A Scandal So Sweet

by Ann Major

  “All weekend I wanted this,” she whispered. “Wanted you. Wanted to touch you, to kiss you…to be in your arms…even though I tried to tell myself I didn’t. Friday night I lay in bed, wanting this more than I’d ever wanted anything. And last night after we talked, I craved it even more, craved it so much I felt like I was about to burst. Then you went upstairs, and I felt so lost and alone in that bed. I—I couldn’t sleep for hours. You told me you’d make me want you, and you were right.”

  “You shouldn’t say these things.”

  “I don’t understand any of it and yet…it’s the truth.”

  “Hell,” he muttered. “This isn’t some damn role you’ve got to understand. Life’s messy and chaotic and doesn’t make a lick of sense most of the time. Like now. Like last night. I decided you’re the one woman I should have nothing to do with. And yet here I am… .”

  “Tell me about it,” she whispered. “You’re definitely bad for me, too.”

  When his mouth took hers again, his desperation and urgency made her dizzily excited.

  “This is crazy,” she whispered as her fingertips glided across the damp hair on his bronzed flesh. “I didn’t want to come this weekend, and now I can’t bear to go.”

  “I don’t want you to go, either.”

  “Punish me like you swore you would. Make love to me,” she whispered.

  The next thing she knew, he was lifting her, kissing her wildly as he carried her up the stairs, into the house and then down the hall to her room. Locking the door, he drew her down to the bed.

  In no time, she stripped, but even in her rush, she enjoyed the striptease, for never had she played to a more fascinated audience. He lay on the bed watching as she undid her blouse in the shadows. Button by button, her slim fingers skimmed downward. He held his breath, his eyes burning when she threw her blouse aside and unhooked her bra.

  “You are exquisite,” he rasped when she slid her lacy panties down her thighs. Vaguely she was aware of him rustling with a foil wrapper. Then, reaching for her, he lay down beside her and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

  She let her head fall back, offering him her breasts. “You’re pretty okay yourself.”

  His lips traced the length of her throat. He tasted first one nipple and then the other until they beaded into damp, pink pearls. She trembled with an enjoyment she couldn’t hide, which she could see excited him even more.

  When his lips found hers again, she fell back against the pillows and opened her mouth so his tongue could slide inside.

  “Strip for me,” she whispered. “I want to see you naked.”

  “Wicked girl.”

  Grinning, he ripped off his swimming trunks. Her breath stopped. He was huge and gorgeous, magnificently virile. While she watched approvingly through the screen of her lowered lashes, he tossed his trunks into a far corner.

  Reaching toward him, she slid her hand over his manhood, circling it so that he inhaled sharply. While she touched him, he caressed her most secret, delicate folds with blunt-fingered hands, teasing her sensitive nub of flesh until her breath came hard and fast and she wanted him inside her more than anything.

  But he refused for a while longer, teasing her with his mouth and hands while she grew hotter and wilder.

  How had she lived without him all these years?

  Squeezing him, she rubbed in an urgent, methodic way until he groaned and gathered her close. She heard the sound of a foil wrapper again. Then he slid the condom on and, much to her delight, positioned the head of his shaft against her damp entrance.

  Murmuring her name, he hovered there, kissing her hair, her brow. Only when she arched her hips upward in sensual invitation did he slide all the way inside. For a moment, he stopped and simply held her so they could savor the sensation of their joined bodies.

  “Zach,” she pleaded.

  His hips surged. She cried out as he drove himself home.

  Their eyes met and held. With her hands, she cupped his face and kissed each of his cheeks and then his nose.

  He sighed, as if relieved of some immense weight. Then, all too soon, some primal force took over.

  How she loved lying underneath him, staring up at the breadth of his bronzed shoulders, at his black hair that dripped perspiration onto his gorgeous face as he pumped. She felt on fire. With every thrust he claimed her, and she surrendered to him as she had as a girl, completely, irrevocably, giving him every shattered piece of her heart.

  Thus did he sweep her away to emotional and sensual peaks she’d never known before. Crying out in the end, she held on to him, feeling lost and yet found again as he exploded inside her. In a blinding flash, she saw that he had always remained at the center of her heart.

  For a long time she lay trembling quietly beneath him. Then she kissed his damp eyelashes and eyebrows. I love you, she thought. I always have. This is what has been missing.

  If I have everything else and lack this, I can never be complete.

  Only gradually did she grow aware of how wonderfully heavy he was on top of her. When she opened her eyes and looked up at the hard angles of his handsome face, she saw that he was staring down at her with a brooding intensity that frightened her.

  “You’ve got to go soon, so you can cram for those damn scenes with Jones.” Frowning, he kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Yes,” she replied drowsily without the least bit of enthusiasm. “I think you just sapped all my ambition to be a movie star. I just want to stay here with you.”

  He nipped her upper lip a little firmly…as if to snap her out of her languid mood. “But that’s not who you are, is it? You said your career is what completes you, not relationships. And with my uncle not there to help me anymore, I’ve got a helluva lot to do in Houston. So…”

  No sweet words. Nothing. Just those two parting kisses.

  A chill swept her. Had she been wrong about their sex being spiritual as well as physical? Had it just been revenge for him after all? Now that he’d had her again, was he done?

  “And next weekend?” she murmured, deliberately keeping her voice light. “Do we meet again?”

  “I’ll call you,” he said slowly, but there was no conviction in his voice. Her heart sank as he stroked her neck absently. “Like I said, we both have a lot on our plates.”

  “Sounds to me like maybe I’m off the hook. For good behavior?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted.

  “Okay, then. I get it.”

  He stared at her, sucked in a breath, but didn’t reply.

  She rose, reached for her clothes and began to dress hurriedly.

  So what if he wasn’t going to call? She’d served her time, so to speak. Now he wouldn’t press charges against Tuck.

  Logically, she knew that it was probably best if this thing between them ended here. For her, sex with him had been too intense, too all-consuming for her to have a light affair. He would break her heart all over again if she wasn’t careful. No smart adult should let herself become involved with a man she’d loved and obsessed over for years.

  But she wasn’t feeling logical. She was feeling sensually and emotionally aflame after his lovemaking. The whole world seemed aglow. He seemed a part of her, her other half.

  Naturally, she wanted to see him again, to lie in his arms like this again. She felt she’d lose a vital part of herself forever if she couldn’t. Which meant he’d completed his mission, by using sex as a weapon to punish her.

  He’d won.

  Seven

  On her flight to L.A., try as she might, Summer found it impossible to concentrate on her script. Hurt simmered inside her because of Zach’s coolness at their parting. Thus, the minute the jet’s wheels slammed against tarmac, she turned on her phone, desperate to check her messages.

  She swallowed when she found only a single text from Hugh.

  can’t meet u. nominated sexiest man n known universe 2day. jerk leaked information about hot scenes n dangerous man. horde of paparazzi @ my bldg.


  No sooner had her plane rolled to a stop in front of a private hangar than a herd of photographers stampeded her jet.

  Great. I’m on my own. This is what I deserve for letting the world think even for one minute I was ever serious about Hugh.

  Bob stuck his shaggy head out of the cockpit and said, “Not to worry. I’ve already notified security.”

  When she finally left the jet, with a security detail, paparazzi on motorcycles chased her limo all the way to her hotel. Apparently, Hugh’s premiere had been well-received by critics and the public, so for now he was the hottest talent in La-La Land.

  Welcome to Hollywood, she thought as she bolted herself into her hotel room.

  * * *

  When room service arrived with her breakfast the next morning, Summer found a weekly tabloid tucked under her door along with a note from her agent. The tabloid’s banner headline read: Sexiest Man In The Universe Teams With Reputed Lover, Broadway Actress Summer Wallace, To Shoot Super Sexy Love Scenes. The article beneath the headline made her feel cheap and tawdry, especially after her weekend with Zach.

  Summer Wallace upset legions of fans this weekend when she failed to attend the premiere of Kill-Hard on the arm of rumored lover, Hugh Jones, star of the film. Instead, the actress tiptoed into the city late last night. It’s no secret their fans can’t wait for a sneak peek of their favorite couple out on the town together this week. Or better yet, a sneak peak of those love scenes in Dangerous Man. We hear they’re going to be sizzling.

  Her week got crazier, but what made her feel crazier was that Zach never called or texted.

  When she was on the set, Summer didn’t know if it was the soul-stirring sex she’d shared with Zach or Hugh’s sulky attitude toward her after she’d told him she’d reconnected with Zach over the weekend, but filming intimate moments with Hugh was awkward. She was tense, Hugh impatient and their director, Sam, who called for endless takes, apoplectic.

  It didn’t help her mood that every male employee in production made up some pretext to show up on the set to leer. During the most intimate scenes, she felt as if she was betraying Zach. Even though he’d dismissed her and had shown no inclination to see her again, she worried about what he’d think of the finished film. Not that she or Hugh had to strip for the camera—in fact, she had a clause in her contract that protected her against nudity.

  By day two she felt as if she was playing Twister with a sullen, male octopus. Whatever spark had ever existed between Hugh and her was absolutely dead. The only way she endured her scenes with Hugh and managed to respond in character was to remember how she’d felt when Zach had touched her or kissed her.

  She wanted Zach, but his silence made her that wonder if her longing was one-sided. At night, when she was alone in her hotel room, hoping Zach would call, she felt lost and lonely and under more pressure than ever.

  By Thursday, they were forced to film late into the night. Just when she thought the endless, excruciating takes on that satin bed would never end, Sam yelled it was a wrap. He was thrilled with the rushes.

  “You were fantastic, Summer,” he said. “Gorgeous in every shot. Every man in America will envy Hugh.”

  For the first time in her career, she didn’t care about that. She just wanted to be with Zach. Even though it was pretty obvious Zach didn’t feel as she did, Sam’s praise reawakened her concerns about how Zach might react to the movie.

  Relieved to be finished, Summer headed back to her hotel. While she was showering, her phone rang. She grabbed for a towel and then her cell. She could see from the number that it was Zach.

  “Hi,” Zach said as she pulled the towel around her dripping body. “How’s the ankle?”

  His voice sounded so hard and cold, she wondered why he’d even called.

  “Actually, I’m not on crutches anymore. So, it’s great… .” Her voice died into nothingness.

  “Glad to hear it. So—you won’t sue me,” he murmured drily.

  She held her breath, waiting, hoping his mood would lighten, hoping he’d called to say he wanted to see her again.

  “I called to say I decided not to let you off for good behavior after all.”

  “Oh.” She stopped, stunned, wondering where this was going and whether his motive stemmed from the need to punish or the desire to be with her.

  “There’s a ground-breaking ceremony tomorrow—Friday night—at my construction site. My PR people think I need a date, and they think you’d be the perfect one…. You being a celebrity and a hometown girl. Since you still owe me, I decided to call. You’ll need to dress up and look beautiful—movie-star beautiful.”

  So this wasn’t about them; this was about his work.

  “But you’ve already broken ground. I mean… I fell in that hole, didn’t I?” she said softly, hoping he would admit to feeling more for her.

  “Won’t happen tomorrow night because I’ll be holding on to you all night long. Good for my image.”

  Her hopes and his tension warred in the silence that hung between them. She was a big girl. She should be used to men wanting her only for publicity.

  “The whole town will be there,” he said. “So, a fringe benefit of this appearance will be having the gossips around here see that you don’t view me as a threat. I know this is late notice, but you do owe me.”

  “Of course, I’ll be your date,” she whispered.

  When he didn’t say anything, she realized anew how tense he was. How could he have made love to her so passionately and then have turned so cold? It was as if he’d turned off a switch and now disliked her more than ever. How could she have been so wrong about what they’d shared?

  To keep him from hanging up, because some tiny part of her believed she hadn’t been wrong, she said, “So—how’ve you been all week?”

  “Fine.” Again his voice was too abrupt.

  “Work went okay?”

  “The usual challenges. And your scenes with Hugh? How did they go?” As always, when discussing the subject of Hugh, his tone hardened. Which was strange—he’d been so aloof since they’d slept together. Why would he care?

  Maybe she should explain about how grueling and unsexy the work had really been. Maybe she should tell Zach that because of him, she’d ended it with Hugh. But she didn’t want to discuss Hugh, not when Zach was in his present dark mood. Not over the phone.

  “Sam, our director, says he’s happy. I’m…I’m just glad the week’s over. After Bonne Terre, it felt like the four longest days of my life…because I…I missed you.”

  She willed him to say he’d missed her, too, to say anything… . When he didn’t, she chewed at the edge of a fingernail.

  “Zach…”

  “Hmm?”

  She took a deep breath. Why was it so impossible to talk to him now when it had been so easy the night after her fall?

  “Never mind,” she finally said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” he repeated sternly. “Bob will call you and set a time and place to pick you up.” He hung up after an impersonal goodbye that left her feeling emotionally dissatisfied.

  If only he’d sounded the least bit eager to see her.

  He’d called, hadn’t he? He’d demanded that she spend another weekend with him.

  Maybe she’d given up on them too soon when she’d been younger. She didn’t want to make the same mistake a second time.

  “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.” That’s what Zach’s PR guys said. They loved that somebody had stolen the hot love scenes from Summer’s new movie and plastered them all over the internet.

  Zach disagreed. Tension fisted around his lungs as he studied the stolen clips of Summer with Jones. She was so gorgeous he couldn’t breathe. Even though she was lying beneath another man, just the sight of her sparkling eyes, tremulous lips, breasts and silken hair got his pulse thudding violently. In an instant, he remembered her looking at him exactly that way and how nauseatingly vulnerable he’d felt when he’d realized there
was no way he could make love to her again without surrendering his heart. In one stolen weekend, she’d gotten through every careful barrier he’d spent years erecting, which made her too dangerous to fool around with.

  Since there was no way he was ever giving her his heart again, he’d sent her packing.

  But that hadn’t stopped him from wanting her.

  Hell. She’d plunged him back into hell. That’s what she’d done.

  Within minutes of starting the clip, he’d seen more than he’d ever wanted to see of Summer on those satin sheets. Did she have to moan under that egotistical actor just as she had when Zach had made love to her last weekend?

  She was just acting.

  Or was she?

  Maybe she’d been acting in Bonne Terre, in Zach’s bed.

  It didn’t matter.

  He damn sure hadn’t been acting. He’d been wildly upset that he’d felt so much more than lust for her; furious that he’d experienced the same shattering, soul-deep bond he’d felt for her as a kid.

  He knew too well the destructive power of those emotions, so he’d known what he’d had to do. She’d acted hurt when he’d dismissed her, and that had gotten to him, too, but then she was an actress.

  He’d lived without her before. He could do it again.

  But then, when he’d been missing her the most, his PR guys had come up with the idea to invite her to the ground-breaking, to put a positive spin on an old story by dating her.

  His PR guys had handed him an excuse to see her again. So, he’d broken his vow to himself and called her. He’d told himself it was business; it would only be for one night; they’d be in public. He had no intention of sleeping with her again. He’d be safe.

  But he’d been lying to himself. He’d called her because he wanted her.

  Damn it, he wanted her so badly he couldn’t think rationally. Even as he’d willed himself to forget her and move on, he’d spent the week fantasizing about her lips, her wide eyes, her sweet, responsive body. He’d remembered the same soft expression on her face that he’d just seen captured on film.