Her Hollywood Daddy

by Renee Rose

  “How’s that for a trailer?” Antonio asked when it ended, a satisfied smile stretched across his face.

  Marissa peeked at him, as if looking for his approval. For a moment, her needy innocence—her submission to his authority—took his breath away.

  He returned Antonio’s grin, squeezing Marissa’s knee. “It’s brilliant.”

  “That will sell movies,” Antonio said with full authority. “That was what this film was missing. You two brought it to life.” He slapped Joel on the shoulder. “Okay, now back to work. Actually, today I just film Marissa’s fight scene with Lee Rogers, so you can go home if you like.”

  “No, I’ll stay,” he said.

  Marissa lifted her eyes and beamed at him, once more stealing his breath. More and more, it seemed he would do anything for that grateful smile.

  He accompanied her to make up, knowing she had some issue with her artist. He stayed to watch and they readied her, then found a place near the cameras when they began to roll. The scene involved a fight up on a catwalk. He sat back to watch Marissa’s lithe form move through high kicks and dodges. No stunt double would be necessary for this scene—Marissa had the moves and she approached the scene with a ferocity that made her impossible not to watch.

  Antonio’s attitude had turned to pure glee, even with her, and he moved the filming around her, making love to her with the cameras. “Yes, that’s it!” he called out every so often as they repeated the sequence several times.

  On the last run, Marissa lost her footing, missing her choreographed dodge out of Rogers’ way. His kick caught her on the hip and sent her flying backward, into the light tree, which toppled onto her when she landed. She screamed as she fell and his heart flew into his throat. He charged onto the set to rescue her.

  *****

  Pain exploded in Marissa’s head and something hot burned her arm. The lights blinded her. Someone pulled them off and she blinked up, trying to focus on the sea of faces crowded around.

  “Get back. Give her some room.”

  She exhaled. Joel was there.

  “Hey, baby,” he said softly, kneeling beside her.

  “Joel,” she croaked.

  “Tell me what hurts, sweetheart.”

  “Ugh. I’m so embarrassed.” She looked around at all the people staring at her.

  “More space. Step back, out of the way.”

  “I’m calling 9-1-1,” someone said.

  “No,” she said, turning pleading eyes on Joel. “I’m okay.”

  “Just hold off on 9-1-1,” he said.

  Again, she exhaled. How did he always know exactly what she needed?

  “What hurts, baby?”

  She pushed herself to sit up and rubbed the back of her head.

  “Come here, let’s go in your dressing room and take stock and then we can decide what kind of help you need.”

  That sounded wonderful to her. She nodded and he helped her to her feet, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders and leading her to the dressing room. Her legs shook, but she didn’t feel that hurt, just embarrassed by all the attention.

  Joel shut the door to her dressing room and lifted her to sit on the counter. “Let’s take a look at you, baby girl. Let me see your head.”

  She turned and he gently palpated the back of her head.

  “Yep, you have a goose egg there. What else?”

  She twisted her arm to look for the burning sensation. A red mark had already raised. “I think one of the lights must have burned me.”

  He inspected it, then kissed the skin below it. “A little aloe vera would come in handy right now. Anything else?”

  She shook her head and smiled wryly. “I think I’m fine. Just embarrassed. Thank you for rescuing me from the ambulances.”

  He chuckled. “All right, I’m going to get you some ice. Do you want to see a doctor?”

  “No. Definitely not,” she said.

  “Do you want to wait here alone, or should I find you company?”

  “Alone. Thanks.”

  He went to the door and opened it. Becky, her make up artist stood outside, her knuckles raised as if she were about to knock.

  “Oh! Uh, sorry. I just wondered if I could get her anything?”

  “Yes. Ice and aloe vera, if you can find any.”

  “Sure thing,” Becky said. “I know exactly where to find some. I’ll be right back.”

  Joel shut the door and turned back to her. “Looks like you get to wait with me.”

  She tried to steel herself against his devastating smile. There was a reason this man had won the heart of almost every woman in America—he had the rugged good looks to make females swoon. And he was as manly as the roles he played, not like the pretty-boy actors who cried over hangnails.

  That morning when Hollywood Gossip had reported about the two of them, it brought back all the gossip about her and Billy. How many more weeks until the reports were about her breakup with Joel? Or about Joel’s new girlfriend? She couldn’t handle it. Not again. Not with him. Joel was different. What she had with him was different. She could be herself, she could be less than herself—her most vulnerable, child-like self, and he still treated her like the most special girl in the world. How could she live knowing he was giving that to someone else? The thought literally made her cry. And of course he had noticed, because he always seemed in tune with her.

  He sauntered over and stood between her knees, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “How do you feel now?”

  She smiled up at him. “Fine. I’m so glad you were here today. Thank you for staying to watch me.”

  He lifted her chin. “Of course I stayed to watch you,” he said, a fond smile curling his lips.

  A tap at the door sounded and Becky came in with an ice pack and the stem of an aloe plant. She bustled over and split the aloe leaf, applying it to the back of her arm. Marissa held the icepack to her head.

  “I’m going to let Antonio know you’re all right. Do you think you can return to filming today or do you want to go home?”

  “No, I’m okay to keep filming.”

  He gave her a wink. “That’s my girl,” he said and left.

  She bit her lip, wondering if that sounded odd to Becky.

  “Um, Ms. Sparks, I wanted to apologize for offending you the other day,” the makeup artist said. “I realized it sounded really bad, but I promise I didn’t mean it that way. I’m a huge fan of your work. I mean, you’re the reason I was so excited to get this gig. And…” She stopped and picked a thread off Marissa’s costume. “I was just worried about you. And the way things were going. But I shouldn’t have said anything and I know it sounded critical—”

  “It’s okay,” Marissa cut in. “Thank you.”

  *****

  “Marissa,” Joel said, kissing down the back of her neck. “Do we need to get you a gown to wear for the opening of Cerebral, my picture that’s releasing this week?”

  She twisted around to peer at him with her wide blue eyes. “Do—am I going? You want me to go? I mean, with you?”

  He lowered one brow. “Yes, little girl.” He turned her to see her face. “Do you not want to go?”

  “No, I do…” she had blushed and appeared flustered. “Aren’t you taking your ex-wife?”

  “What? No. Did she say that? Absolutely not. I thought we were clear about her being out of my life.”

  Marissa bounced on her heels an impish smile appearing on her face. “So we’re going shopping?”

  He smiled indulgently. “Yes, my dear. Go grab a sweater.”

  She lifted up on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek, her Little coming out. “I’ll be right back,” she said, skipping off the bedroom.

  On the drive to see her stylist, Marissa’s phone buzzed. “It’s Bev,” she said. “Is it passive aggressive if I don’t answer?”

  “Yes.”

  She hit answer. “Hey Bev.”

  He heard her sister’s voice speaking. Marissa sighed. “Well, I don’t know. I can
ask.” She lowered the phone and looked at him. “Bev and my mom would like to come to your opening.”

  “Of course, no problem. I’ll put their names on the guest lists.”

  “You don’t have to,” she whispered.

  “It’s my pleasure, Marissa,” he said firmly.

  She sighed and put the phone back to her ear. “Yes, he said he’ll put your names on the guest list....No. Just the two of you. Well, I don’t know, but I’m not going to ask—”

  “They may each bring a guest.”

  She frowned at him. “Okay, he said you can each bring a guest,” she said grudgingly. “All right, I’ll see you there. Love you, too.” She hung up and slumped back in her seat.

  “What’s with the attitude, Roo?”

  Her eyes lifted at the endearment. “They’re just such mooches. It’s embarrassing.”

  “They’re your family and I’m happy to have them.”

  “Don’t you think they’re mooches?”

  He hesitated, not wanting to wade into dangerous waters. “I know you want me to side with you where your family comes in, but I really think it’s best if I remain a neutral party. That way I can be a sounding board for you when you’re making decisions.”

  She leaned across the center console to lay her head on his shoulder. “I like you,” she said with a sigh.

  “I like you too, sweet girl,” he said. After a moment of silence, he asked, “So did my ex say she was going with me?”

  “Yeah,” Marissa said.

  He squeezed her hand. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

  She shot him a naughty grin. “Does this mean I get spanked again?”

  “Would you like that?”

  A blush colored her cheeks and she chewed the inside of her cheek. “No,” she said at last, and he realized he’d been holding his breath.

  “Too bad you’re not in charge,” he teased, touching her cheek before turning his eyes back to the road. “And just so you’re prepared, I get to pick your dress today.”

  She sat back in her seat, beaming, her eyes on him. This couldn’t all be an act. She had real feelings for him, he knew she did. But did she know that? He wished he knew how to broach the subject.

  Chapter Nine

  Marissa straightened her dress and drew a long breath as the doorman held the door open for her.

  “You look beautiful,” Joel said as he joined her, a light scolding in his tone.

  “So do you—I mean,” she broke off with a giggle.

  He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let any sharks eat you,” he said, the same words he’d spoken before their meeting with studio execs. And he’d delivered on his promise then.

  “Who will you let eat me?” she teased, darting forward, out of his grasp and into the lobby of The Standard, where the opening night fete was being held.

  He lunged, chasing, and caught her about the waist, lifting her off her feet.

  She squealed and giggled, kicking, not caring if they drew attention.

  The flash of bulbs confirmed they had.

  He set her down, tickling under her arms. “Only I get to eat you,” he growled in a low voice in her ear.

  She turned in his arms and beamed up at him. “Goodie,” she murmured.

  “Come on,” he said, looping an arm around her waist and leading her to the banquet hall.

  She stiffened when the first people she saw were Bev and Billy, nestled against each other like love-sick teenagers, but Joel squeezed her and she suddenly didn’t care. If her sister wanted to date the biggest man-whore in Los Angeles, who was she to complain? She certainly didn’t want him anymore.

  She saw her mother standing by the bar and gave a little wave. Her mother waved back enthusiastically, making a beeline for them.

  “Joel, thank you so much for leaving our names at the door, we wouldn’t want to miss your big premiere.”

  “My pleasure,” he said.

  “Joel, there you are,” Tim Steiner, the producer of the movie said. “Come here, I want to introduce you to someone.”

  Joel glanced at her apologetically.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  He patted her hip and excused himself.

  “Listen, Marissa,” her mother said in the tone that made her brace herself for bad news. “I don’t know what your plans are with Joel, but I think we should put the mansion on the market. Cash flow is getting a little sticky.”

  Oddly, she didn’t even feel like rolling her eyes at the understatement. “I know, Mom.”

  “I’ve put some of my handbags on ebay, and I’ve already sold twelve, so that should cover the month’s mortgage.”

  Marissa’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re selling your handbags? Wow.”

  Her mother’s shoulders sagged. “I know I haven’t been the best manager. Especially where money is concerned. Maybe—” her mom broke off and stared out at the guests. “Maybe it’s time for you to find a more professional manager.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “No way,” she said, a lump in her throat. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  Her mother gave her a watery smile. “I know Julie’s been advising it for years now. And I’ve been thinking about moving back to Atlanta.”

  “You have?” she asked, her jaw dropping.

  “Yes, I’ve been corresponding with an old boyfriend and...well, I’m just ready for a change. And it seems like you are, too.”

  “What about Bev?” she asked.

  Her mother lifted one shoulder. “She says she’s moving in with Billy. We both know that’s a mistake, but she’ll have to figure it out for herself, I guess.”

  Funny, hearing Bev was moving in with Billy didn’t hurt at all. Not one bit. If anything, she felt like giggling.

  “Mama, I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around her mother’s still-elegant neck.

  Her mother kissed her. “I’m so proud of you, Marissa Jean. You have worked so hard and accomplished so much.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I always knew you’d be a star, but even I am dazzled by you.”

  She hugged her mother again. “Stop. I’m not wearing waterproof mascara,” she scolded.

  “I know, me neither,” her mother said. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

  She circulated through the room with her mom, not once feeling ashamed of her as she stopped along the way to talk to actors or agents she knew. After she found a drink and left her mother with Bev, she found Joel giving a brief, on camera interview.

  “So you and Marissa Sparks…”

  “Yes,” he answered, confirming their relationship.

  Her heart picked up speed.

  “She’s been known as Hollywood’s wild child this fall, but rumors say you tamed her. Did she just need a mature man?”

  Joel caught sight of her and winked. “Maybe I just needed someone youthful.”

  “How serious are the two of you?”

  “Well, It’s still pretty new. Right now we just need to get through the filming of Canyon del Oro, the movie we’re starring in together.”

  It was a perfectly reasonable answer. Why, then, did a knot twist in her stomach to hear it? Was it because the public at large always knew more about her personal relationships than she did? No, it was more than that. His comment was just a painful reminder that they didn’t have a relationship at all—they had a verbal contract that extended through the filming of this movie. And when that ended, would her contract be renewed? Or would she be handed her humiliation on a platter?

  Tears burned her eyes. How could she even begin to enter the dating world again after she’d given her whole self—her dignity, her body, her vulnerability—everything to this man?

  She walked away, heading outside to the patio for fresh air.

  “Hey.” Joel wrapped his warm arms around her from behind.

  She stiffened.

  He stilled. “Hey,” he said again. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, I’m just getting tired. Wo
uld you mind if I got a cab home? I know you need to stay and circulate.”

  Joel turned her around to see her face. “What is it?” he asked.

  She shook her head “Nothing. I just want to go home, that’s all.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, studying her face. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  She nodded mutely, her heart sinking. She would have preferred to be alone with her insecurities, so she could get them under control. For all her acting abilities, it seemed with Joel, she was an open book. Always bared to him.

  She stayed outside, taking deep breaths, and telling herself she would be all right without him.

  *****

  “So what happened?” Joel asked his silent date on the ride home.

  “Nothing. I told you that,” she said.

  “You’re lying.”

  She said nothing.

  He hated moments like these, where he wasn’t sure whether to push in dom mode as Daddy, or back off and just be Joel. He opted for pushing. “Do you remember what happened the last time you put walls up when you were upset?”

  That wrung a small smile from her—a good sign, but she still didn’t speak.

  He parked in the garage and met her as she attempted to bolt inside without waiting. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Joel, I’m really tired.”

  Her use of his name struck hard, but he persisted. He picked up her hand and with the most gentle of touches, bent it behind her back, holding it there as he guided her forward, toward his office. “I’m sorry, love, but we need to talk. You have one more chance to tell me what’s going on or I will help you talk.”

  Her cheeks colored, but she clamped her teeth together in a stubborn refusal.

  He opened the door to his study. “Bend over my desk.”

  She took two steps toward the desk, then stopped, turning back. Not an outright refusal, but it seemed she needed more help.

  He picked up her hand again, returning it to her low back and propelled her forward until she reached his desk. He pushed her torso down and delivered a flurry of sharp spanks over her dress. “Reach your hands straight out in front of you to grab the other side of my desk.” He held his breath, still not sure whether she would comply.