross the town square, and return hours later. One day I stopped her and asked her about herself. She explained that she’d lost her father and mother, her older sister and two little brothers—all in the same bombing that cost her her leg. She was now living temporarily with a neighbor family who were good to her, even though they could barely afford to feed their own children. I asked her where she went everyday. And she said she was going to school. There was a woman who taught a few orphans across town, and this little girl went there faithfully. When I asked her why she would risk injury, even death, to go to school every day, she said simply, ‘Because I promised my mama before she died that I would not neglect my education.”’
He shook his head. “Months later, when I was in that hospital bed, fighting to walk, I used to think about the courage of that little girl. Some days it was the only thing that kept me trying to get back on my feet.”
Ciara swallowed the lump in her throat. “I wonder what happened to her.”
“She’s been adopted by a family in London.”
Her head came up. “How did she get to London?”
Jace shrugged. “I arranged to have her airlifted out of Bosnia before I left.”
“Oh, Jace.” Ciara brushed her lips over his cheek. “And you try to make yourself out to be such a tough guy.”
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff. “I’m really a pushover. Especially for long blond curls and big sad eyes. Just don’t let anybody else know my secret.”
“It’s safe with me.” Her gaze fell on a notebook, half buried beneath the cushions of the sofa. “Is that mine?”
Jace picked it up, handed it to her. “Yeah. Your screenplay, Heartbeat.”
She arched a brow and looked at him with a quizzical expression. “How do you know the title?”
“I read it. I figured you wouldn’t mind, or you wouldn’t have left it lying there when you took off for your walk.”
She’d forgotten all about it. She got to her feet, feeling as if the cabin had suddenly become too warm.
“What’s wrong?” Jace stood and put a hand on her arm.
“Nothing. I just wasn’t ready to let anyone else read it yet. Especially someone who earns his living by writing.”
“Is that what’s worrying you?” He closed his fingers around her arm, holding her when she tried to pull away. “For what it’s worth, I thought it was fantastic.”
She turned. Studied his face a little too carefully. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better? Come on, Jace. I can take the truth. No matter how bad it is.”
“And I’m telling you the truth. It’s a fabulous script. I couldn’t put it down.”
For the longest time she merely stared at him. Then she said softly, “You mean it, don’t you? You really, really mean it?” Her eyes started to fill, and she had to blink hard.
He drew her close, as much for himself as for her. Seeing her emotions so close to the surface reminded him how much this meant to her. Despite all her success as an actress, this was an entirely new challenge, and she was feeling vulnerable. “Believe me. When I first met you, Hollywood, I never would have thought I’d be saying this. But you’re one hell of a gifted writer.”
“Oh, Jace.” She buried her face in his shoulder and held on until she managed to compose herself. Then, pushing away a little, she took a deep breath and gave him a radiant smile. “I want to celebrate. I saw some skis in a closet. Let’s clear away the dishes, then hike to the top of the hill and ski down.”
“Are you sure that’s what you’d like?” He glanced at the sofa. “If you’d rather stay in here where it’s warm, I could think of some way to celebrate, and get our exercise at the same time.”
“Yeah, I just bet you could.” She laughed, feeling happier than she could ever remember. There was a lightness around her heart that hadn’t been there in years. “Come on. I’ll wash. You dry.”
“The last time I saw this much snow was in Lake Tahoe.” Ciara paused at the top of the hill to catch her breath. She carried a pair of skis over her shoulder. “I was skiing in a celebrity charity event.”
“I suppose you’re called on to do a lot of those things.”
She nodded. “Too many to count. Certainly more than I can possibly accept. But I try to attend as many as I can. It’s one of the best things about my business. I realize the importance of using celebrities’ names to raise money for good causes.”
“Are you a good skier?” Jace paused beside her and planted his skis in the snow.
“Pretty average. But I’ve taken enough lessons so that I don’t embarrass myself in public. How about you?”
He nodded. “There wasn’t a lot of time, with all the assignments I accepted. But whenever I could, I’d slip away to Switzerland or Germany. It’s some of the best skiing in the world. Have you ever skied the Alps?”
She shook her head. “It looks so incredibly beautiful in photographs. But there’s never been time between movies.”
“Yeah. Time. We never seem to have enough of it. At least not for the things we really want, do we?” He caught her hand in his and linked their fingers. “I’d love to show you the Swiss Alps. There’s a quaint little resort there. Nestled in the valley between the most majestic mountain peaks you’ll ever see. You’d swear you’ve stepped back in time. Feather beds tucked under snow-covered eaves. Hot toddies served by white-gloved waiters. Warm towels when you step from your bath. And late in the afternoon, just as the sun is going down, you can take a
sleigh ride over a breathtaking mountain pass.”
“Oh, Jace. It sounds heavenly.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “You make me realize how much I’ve missed in my life. And how much I still want to see and do.”
He nodded, growing pensive. “We always tell ourselves we’ll do all these special things later. But for some, later will never come.”
Ciara could see that he had gone somewhere in his mind. A dark place where she could never follow. She watched, silent and understanding, while he stared into the distance, lost in thought.
At length he shrugged off the mood and brightened. “Well, this may not be Switzerland. But it’s all we’ve got. So come on, Hollywood. What are we waiting for?”
He snapped on his skis, and she did the same. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and stuck her hands into mismatched mittens that she’d found in the back of the closet. Then she shoved off and started down the hill. Her hair, which she’d pulled into a ponytail, streamed out the back of her baseball cap like a streak of golden sunlight.
Jace shoved off, too, forging his own trail, until they were skiing side by side. He glanced over to see her laugh with delight. When they approached a line of trees, she veered right and he veered left, and for some time they were each alone, with only the sound of their skis cutting through the snow. Below the tree line, they came together again, smoothly skimming the unbroken snow, until Ciara lost her balance and took a tumble, landing in a drift.
With a look of concern Jace retrieved her ski and came to a sudden stop beside her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She yanked off her mittens and glasses, then accepted the ski from his hands. “The tip of my ski hit something. A boulder, I think.”
“But nothing’s broken?”
“Nothing but my pride.”
“Want to finish the run?”
“Of course I do. You don’t think I’d quit now, do you?” Her cheeks were as red as apples, her eyes bright with challenge. “In fact, if you’d like, we’ll race the rest of the way.”
“Suits me. What’s the prize for the winner?”
She gave it a moment’s thought. “Do you think the generator will work long enough for another hot bath?”
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Well, then, I think the loser should have to scrub the winner’s back. And then, while the winner is soaking up a very long, very hot bath, the loser can fix dinner.”
“Hmm. I like the sound of that. It’s been a long time since I had my back scrubbed.”
“Oh, you’re so confident. I like that in a man. But I hope you’re not too disappointed when you’re fixing dinner again tonight.” She stood and fastened her skis, then picked up her glasses and mittens. “We’ll go on the count of three.”
“Hurry and get those mittens on, Hollywood. I can’t wait for that back scrub.”
Minutes later they flashed down the hill in a blur of color.
“A little lower.” Jace closed his eyes and sighed with contentment. “Ah. Now that’s just about perfect.”
Behind him, Ciara knelt in the steamy water and moved the washcloth slowly over his back. Though she made all sorts of noise about hating to lose, the truth was, she was having the time of her life.
The tub was filled almost to overflowing. With each movement, water sloshed and threatened to spill over the edge. It was deliciously warm and fragrant—although she had lost the race, she’d won the right to use bubbles.
At first Jace had refused. “I think it’s only fair that the winner should decide what kind of a bath it’ll be.”
“I agree. But if you’ve never tried a bubble bath, how do you know if you’d like it or not?”
“I want a simple, manly bath. Plain old soap and water. I have no intention of smelling like a French—” He stopped and burst into laughter at the look on her face. “You know what, Hollywood? You can pout better than anyone I’ve ever known.” He’d kissed her lips, then stepped back. “Okay. We’ll try it your way. Maybe a bubble bath won’t be so bad.”
With a squeal of delight she’d poured a generous supply of liquid into the tub, and turned the taps on as high as they’d go. Now they were practically drowning in bubbles.
She caught a handful and smeared them over his shoulders before touching her lips to the back of his neck. “Now, aren’t you glad you gave in? There’s nothing like a bubble bath, is there?”
“Especially when it’s shared by two. Lower.”
She moved the washcloth down his back, and he gave another sigh.
Ciara studied the hard muscles of his back, the ripple along his upper arms and shoulders. “Beautiful,” she whispered. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“What is?”
“Your body.”
“Uh-huh. You’re just trying to distract me so I’ll forget about the back scrub. Lower.”
She moved the washcloth lower, and without thinking, pressed herself against him and brushed her lips over his warm, wet flesh.
His voice was gruff. “You’re doing it again. No fair taking advantage of me like that, Hollywood.”
“Like what?”
“Pressing that naked body to mine. You know what it does to my willpower.”
“What does it do?”
“It makes me want to do this.” He turned and drew her into the circle of his arms, sending water spilling over the rim of the tub.
She giggled. “Jace, look what you’re doing.”
“Yeah.” He shot her a grin and leaned back, dragging her on top of him. The water sloshed, spilling everywhere. But neither of them noticed as he pulled her closer—close enough for their mouths to mate.
“I know I promised you a soft bed,” he murmured against her lips. “And I really intend to keep that promise. But if you don’t mind—” his hands began exploring her body “—maybe we could get a head start.”
She sighed as his hands moved over her. “I don’t mind. But it’s hard to give a back scrub when your ‘client’ is lying on his back.”
“Yeah. You seem to have distracted me again, Hollywood.”
She gasped as he took one slick nipple into his mouth…and slowly began to drive her mad.
He saw the way her eyes suddenly glazed with passion. It gave him the most erotic feeling. His hands tightened as he drew her to him until they were completely joined.
“I think we’ll have to put off that bed until later. What I have in mind just can’t wait.”
“Neither can…”
Her words trailed off as he swept her away to paradise.
“Is that pizza I smell?” Jace climbed down from the loft and breathed in the fragrance of cheese and spices.
“I found it in the box of frozen food out in the shed.” Ciara turned from the fire, where she was just removing the round tray from the hot coals. She had pulled on a turtleneck and jeans, and had left her damp hair to fall into soft curls around her face. “I hope you don’t mind. I know it’s not as fancy as some of the dishes you’ve prepared, but since our wager didn’t stipulate what the loser had to fix for dinner…”
“I’m crazy about pizza. Never could get it in those small out-of-the-way places overseas. Just smelling it makes me drool.” He tugged on one of her curls and kissed her cheek. “Almost as much as smelling you makes me drool.” He breathed in the scent of her. “What is that perfume you wear?”
“It’s called soap and water.” She laughed, gave his arm a shove. “Make yourself useful. You can open that bottle of Chianti I found.”
Minutes later he was pouring red wine, while she cut the pizza and served it onto plates. Jace sipped his wine and leaned back with a sigh of contentment. “Wine, pizza and a beautiful woman. I just don’t think it gets any better.”
She studied him. He wore jeans and a fisherman’s knit sweater. Beads of water glistened in his hair. He looked relaxed and content. Exactly, she realized, the way she felt. More content than at any time since she’d climbed into her car, determined to escape the media ci
rcus.
He closed a hand over hers. “What’re you smiling about, Hollywood?”
She shook her head. “I’m just thinking what a wonderful surprise this weekend has turned out to be.”
“Yeah. For me too.”
“It should have been a disaster. An unexpected storm. No power. No way to leave.” She turned their hands over, studying their linked fingers. “And two very different people who were each desperate to be left alone.”
“We were, weren’t we? And look at us now.”
She nodded. “Sipping wine. Eating pizza. Actually enjoying each other’s company.”
He shot her a meaningful look. “And looking forward to actually using a bed tonight.”
She shook her head. “I should have known you’d find a way to get back to that. And I thought you were fixated on food.”
“That comes in a close second.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. “But my number-one fixation is you, Hollywood.”
He suddenly caught her hand and dragged her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s take the pizza and wine with us.”
“With us? Where are we going?”
“I’ve just thought of a way to have it all.” He winked, causing her heart to do somersaults. “We’ll eat in bed.”
Eleven
“Tell me about your family, Jace.”
They were lying in the big bed, sipping the last of the wine, and sharing a piece of cold pizza. The bedclothes were tangled, and they were both pleasantly sated.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what you were like as a boy. How you grew up. What you dreamed of doing.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable talking about himself. “My family started out on a hundred-thousand-acre ranch in Texas.”
Ciara’s eyes widened. She swallowed her pizza, then finally managed to say, “A hundred thousand acres? Jace, that’s bigger than my little town, and the town next to it, and the towns on either side, and probably half the state of Kentucky all mixed together.”
