Between Takes

by Morgana Bevan

  As expected, a crowd of cameras waited to snap me as I took my first stumbling steps from the limo.

  Can we pause on that: A freaking limo!

  My jaw hit the floor when Shaun guided me to the set car park and the sparkly, black stretch limo waiting for us. We hadn’t even gotten limos when we were kids. It had been a bit of a fad with my classmates when we were twelve. However, my parents didn’t catch on to that particular trend.

  The car was noticeably stripped of all alcohol, which was a relief even if I could have done with a stiff drink to quell my nerves. I’d rather be nervous than have Shaun on edge.

  Soon we pulled up outside this swanky hotel, and the flashes started. I shied away from the window. I’m sure I had Bambi eyes when I glanced at Shaun. Yet his reassuring grip on my hand helped calm me a little.

  “We can pull around back and skip the press line if you want.”

  It was sweet of him to offer, but rather stupid if he’d paused to think about the consequences. Sherry would blow a gasket if tomorrow’s papers didn’t all hold his clean, sober face, and that was really the whole point of my presence.

  Instead of snatching the offer as I wanted to, I squeezed his hand, forced a smile to my lips and pushed back my shoulders. “You have to be seen and I have to be seen with you. I’ll be okay. Just don’t let me trip.”

  He nodded, amusement pulling at his lips. “If it gets too intense, touch your earring and I’ll get us off the carpet, okay?”

  Yep, they’d laid out a red carpet for a charity event.

  I guess I should have expected it, considering they’d had a flood of ticket requests after Sherry confirmed that Shaun would attend. The organisers had to change the venue three times before they decided enough was enough. I felt a pang of sympathy in the pit of my stomach at the thought of how much extra work had gone into running the event. Rather them than me.

  Without giving me any warning, Shaun threw the door open. If sound had a physical presence, I’d be flat on my back with the wall of noise that crashed into the quiet confines of our limo.

  The chaos of the press line invaded, and Shaun got out. A nervous flutter settled in my throat, and I pressed my fingers to it, hoping it would stop, or at least not make me throw up. Not that that had ever happened, but it would just be my luck.

  When Shaun reached back into the car for me, I didn’t have it under control. My nerves had snatched away my ability to speak, which was fine. I didn’t need to speak to walk on a carpet. That was Shaun’s job.

  His concerned gaze met mine when I didn’t immediately take his hand and slide out of the car. “I can send Tom around the back with you.”

  I could only just make out the words.

  Again, I firmed my spine and plastered on what I hoped was a serene expression. For ten minutes, I needed to pretend I was someone who did this. That’s what author Neil Gaiman recommended when you were forced into new situations. Pretend that you’re someone who can do it until you believe you can.

  I didn’t try to answer Shaun. It would have been pointless even without the lump in my throat. Instead, I took his hand and slid towards the door. An encouraging smile morphed onto his face, and some of my nervous energy subsided.

  The noise level grew as I stepped from the car, and Shaun immediately wrapped his arm around me. He guided me down the carpet at a snail’s pace to an onslaught of press and questions, none of which he dignified with an answer.

  After ten minutes of it, my feet started to pinch. I might have agreed to three-inches, but that didn’t mean I was used to them. I tried not to shift from foot to foot to ease the pressure.

  One moment we were posing for photos, and the next Shaun whisked me down the carpet, skipping at least four markers. I don’t know if it was some internal timer Shaun had developed for these events or if he’d grown bored. Maybe he caught the pain in my eyes. Whatever the cause, I was grateful.

  But the attention didn’t stop there.

  The huge ballroom was laid out with large circular tables that sat ten, maybe twelve, people surrounding a large dance floor and stage. Lights dangled from the ceiling, creating a relaxed atmosphere. Instrumental music floated through the space, the volume turned down and almost drowned out by the chatter of a thousand people.

  A thousand people who now stared at me as the hosts led us to our table. My head, neck and back itched with all those eyes on me. Didn’t they have anything better to do than speculate about a celebrity’s date?

  Shaun pulled my chair out, and I sat, my forced expression of calm still firmly in place despite the whispers surrounding me and the anxiety stirring in my mind. Shaun thanked the hosts and moved his chair closer to mine before joining me.

  He leant close, his smile patient. The whispers intensified. “How are you doing?”

  “This is a bit much.” I tried to speak without moving my lips. Those who couldn’t eavesdrop kept squinting at my mouth, trying to read my lips.

  Shaun laughed. “They’ll get bored soon.” He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head until I met his happy gaze. “I’m really proud of how well you held it together out there.”

  “Thank you. I’m still shocked I didn’t throw up.”

  “Damn, that would have been a great way to get their attention off of me,” Shaun joked, trying and failing to look serious.

  “Nah, it would have backfired on you. They’d want to know what you did to make me sick.”

  Shaun nodded. He didn’t look around the room or pay the faintest bit of attention to the women vying for his. His focus stayed on me.

  The upbeat, easy light in his eyes dimmed then. “Take your shoes off for a bit if you need to.”

  Surprise shot through me. “How did you know?”

  He stroked my hair, careful not to disturb the five layers of hairspray holding it in place.

  “You know how they say the eyes are mirrors to the soul?”

  I nodded, although I really didn’t believe it.

  “I think that’s a load of bullshit, but yours are next-level expressive. I’m sorry I made you do the last two. They were major tabloids and I wouldn’t have heard the end of it from Sherry if I’d skipped.”

  I pulled his hand into my lap beneath the table and squeezed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll protect you from Sherry.”

  He laughed. “No one can protect me from Sherry, but I appreciate it.” Then for the first time since we entered, he glanced around the room. “I need to mingle for a bit, be seen and all that. I’m loath to leave you sitting here, but I really want a dance later.” His eyes dropped to my lap.

  I frowned as I tried to puzzle out his meaning. Did he want the sexual kind of dance or a literal dance?

  Shaun pressed a finger to my brow, smoothing the concentration out. “I figured you’d want to rest your feet so you can keep up with me on the dance floor later.” He nodded towards the empty wooden slab beside us.

  My eyes widened as I caught on, and Shaun laughed again. “Do I want to ask what you thought I meant?”

  “Not unless you want to burn your control and this dress.”

  His eyes darkened as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t tempt me.” Then with a knowing smirk, he left me to wander the room.

  It didn’t take long for some woman to sidle up to him and try to attach herself. She wore a short, strapless dress, and her dyed platinum-blond hair tumbled down her back.

  Despite knowing better, an ugly stab of jealousy squeezed my heart. She was taller and thinner than me. Yet I was endowed in the breast department and hers were definitely fake, so I had that pro in my column. Okay, so it was debatable whether she was actually prettier than me. But fuck buddies or not, he was still mine, and she was touching my man. I held my breath and waited for his reaction with laser focus. My toes dug into the heels I’d kicked off, ready to shove them on and power walk across the room if I had to.

  He glanced down at her and stepped away, shaking her off and continuing to talk to a ge
ntleman with salt-and-pepper hair.

  My heart pounded with the relief, but it was short lived.

  The vulture followed, pressing herself against him, trying to touch his neck with her raptor claws.

  Sighing, I shoved my screaming feet back into my heels and forced myself to stand. Then I picked up both our glasses of sparkling water and stomped across the room.

  “Excuse me.” I smiled, but it probably looked more frightening than a shark baring its teeth. I used my shoulder to shove her away from Shaun and handed him his glass. She backed away, huffing and pulling a face.

  “Clearly I can’t leave you anywhere alone.” I kept my tone light, but when I glanced at Shaun, his open grin told me I hadn’t fooled him. He pulled me into his side and kissed my head. “Jealousy looks good on you,” he whispered, his lips caressing my ear.

  Before I could comment, he turned back to the silver fox he’d been talking to. “John, I’d like you to meet Mona Baines.”

  Introductions were made before they settled back into a boring conversation about union fees. I zoned out, sipped my champagne and enjoyed the heat of Shaun’s hand pressing possessively against my hip.

  I appreciated the time inside my head, anyway. I needed to process this new development because when I’d spotted Ms Fake Platinum cosying up to Shaun, I’d felt more than jealous. In fact, I’d been braced for the floor to be torn out from under me.

  If I wasn’t sure of my feelings before, I sure as hell knew them now. This definitely wasn’t a have-fun deal for me anymore. I’d developed an attachment to Shaun. Don’t ask me when it happened, don’t ask me if the L word was involved. I didn’t know the answer.

  I was screwed no matter what.

  Chapter Thirty

  The staff had just cleared the last of the dessert plates when the sound system kicked in. Couples flooded the dance floor — mostly women dragging their reluctant partners. Turning to me, Shaun stood and offered his hand, his eyes daring me to say “no” so he could flip the image and drag me out there.

  I hesitated. “I’m not a great dancer.” As excuses went, it was probably the most overused one in the universe. Shaun shook his head, took my hand and pulled me from my seat. I guess I was being dragged.

  “Nothing some practice won’t fix. You had rhythm with aerial silks. You’ll be fine.”

  He backed onto the floor, pulling me along. I couldn’t help but smile at his ridiculous grin and shining eyes. He looked like a kid at Christmas. We stopped in the middle of the dance floor, and Shaun tugged me forward until I was flush against him. A blush crept up my neck at the press of the bulge in his trousers. It only made his grin widen.

  “See? Now you have to dance with me or everyone will see and that will make the tabloid news.” He shook his head, a remorseful light entering his eyes. “Think of my image, Mona.”

  I laughed. “Fine.”

  With that, he rested a hand on my lower back and gripped my right hand in the other, then whisked us around the dance floor. My cheeks hurt from laughing as he teased me.

  “Shaun! I thought that was you,” a tall dark-haired man said, interrupting our fun. He and his partner had paused at our side, seeming to materialise out of thin air.

  Studying him, I noticed his face shape wasn’t all that dissimilar to Shaun’s, except his had an extra twenty-five years of wear. His eyes seemed almost the exact shade of green.

  Shaun’s entire body went rigid. “Uncle.”

  Well, that explains the similarity.

  “How are you, boy? I haven’t seen you in – has it been ten years?” He glanced at his partner, a redhead of a similar age and almost a foot shorter than him, for help.

  “Ten,” Shaun supplied, the word clipped.

  He still held me against his chest, though he’d dropped the dance hold. His heart beat frantically beneath my palm.

  “A shame about your dad. He was a good man.”

  Shaun’s jolted at his words, and the thin veneer holding his emotions in check cracked. I caught a flicker of anger pass over him before he locked it down.

  “If you’ll excuse us, my date needs to ditch her heels.” The words left Shaun’s mouth in a monotonous string.

  The woman’s gaze dropped to my feet with a sympathetic frown. “Pretty shoes, to be sure, but they always punish the wearer.”

  Shaun nodded, shook his uncle’s hand and frog marched us out of the room. He didn’t say goodbye to the host or try to sneak out; he just stormed out the door with a singular focus. The only thing that slowed him down was the line of photographers still huddled outside the hotel’s front doors.

  He swore before swerving into a quiet corner. Only then did he release me and pull out his phone. His fingers moved across the screen deftly, firing off a text between deep breaths.

  “Hey, look at me,” I demanded, turning his favourite trick on him and forcing his head up. The mixture of pain and anger in his eyes constricted my chest. “What can I do?”

  He shook his head, his eyes travelling around the lobby. The silent message sank in as I followed their path. Despite the festivities inside, a number of people remained in the area. Best not let them hear.

  Our limo pulled up outside and Shaun tucked me under his shoulder. We rushed to the car, ignoring the shouts and flashes around us. Tom opened the door and I slid in, with Shaun following close behind.

  My shoulders slumped as the door slammed on the limo, blocking out the shouts of the press. Free at last. Then my gaze shifted to Shaun as he settled into the seat at the opposite end. He buckled in and buried his head in his hands.

  “Shaun?”

  He ignored me, which, I’ll admit, stung a little. I wanted to go to him and gather him in my arms, but the distance and the fact the car was moving overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to damage my twenty thousand pounds’ worth of designer lace by getting it snagged on anything.

  “Shaun, talk to me.”

  Again, he ignored me.

  Giving a frustrated growl, I kicked off my torture-device heels and stood – or crouched, whatever. If I fell flat on my face and ripped the dress, it would all be on him. The forward momentum of the car made me almost fly across to him. I slammed into the leather seat with zero finesse. He jumped as I approached, and I hoped that our night wasn’t ruined by the memories holding his mind captive.

  With tentative pressure, I placed my hand on his forearm, testing him. When he didn’t immediately pull away, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand from his face. Weaving our fingers together, I tugged on him until he looked at me.

  Shaun rolled his head towards me. He smiled, but it was a frightening sight. It was like someone had sucked all the joy out of him.

  I let my fingers trail across his slack-jawed face. “What’s wrong?”

  “After everything he did to us, they still think he was some kind of saint.”

  “Your uncle?”

  He didn’t answer me. His dead eyes fixed on me, but his mind wasn’t in the car anymore.

  I bit my lip, considering my limited options. I could shock him, try to crack a joke or slap him. I opted for my quickest bet: shock.

  “Shaun?” I used my grip on his hand to shake him, but all I got was a disconnected “hmm” for my efforts.

  I could always…

  I was wrapped up tighter than a Christmas present, but that could be remedied with some work.

  Without allowing myself much time to think, I parted the skirt of the dress and shuffled myself into Shaun’s lap. It took my straddling him to elicit a response. His hands dropped to my thighs, stabilising me in the bumpy car. His head shot up, mild interest flashing in his eyes.

  “What are you doing, Sparky?”

  “The night’s not ending with you miserable.”

  He quirked a brow. “Is that so?”

  My nod was firm, but the press of my lips was even more forceful. It felt like minutes ticked by while I worked my mouth and tongue against his with no response.

&nb
sp; In that moment, it turned personal. If I couldn’t get him to respond, it was a comment on his interest in me. I point-blank refused to allow a different outcome.

  I shifted my hips, grazing his semi-hard dick and changed up the pace of my kisses. His hold on my hips tightened, pulling at me, keeping the movement going. I swallowed his groan with triumph.

  His hand travelled up my back and I shivered as he traced my skin through the lace.

  “Okay, you’ve got my attention,” he said as he dragged his mouth along my jaw and down my neck. “You won’t let me rip this dress off you like I want to, so you’d better have a plan if you want it to survive.”

  “Well, first you need to free me from the lycra. I’m sure you can figure it out from there.” My tone was dry as I shifted back to my seat.

  Shaun chuckled, but his hand slid up my skirt without argument. The laughter died when he reached my waist and still hadn’t found the waistband.

  “What the hell did Moira do to you?” he asked, despair dripping from his voice.

  It was my turn to laugh. “Just keep going.”

  In the end, I ended up with the dress hiked to my chest. Thankfully, it wasn’t skin-tight, so moving the fabric didn’t hurt. Getting shapewear off was not the sexiest thing in the world. When he dragged the elastic material over my hips, he caught my underwear and divested me of them at the same time. Efficient man. After dumping the material on the floor, he didn’t wait for me to straighten my dress or sit up properly. His fingers trailed up my thighs, sending off sparks as he pulled me in for a heated kiss.

  His fingers slid against my clit without pause, massaging in circles that succeeded in driving me out of my head.

  Shaun groaned into my mouth again. “How are you so wet already?”

  Thankfully, he didn’t wait for a response. My speech capabilities had skipped off with my underwear. He slipped two fingers inside me, pulsing them in and out while applying pressure with his thumb.

  A minute tops and I was panting, moaning into his mouth. I’d thank the location for it. Who knew sex in the back of a limo could be so hot?