by Jamie Wesley
“Roberta, I’m an adult,” Fliss said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
The chef deposited a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table, then pressed a kiss to the top of her charge’s head. “Yes, I do. I’ve looked out for you since you were a little girl. That’s not going to stop now.”
She said her good-byes and departed.
Leaving them alone. Together. Two people who couldn’t seem to share the same space for more than three minutes without disagreeing. Or doing something else. He busied himself by opening the wine and pouring it into their glasses.
“Let’s eat,” Fliss said brightly. Too brightly, but since the situation had turned awkward as hell, he complied. “So, uh, what’s your favorite movie?” she asked a few minutes later, clearly unable to take the quiet any longer.
“The Godfather,” he answered immediately.
“If you say so.” She shrugged and took another bite of food.
“The Godfather is the best movie ever made,” he insisted.
“Nah,” she countered. “The Godfather Part II is better. It was both a sequel and a prequel. We learned so much more about the characters in it, which enhanced the experience of the first movie.”
“How can you say that when, literally, there would have been no Godfather II if Godfather had never been made? You know, the movie that introduced those characters you love so much?”
Fliss took another bite of étouffée and shrugged again. “Because I do. Besides, let’s be real. Neither holds a candle to The Princess Bride, which is the most perfect movie ever made.”
He sputtered on a mouthful of wine. “How do you figure that?”
Duh, her look said. “Because it has everything—romance, adventure, comedy, drama. It’s the perfect package.”
Alex found himself laughing. “Fine. I’ll let you have that one.”
She grinned. “Smart man.” She cleared her throat. “Can I talk to you about something?”
The resolve in her voice caught his attention. Alex set his glass down and considered her. “Sure. What’s up?”
Determination lit her eyes. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind about the pitch?”
He sighed and pushed back his chair, stretching out his legs. This again? “No.”
Fliss made a sound of disgust. “You’re impossible.”
Alex didn’t want to question why he tensed at the quietly uttered sentence, why a dart of distress coursed through him. He knew what Fliss thought of him. How their relationship was defined. A few moments of understanding weren’t going to change that.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
At his nod, she pushed away from the table, her chair scraping angrily across the floor tiles, and took their empty bowls to the dishwasher. The dishes clattered as she haphazardly stuffed them inside the machine. She muttered to herself. Not loudly, but “pigheaded” came through loud and clear.
A chuckle escaped from him before he could stop it. He started in surprise, then laughed harder.
“What’s so funny?” Fliss leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.
Maybe he had. His laughter increased in volume. “I never have to worry about my ego getting out of hand when you’re around.”
The annoyance on her face slowly disappeared, only to be replaced with a small smile he didn’t trust in the slightest. She glided toward the table. “Someone’s got to keep you in line. You think I didn’t notice all the sycophants who magically appeared whenever you, Keith, and I were together? ‘Oh, Mr. Graham, I love your movies so much. I’d loooove to work with you,’” she cooed in a syrupy, sweet voice, batting her eyelashes.
His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know you’d noticed.”
“How could I not when they were propositioning you a foot away from me? But I could see why.”
“Because I’m a successful producer.”
“Because you’re hot…in a grumpy way.”
His smile slipped. Damn it, she was doing it again. Flirting. Trying to get a rise out of him. He wouldn’t react. He couldn’t.
Fliss leaned down and slid a finger down the center of his face from his forehead to his chin. A light touch, but he still felt like he’d been branded. Her touch, no matter how innocent, affected him like no other woman’s ever had. Why? They didn’t get along, although he was having a hard time remembering why. Her finger stroked up, barely grazing his lips. He should stop her. Would stop her. As soon as he regained control of his senses and figured out how and why he’d lost control of them. Again.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. The permanent grumpy look on your face, starting with the scrunched-up eyebrows,” she said, tapping his forehead.
“Maybe I’m grumpy because you keep insulting me.” Yeah, that sounded good. The real reason—he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare—was better left unsaid.
“Did you ever think I keep insulting you because I think the grumpy look is hot?”
The sultry tone in her voice stopped him cold. His patented control deserted him. The sharpest sense of desire he’d ever felt in his life surged through his body.
“What are you doing?” His voice came out gruff. Strained. He reached for her wrist to drag her hand away but found himself stroking the soft spot where her pulse hammered instead.
Her voice came out soft, hesitant. “What do you mean?”
He’d avoided the question because he didn’t want to know the answer. Because he didn’t want to examine his reaction to it too closely. How his heart leaped in anticipation and his skin buzzed in excitement. “Why are you flirting with me?”
Fliss blinked rapidly like she was coming out of a trance. Like she hadn’t realized what she was doing. She tugged her wrist out of his grasp and took a quick step backward.
He waited impatiently for the answer. When it didn’t come, he asked again, “Why are you flirting with me?”
She shrugged defensively, her eyes skidding away. “I don’t know. Because.”
He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. “Because what?”
Her gaze swung back to him. “Because you’re uptight. I like to get a rise out of you.”
“Is that all?”
Defiance settled across her features. “You want the truth? Fine. No, that’s not all. I do it because it’s easy with you. It feels good.”
“Oh.” Any other response was beyond him. She’d stunned him with her honesty.
They stared at each other. Was she going to ask him to leave? Should he go? After all, it wasn’t like he wanted her to flirt with him.
“Let’s watch TV.” She turned on her heel and exited the kitchen.
Surprised yet again, he didn’t move. Fliss kept him off-balance more than any other person he’d ever known. She wasn’t content with letting him have his way. Stroking his ego. Telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. Then, right when he got used to that, she hit him with a confession he hadn’t expected in a million years. Shaking his head, he stood and followed her into the living room. Because he still had a few functioning brain cells left, he sat on the opposite end of the couch from her. She grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and turned on the TV.
“Thank you for tuning in to Hollywood Tonight,” a blonde anchorwoman said. “I’m Shauna White. We start the show with exclusive footage of Keith Simms stepping out with his new ladylove, Rebecca Peterson, his co-star in the romantic comedy The Two of Us. Their rampant public displays of affection have us wondering if Simms is planning another trip down the aisle soon. After all, he did tell Hollywood Tonight that Peterson is the type of woman he’s been looking for his entire life. An interesting statement considering his divorce to Felicity Chambers was finalized only last week. We have to wonder if she’s moved on from her marriage as quickly as Simms has.”
Fliss gasped. Alex wrenched the remote out of her hand and smashed the off button. “Damn it, are you all right?”
Sh
e sat there, as though transfixed, staring at the TV for the longest five seconds of his life before turning her head slowly to look at him. “Yeah, I am. The divorce was a long time coming, and I’m glad it’s over.”
“You sure?”
Fliss sighed. “Alex, gossip sites and entertainment shows and tabloids are all part of being an actor in Hollywood. I knew and accepted that going in.”
Brave words, but he knew she’d never anticipated having her marriage fall apart and having all the ensuing drama—who her husband was sleeping with, when, where, and how, and the hotly contested divorce—play out for everyone’s amusement.
His doubt must have shown on his face because she offered up a rueful smile. “I’m fine. Really. I know I, well, Roberta fed you, but I haven’t actually said thank you for being there for me that night.”
Something unexpectedly tender inside him squeezed. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. You’re the reason I didn’t succumb to the headache from hell or spend the night thinking of innovative ways to torture Keith.” She paused. “Can I ask you something?”
She looked so small. So tough. So determined to be strong. Denying her that one request wasn’t a possibility. “Yes.”
“Did you know?”
No need to ask for clarification. Did he know about Keith’s cheating? “No,” he answered honestly. Marriage wasn’t a game. Which was why he refused to entertain the thought until he’d reached his goals and could be worthy of a wife and could give his all to the union. “He knew that if I did, I’d kick his ass all the way back to Philadelphia.”
Her lips quirked up. “Even though you don’t like me?”
He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like you.”
Her eyebrows went up. “It’s not? Could’ve fooled me.”
He deserved that. Their interactions had never been filled with warmth, and he’d kept his distance. “I didn’t understand you. Rushing into marriage isn’t something I understand. Hell, I don’t understand rushing into anything. I plan. Study all the angles before I make a move.”
“Why?” Her whiskey eyes reached deep into him, searching for something he didn’t know if he had to give.
“Why what?” he asked to delay the inevitable.
“Why don’t you rush into things?” Both her patience and willingness to understand were obvious. Endearing.
His right hand tensed where it rested on his leg.
“Because of the way I grew up.” He could give her that much. She knew he and Keith hadn’t grown up in the best neighborhood. But he would offer no more. He didn’t go into details about his childhood. Ever.
His shoulders stiffened as he waited for the follow-up question he knew was coming.
She nodded. “Okay, I get that, but that doesn’t explain why you got colder toward me as time went on.”
That was it? She wasn’t going to pry?
Alex relaxed and settled back against the sofa cushion. “Because I didn’t understand how you could stay with someone who treated you like that.” He was done with the inquisition. His turn. “Why did you—do you—argue with me?”
“Because you disapproved of me and thought I was an impulsive, flighty nincompoop. It annoyed me. You thought, no, you think you know everything.” Her gaze and tone were steadfast.
His lips curved. “And you accuse me of always speaking my mind.” At least it was all in the open now. The source of the tension between them. Right? It wasn’t like he’d been attracted to her all along, right? Right. He shook his head to get rid of the troublesome thought. Ordered himself to breathe.
She laughed, drawing his attention to her mouth. Her lipstick had long ago disappeared. She didn’t need it. Her lips were full and pink. Especially the bottom one. Perfect. Tempting. What were they talking about again?
“Why did you stay?” he asked. “It made no sense.” A question he’d asked himself entirely too many times. He liked order, and in no way did staying with a faithless, disrespectful spouse make sense.
She scooted close, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “It made perfect sense to me. I wanted to honor the commitment I made to him. I loved him.” She shrugged. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“It shouldn’t be enough if the other person doesn’t respect you,” he said forcefully.
She chuckled. “Calm down, Mr. Conscientious. Believe me, I know that now. It took me awhile, but I’m fine.”
He nodded. “Good. I’m happy for you.”
Joy bloomed in her eyes like she hadn’t expected the sentiment. He dropped his eyes, determined not to drown. Bad idea. His gaze again snagged on her plump lips. He knew what they tasted like. Delicious. Like sunshine. They parted as she drew in shallow breaths. He raised his eyes. Air backed up in his chest.
Desire had darkened her orbs. Yes, she felt it, too. Their attraction—as unlikely as it was—was still present and potent. Somehow, they’d ended up right next to each other, knees touching. He lowered his head. Right before their mouths met, a soft sigh escaped from her lips.
Alex jerked back and leaped from the sofa. “I should go.”
Without waiting for a response, he hurried out of the room. He heard Fliss following him but didn’t stop. He had to get out of here. Away from the spell she too easily cast over him. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t have time for whatever this was. Getting involved with Fliss made no sense on so many levels. Still, her scent clouded his senses. Arousal clawed at him, dogging his steps.
“Alex?”
He paused with his hand on the knob. He should open the door and walk outside into the night air that was surely cooler than the air brimming with heat inside the house. He knew he should. Instead, he turned, unable to resist the sound of her voice. Unable to find the control he was so proud of. She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Yes?” he asked.
CHAPTER SIX
Fliss didn’t know if she could speak. She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. Talking to him, unburdening herself earlier, had felt fantastic. The understanding on his face had nearly undone her.
She bit her lip, hoping he felt what she felt. A connection that only seemed to strengthen as the seconds ticked away. Drawn to him like a magnet, she drifted closer. He didn’t move away. All she had to do to touch him was raise a hand to his wide chest. Would his heart be beating as fast as hers was?
Her eyes drifted to his lips. All she had to do to touch them was rise on her toes and press her mouth against his. She looked up. His eyes had darkened. His body was strung tight with tension. Like it was killing him not to touch her. Was he going to kiss her?
She didn’t realize she’d voiced the question out loud until he said, “No.”
He spoke so quietly Fliss almost believed she’d imagined it. Except she hadn’t. Only one word, but it ripped her heart open.
“You don’t want me.” Oh, God, why couldn’t she control her mouth?
Alex shook his head. “Don’t pull that bullshit on me.”
“Why is it bullshit?” she murmured. “My own husband didn’t want me.”
Before she could blink, he’d imprisoned her against the wall with his arms bracketing her. His eyes blazed down at her. “Don’t you ever compare me to him again.”
Fliss’s hard swallow echoed in her ears. More than just grumpy, he was seriously pissed off now. But she needed to know. “Then why don’t you want to kiss me? Is it me?”
His expression softened. “Of course it’s not you. Do I have to remind you that the tabloids would have a field day if they found out you and I got involved? Remember what they put you through over the past two years. The innuendoes. The outright lies. Do you want to go through that again?”
“I don’t care about the tabloids. I do care about how you feel.” She held her breath. How would he respond? Would he tell her she’d misunderstood his feelings for her? Tell her the vibe she felt crackling between them was one-sided?
> She slowly released the air from her lungs. No, he wouldn’t.
He wanted her. His mouth might not confirm it, but everything else about him did. He practically vibrated with the effort to hold it in. His eyes—the way they ate her up, the unabashed desire pooling in them. The tension in his arms and hands, like he was struggling not to reach for her. The muscle ticking in his whisker-covered jaw. He could use a shave. The errant thought brought a smile to her lips. Slowly but surely, he returned the gesture. Her heart sped up in cautious optimism.
Haltingly, she reached up and caressed the hard line of his jaw, the prickly hair tickling her palm. Alex didn’t stop her, instead closing his eyes and turning into her touch. She shivered at how right the contact felt.
Until he grabbed her hand and drew it away from him.
Fliss’s lungs seized in panic. Maybe she’d misread him. Was he going to reject her after all?
A hot, open-mouth kiss to her palm calmed her fears and sent arousal racing through her veins. Still not daring to move too fast in case it was all a dream, she reached up with her free hand and pulled his head down to her waiting lips.
So right. So soft.
The softness lasted only a second. His masterful lips demanded entry. She willingly complied. As their tongues tangled in an intimate dance, her craving for him turned into a physical ache. An ache only he could ease. She crowded closer, wanting, needing to feel his hard body against hers. The kiss turned wilder. Harder. Stronger. He took everything he wanted, but so did she. How could she not? He tasted like sin she wanted to indulge in in the worst way.
Eventually, he gentled the embrace and eased away. “I can’t get enough of you.” The confession sounded ripped from his gut.
She gasped as he slipped one hand underneath her shirt hem and met her eager flesh. He flexed his fingers against her stomach, then held them there as though he needed to prove to himself that she was real. He stared at her, desire written all over his face. Then his hands went to work, quickly unbuttoning her shirt. “I want to see you.”
Fliss moaned when his large hands covered her breasts. Whimpered when he pinched her nipples, sending a dark dart of pleasure through her system. An arm wrapped around her waist and bent her back. At the first touch of his mouth on her flesh through her bra, she cried out.
