The Real Thing

by Paige Tyler

  “Sorry,” she said. “It took forever to find something to wear.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Cameron turned back to the mirror to check his reflection one more time before following her to the door. Raine knew she should be happy he hadn’t made a fuss about making him wait, but she wasn’t. He didn’t even seem to care enough to notice they were running late.

  “Remember, Reginald wants you to sit on Cameron’s right when you’re at the club.” Chloe’s platform shoes echoed on the marble floor as she walked alongside her. “And he wants lots of PDAs, too. Photographers are going to be snapping your picture the whole time you’re there.”

  Raine ground her jaw. It was like a damn movie script. She was surprised her manager hadn’t given her and Cameron lines to memorize, too.

  They drove to the club in silence, but as soon as they stepped out of the limo, Cameron’s arm went around her so naturally she almost believed they were as in love as all the tabloids claimed. If cameras weren’t flashing, she would have shrugged off his embrace, but they were flashing, so she couldn’t. To fight the urge, she concentrated on smiling at the paparazzi as she and Cameron went into the club.

  The hostess immediately showed them to a table—one that Reginald had picked out, she was sure. Raine ordered a chocolate martini, then sat back in her seat. Beside her, Cameron played the adoring fiancé by putting his arm around her again and nuzzling her neck.

  Raine played her part, too, though with more difficulty. The fact that Cameron hadn’t said anything about her keeping him waiting still irritated her. Logan wouldn’t have liked cooling his heels for two hours while she changed clothes. He would have stormed upstairs and reddened her ass for sure.

  She almost choked on her drink. Where the heck had that thought come from?

  Raine immediately tried to put the sexy artist out of her mind, but the man simply refused to go, damn him. And the thought of him spanking her for taking so long to get dressed was suddenly all she could think about. A week ago, spanking had no place in her imagination, but since then it crept into her fantasies on a daily basis. Even now, her head was going places it shouldn’t. Rather than fight it like she should have, she let it play out. It was way more fun than talking to Cameron, that was for sure.

  And so, right there in the middle of Hollywood’s hottest nightclub, while sitting beside the man she was going to marry, she closed her eyes and indulged in a vivid sexual fantasy.

  Logan wouldn’t have waited downstairs for her like Cameron had. Instead, he would have come into her bedroom and demanded to know why she was taking so damn long. She’d toss yet another dress onto the already huge pile of clothes on the bed, then turn to him wearing only her bra and panties, and announce she had nothing to wear.

  He’d lift a brow and regard the clothes on the bed for a moment before giving her a stern look and telling her to get dressed. She’d give him a sexy, little pout and again insist she had nothing to wear.

  His mouth would quirk in that sexy way that it did. “You’re looking for a spanking, aren’t you?”

  “Of course not,” she’d tell him. Then, to hide her blush, she’d busy herself with something else. Like brushing her long hair. With an old-fashioned wooden hairbrush.

  Raine shifted a little in the club’s cozy booth, her pulse suddenly fluttering at the idea of being spanked with such a thing. A few days spent with Logan, and she was turning into a complete spankoholic.

  Back in her fantasy, Logan came to stand behind her. Their gazes met in the mirror, and she stopped brushing, the smoldering look in his dark eyes making her tremble.

  “Well, my sweet, little brat,” he said softly as he took the hairbrush from her suddenly nerveless fingers. “I think a spanking is exactly what you need to help you finish getting dressed.”

  She’d protest, but wouldn’t fight him all that much as he led her over to the bench at the foot of the bed and guided her over his knee.

  He’d start by giving her a dozen or so spanks with his hand until her ass tingled. Then, even though her lacy panties left most of her cheeks exposed, he’d pull them down, telling her that the rest of her spanking must be done on the bare. She’d tense as she waited for the first smack from the hairbrush, but he’d surprise her by gently caressing her derriere with his hand. His hand would slide down between her legs, his fingers gliding along her folds until he found her clit. Then he’d make gentle circles on the sensitive pleasure bud before slipping two of his fingers deep into her already sopping wet pussy. He’d thrust his fingers in and out once, then twice before pulling out.

  Desperate for more, she’d protest, only to squeal in surprise when the wooden hairbrush came down on her bare ass. Sitting there in the club, she could just imagine the sting such an implement would deliver. She shifted again in her seat.

  Logan wouldn’t spank her too hard—it’d be her first time getting spanked with the hairbrush, after all—but hard enough that her ass cheeks would be hot and stinging, and quite red. The thought had her so wet she actually let out a little moan.

  Beside her, Cameron looked at her questioningly. “You look flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

  Raine opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, but then closed it again. It was completely wrong to turn this to her advantage and use it to get out of this glorified photo opportunity, but she was going to do it anyway.

  “I’m suddenly not feeling very well,” she said quietly. “I think maybe we should leave.”

  He rested the back of his hand against her cheek, then frowned. “You’re burning up.”

  She gave him a small smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’d rather leave if that’s okay with you. I’ll feel much better at home in bed.”

  Where she could lose herself in her fantasy again—this time with her battery-operated bedside buddy.

  Chloe came by the next day to drop off the re-worked script for the pick-up shots that Raine would be shooting in Vancouver the following week. The role had come soon after she and Cameron had started “seeing” each other, and the movie promised be a blockbuster.

  Making herself chai tea, Raine carried the new script into the living room and settled down on the couch to memorize her lines. Rather than read, she found herself staring at the huge abstract painting hanging over the fireplace. It was okay, she supposed. If you liked splashes of color on a bright white canvas. The interior designer who’d done the place had charged her a small fortune for it, so she suspected it was worth a lot of money, but compared to Logan’s work, it was cold and lifeless.

  Tossing the script on the coffee table, she grabbed her laptop and connected to the internet. Going to Google, she typed in Logan’s name and clicked on the search button. The screen filled with hundreds of matches for the artist. Wow. Apparently, Logan McBride more famous than he let on.

  Raine clicked on the link to the gallery in Seattle that showed his work. According to the website, he was currently having a show of his most recent paintings, all of which were done in watercolor. The website also displayed images of some of his oil paintings from previous shows. Curious, she linked to each of the pictures. Though all his stuff was beautiful, she was drawn more to his watercolors than the oils. She didn’t have the expertise to define what made them different, but the watercolors seemed less rigid and more inspiring. It wasn’t that the oils weren’t great, she just liked the watercolors more.

  Going back the screen that showed the rest of the matches, she found a review for the current show and clicked on it. Clearly, the critic hadn’t liked the watercolors as much as she did. The terms he used ranged from “juvenile” to “unrefined.” Raine frowned. She was no stranger to poor reviews, but this one was definitely off the mark. Logan’s watercolors weren’t juvenile or unrefined. They were gorgeous. But she supposed the art world had its politics just like Hollywood did. Movie critics hated when actors switched genres. Obviously, art critics did, too.

  Raine wanted to click on every link Google
had for Logan, but she had a script to read. Grabbing it, she curled up on the couch and got down to work. Or tried to anyway. Her gaze kept going back to the painting above the fireplace, and every time it did, she couldn’t help thinking one of Logan’s watercolors would look so much better filling that space.

  Chapter Four

  “Seattle?” Chloe said the word as if she’d never heard of the place before. “What’s in Seattle?”

  Logan.

  But Raine couldn’t say that. “There’s this art gallery there I want to check out.”

  Her friend frowned. “Since when are you interested in art?”

  Since I fell for a hunky artist with a penchant for spanking.

  Raine zipped her weekender bag. “Since I heard about the art gallery.”

  “Oh.” Chloe pushed a stray curl back. “Well, do you want me to go with you? I can be packed in fifteen minutes.”

  “Don’t be silly. Stay here and enjoy your days off.” Raine grinned. “Kidnap that hottie on the film crew you’ve been crushing on and go sightseeing.”

  She gave Chloe a wave, then grabbed her bag and hurried out of the hotel room before she could change her mind.

  She wasn’t going to Seattle to see Logan, she told herself as she waited for the valet to bring around her rented Jaguar. She was going to the gallery to see his paintings. If he just happened to be there, then…

  Then she’d tell him she had some free time in between filming pick-up shots in Vancouver, and that she’d come down to Seattle to check out his paintings. It was true.

  Besides, he probably wouldn’t even be at the gallery. He might still be at the cabin. God, she hoped not.

  The three-hour drive from Vancouver seemed to take forever. Probably because she was so keyed up. She hadn’t been this nervous since her first audition.

  The gallery was just down the street from Pike’s Place Market. Logan’s paintings weren’t the only ones on display, but they filled the majority of the store. A petite middle-age woman was at the ornate desk just inside the entryway. She looked up from her phone conversation to smile at Raine, mouthing something that looked like, “I’ll be right with you.” Raine returned her smile, then wandered across the gallery.

  Logan’s paintings had looked good on the net, but in real life, they were breathtaking, and as she studied them, she found herself picturing him working on them. Though they were all spectacular, one in particular caught her attention. It depicted a small cabin nestled in the trees and surrounded by snow-capped mountains. It took her a moment to realize it was the same one where she’d spent the weekend with him, and she smiled.

  “Logan McBride is one of our most popular local artists,” a woman’s voice said. “Though he usually works in oils, this is his first foray into watercolors.”

  Raine turned to see that the woman had left her desk and come to stand beside her. “He’s very talented.” She turned back to the painting of the cabin. “I especially like this one.”

  The woman smiled. “That’s actually a cabin he has up in the mountains in northern California.”

  Raine almost admitted she knew where it was, but caught herself just in time. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  The woman fell silent, but Raine could feel her eyes on her. Was she wondering if she should go in for the hard sell?

  “Forgive me, but you look so much like the actress Raine Montgomery that I just have to ask,” the woman said. “Are you her?”

  Raine’s first instinct was to deny it, to tell the woman she heard that all the time, but she didn’t. She smiled. “Yes, I am.”

  The woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my goodness! Are you in town filming a movie, then?”

  Raine shook her head. “Actually, I came to see Logan McBride’s work. I’ve heard a lot about it and wanted to see his paintings in person.”

  “Really?” The woman beamed. “Well, if you like his paintings as much as you seem to, you simply must meet him. This is forward of me, but if you’re going to be in town a while, do you think we could set up a photo shoot with the Seattle Times? It’s always good publicity for an artist to have a famous celebrity gush over his work.”

  “Um…”

  Her heart was pounding so hard at the prospect of seeing Logan again it was practically ready to jump out of her chest, so why was she hesitating?

  The door of the gallery swung open, saving her from answering both questions, and she quickly turned back to the painting hoping the woman would run off to chat up her new client.

  “Logan, what perfect timing! There’s someone you have to meet.”

  If Raine’s heart was beating wildly before, that was nothing compared to how hard it was thumping now. Hoping Logan couldn’t hear how deafening it was, she slowly turned to face him.

  Despite fantasizing about him for the past week, her breath still hitched at the real thing. Dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, that trademark scruff on his jaw, he looked even more gorgeous than she remembered.

  Logan stared at her, as if not quite believing what he saw. “Raine?”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Raine gripped her handbag tighter and offered him a small smile.

  The woman from the gallery looked from Logan to her in confusion. “You two know each other?”

  Logan ignored her, his attention fully focused on Raine. “What are you doing here?”

  She wet her lips nervously. “I was doing some filming up in Vancouver, and thought I’d drive down here to see your work.”

  “She’s particularly fond of that one you did of your cabin,” the gallery woman put in. “In fact, we were just discussing the possibility of the two of you doing a photo-op when you came in.”

  Logan’s dark eyes were almost a caress as they regarded Raine. “The one of the cabin, huh?”

  Was he thinking what she was thinking, remembering what she was remembering? She dragged her gaze away from his to smile at the woman. “I’d like to purchase it if it isn’t already sold.”

  The woman’s eyes lit up. “Excellent! If you two will excuse me, I’ll go start the paperwork.”

  Raine barely heard her. Everything else in the room had ceased to exist the moment Logan walked into the gallery. Being this close to him again was intoxicating.

  The corner of his mouth edged up. “I thought my artwork wasn’t to your taste.”

  She frowned. “I never said that.”

  “You implied it.”

  She was pretty sure she hadn’t, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. “Let’s just say that the cabin has a special significance for me.”

  He regarded her in silence, his dark eyes unreadable. “So, how long are you in town for?”

  “A couple days.”

  She would have said more, but the woman from the gallery interrupted them, saying she needed Raine’s signature on a few things.

  Raine was keenly aware of Logan watching her as she signed the paperwork and paid for her purchase. Her hand trembled so much that her signature looked like a ten-year-old write it, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.

  “Now that’s out of the way, what do you think about that photo-op I mentioned? The one for the Times.”

  Logan’s brows drew together. “What photo-op?”

  The woman smiled at him. “Raine has graciously agreed to take a photo with you for the newspaper.”

  His frown deepened. “I appreciate it, Evangeline, but I can’t take advantage of Raine that way.”

  “You aren’t taking advantage of her,” Evangeline insisted. “She doesn’t mind. Do you, Raine?”

  Raine smiled. “Not at all.”

  She didn’t mind. Especially since the critic who’d given Logan that crappy review worked for the Times. This was her chance to make him and every other opinionated know-it-all eat their words. Raine Montgomery didn’t buy paintings that were “juvenile” and “unrefined.”

  Logan looked as if he wanted to protest some more, but finally he nodded. “Okay.
Thanks.”

  Evangeline smiled. “I’ll go call them right now. Be right back.”

  Logan shook his head as he watched the woman practically run toward the back of the gallery. “Sorry about that. She can be a force sometimes.”

  Raine laughed. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind taking the picture.”

  They stood there in silence, the only sound coming from the muted phone conversation Evangeline was having in the back of the gallery. There was so much Raine wanted to say, but she couldn’t.

  Logan cleared his throat. “Do you want to grab dinner or something? If you don’t have other plans.” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “It’s okay if you do.”

  She quickly shook her head. “I don’t. Have other plans, I mean. It’s just that sometimes I have a hard time going out in public.”

  “I didn’t think about that.” He regarded her. “We could always have dinner at my place.”

  Her heart started beating like crazy again. “I’d like that.”

  Evangeline breezed in before either of them could say more. As it turned out, the newspaper couldn’t do the photo-op until the following day. That was fine with Raine. The sooner she could be alone with Logan, the better.

  She had to wait a little longer because he lived out on Bainbridge Island, so they had to take the ferry across Puget Sound. After seeing his cabin, she expected Logan’s house to be equally outdoorsy looking, but it was a modern-looking two-story set against a backdrop of tall fir trees.

  “I’ll get us something to drink,” Logan said when they got inside. “Make yourself at home.”

  Raine took off her jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch. With a loft that overlooked the living room, a huge kitchen and a set of French doors leading out to a back deck, the interior of the house was just as beautiful as the outside.

  “I know you don’t like red meat, so how about salmon?” Logan asked as he handed her a glass of wine.

  “That’s fine.” She smiled. “You don’t have to go to any trouble, you know.”

  “I don’t, huh?” His mouth quirked. “How about a can of beef stew then?”