Passionate Premiere

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Zahara giggled softly. “We should have met sooner. I can’t believe our paths haven’t crossed before now.”

  “I agree. I was hoping to meet at the table reads. I’m sorry you missed them.”

  “I never do table reads. Too much rehearsal and you lose the freshness of a role. I like the spontaneity, most especially with a romantic lead.” She took a step closer to Guy. “I can already sense that you and I have great chemistry. I assure you it will play so much better on camera if we don’t overwork or force it.”

  Guy’s smile was smug. “Well, I’m excited. Let’s get to work then and see what kind of magic we can make together,” he enthused.

  Zahara grinned broadly. She suddenly remembered that Dahlia was standing between them, still holding out the red dress that she’d discarded. She took the dress from Dahlia’s hands and held it up in front of her.

  Guy’s enigmatic smile was consuming. “Actually, I think red will look wonderful on you,” he cooed. “But I’m sure you’ll be stunning in anything you wear.”

  With a soft giggle, Zahara fluttered her eyelashes. “You’re right. I can make anything look good. Even this old thing!” she chuckled, tossing a quick glance in Dahlia’s direction.

  “Well, we’ll let you get ready,” Dahlia said. “I’ll see you on set in an hour or so.”

  Guy kissed the back of Zahara’s hand once more. “See you soon, Passionate.”

  Zahara blushed excitedly, giggling at the attention as she gave Guy her best pageant-queen wave.

  As the couple stepped back into the hallway, closing the dressing room door behind them, Guy shook his head. “You mean putty like that?” he said, leaning in Dahlia’s direction.

  She fell back against the wall, her breathing coming in short gasps as Guy hovered above her, his body teasing hers as he stood too close for comfort.

  “They’re waiting for you in wardrobe and makeup,” Dahlia whispered, her eyes dancing from side to side as she looked to see if anyone was watching them. She pressed a palm to his chest and pushed him away from her. “And I need to get to work. Professional, remember?”

  Guy smiled and moved closer. “Well, as soon as I’m finished shooting today and you’re done doing your directing thing, I’ve made plans for us.”

  “What kind of plans?” Dahlia asked, clearly distracted by the nearness of him and the hand that was drawing small circles against her bare arm.

  “Me and you plans,” he answered. He kissed her forehead, his lips like warm pillows against her skin. He winked an eye as he stepped back, allowing a cool breeze to blow in between them.

  Dahlia inhaled deeply, then let the warm air escape past her lips. “You are determined to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?”

  Guy laughed. “Why, Ms. Morrow, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he moved toward the door with his name on it; a bright gold star gleamed for attention against the hard wood.

  As he disappeared behind the closed door Dahlia stared in his direction. It was becoming increasingly difficult to resist Guy. Every ounce of her wanted to bare herself open to him. But it wasn’t the time or place for that, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to take their relationship to that level. She knew that she would eventually have to explain her reasons for holding back and make him understand her reservations. And she knew that that conversation with him would have to come sooner than later. Dahlia collected herself and headed down the hall in the opposite direction. She had a movie to make, and when all else failed her, she knew that she could always depend on the work that she loved most.

  * * *

  “Quiet on the set!” Dahlia shouted, pausing until the noise level dropped. “And action!” she cued, pointing an index finger toward Guy and Zahara.

  Within minutes everyone in the room was lost in the scene playing out on set; Guy and Zahara fueled each other’s creative energy. Dahlia felt herself gasp as Guy grabbed the other woman’s arm and pulled her across the room, Zahara steadfast in her determination to resist his efforts. Watching him, Dahlia was struck by Guy’s vulnerability, his ability to expose himself so unabashedly. His performance struck a chord deep in her spirit, and she found herself wanting to rush in and hold him, to take every ounce of his hurt away, even if it was just pretend.

  Over the past few weeks she’d come to enjoy the romantic candlelight dinners, strolls along the Venice canals and shopping on Ventura Boulevard with Guy. Guy Boudreaux had to be one of the most romantic men she’d ever spent time with. He lavished her with time and attention, and when they were together, everything around them seemed to disappear. And with each second that they shared, Dahlia realized she was falling head over heels in love with Guy Boudreaux.

  His loud cries brought her back to the moment as his character pleaded for Passionate to come back to him, beseeching her not to break his heart. The scene was emotional and challenging, and despite Zahara’s diva antics there was no denying her natural talents or the blatant chemistry between her and her leading man. Witnessing them play off of one another was dynamic, and Dahlia could only begin to imagine how it would read across the big screen. Her eyes moved from the camera’s monitor to the performance in front of her, noting the tears that had risen in Guy’s eyes. She gestured with her hand to her eyes and an astute cameraman zeroed in on Guy’s face, the close-up shot magnifying every ounce of emotion he was invoking.

  Silence filled the space, nothing ringing through the room but the soft echo of Guy Boudreaux’s pleas and the harsh tone of Zahara’s admonishments; both actors had delivered their lines with an air of perfection. Dahlia couldn’t fathom a second, third or fourth take being as powerful or as moving. The two had nailed it with their first shot.

  “Cut!” Dahlia yelled, her gaze shifting from the monitor to Guy’s face as the crew erupted with applause. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him take a deep breath, then a second, shaking himself out of character. Guy must’ve sensed her staring because he lifted his eyes to hers and smiled, tossing her a wink of his eye just as his makeup person rushed in to powder the perspiration from his face.

  Dahlia swallowed hard as she looked away, color heating her cheeks. As she focused her attention elsewhere she didn’t notice Zahara studying her, and him, intently.

  Chapter 12

  Dahlia would have gladly stayed late to work on her film, but Guy had insisted she lock the studio doors the minute they were done filming for the day. He’d teased her with promises of a surprise that would need her full and undivided attention. Unaccustomed to being ambushed by plans she’d not made for herself, Dahlia was intrigued by the secrecy and the prospect of being waylaid by a man as sexy and as imposing as Guy.

  As she made her way down the studio’s steps, headed in the direction of the parking lot, she saw that Guy was parked at the end of the ramp. He grinned widely from a brand-new Jaguar XK convertible; the top was down and the front black leather seats reclined. He was casually dressed and appeared comfortable, a far cry from the resolute personality who’d poured his heart and soul out in front of her cameras just hours earlier. His broad grin was contagious, and she began to smile from ear to ear, as well, before easing her way into the passenger seat of his car.

  “Nice ride,” Dahlia said merrily.

  “I know,” Guy said with a deep chuckle. “And thank you.”

  “So, where are we headed?”

  Guy shrugged. “You needed a night out and I figured I’d give you one.”

  “What I need to be doing is working.”

  “You work too much! And you don’t play nearly enough. I’m here to make sure you play more.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “I get the impression that you play way too much.”

  “Only after I get my work done.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Dahlia said smugly. “You still haven’t tol
d me where we’re going.”

  Guy laughed warmly. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax and do this my way, please.”

  Dahlia thought about arguing with him, but she didn’t. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and settled down into the soft leather seats. She had to admit that it did feel good to sneak away for a brief moment, with nothing on her mind to contemplate but a good time with a great-looking guy. She reclined her seat a bit more, settled back, closed her eyes and allowed the breeze to blow gently through her hair.

  Guy cut an eye in her direction, smiling as she feigned disinterest—the not knowing, the not being in control, was clearly eating away at her. She was beautiful the way she pouted, pretending not to care. He slid his hand against the dashboard and turned on the radio. An old Alexander O’Neal classic filled the space, the crooner seeming to sing a love song that had both their names written all over it. Guy nodded his head in time to the beat, glancing at her a second time. As if sensing his thoughts, Dahlia opened her eyes to gaze back at him.

  “What?”

  Guy shrugged, his smile shining brightly. “Nothing. What?”

  Dahlia giggled, closing her eyes again. As she sat there she couldn’t help but think that it was a dangerous game the two of them played, touching with their eyes, avoiding the want that lingered like a thick cloud. Both were fighting to resist the temptation between them.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” Dahlia said suddenly, her eyes flying open.

  “What’s that?” Guy asked, a warm palm dropping against her thigh. Her breath caught deep in her chest at the heat of his touch. His fingers burned hot against the flesh beneath her denim slacks as he kneaded her leg gently. His touch was affectionate and caring, warming her spirit.

  As she met his gaze she dropped her hand against his, entwining their fingers tightly together. Guy lifted his forearm, bringing the back of her hand to his lips, and placed an easy kiss against her skin. Dahlia enjoyed the sensations sweeping through her.

  “I need to tell you...talk about...me...us...” she stammered, searching for words that made sense to her. Wanting to explain her reluctance to move their relationship where it seemed destined to go. Guy stalled her.

  “Hold that thought. We’re here,” he said, excitement simmering in his tone.

  Dahlia took in her surroundings, sitting up as she looked around. A large sign gleamed with fluorescent lights, the billboard for the Devil’s Night Drive-In theater greeted them. Dahlia laughed out loud.

  “The movies? Really?”

  “Not just any movie, Dahlia. The drive-in movies,” Guy exclaimed excitedly. “And it’s a double feature.”

  Dahlia smiled. “And you thought I’d love coming to the drive-in movies because...?”

  “Aren’t you a filmmaker?”

  She laughed.

  “Do you know any filmmaker who doesn’t like movies?”

  “You’ve got a point. So what’s playing?” she asked as Guy handed his prepaid tickets to the man at the gate, then maneuvered his car to the top of the two-story parking structure in downtown Los Angeles. As he searched out a parking space near the front of the twenty-four-foot-by-eighteen-foot projector screen, she noted the DJ spinning music near the concession stand.

  Pulling into a prime spot, he adjusted the speaker so it hung from the car door. Seconds later, a carhop on Rollerblades skated over to take their order of hot dogs, popcorn, soda and a large box of candy.

  When everything was delivered, Guy reached into the backseat, and Dahlia noticed a small cooler for the first time.

  “What’cha got there?” she questioned, swallowing a bite of her hot dog.

  Guy winked as he pulled a bottle of champagne that had been cooling on ice to the front seat.

  “You don’t know nothin’ about this,” he said teasingly.

  Dahlia laughed. “Champagne? With candy?”

  “Champagne goes with everything,” he said with a hearty laugh.

  Dahlia shook her head, unable to contain her own laughter.

  Two hours later, Dahlia was cuddled close against Guy’s chest as Hitchcock’s classic film Psycho came to an end. Guy had enjoyed teasing her as she’d watched most of the movie from behind her fingertips.

  “You know I’m going to have to tell people about this,” Guy said jokingly.

  “I hate horror movies,” Dahlia countered.

  “But they’re not real.” He laughed.

  “I still hate them,” she said. She pulled the bottle of champagne from his hand and swigged the last drop. “I can’t believe you drank the whole bottle.”

  “Me! You were the lush tonight.”

  “I am not a lush,” Dahlia professed, turning slightly to rest the empty container back in the cooler. As she turned, her right breast grazed his arm. She blushed profusely and was suddenly reminded of the conversation they needed to be having.

  Guy was acutely aware of the soft curve of flesh that grazed his upper arm. If only she knew how much he wanted to wrap his fingers around the lush tissue and tease her nipples until they were hard candy. A surge of heat blazed through his groin. He shifted his body, fighting to stall the rise of nature.

  Leaning forward, he pulled his arm from around her shoulders. “We should probably put the top up,” he said as he pushed the appropriate buttons, moving the car’s roof to ease back into place. After turning the key in the ignition, he rolled up the car’s darkly tinted windows.

  “I didn’t realize how cool it’s gotten,” Dahlia said, anxious for conversation.

  “Do you want me to turn the heat on?” he asked, moving his arm back around her shoulders.

  She shook her head. “No, this is comfortable,” she answered as she cuddled back against him.

  A pregnant pause settled awkwardly around them until Guy broke the silence.

  “Dahlia, you know how much I care for you, right?”

  She nodded. “I care for you, too,” she muttered. She gazed up at him, meeting his intense stare.

  “I’m having a great time with you,” he continued.

  She nodded. “Tonight’s been a great night.”

  Guy hesitated a second time, unable to find the words to say what he was thinking. To hell with words, he suddenly thought, thinking that he was feeling much more for Dahlia than he was willing to admit. He pulled her closer to him, leaning to kiss her lips.

  Dahlia’s response was restrained as she brushed her lips against his and then pulled away, looking nervously around the parking area.

  “No one can see us,” Guy said, reading her thoughts. “Not a soul can see inside the car. That’s why I put the windows up.”

  “And here I was thinking you were being chivalrous, making sure I wasn’t cold.”

  “I was being gallant. I was making sure I could kiss you without an audience,” he said as he kissed her a second time, his lips dancing slowly against her mouth.

  “I guess you forgot about the front window, huh?” Dahlia said sarcastically, pointing with her index finger.

  Guy laughed. “Nope!” He reached into the backseat and lifted a portable car sunscreen into his hands. When he’d fumbled the cardboard contraption into place, their front view completely blocked, he turned his attention back to Dahlia. “I have everything covered!” he exclaimed as he pulled her back into his arms and resumed kissing her.

  Lost in the embrace, Dahlia closed her eyes, giving in to the sensations, the champagne dulling her senses.

  “We shouldn’t,” she started, her efforts to deny her desire futile.

  “We’re not,” Guy muttered against her mouth, his tongue moving in sync with hers.

  Dahlia was suddenly aware of his hands skating over her shoulders and down her back. She felt him tug at the sides of her blouse, pulling it out from inside he
r jeans. He slipped his large hands up under her top, running his thick fingers against her back. His fingers slipped upward, determined to unsnap the hooks on her bra. Guy couldn’t help but wonder who would have invented such a torturous device, causing a man more pain than a woman. When the strap finally slipped apart, he let his fingers caress her bare back, his touch hot and intoxicating. Dahlia moved closer against him as he slipped his hand from beneath her blouse and began to unbutton its pearl buttons.

  Dahlia grabbed his wrist, holding it lightly. She wanted to stall his eager search but couldn’t move herself to tell him no. His fingers were intent on getting the buttons undone as he continued to kiss her hungrily. Once his mission was accomplished Dahlia knew that he would slide her blouse and bra from her body. And despite her sensibilities telling her to stop, Dahlia didn’t want to.

  She reached out and began to lift his T-shirt. Their lips parted and they separated only long enough for her to pull off his shirt. With her own buttons undone, Dahlia let him slip her blouse off, allowing it to fall to the floor beneath her feet. Her bra followed. They kissed again as Guy pulled her back to him, one hand moving his seat to a reclined position so that Dahlia fell across his chest, the softness of her breasts pressed against the lines of his hardness. She inhaled swiftly, unnerved by how wonderful it felt, skin against skin, heat sweeping between them.

  Dahlia kissed her way across his cheek, slipping slightly downward to nibble on the side of his neck, over to his ear, sucking on the tender flesh. He sighed with approval as she kissed her way back across his neck, tilting his head back to make her access easier. She couldn’t begin to believe how brazen her behavior was; her forwardness was completely out of character.

  As she thought about it she was suddenly anxious, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Pulling back, Dahlia crossed her hands over her chest, shielding herself from view. Guy moved his head to signal no, and grabbed both of her wrists, placing both palms against his waist. He kissed her lips, a quick peck, and then nuzzled his face into her neck, his mouth moving downward. When his lips touched the top of her breasts, each kiss was followed by a lick, his tongue teasing the outer edges of one breast and then the other. His tongue worked in tight circles, bathing the sweet flesh as he worked his tongue slowly toward the dark chocolate nipple until he was just circling around the hard bud. A soft moan rose from Dahlia’s throat as he suckled her gently. The moan increased in volume as he drew the hard nipple between his lips, drawing it in deeply as he used the tip of his tongue to rub against it.