Those Baby Blues

by Sheridon Smythe

  "She knows what she's doing, leading him on this way."

  Leading him on? Hadleigh's jaw dropped. Was Brutal talking about her?

  Trudy's voice was muffled and indistinct, much to Hadleigh's frustration, but Brutal's voice carried loud and clear.

  "She's using that little girl as a lure, too."

  Another muffled response, which Hadleigh wouldn't have heard anyway over her gasp of outrage.

  "How do I know? Because I've worked for the boss for the past ten years, and in all that time, I ain't never seen a woman resist him, especially when he's interested in her—and Treet is definitely interested. So she's got to be pretending, and the little game she's playing seems to be working. He just don't realize that she ain't gonna give him what he wants until he gives her what she wants."

  And what would that be, pray tell? Hadleigh had to physically stop herself from charging forward and finding out for herself.

  "Maybe ... wrong."

  It was Trudy, and those were the only two words Hadleigh could make out. Brutal's energetic response filled in the blanks.

  "Then why else would she be playing hard to get?"

  Why else indeed. Hadleigh scowled at the hall wall. So Brutal believed that she had hidden motives behind her resistance to Treet. Of all the blasted conceit—

  "He's got money, looks, and fame. Ain't many women can resist that combination."

  Wanna bet?

  "I say she's holding out for marriage."

  Hadleigh nearly dropped the tray at Brutal's bald statement. But the bodyguard wasn't finished....

  "She wouldn't be the first ... and she sure won't be the last."

  Brutal's bitter tone chilled her to the bone. She had no idea the man believed such underhanded, devious things about her. Not a clue. He was always polite to her in manner and tone; at least he had been the past week. Okay, so he wasn't over-friendly, but she'd just assumed his aloofness was part of his character.

  Hadleigh managed a humorless smile. Brutal would probably never believe it, but if not for the girls, she most likely would have thrown caution to the wind and jumped in head first—into his bed, that is. It wasn't every day she encountered a man that could float her boat the way Treet apparently could.

  But then, if not for the girls, odds are she would never have met him.

  "He's acting crazy, too. Did you know he turned down a chance to work with Simon Callister?

  The Simon Callister? The movie director Simon Callister? Hadleigh let out a silent breath of awe. Simon Callister was the equivalent of Steven Spielberg.

  "You know he's got it bad when he loses interest in acting. She'll ruin him before it's all said and done."

  Lordy, if only she possessed the power Brutal seemed to think she did! Not that she did ... or would ever think that she did ... or would ever misuse that power if she did have it. In fact, it was downright flattering to hear someone suggest such a silly, ridiculous possibility. Imagine, her, having power over someone like Treet.

  She wondered if Treet was aware that his bodyguard was prone to dramatics. Big ones. Laughable ones.

  Taking a deep breath, Hadleigh rattled the tray as she closed the gap between the hall and the kitchen entrance. She couldn't stand to hear any more without laughing out loud. The silly man was so wrong. Way, way off base. She wasn't out to lure Treet to the altar, and she damned sure wasn't out to wreck his career! In fact, she couldn't think of a single thing she wanted from Treet.

  Not a single thing.

  Okay, so there were a few things, but thinking about those things made her face heat, so she wasn't going to think about them. Besides, those things had nothing to do with money or fame.

  Pasting a bright smile on her face, she moved into the light. “Oh, you're back. How was the movie?” She nearly smiled at Brutal's startled, guilty look.

  "James Bond,” Trudy said, beaming at her.

  The woman was always beaming. Hadleigh suspected she didn't possess a mean bone in her body. Maybe some of her goodness would rub off on Brutal, was Hadleigh's droll thought.

  "Yeah, it was great.” Brutal cleared his throat and looked everywhere but her face. “So, how was your movie?"

  "I wouldn't know.” Hadleigh unloaded her tray on the kitchen counter by the sink and began rinsing out glasses before she put them in the dishwasher, giving Brutal enough time to let his imagination soar. “I slept through it, and so did Sam, Caroline, and Treet."

  Trudy giggled. It was a wonderful, lighthearted giggle. Hadleigh giggled right along with her. “You should see them—they're all huddled together on the sofa."

  But Brutal didn't crack a smile. Instead, he frowned. “That ain't like the boss to nod off this early. Hope he ain't getting sick."

  Hadleigh hoped he wasn't either, because she was fairly certain Brutal would find a way to blame her for that, too. Struggling for an innocent look, she said, “Maybe he's just tired from all that good, clean fun he had today."

  If Brutal noticed her emphasis on the word clean, he gave no clue. She watched him as he slid his big frame from the stool and stretched. Biceps bulged in his arms and chest. “I think I'll take a turn around the grounds, then lock up for the night."

  Curiosity prompted Hadleigh's question. “You really think that's necessary way out here? Nobody knows we're here, do they?"

  He met her gaze head on with a faint smidgen of scorn. “Treet could be on the moon and they'd find him."

  "They?"

  "The media. His fans."

  "Oh."

  How could she forget, even for a moment? But she had, and for more than a moment, too. All day long, in fact. And who could blame her? Throughout the day, they'd played with the girls and talked and laughed like a normal fam—like normal people. Treet had scrapped his elbow on the side of the pool and laughed it off. He'd eaten pizza with the same dive-in-get-it-while-it's-hot gusto as the rest of them had, ignoring the tomato sauce dripping from his chin.

  He'd popped popcorn and burned four bags before he got it right, according to Sam. Best of all, he'd fallen asleep holding two little girls in his arms.

  Just like a normal, run-of-the-mill kinda guy.

  But Treet Miller was anything but normal, and she knew it.

  So how had she forgotten?

  * * * *

  Eavesdropping wasn't normally Hadleigh's style, but the opportunities just kept popping up.

  The second time happened late the next morning. She walked in on Treet having a phone conversation with Todd Hall, or so she gathered by Treet's irritated tone and the content of his answers. He had his back to her, one hand braced upon the fireplace and his sneakered foot propped on the hearth. Just as she was about to let him know of her presence, he spoke into the phone again.

  "I can't do that to the girls, Todd. I persuaded Hadleigh to take off work and come out here with us. It wouldn't be right.” He paused, his back rigid with tension. Then: “You've got to be kidding! Rehearse here? And who would act as leading lady? Brutal? Trudy? Caroline? I don't think so."

  Hadleigh cleared her throat. When he didn't appear to hear her, she began backing slowly out of the room.

  "I can't ask Hadleigh."

  Another long, suspenseful pause. Hadleigh stopped in mid-step, holding her breath. Ask Hadleigh what? She wanted to know. And she wanted to know badly. And whatever it was, why couldn't he?

  Treet let out an explosive breath. “I just can't. We're not here to work; we're here to spend quality time with Caroline and Samantha. I mean it, Todd. I'm passing this one up. You'll just have to live with it."

  The phone crashed into the cradle, making Hadleigh jump. She pivoted and headed for the door, silently praying she'd manage to disappear before he spotted her and realized she'd overheard his private conversation with his agent.

  "Hadleigh. Wait."

  Damn. Hadleigh slowly turned to face him, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. She decided to make the best of it by coming clean. “I, um, couldn't help but overhear
your conversation.” When he simply stared at her, she licked her lips and continued. “You—you don't have to turn down the job on our account. Samantha and I aren't going anywhere."

  His brow rose. A smiled tugged at the corners of his sexy mouth. “Are you offering to help?"

  "H—help?” she squeaked, wondering what the heck she was getting herself into. “How could I help?” She couldn't seem to stop staring at his mouth. It was so extraordinary ... beautiful. Sensual.

  "By standing in for the leading lady. Hadleigh?"

  She gave a start, struggling to remember what he'd said. Oh. Oh, God! “The leading lady? You want me to stand in for the leading lady?"

  "Why not? It's just a rehearsal ... and it would be just you and me."

  And that was supposed to make her feel more relaxed? “I would probably just embarrass myself,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I can't act. In fact, I've never acted ... well, there was that one time in the high school play, but I only had two lines, and—"

  "Hadleigh."

  She stopped rambling and looked at him. “What?"

  "Is that a yes, or a no?"

  How could she say no to that sexy, grinning, devilishly handsome face? How did any woman say no to Treet Miller? “Yes. I'll help you ... as long as you don't expect too much.” She wished she could catch her breath. Losing it tended to be a habit when she found herself alone with him.

  Slowly, he began to saunter toward her. She held her ground, but every instinct in her urged her to turn tail and run. When Treet turned on the charm, he was downright lethal.

  He reached her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her chin, his fingers both amazingly tender and helplessly arousing. “I've got a feeling you'll be more than adequate for my needs."

  They were talking about acting, weren't they? Hadleigh suspected she was, but Treet wasn't. At least, not any longer. She made a half-hearted stab at pretending she didn't know that he'd skillfully twisted her words. “Well, I hope I don't disappoint you.” Or myself, she added silently.

  His voice became a hypnotic whisper as he said, “I think you underestimate your ... abilities, Hadleigh."

  She swallowed hard. “So, who's the leading lady?"

  "Julia Roberts."

  Hadleigh's jaw dropped. She slammed it shut. “I'll make a fool out of myself.” And she would; she just knew it. “Can't you call her, see if she'll fly out and rehearse with you?"

  Treet shook his head. “Todd said she was on location in Alaska, and won't be finished for two more weeks.” He affected a pleading expression that made Hadleigh want to laugh, it was so obviously contrived. “You're my only hope."

  "I can't act, Treet.” She couldn't stress the fact enough.

  "I'll teach you."

  "I'll teach you." The simple words evoked a trembling deep in the pit of her belly. She found herself nodding. “Okay, but—” Before she could finish, Treet enveloped her in a rib-crushing hug.

  "Thank you. You won't regret it, I promise."

  She hoped not, but was very afraid that she would.

  * * * *

  Treet was almost ashamed at how easily he had manipulated Hadleigh into his naughty plans.

  Almost, but not quite. He knew she was attracted to him; he also knew how stubborn she could be in resisting the attraction, and was equally determined to change her mind.

  He couldn't wait to get started.

  Time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. Dinner consisted of soup and sandwiches, and conversation centered around a litter of motherless kittens Caroline and Samantha had found in the barn and insisted on bringing into the house. All five kittens were now purring happily in a box in the laundry room. His gaze drifted for the umpteenth time to Hadleigh. She wore a casual tank top and shorts, and her hair shone soft and silky beneath the overheard chandelier. She looked so natural and sexy and glorious that Treet had a hard time keeping his eyes off her.

  She caught him watching her and smiled. “So, what's the movie about?"

  Taking his time answering, Treet finishing chewing and swallowing the delicious rice pudding Trudy had prepared for dessert. He noticed that Caroline was methodically picking out the raisins and piling them beside her bowl.

  "It's a comedy,” he said, deliberately leaving out the ‘romantic’ part. No need to set off alarm bells at this early stage. She'd know soon enough, like in the first scene. “It's called, IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS,” he added with a shrug. “Todd seems to think it's a blockbuster."

  "And what does Treet think?"

  "I think he might be right.” The raisins beside his daughter's bowl had grown, and after a quick glance at Sam, he soon knew why. She'd been adding to Caroline's pile when she wasn't looking.

  Sam caught him watching her, grinning sheepishly. Treet winked and grinned back. He'd never believed in forcing kids to eat foods they didn't like. He didn't know Hadleigh's views on the subject, but didn't intend to find out by ratting on Sam.

  "Shouldn't I read the script before we begin?"

  Treet focused on Hadleigh. “I think it might be easier on you if you don't. This way you can concentrate on what's happening at the moment, instead of thinking about what comes next.” He held his breath until she nodded, then carefully let it out on a sigh of relief. He hadn't finished ‘doctoring’ the script.

  "I bow to your expertise."

  "What's that word, Daddy, and what does it mean?"

  "It means when someone knows a lot about something."

  "Oh. You mean, like you know a lot about acting?” Caroline persisted.

  Sam's eyes widened. “You're an actor, like in the movies?"

  Under his mock-glowering look, Hadleigh blushed. She shrugged her dainty, reddened shoulders. “What can I say? The only thing she watches is the Animal Channel, and I guess I, um, forget to tell her."

  "Tell me what, Mommy?” Sam demanded.

  "That Treet is a movie star."

  "You mean like Steve, the crocodile hunter?"

  Hadleigh chuckled. “Bigger than that."

  "You mean like Clint Eastwood?"

  At Sam's enlightening question, Treet cleared his throat and gazed pointedly at Hadleigh, who had the grace to look sheepish.

  "I, um, have a few of his movies, and sometimes Sam watches them with me."

  "When she sometimes lets me stay up late with her,” Sam added with an air of importance. “Mostly just on the weekends."

  Caroline picked up the unspoken challenge, and the subject of Treet's occupation was dropped. “I don't have a bed time, do I Daddy?"

  "Of course not.” Just as Caroline stuck her tongue out in Sam's direction, he added, “You're always asleep by nine o'clock, so there's no need."

  "Daddy!"

  Treet laughed at her outraged expression. “Well, it's true! Believe me, I've tried to keep you awake. It doesn't do any good."

  "Now Sam's gonna call me a baby."

  "No she won't,” Hadleigh said with a warning glance in her daughter's direction.

  Eyes glinting with mischief, Sam opened her mouth. Hadleigh reached over and shoved a spoonful of rice pudding inside.

  With the raisins intact.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Here, try this. It'll help get you in the mood."

  Alarmed, Hadleigh stared at the drink he held out. “What's in it?” It wasn't the question she meant to ask. What she should be asking is what the hell he meant by ‘get in the mood'. She was here to help him rehearse—nothing more, nothing less.

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

  He held her gaze a beat or two before grinning. “Just kidding.” He planted the glass in her hand. “It's tangerine and kiwi."

  Relieved, she took the drink. “Good, because I don't think it's a good idea for me to—"

  "And a tiny splash of Tequila,” he added, his grin pure sin.

  Instead of arguing, she took a tiny sip. If she tasted a smidgen of alcohol she wasn't going
to drink it.

  She didn't. In fact, the tropical drink was wonderfully sweet and tangy. “Okay, just this one.” Her hand trembled, making the ice cubes tinkle against the glass.

  A dark brow shot upward, disappearing into a lazy lock of hair across his forehead. “You're nervous,” he said.

  "You think?"

  "Smart mouth."

  "That's me.” Hadleigh took a deep breath, wishing she could relax and have fun. This was an opportunity of a life-time—to actually rehearse with a larger-than life movie star.

  A movie star who made mud pies with his daughter and read bedtime stories like nobody's business.

  The reminder helped ... until she remembered how aroused she became just listening to him read those innocent bedtime stories.

  "At least give me a brief summary of what the script is about,” she said abruptly, taking another fortifying drink of the fruity beverage.

  "All right. Zoey Kraft—that would be you—is in advertising. Her boyfriend of five years is her boss. His name is Frank Dorsey, and he's also in advertising. Owns his own business. He and his competitor, Russell Linuchi—that would be me—have both bid on a new perfume ad for a major company called Unique, to be presented in two weeks. Frank wants to know what Russell is planning, and Zoey volunteers to go undercover as Russell's new secretary to get the scoop."

  "Why?"

  "Because she's hoping to make Frank jealous. Frank is a business man, and although he claims to love Zoey, he hasn't been very good at showing it lately. Zoey knows about the rivalry between Russell and Frank and hopes to push Frank into proposing to her by embellishing her dates with Russell to Frank. Before long she doesn't have to embellish them."

  Hadleigh was enthralled. “You're pretty good at this."

  "Thanks. What Zoey doesn't count on is her instant attraction to playboy Russell Linuchi, and his determination about getting what he wants. She has trouble resisting him."

  "Hm.” Hadleigh, who had relaxed a fraction, immediately tensed again. It sounded too familiar. “Tell me more about Russell."

  "He's Italian, and a confirmed bachelor. He loves women, and women love him. The reason he goes through so many secretaries is because he gets involved with them."