Maddy breathed in Blue’s cologne, saw a small spot on his jaw that looked as if he’d nicked himself shaving, almost anticipated his lips closing on her own.
She placed both hands on Blue’s solid chest and shoved. “For the love of God, back off!” It was either that or call his bluff and kiss him – disastrous for a first day of filming.
What was she thinking? It’d be disastrous any day.
She shook her head, trying to shake off the power he seemed to have over her senses. “No one is ever straight with their answers about themselves.”
“You are.” Blue held his ground. “Amber is.” Now that she was looking at his face, not his lips, Maddy recognized the worried slant to his brow.
Her hands were still on Blue’s chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. She convinced her fingers to release him and then held out her elbow to check her watch, hoping he’d ease off as she reassured him. “Don’t panic. We have a few minutes. Why don’t you tell me what kind of man I’m looking for?”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a put-your-damn-money-where-your-damn-mouth-is look.
“Okay. Fine.” His gaze stroked down her body leisurely, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. And then his gaze inched back up to her now flaming cheeks. “You aren’t in the market for a man. If you were, you’d take more time with your appearance. You straighten your hair and put on make-up, with some skill.” Blue took Maddy’s chin in his hand, his fingers strong, commanding, magnetic. Just that simple touch and she was drawn to his body, had to resist plastering herself against him and begging him to have his reputedly wicked way with her. “Although you don’t care much for make-up.”
Maddy bumped into the door as she swatted his hand away. “You don’t know that.” But it was true.
He ignored her. “Jeans, low heeled sandals and a Flash T-shirt indicate you’re comfortable where you are in life. And you’re not intimidated by the high-end fashion in the lobby.” Each pronouncement shed a bit more of his worry, until he looked more like the assured Blue Rule she was getting used to squabbling with. “You’ve got this career thing going on that probably takes up a lot of your time. That takes priority over dating.”
“You got that right, at least.” Maddy crossed her arms again, afraid his assessment would only strike at more sensitive spots.
“But you’ve been burned by someone, perhaps recently. Or maybe you’ve never been with anyone who cared about pleasing you in bed. Beyond the one gratuitous orgasm, that is.” He grinned and it was like molasses dripped in her veins. Sweetly enticing. Meltingly warm. Lingeringly lethargic.
He’d hit the target all right. Maddy’s muscles gave in to the languid desire his body inspired. She sank against the door.
“Or you might not like sex.” He might just as well have added, “But feel free to prove me wrong.” Such was the smile she read on his face.
Maddy’s hands clenched into fists. Other muscles stirred. Strengthened. Replaced the haze of desire with anger.
Blue Rule was the kind of man she avoided because he got what he wanted regardless of what she wanted. She slid her hands into her back pockets to keep from punching him in the nose. Not that she’d ever hit anyone. She hadn’t felt the urge since she was seven and Penelope Whitman had stolen her Polly Pocket doll during recess.
“From my perspective,” Blue continued, leaning in even closer as if trying to decide where to kiss her first. His breath brushed her cheek as softly as a lover’s caress.
Despite her anger, air escaped Maddy’s lungs in anticipation of what he’d do next. Of what she’d let him do before she gave in and slugged him on the arm. They were, after all, filming him today, too. She couldn’t pop him in the nose and mess with perfection.
“You’re smart, Maddy, but you talk too much and aren’t much for give and take, so all in all, you’re not my type. I like my women enthusiastic and easy going about sex.” He blinked. Pulled back an inch. Swore. “I’m sorry. That was over the line.” And then his gaze fell to hers again.
The part about not being his type stung. She had no interest in Blue. Sure, he was hot, but he was also an egotistical S.O.B. An amazingly sexy, egotistical son-of-a-bitch, whose assessments would drive women crazy. No wonder Kaya couldn’t let him go unpunished.
A cell phone chimed out in the lobby.
Mr. Jiggles sneezed.
And they stood lover-distance apart, frozen, as if Blue was waiting for Maddy to fall into his trap, to fail his test.
Because that’s what this was – a trap! There was no way a man like Blue would be desperate enough to want to kiss a regular woman like her. He wanted to see if Maddy was just like all the other women he’d seduced. Easy. Pliant to his sexual demands.
She had less than three weeks to get Poppa Bert’s photo albums out of hock. She had no time for Blue’s games.
Maddy discounted the curious voice in the back of her head that wanted to learn more about Blue’s demands. She laughed and shoved him back. “That was quite a parlor trick. You must be a hit at parties.”
He stepped away this time, frowning as if he hadn’t expected her to catch on when he should have been wiping his brow with relief that she hadn’t taken him seriously.
Right here. Behind a door that didn’t lock.
Maddy glanced at her watch again. “I was going to check on our women, but we’re out of time so I need to mic you up.” She retrieved one of the wireless microphones from the desk and turned to Blue.
“Not a chance.” He sat in the chair behind the desk as if needing a barrier between them.
“I only have one camera here today, but we’ve got to get your assessments on film after each candidate comes in. It’s a waste of time to re-mic you every time.”
“Do I really need to comment on every woman that we interview?” He looked pained.
“Yes. For once, can you just do what I say without putting up a fuss?” Maddy didn’t want any of those women to leave because they were late starting. She reached for his shirt collar, but he pulled back.
“Given the number of my exes out there, I could spend all morning in commentary.”
He was right. And a few more women were coming in after lunch. “How about we compromise? If the camera loves someone and I feel she’s a strong candidate for the show, we tape your analysis.” Maddy reached for him once more.
He leaned away. “What if I don’t want her on the show?”
It was long past time to bring out Auntie Maddy again. She patted his arm. “This is where I remind you that I’m in charge and have the right to make final decisions. As the show’s producer, I have your best interest at heart.”
“With these women, I have to be in charge now. Because I don’t…I won’t…” His lips pressed together. He looked like Maddy had somehow bamboozled him into saying more than he planned.
“Well, if that means you were always on top…” Maddy snagged his collar and clipped on the mic. “I’m glad we’re incompatible.”
“I said in charge.” Blue tried to catch Maddy’s gaze, but she retreated to the door. “Not on top.”
A thrill of anticipation shuddered down her spine as images of wild sex scampered through her mental viewfinder. “Maybe that’s why you’ve failed these women. Maybe you should have relinquished control.”
“I did. And that’s where I went wrong.”
“My name is Portia Francis and I’m twenty-five years old. I met Blue once when I was a teenager, but met him again in the spring. He was promoting my latest film, Hearts to the Left, and we hit it off right away.” Portia was polished in front of the camera, like a movie star of old.
Maddy made a note on her pad. Rehearsed. “What did you like about being with Blue?” Did he get under her skin until she couldn’t decide whether to kiss him or put him out with Sunday night’s trash?
This was their third interview. The first two women had been invited by Blue and were clearly not right for
the show. Other than not being Avengers, the women and Blue had remained friends. She’d wanted to kick Blue in the shins for suggesting they come. He had to know reality TV was about conflict, larger than life characters, and loud emotions.
“Blue always seemed to know what I was thinking,” Portia continued. “Food. The need to get away. When I was…in the mood. What kind of mood I was in.” Whether consciously or unconsciously, Portia’s chest seemed to push upward.
Boobs, Maddy wrote. Not afraid to use them.
“He inspired me to do better work. When I was with him I felt like I could tackle any role, take on any challenge. It was exhilarating. After a few weeks, I told him I loved him.”
Blue fidgeted behind the desk.
The L word makes him run, Maddy scribbled.
“What do you think led to the break-up?” Maddy asked, trying to stay focused. It was hard considering Blue was still alive and breathing behind her.
“His dog. Blue took him after his dad died and he refused to go anywhere without him.”
“So it was embarrassing? A man with a little poodle?” Maddy thought it showed Blue was comfortable in his own skin.
“No.” Portia patted a coiled lock of blond hair. “That dog is an animal.”
Not so bright. Maddy’s jotted down. Is she worth the name recognition? There didn’t seem to be much depth to the actress.
“I mean, Mr. Jello has no manners. He growled at me, gnawed on my shoes. There was this pair of Manolo Blahniks that I’d barely gotten out of the box and that dog demolished them.” Portia cast a reproachful gaze at Blue, her eyes brimming with unshed tears Maddy didn’t believe were sincere. “Blue apologized, but he wouldn’t get rid of that damn dog. Can you believe it? He chose a dog over me.”
Maddy had to return Blue some of the loyalty points she’d taken away when he’d agreed to make a documentary with Dave. She’d choose the dog, too. “Why did you join the Playboy Avengers?”
“Well, we were promised that the club would go public in Phase Two. Personally, I haven’t liked the bold direction the Avengers have taken. After thinking it over, this reality show is better for me.”
So, Portia wasn’t out for revenge. She was out for the press. Perfect. “Would you be willing to accept Blue’s matchmaking advice?”
Portia stared at the toe of her blood red pumps. “As long as this isn’t some kind of promotional game he’s cooked up. I won’t be part of something that isn’t real. My fans deserve better than that.”
Maddy would have thought Portia deserved better than that, but perhaps that was how celebrities thought of themselves, as a product out to satisfy their customers. She thanked Portia, put the camera on pause, took off Portia’s portable mic and waited until she’d left to turn to Blue. “She’s an interesting contradiction of polish and heart. She might be worth the risk. How about you jump across that desk and give us a summary?”
“This is only for your purposes, right? I don’t want Portia to see any of this.”
“Worried you’ll hurt her feelings? Again?” Maddy gestured to Blue to hurry it along. “Of course, this will be part of the show. Good television is about exposing the truth. Get over there and give me some.”
Blue sighed and huffed and set his pink poodle on the chair. She hadn’t noticed he’d put Mr. Jiggles in his lap. It was a nice gesture, whether he’d done it to protect Portia’s shoes or to ensure his dog’s safety.
Maddy turned Blue’s mic on, then sat back down and cued him to start. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Blue didn’t say a word. He stared at his hands. He clenched his jaw. He fidgeted like a kid serving time-out in a corner.
“And…go,” Maddy added a bit of snap to her tone, tapping her watch in case he didn’t understand.
“Portia is a beautiful woman. I remember having a crush on her as a teenager when she starred in that Disney show, Princess in the Suburbs.” Blue stared over Maddy’s shoulder. “There’s something down-to-earth about her that Hollywood has yet to crush. But she’s too deep in her own shell to risk the next level of success. The kind of guy that’s best for her at this stage of her life is someone with a non-Hollywood, flexible career, perhaps someone who works at home and can work anywhere, so he can fly out to be with her when she needs him. Someone who’s willing to stand a step behind her on the red carpet and worship at her altar to help her build confidence in herself.”
And that wasn’t Blue. He wouldn’t worship any woman. But he was insightful. The camera ate him right up, giving Maddy a boost of energy-twitching excitement about the project. “Life is very much about taking risks. I’m going to have to start calling you Dr. Blue.”
Blue deflated, his shoulders slumping like a balloon that had been in a hot car too long. “Let’s get on with it.”
It wasn’t even lunchtime and Blue was drained. “How many more?”
The interviews with his exes were a best forgotten trip down memory lane. But it was the confessions Maddy taped that made him most uncomfortable. The women he’d dated were smart, caring, deserving of someone to love them. They’d be hurt to hear his summary. What purpose did it serve other than to make him look like an egotistical bastard?
He wasn’t. He enjoyed female companionship – at dinner, on the ski slopes, watching a ball game, in bed. While he was with a woman, he listened. He was supportive. He planned fun activities. They had sex. Where was the harm in that? Why did enjoying a woman’s company mean he had to marry her?
Did his comfort as a bachelor make him a liability on the dating scene? It must, because Maddy had rejected him this morning.
Rejected. Him.
Why?
He’d been sitting behind her while she filmed, trying to figure it out. If he knew her better, maybe he’d understand her rejection. He wanted to know why she wanted to tell stories on film. Why reality TV instead of scripted television? He held her pawn shop ticket, wondering why she’d hocked her equipment. Wondering why some guy hadn’t already married her.
But he wasn’t the Avengers’ playboy for nothing. Maddy, with her bossy attitude, flowery shampoo, and sturdy curves, looked good to him. He’d been thinking about taking her from behind, taking her against the door, just flat out taking her somewhere and sinking into her softness. Again and again. Until they were both exhausted, until the idea of her wouldn’t surprise him at odd moments, wouldn’t make him hard while he was in the shower or brushing his teeth.
He barely knew her. And yet, he knew he could show her what her other lovers hadn’t – mind-blowing generosity in bed. Or wherever she allowed him to take her, even if it was just for a walk along the Santa Monica promenade to listen to her problems.
The chaste thought brought him up short.
Was he lonely? Or was Maddy a rare, intriguing breed of woman in his jungle? Maybe he just needed a distraction, because out in the lobby he’d been struck by the oddest suspicion – that his sister was too friendly with one of the Avengers, that she’d been the one to feed them information about his schedule. He didn’t want it to be Cora, but he couldn’t overlook the possibility either.
“There’s only one more before we break for lunch.” Maddy adjusted the blinds on the window, checking how the light hit the chair where her victims sat. “Oh, and you’re buying me lunch.”
“Meatball sub?”
“How did you know?” She blinked at him and then frowned. “Oh, never mind.”
Blue suppressed a smile. A woman like Maddy wasn’t going for salad (too light) or burgers (too plain). A woman like Maddy held her own with a man. That meant she wanted a man’s sandwich.
Maddy ushered in Jenny Quick, whose father was a special effects guru. She was one of the Lucky Sperm Club. She’d never have to work a day in her life unless her father made her. Blue used to be in her shoes. And then his father died and left all these damn hoops he needed to jump through.
“So tell me a little about yourself and how you met Blue.” Maddy treated each girl as if she were the fi
rst they’d seen that day, with a smile and a tilt to her head as if what they had to say was immensely interesting and there wasn’t a six foot tall, two hundred pound elephant in the room.
“I’m Jenny Quick and I met Blue at the Sky Bar earlier this year.” Her foot bounced and her fingers twined and untwined around the strap of her zebra-striped purse. “He came in with someone else, but he left with me.”
She’d dragged Blue outside that night so she could cry on his shoulder. Blue’s date had left in disgust.
“I was getting over a nasty break up. Blue was just what I needed.” Jenny licked her lips as she smiled invitingly at Blue. “He was comforting everywhere, even in bed. He’ll do whatever you ask, you know.” She glanced at Maddy, taking in her jeans and T-shirt. “Well, maybe you don’t know. When I was with him, it was like a power rush. Everything seemed to fall into place. I told him he was the one. You know, let’s go shopping for the dress, the ring, the bridal veil.”
Blue’s stomach clenched as if he’d been kicked. He’d never felt more for Jenny than passing interest.
Maddy flipped over a page on her notepad. “What caused the break up?”
“I think it was the sex.” Jenny licked her lips again and sank back into the chair with legs slightly parted as if offering an invitation to come and get her right there on camera. “I might not have been as adventurous as he liked. Since then I’ve been taking courses at Wicked Tantric. Senge says I’m a natural.”
Blue suppressed a groan. Senge would tell anyone who paid him whatever they wanted to hear. Blue glanced at Maddy’s yellow notepad.
Drama queen. Backstabber. Insecure about sex. She’d crossed out that last comment.
Blue may have prided himself on reading women, but Maddy was no slouch either.
“Why did you join the Playboy Avengers?”
“It seemed like a good way to recapture Blue’s attention. A man like Blue isn’t going to sit by and watch a bunch of women destroy his reputation. He’s going to confront you about it. Maybe get angry.” Her eyes darkened. She was turned on.
On the Edge Page 88
