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The moon had come out from behind the clouds, illuminating the wet road in front of him. He knew this route so well in the dark, navigating from cottage to cottage by the light spilling out of the windows.
The weather matched his mood—foul and dark. He’d paced the cottage for a full ten minutes, regretting his decision to send Marlie Jenner away. Then the walls had begun to close in and he had to escape.
If he walked long enough and fast enough, he’d exhaust himself and maybe get a little sleep. His encounter with Marlie certainly hadn’t done anything to relax him. After her reaction to his invitation for a drink, he realized the mistake he’d made. He’d assumed the attraction was mutual, but she’d obviously only been flirting with him in the hopes it might help her cause. He’d misread her interest.
He’d been so long without a woman that he couldn’t even read the signs anymore. In eight months, he hadn’t even considered indulging in the pleasure of a woman’s company. And now, suddenly, he was desperate for another chance to touch her, to lose himself in the taste of her mouth or the scent of her hair.
Because in that single moment when their lips had met, he’d felt as if a door had been thrown open and the sun had shone through with blinding white light that had warmed his soul. He’d sensed his life might finally get back on track, if he could just spend a little time standing in that light.
What was it about her that he found so alluring? She was pretty, that much was evident. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. But there was something else that drew him to her. She had an innocence, a naïveté, that he usually didn’t find in the women he dated.
How easy would it be to fall into a relationship with her, and for all the wrong reasons? She was just like that bottle of sleeping pills, a drug that made all his problems disappear, a drug he’d soon come to crave, knowing all the while that he was just medicating the problem, not solving it.
Then there was the matter of professional ethics. He’d never mixed his personal life with his professional life. It was a strict rule that he and Matt had made for themselves and it was part of the reason they had been so successful. When they were immersed in a project, there were never any distractions.
And if that wasn’t reason enough, Dex couldn’t drag her into his messy life. No one, not even someone as tempting as her, deserved that. He’d done the right thing in sending her away. He needed more time to heal.
But how much more? Dex wondered. When would he start to feel this darkness lift? There were days when he could barely crawl out of bed.
And yet the moment he’d set eyes on Marlie, all of that had been forgotten. So maybe he just needed a woman, any woman, to distract him for a bit. Any woman except Marlie Jenner.
As he neared the cottage, Dex noticed a car parked on the road just outside the garden gate. He squinted in the darkness, trying to make out who it might be. Had Claire decided to drive out and keep him company? The moon emerged again and he made out the silhouette of Marlie’s Fiat.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. As he approached the car, he wondered if she’d decided to wait inside. But the cottage was dark, just as he’d left it.
He peered into the window and saw Marlie, curled up in the front seat, her eyes closed. Dex rapped softly on the window and she jerked, startled by the sound. As she looked out at him, he circled his finger, silently asking her to roll the window down.
“What are you doing out here?” he demanded.
“Waiting for you,” Marlie said, rubbing her eyes and sending him a weak smile.
“I thought we’d settled everything earlier.”
“You didn’t let me make my presentation,” she snapped. “I’m not going to let you say no until you’ve listened to what I have to say.”
Dex circled around the car, but instead of going back inside the cottage, he waited for her to unlock the passenger-side door. When she did, he got inside, settling himself into the seat.
He rubbed his hands together to warm them. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like to work with you,” Dex murmured. “I just don’t think I’d be any good to anyone right now. I’ve sort of lost my focus and I’m not sure I’m going to get it back.”
“You won’t know unless you try,” Marlie said.
“I know that I just spent three hours in the rain trying to get you out of my head.”
She drew a sharp breath and glanced away, rattled by his declaration. “Maybe you’re feeling guilty that you didn’t give me a chance?”
Dex chuckled. “What I’m feeling has nothing to do with guilt.” He twisted around in the small seat and faced her. “Tell me, why are you so determined to make this film? Beyond fame and fortune, which I can promise you, you won’t find making documentary films. So there must be a reason. Why this film? Why Aileen Quinn?”
She considered his question for a moment, as if she wanted to make sure she gave him the answer he was seeking.
“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear,” he warned. “Tell me the truth.”
She nodded. “When I was younger, I was...lost. I didn’t really fit in—with my family, with the kids in school. I felt like an outsider most of the time. Then one day, I picked up one of Aileen Quinn’s books at the library. I think I was twelve, and I was so excited that the librarian had given me an adult book. I found myself in that book. The heroine in the story was all alone in the world, but she was so strong and determined, nothing could stop her. And in the end, she made a wonderful life for herself. And I told myself that I could do the same thing.” Marlie met his gaze. “Aileen Quinn changed my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true.”
“That’s a good reason,” he murmured. “You’re passionate about your subject.”
“So maybe instead of thinking of all the reasons why you can’t do this project, you should think about the reasons why you should.”
“And what might those be?” Dex asked.
“I’ll be honest. With your name attached to the project, it’s going to get much more attention than it ever would with just my name. People will be interested in seeing it. We’ll get distribution and interest at the film festivals.”
Dex turned away, letting the sound of her voice lure him back in again. Everything she said was true. His name would open a lot of doors for her. And it wasn’t as if he was doing anything useful with his time, beyond lying around Claire’s flat and drinking far too much.
But if he did agree to do the film, he’d have to maintain the same professionalism he and Matt had insisted on. He’d have to find a way to keep his mind—and his hands—off Marlie.
“There are other guys in Ireland who could do the job,” Dex said.
“But I want you.”
He took in the stubborn set of her jaw, the determined look in her eyes, and he felt his resistance softening. The least he could do is listen to her proposal. How the hell was he supposed to say no? Maybe if he found the pitch interesting, he might consider doing the film. But if he found himself more intrigued by the woman than the project, he’d send her on her way.
After all, working might be good for him. But falling into an affair with a beautiful yet vulnerable American had disaster written all over it. And Dex had had enough of disaster lately.
“Tell me something,” Dex said. “If I hadn’t come along, were you planning on sleeping out here?”
“I guess I was,” Marlie said. She shrugged. “I had to give it one more try.” She met his gaze. “Will you listen?”
“Yeah,” Dex said. “I can’t promise you anything, except—” he paused “—except that I’m not going to kiss you again. If we’re considering working together, we need to make sure we can keep things professional.”
“Of course. There will be no more kissing,” she said. “Or touching. Because that could lead to kissing. Strictly professional.”
“All right,” Dex said. “Why don’t you grab your computer and come inside?”
“Now? You don’t want to leave this until the morning?”
“No,” Dex said. “I’m not tired. We can do it now.”
A smile broke across her face. “All right. Thank you. You won’t be disappointed. You’re going to say yes. I just know it.”
As Dex got out of the car, he realized that her prediction was probably right. He’d have a hard time saying no to a woman as beautiful and passionate as Marlie Jenner. She could ask him to strip naked and run down Grafton Street in Dublin and he’d probably do it. So if she decided to kiss him again, how was he going to stop her?
She joined him at the gate, her laptop clutched in her arms. When he opened the front door, he reached inside, flipping on a light. Marlie followed him, smiling brightly.
“I really do appreciate this chance.”
Dex helped her out of her jacket, his fingers brushing against her shoulders and tangling for a moment in her hair. The contact sent a current of desire racing through him, and he fought against the reaction.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Dex said. “Can I get you anything?”
“What do you have?” Marlie asked. “Something to warm me up would be good.”
“Whiskey,” Dex murmured. “We need whiskey. Why don’t you sit down on the sofa. I’ll get the drinks, start a fire and then we’ll see what you have to say.”
Dex wandered back to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard above the sink. He took a long swallow, letting the alcohol burn a path down his throat and warm his body. “Get a grip. She’s just a girl. Just a pretty girl.”
* * *
“SO WHAT DO you think?” Marlie grabbed her glass of whiskey and took a slip. “Please tell me you at least find this interesting. I want your creative input. I—I realize it’s not the kind of project you usually do. But it’s a wonderful story, and she’s an incredible woman. You’re going to love her and—”
Dex pressed a finger to her lips and Marlie stopped. She’d made her pitch. Now it was time to let him do the talking. So she asked, “Do you have any questions? Or comments, maybe?”
He chuckled. “I have a lot of questions. But I’m not sure I should ask them.”
“No, I want you to. Challenge me. Argue with me. I want to know exactly what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Dex shook his head and groaned. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. But it had to be said.” He turned her laptop toward him and stared at the old photo of Aileen Quinn.
Marlie watched him as he contemplated his decision. Watching the firelight dance over his face, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to lose herself in the wild sensations of desire and need that had raced through her when they’d kissed.
She couldn’t imagine they’d be able to go back to a professional relationship after that kiss, wasn’t even sure she wanted to. It had been quite a while since she’d had a man in her life. And she’d never been with a man quite as accomplished—and sexy—as Dex.
But if he felt that a professional relationship was required, she’d do her best to keep her distance.
“Miss Quinn is an interesting subject,” Dex said, “but I just don’t see a hook here. We’d just be making a filmed version of her biography.”
Marlie had held back the most interesting part of the story, hoping it might push him over the edge if he had any doubts. “Aileen Quinn had four older brothers. Shortly after she was born, her mother sent them off to different corners of the world, some with new families. Aileen just learned about her brothers last year and she’s been tracking down their descendants. They’re all gathering here in Ireland at Christmas for a big reunion, and we’re going to be there to talk to them. She’s still looking for one of the brothers, Conal, so that search will be part of the film, too. Maybe we’ll even find him.” She paused. “I was planning on using the search to structure the narrative.”
“That does make for an interesting story,” he admitted.
“And each of the heirs is getting a million dollars,” she said. “Give or take. It’s like winning the lottery. It’s changed their lives. And there are so many great stories to tell.”
He closed her laptop and rested his hand over it. “I have one big concern, though, and that’s your obvious admiration for Aileen Quinn.”
“I do admire her.”
“You have to maintain a proper distance from your subject so that you can see her objectively, warts and all. I won’t do this if you’re just looking to do a pretty story. You might have to make some tough choices, and I need to know that you’ll be able to do that when the time comes.”
Marlie shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“No one lives a perfect life, Marlie. And if you’re going to tell Aileen Quinn’s story, you need to tell the good parts along with the bad ones.”
“There are no bad parts,” Marlie said. “I’ve read her autobiography. She’s led an exemplary life.”
“Everyone has skeletons in their closet,” he said. “Our job is to find them.”
“No,” Marlie said. “I’m not going to turn this into some exposé.”
“I wouldn’t, either. I’m simply talking about discovering the truth of her story and making a movie about it. It’s all part of the person she is, and that’s the story we’re telling. The complete story. Can you do that?”
Marlie grabbed her laptop. “Yes, of course.” She could promise that. She knew that Aileen had lived a scandal-free life. Dex would discover that, and realize there were no skeletons to find.
“All right,” Dex said, getting to his feet. “I’ve got everything I wanted to know. Can I have some time to consider?”
“Sure,” Marlie said. “But not long. We’re scheduled to start shooting on Friday.”
“Friday?”
Marlie nodded. “I know it’s soon, but I didn’t think it would take this long to track you down and convince you.”
“Weren’t there any others on your short list?”
“No. Not really.”
“Well, if I decide not to do it, I’ll help you find someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else,” she said stubbornly. “I want you.”
“You’ve made that very clear,” Dex replied.
Marlie glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it was nearly 1:00 a.m. Getting to her feet, she wavered slightly, the effect of too much whiskey suddenly hitting her. “I should go. I’ve got a long drive back to Killarney.”
“You can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”
Marlie ran her hands through her hair. “You’re right. Maybe I could call a car? A taxi?”
Dex stood and took her hand, then drew her back down onto the sofa. “I think it would be better if you stay here tonight.”
“No. I don’t have anything with me, and—and we would be asking for trouble.” She glanced down at their fingers, now tangled together so tightly that she couldn’t distinguish his hand from hers.
“I’d drive you myself, but I’ve had more to drink than you have. It will be fine. You can stay in one bedroom and I’ll stay in the other.” He placed her hand on her knee and drew his away. “If we’re going to be working together, we’re going to need to get used to hanging out together.”
“You’re going to do it?” Marlie asked, her heart leaping in her chest.
“I can’t think of a good reason why I shouldn’t. And I can think of one good reason why I should.”
“What is that? And please don’t say it’s because you like to kiss me.”
“No, I believe we could make a helluva good film.”
Still, Marlie wondered if his reason for accepting her offer had less to do with her proposal than what had happened when their lips met. But if they were going to spend the next few months working on the documentary, then they’d have to trust each other.
“Yes, the film will be wonderful,” she said. “So I guess I can have my people call your people and we’ll iron out the details of a contract?”
“All right. And tomorrow morning, we’ll get started.”
