A Scandal So Sweet

by Ann Major

  “Does the acting ever stop?”

  “Yes. Now. This is me, and I’m begging you to give me—to give us—another chance.”

  Terrified, feeling naked to the soul after asking this of him, she inhaled a long breath and waited as he considered what she’d said.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally, but the anger had gone out of his voice. “Since I was nineteen, when everything I read about us was distorted and used to hang me, I’ve worked hard to keep my private life private. There were, of course, always those reporters who wrote new stories about what I’d supposedly done to you, but mostly my life was a private affair.

  “I’ve never dated a famous actress before. Frankly, I never wanted to. But here you are—a bomb that’s gone off in my life. If we date, your career, with all its fuss, is going to take some getting used to.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that.”

  “I thought I had my life under control. It was simple. It was all about building and developing and making more money. Then I lost Uncle Zachery. And I saw your tear-streaked face and kissed you on Viola’s porch.”

  “See—your work is not so different from my roller-coaster career. Until that kiss, I lived for interesting parts and good reviews and felt like death when some critic said I couldn’t act.”

  “I don’t like feeling out of control—or in your control.”

  “That’s understandable because I hurt you before,” she whispered.

  “I don’t want this…you…us,” he growled. “You’re bad for me.”

  “Not according to your PR guys,” she whispered with a smile.

  Zach took a deep breath. For a moment, she was terrified that her little joke would backfire, that he was still going to send her away. She wouldn’t have blamed him.

  But he smiled. “I should never have listened to them.”

  “Were they really the only reason you called me?”

  “Point taken. No… But I wish I could say they were. Then maybe I could resist you.”

  “That’s not the wisest course,” she whispered.

  Very slowly, his arms gentled upon her shoulders. Wrapping her closely against him, he drew her to his bed and pulled her down onto the mattress beside him. For a long time they just lay together in the darkness growing comfortable in each other’s presence.

  His nearness calmed her and made her feel safe again.

  Then he rolled on his side and began to stroke her lips, her ears, her neck—and lower.

  “All night, at the ground-breaking, I was so miserable…because I knew you were going to send me away again.” Her words were muttered shatteringly against the base of his throat, her hands clinging to his shoulders.

  His hand traced the length of her spine.

  “I thought that this second chance was over before we’d even begun to understand what we feel,” she continued.

  “I damn sure wanted it to be over. You’re like a dangerous drug, and I’m an addict.”

  His hands were smoothing her tumbled hair out of her eyes. His lips kissed her brow lightly. Then he pulled her fully against him, so that she was pressed against his long, hard length. Again—he felt so right.

  While he petted her hair, she poured out the details of her past week in a jumble—the male members of the crew jamming the set to ogle her, a dissatisfied Sam shouting commands, the alienation she’d felt every night in her lonely L.A. hotel room when she’d longed for him to call.

  “I know people think I have a glamorous life, but sometimes it just feels lonely. One minute I’m onstage admired by thousands. Then I’m home alone—or vilified in the press.” She buried her lips against the warm hollow of his neck. “Edward couldn’t stand my crazy life, and I don’t think you will be able to stand it, either. I’m good at acting, at fantasy onstage. But so far, ever since we parted fifteen years ago, I’ve never been able to hold on to anything real.”

  “Just promise me you won’t act when you’re with me,” he said roughly.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t want to look at your face and wonder if you’re using an emotion you felt for someone else to make something work for us.”

  “I’d never do that.”

  “Okay, then.” His mouth fastened on hers with a passion that soon spiraled out of control. He stripped her, stripped himself and flung their clothes on the floor. Then he mounted her, his knees wide. Straddling her thighs, he cupped her breasts.

  She ran her hands down his lean torso. How she loved the way his body was hard and warm; how every part of him was gorgeous.

  He breathed in rapid pants, and she was just as hot for him.

  He kissed her with such desperate urgency she could only imagine he felt as she did. A foil wrapper rustled. Then, with his condom in place, he thrust inside her, each stroke deeper and harder than the last. She clung, arching her pelvis to meet his. Relentlessly, he took her higher and higher until, at the end, he clutched her close. When he shuddered and ground his hips against hers, she cried his name again and again, her release glorious.

  For a long time afterward, their bodies spent, they clung. An hour or so later she awoke to find herself still wrapped in his arms. Never had she felt closer to anyone.

  This is where I belong, she thought, refusing to consider the secrets she still hadn’t told him.

  Some time later he began to kiss her with a feverish need that fueled her own desire into an instant blaze. He licked his way down her slim body, exploring secret feminine places until she felt she was so hot and tremulous even her bones might melt.

  Don’t stop, she thought. Don’t ever stop… .

  After she recovered from the most shattering climax of her life, he made love to her again. Then they napped and made love again, and maybe again. She lost count.

  Needs she’d never experienced before made themselves known. Their bodies spoke to each other in a dark, sweet language only they understood. They said things and did things they’d never done before. Things they could only do now because trust was building between them.

  They played erotic games, with tied hands and blindfolds. Sometimes their love was rough, but mostly it was gentle. For an endless time, Summer lived in a sensual universe she shared only with Zach. It was nearly dawn when she drifted to sleep in his arms once again.

  She felt changed, as if she’d been reborn within the dazzling magic of his love.

  At eight o’clock sharp, his phone and doorbell rang at the same time.

  They sprang up groggily, laughing when they realized it was morning.

  Zach grabbed for his phone, cursing when it wouldn’t stop ringing.

  “It’s Bob! How the hell could I have been so crazy as to ever tell him eight?”

  She giggled. “You wanted me gone, remember.”

  “Strange how that seems a lifetime away.”

  He spoke much too curtly to Bob then, who said he was surrounded by paparazzi.

  “Poor guy,” she said after he hung up.

  “I’ll apologize. But later. He’s too busy keeping the screaming horde at bay.” Zach’s gleaming eyes met hers sheepishly. “Now that we’re up, we might as well make the most of it.”

  “First, I’m going to go downstairs and take a shower, brush my teeth…present a more civilized—”

  He laughed and grabbed her hand, preventing her from squirming across the sheets and running downstairs. “I don’t want civilized! I want the wicked wanton I had last night all over again, only wilder.”

  “Not possible.”

  “I’m going to prove to you that you’re wrong. You’re going to stay right here where you belong. Under me. In my arms.”

  Unable to deny him anything in that moment, she lay back and waited for him to again turn their world into a fiery wonderland that was theirs alone.

  Nine

  Summer Wallace Steps Out With Billionaire Zach Torr!

  “What the hell do you think you’re doin’, boy?”

  Nick slapped a newspaper with the tw
o-inch headline onto Zach’s desk, covering the blueprint he’d been studying.

  When Zach looked up, Nick began to read him the article in a low, sarcastic voice.

  “It seems the thirty-one-year-old actress known for her light comedy roles has revamped herself. Shortly after pirated film clips from Dangerous Man exploded all over the internet, Wallace was seen on Torr’s arm at the ground-breaking ceremony for his new casino. The couple has a scandalous history. She once charged Torr with—”

  “What is this? Read-aloud time?”

  Zach wadded the paper and pitched it into the trash. “I’ve seen it already. Read it already.”

  And he’d been sickened to have the most beautiful thing in his life described in such cheap terms.

  “You said you saw her again for the publicity, yes? Was her two-day sleepover a publicity stunt, as well?”

  “That’s my business, and hers—not yours! And certainly not the damn newspapers’!”

  “Then date another woman.”

  Zach’s voice was meticulously polite. “Look, I intend to. In the future. Right now…I’ll be seeing more of Summer.”

  No way in hell could he give her up now.

  “Tell me you’ve got more sense than to start up with her again. You know as well as I do that she’s a liar to the core of her rotten soul, yes? You had to sneak around with her in high school because her step-daddy thought you was trash. Then look what they done to you, those high-and-mighty folks, first chance that they got.”

  Zach remembered too well. He still wasn’t sure about what had been real back then between him and Summer. Hell, he wasn’t sure what was real now. But he wanted to find out.

  “People don’t change, boy. She’s probably stepped on a lot more folks to get where she is. You gonna end this or not?”

  Or not.

  Since he couldn’t reassure Nick, Zach fixed his gaze on the blueprint. The tension between them built until Martin knocked on the door of the trailer.

  “Pete’s here,” Martin said. “He thinks he sees a way to get what you want done and not go over budget.”

  “Great.” Zach turned on Nick. “I’m busy as hell. I’ve got things to do here. The costs on a project in Houston are going through the roof, so I’ve got to fly home ASAP. You and I—we’ll catch up later, okay?”

  “I’m not finished here, no. That little gal proved what she was fifteen years ago, yes. All that she ever worries about is what’s good for her. She don’t care about you. She never did. She never will.”

  Flushing with dark embarrassment to have interrupted his boss’s personal conversation, Martin backed out of the trailer.

  Zach’s face grew stony. “Look, Nick, I’ve dated a lot of women since Summer. Can’t a guy fool around?”

  “Not with her, you can’t, no. You’re not just playing with fire. She’s nuclear.”

  Zach clenched his fist around his pencil, letting go of it right before it snapped. “You’re right. You’re right.”

  “Which is why you’re madder than hell, yes.”

  “Stay out of this, Nick.”

  Grabbing the blueprint, Zach stormed past Nick and out of the trailer.

  * * *

  “No! No! No! Earth to Miss Wallace!” Paulo, Summer’s stage director, was bouncing up and down as he bounded toward her, his face purple.

  “You still haven’t got it! Quit thinking about your personal love triangle and listen to me!”

  Summer blinked first. Then she blushed. She was sick of the ceaseless teasing she’d had to endure due to all the news stories.

  “Sorry.” Rubbing her forehead, she fought to concentrate on what Paulo was saying.

  Paolo was actually a very insightful, inspiring director, one of the rare ones who really understood actors. Still, it wasn’t easy for her to take direction. She was too worried about her fragile new start with Zach and about how she would tell him about the baby. She was concerned about how all the media attention impacted him, as well. Again, the sex had been glorious. Again, she’d felt she’d shared everything with him in bed. But once they’d separated and the stories about them had hit full force, he’d erected the old walls between them. So, she was no closer to feeling the time had come for her to confide in him.

  He’d called her once, texted her twice. All three times her heart had leaped with joy. Even as his husky, but oh-so-controlled tone had made her remember all the thrilling things they’d done to each other—against the wall, on the floor, in the bed, on the chair—she’d sensed his emotional withdrawal.

  In Bonne Terre, after their night together, she’d felt so close to Zach. He’d seemed easy, open. But now he was unreachable. Really, she couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t used to life in a fishbowl. He’d said he’d hated the stories that had linked them for years.

  Rehearsals were difficult during the best of times and trying to give birth to a character could be exhausting. Summer’s head, back and feet ached from the effort. Distracted by Zach and the media storm, she’d found the rehearsals this week to be sheer torture.

  She would think about him and break character, lose her bearing. Another actor would say a line, and she would just stare at them, lost. The entire cast was out of patience with her, as she was with herself.

  She needed to get a grip before she sabotaged the show completely. At night, when she was alone in her apartment eating takeout, her obsession was worse.

  She would try to imagine living with Zach as an ordinary couple in a house with a garden and a picket fence, try to envision holidays with Gram and Tuck, dinners with friends, shared vacations, dark-haired children that looked just like Zach.

  But, always, her vision would pop like a bubble as an inner voice taunted her.

  Zach has his life and you have yours. You’re still keeping your secrets. He values his privacy, and you can never have total privacy. So—just enjoy what you have now.

  An affair such as theirs couldn’t last long, not with her secret eating at her and the world interfering and them living so far apart, not with each of them working at all-consuming careers. Added to those obstacles, there would be no way for her to leave New York on the weekends once her show started.

  She thought of Gram, who was always pressuring Summer to marry and have children, who now called constantly to express her pleasure at Zach’s renewed visitations and to express her concerns about how their story was playing out in the media and around Bonne Terre.

  “You are running out of time for children,” she would say. “He isn’t.”

  “Gram, please…don’t!”

  Gram’s advice added unbearable pressure to Summer’s already fragile situation.

  Until Zach, Summer had focused only on her career. Now when she thought of the possibility of little darlings and a more private life, she felt an eager wistfulness.

  What if Zach wanted children but saw her career and all that went with it as obstacles too large to surmount? Since he was a man, he could simply enjoy her for as long as it was convenient and then move on. He could choose a woman young enough to bear his children.

  An urge to see him again and to make love to him—to claim him in all the imaginative ways he’d taught her—filled her.

  By Thursday night, when he hadn’t called her again, she finally weakened and picked up the phone.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered the minute he answered, fighting to keep the tension out of her voice.

  Oh, why did I say that of all things?

  “I missed you, too,” he admitted, his tone polite.

  “I’m sorry about all the press coverage.”

  He said nothing.

  “I saw where you were besieged in your Houston office.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so famous.” He didn’t sound happy about it.

  “Hey, you’re the handsome billionaire. I think your money and your looks are as big a draw as I am. It’s a huge part of the fantasy reporters are trying to sell.”

  “Oh, so now it�
��s my fault, too,” he mused, but his voice had warmed ever so slightly. “When I couldn’t get into my building downtown for all the reporters, I wondered why the hell I’d ever gotten myself into this mess. It seems so cheap…what they write about us. Maybe we should take a break until all the fuss dies down.”

  When he fell silent after dropping that bomb, her breath caught painfully. For a long second, the wound from his words seemed too hurtful to bear.

  “Zach, I…I hope you don’t really want that. I know the press is a major hassle right now, and I’m truly sorry. But once my show starts, I’ll be too swamped to travel. You’ll get busy with other projects, too…. And then we’ll…drift apart… .” Her voice cracked on a forlorn note.

  “I’ve lived in the spotlight for years. It won’t always shine this brightly or be this invasive. I swear.”

  “That’s reassuring,” he said in a smart-aleck tone that somehow cheered her.

  “My PR people spend a lot of time manipulating my brand. It’s all so false. The person you read about in those stories is not me. It’s this pubic person, the actress. The real me often feels lost in all the hubbub.

  “But there is a difference. Last weekend, after the ground-breaking, was wonderful and true. I’ve never been happier in my whole life.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted slowly.

  “So, will you give us another chance?”

  “Sweetheart, who am I kidding? Don’t you know by now, that no matter how much I hate the press, I’d go crazy if I didn’t see you again—and very, very soon. I need you, even though I hate needing you. But that doesn’t kill the need. It’s fierce, unquenchable.”

  She drew in a long, relieved breath because she felt the same way.

  “I’m new to this, too,” she whispered. “I haven’t dated anyone outside the business before. Maybe we should only worry about how we are together…so that those on the outside don’t matter quite so much. What we have shouldn’t be about them or what they think. It should be about us. I want this piece of my life to belong to me and to you and to nobody else.”