“Friends?”
“With benefits.”
“Oh.” Her eyes glazed over a little when he tracked his hand down her face, her neck, and torso to bury his fingers in the place where she was always hot and needy for him. He entered her with two fingers, and she sagged against him when his thumb pulsed her clit.
Her voice caught on a sigh when she spoke. “We don’t need to go into the shower right now, do we?”
“No, we don’t. Not right now.”
He laughed softly against her mouth as he reached behind him to turn off the shower and led her back to the bed.
Chapter Eighteen
Mick was one of those crazy people who loved doing promotional work. He loved talking about his work. He loved meeting the fans and getting that immediate feedback. Making movies was a type of isolation project, and he craved the affirmation that people appreciated his hard work.
And being in London for the premiere of the latest Dark movie? Awesome.
He also loved London. It was one of his favorite cities, but he missed Piper. Thank God for texting and video-calling; they’d spoken several times a day, but it hadn’t been the same. Dinner out in New York had been a success—great photos on all the blogs and news shows—and they planned to do it again when he returned in two days.
They’d decided to let the press speculate all they wanted about their status. No confirmation or denial coming from either of their camps. He loved keeping the press guessing. It kept them both in the minds of the people who decide what should be on the minds of the movie-going public.
Besides missing Piper, what he also didn’t like about this trip was the presence of Tanya Roberts, his costar on this film, and her constant attempts to get in his pants. He’d patiently explained how it wasn’t going to happen between them, but she persisted in “trying to change his mind” as she called it. It had all come to a head earlier today in the greenroom of a TV station, when he’d lost his temper and told her to keep her hands off him. A furious Tanya had stalked off in a huff, and the interview had been all kinds of awkward.
Mick could see her now across the crowded room of the after-premiere party thrown by big investors in the movie. The guests were getting rowdy, fueled by the glamorous setting, the presence of celebrities, and the open bar. The bar that Tanya had been visiting way too often this evening for her too thin, bulimic body. Even from this distance, he saw her sway on her feet. The guy chatting her up seemed to be taking full advantage by groping her while he pretended to help keep her steady.
“Excuse me,” Mick said to the small group he was talking to and made his way across the room.
By the time he got to Tanya, the guy had his hand up her skirt, in full view of all the other guests and the press, and Tanya wasn’t in any shape to fend him off. Mick suppressed the urge to deck the guy as he approached and stood in front of them.
“Buddy, you want to get your hands off her?” Mick asked, leaning in close to make sure he was heard over the party noise.
“What’s it to you? You her boyfriend or something?” The guy sneered, his lips pulling back in almost a feral parody of a smile.
Technically, Mick had no dog in this fight. Tanya had never been his girlfriend, only the occasional partner in bed. But she was a colleague and a woman—an inebriated woman—who deserved more respect.
“She’s drunk, and you’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m going to let you take advantage of her.” He stood up to his full height and wedged into the man’s personal space. “Why don’t you crawl back into the sewer and leave her alone?”
The guy seemed to contemplate hitting him, but the determination in his eyes faltered when Mick butted in even closer, pressing chest to chest with the guy and forcing him to look up at him. Mick made sure his expression was deadly serious—thank you, John Dark—and the guy took it seriously and slinked off with a nasty backward glance and a rudely thrust middle finger.
“Tanya. You okay?” He placed his glass on the bar and took the one she had in her hand and set it down next to his. “I think you need to call it a night. Press is crawling all over this place.”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t, but I doubt you’ll want pictures of you getting felt up by some loser all over the tabloids tomorrow.” He guided her toward the door, nodding his greeting to everyone who waved at them while he scanned the crowd for her assistant. The little blonde was usually up Tanya’s ass all the time, but now she was nowhere in sight. Figures. “I think you need to take a break.”
“I don’t want a break.” The pout in her voice was almost cute but completely wasted on him. Her helpless female routine and her D-cup breasts kept men drooling over her, but it had only ever pissed him off. He liked her better when she was acting her part of capable, smart sidekick in the Dark movies.
“Do you have a key to your room, Tanya?”
She sagged against him when he had to shift her to one arm in order to reach the elevator button. He waited for the doors to open, then manhandled her into the car. The doors closed behind them, and he hit the button for their floor. Her room was a few doors down from his. “Tanya? You have your key?”
“Yeah.” She leaned on him, her arms around his neck, and he suppressed the urge to push her away. He didn’t like this one bit, didn’t like the fact another woman was hanging all over him when he’d promised Piper to avoid this very situation. He’d pour Tanya into her room and get back to the party for the next couple of hours.
“Where is your key?” he asked, hoping he didn’t have to take her to his room to wait for a porter to come up and unlock her room. No. He would prop her next to her door on the hallway floor before her let her in his room. That he didn’t want to ever explain to Piper.
“It’s in my bag.” She waved the little purse in front of his face.
He dug around until he found the card slipped into an outside pocket. Palming it, he waited out the exceedingly slow rise to their almost-penthouse rooms.
The elevator finally stopped on their floor, and the doors opened to an empty hallway. No reporters or other guests were around to witness this little scenario. Thank God.
“Come on, Tanya. We’ll get you to your room, and you can sleep it off.” He hefted her closer, arms around her waist as she continued to snuggle against him. He stepped up his pace, suddenly anxious to get this episode over.
Her door came up quickly, and he juggled Tanya, who was now starting to revive herself, and the key. The door swung open, and he guided her inside, flipping on the lights in the suite. She had the same room he did, a good-sized sitting room with a seating area, minibar area, and a separate bedroom with an en suite bath.
He dumped Tanya on the sofa. She glared up at him, her irritation almost comical on a face surrounded by an elaborate hairstyle and glamorous makeup.
“I wouldn’t drink any more tonight.” He backed up, anxious to get out of here as soon as he could. “I’ll see you in LA.”
“Why don’t you return my calls anymore?” Tanya asked, her voice blurred by liquor and genuine confusion.
“Tanya…” Mick groaned at the turn in the conversation. He didn’t want to have this conversation with her—ever. He was never good at this. He didn’t have to be, since everyone knew the rules and played nice when they weren’t on his speed dial any longer. This was hard.
“No, Mick.” She rose from the couch, only a little unsteady since the anger blazing in her eyes appeared to sober her up better than any coffee. “We were good together. We were amazing. And then you stopped calling…because of that fat girl with the glasses.”
“She isn’t fat.” Mick reined in his temper, taking a deep breath and remembering not to fall for the bait. Tanya was a drama queen, and he’d be in the middle of a scene if he didn’t watch it.
“You act like you love her or something.” Her lips twisted in an ugly smile, more feral and yet honest than any he’d seen her give before. “But when you get tired of her, you’ll come
back for this.”
In two steps, Tanya was within arm’s length of him. With a quick twist of her wrist at the shoulder straps on her dress, it fell to the ground, and she was naked. No panties. No bra. Just the tight body that would have excited him two months ago but now did nothing.
“Shit, Tanya. What the hell are you doing?” He bent over to retrieve the dress to cover her up, but he was stopped when she launched herself into his arms and latched her mouth on to his in a wet, sloppy kiss.
The forward momentum of her body threw them both back against the wall, and he stumbled, almost losing his footing. With the leverage of the solid wall behind him, he was able to reach up behind his neck, grab her hands, and pull them down. Tanya grunted in frustration when he pushed her away. He quickly scooped her dress off the floor, then shoved it at her. His hands shook a little with adrenaline and anger, his mind skittering from one thought to the next as he tried to process what the hell just happened.
Tanya was pale, her lips quivering with the tears just poised on the edges of her eyes. If she thought he was going to stick around to be a shoulder for her to cry on, she was crazy. His Good Samaritan shift was over.
“Tanya, I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but don’t ever touch me again.” Mick covered the distance to the door, wrenched it open, and slammed it behind him. The violence of the action partially assuaged his need to hit something as he turned in the opposite direction from the elevator and headed to his room. He dug out his keycard and entered the sanctuary of his personal space.
Turning on the lights, he dug in the pocket of his jacket, found his phone, and pulled up his itinerary. With a couple of quick calls to the airline and the front desk, he’d changed his flight to catch an earlier one, bound for New York.
…
The flight was uneventful, and Mick had even grabbed a few hours sleep, which went a long way toward erasing his discomfort over the thing with Tanya. At La Guardia, he disembarked the plane, thanking the pilots and crew, and headed to the terminal for private planes to find the car he’d hired to take him to Piper’s apartment.
At the counter, he greeted the concierge, a pretty young woman he recognized from prior travels, but instead of giving him her usual confident smile, she frowned and stammered as she checked the paperwork on her desk.
“I’ll…umm…check on your car for you, Mr. Blackwell,” she mumbled, then stepped away, leaving him alone.
Mick watched her retreat, leaning on the counter to wait for her return. He was tired and jet-lagged, and he couldn’t wait to get to Piper’s and crash in her big, luxurious bed.
The television overhead transitioned from a commercial to the news program on a local channel. The anchor rambled on about some festival in Brooklyn and then handed over the screen time to the entertainment reporter, a woman Mick recognized from a prior interview. She was smiling, her wide smile filled with ultrawhite teeth, but her grin sobered when she began her main story. He started to turn away when a photograph of him with Piper filled the screen and then was dramatically wrenched apart—the space filling with a picture of Tanya.
“What the hell?” Mick leaned over the counter to snag the remote control to turn up the volume.
The television screen was filled with photographs of him bringing Tanya into her room and the events that followed. From the shots, it was hard to tell if he was holding her close or pushing her away when she dropped her dress and launched herself at him, but the headline flashing across the screen told him exactly how the press was playing it.
Mick Blackwell and Tanya Roberts. What happens in London doesn’t stay in London.
Chapter Nineteen
She was going to throw up.
Piper’s hand shook and her vision went blurry as she dropped the papers in her hand onto the kitchen table. Little had she known when she’d accepted the courier delivery from a national newspaper that the packet would contain information that would rock her happy world. She tried to forget the grainy photographs spilling out from the envelope as she sank down into the nearest chair, struggling to find focus. Hell, she prayed to just stay conscious. This was really bad.
The photos were awful. Pictures of Mick kissing a naked woman…Tanya Roberts, the actress…in a hotel room. The photos were grainy but clear enough to see it all. And the article was so ugly. It said Mick had been with this woman in London, continuing the affair begun on the set of the last Dark movie. According to a quote from Tanya, they’d never stopped seeing each other, and his current relationship with Piper had done nothing to cool it down. One of the headlines screamed, “Mick back to his old tricks with a woman on each coast,” and the article implied she and Tanya had worked out a schedule to share him.
What made her dizzy with shock were the two paragraphs detailing how the photographer had gained access to Mick’s Hawaiian place and taken the pictures of them making love on the beach. It discussed the stuff she already knew about the housekeeper’s son stealing the code in exchange for twenty thousand dollars and the subsequent sales of the photos to the magazine.
But the last two lines were the ones that hurt: the money had been traced back to Mick’s account, and the thief was now reporting Mick had been the one to arrange for the photographs. And according to a reputable source, Mick had arranged the exclusive sale of the photographs to the tabloid.
All this was supported by alleged texts and e-mails from Mick to Jung Kim, the thief, and a top executive at the tabloid.
It couldn’t be true.
Chris grabbed the papers from her, skimming over them with frantic eyes. He sank down beside her at the table and grabbed her hand. “Piper, this is going to be okay.”
She wrenched her hand away and stood, frantically pacing across the floor. “No. It’s not going to be okay. This”—she gestured to the papers—“this is terrible. Who would do this? This is so ugly. Why can’t they just leave us alone?”
She sank down on the chair again and put her face in her hands, thinking of what Mick would say when he heard about this. She checked her watch, noting the time and calculating the difference with London. “I need to talk to Mick, but his plane just took off in London. Damn it.”
The buzzer from the front desk rang, and Chris walked over to answer it. He listened and turned back to Piper with a look of surprise. “Speak of the devil. Loverboy is at your door.”
“Let him in.”
Without arguing, Chris swung the door open.
Mick stepped through the doorway and tossed his bags to the floor. “Piper, I’m sorry,” he said.
On automatic pilot, Piper stood up and walked over to him on unsteady legs—her heart seeking its favorite source of comfort. He took one look at her face, frowned, and pulled her close against his chest. Hold me, Mick. Just hold me and make everything better. She buried her face against him and let his strength wash over her.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Mick crooned against her hair as he rubbed her back. “I take it you saw the report.”
Piper pulled back from his embrace, took a steadying breath, then reached out and grabbed the sheaf of papers. She shoved them into his hands. “Yes, I know. These were sent over. The paper wanted to give me a chance to comment. Of course we’ll deny the whole thing. I think we need to fight it this time and maybe take legal action.” Her frustration rose in her chest, restricting her breathing. “They can’t just print a bunch of lies and expect to get away with it. I’m just getting so sick of this.”
Mick let out a breath in a big whoosh as he lowered the papers and placed them on the table. Rubbing his jaw with a large, callused hand, he turned and looked out the big bank of windows that faced the street, a nerve twitching in his left temple. He wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t clear on if he was angry at her.
His voice was gravelly when he spoke. “Piper. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He turned and stared right into her eyes. “Don’t you?”
Piper barely understood him. It sounded like he’d been
involved in this messbut that couldn’t be right. No. No. No. Not you. “What are you saying? Mick?” Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Chris stepped between them, his eyes hard. “I think he’s telling you it’s true.”
Mick groaned, and Chris shoved him, his palms slamming into his chest. “You bastard. What the fuck did you do?
Piper gasped at the venom, the ugliness in Chris’s voice. Stunned, she barely registered Mick’s attempt to get to her and how Chris blocked his way. Like two fighters meeting in a ring, they squared off as the tension in the room grew to an unbearable level. She wasn’t about to let the two men she loved most in the world come to blows over what had to be a misunderstanding.
She insinuated herself between them, holding her hands up like a referee. “Okay. Back off you two, and let’s talk about what the hell is going on here.”
Mick moved close to her side. He reached out and seized her hands, holding her in place so he could look right into her eyes. “Piper, baby, it isn’t how the reporter made it sound.”
This wasn’t what she wanted to hear from him right now. She was looking for wholesale denial. Outrage. Instead, she was getting guilty looks and remorse. “Were you with that woman in her hotel room last night?” she asked.
He swallowed hard, his breath coming fast. His eyes were hot as they bore into hers. “I would never do what you’re thinking. Never do that to you. You’ve got to believe me.”
It was hard to speak with the huge lump lodged in her throat. She wrenched her hands away from his grasp, and when she spoke her voice sounded brittle and broken—a good match to how she felt all over. “So, you were in a hotel room with a naked Tanya last night?”
Mick flinched like she’d struck him. “Yes. But not for the reason you think.”
“Then why?”
“I was trying to do the right thing. She got drunk at the premiere party, and I took her back to her room to make sure she was safe. Once inside, she’s suddenly dropping her clothes and crawling all over me. I got her off me as soon as I could. I had no idea there was camera equipment in the room.”
Playing the Part Page 14
