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For a long time they lay together in silence. He draped his arm over her and she snuggled into him. She had to be cold in what was left of her fancy dress.
She shifted against him, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. “Aside from the adrenalin rush, what’s the best part of your job?”
He had to pause a moment to think about it. The adrenalin rush and the challenge of daring to do the impossible were the reasons he got out of bed every day. “The anonymity. I love the fact that I get to do this fun job, but at the end of the day I can go for a jog along the beach, or drink in a bar without someone sticking a camera phone in my face.”
He could tell by the look on her face that it was exactly the opposite of why she did what she did. She shrugged. “Will you help me?”
“We can talk about it in the morning.”
“As you reminded me earlier, it is the morning.”
“Then we can talk about it when we’ve both had some sleep.” He wasn’t going to make any rash promises tonight. Not with the smell of her perfume clouding his judgment and the softness of her hair tickling his chin.
Besides, she was in a heightened emotional state and who knew if she’d still feel the same tomorrow? Who knew if she’d even remember to say “thank you” to him for rescuing her tomorrow?
Not that it mattered. He didn’t go around rescuing damsels for the glory. He was just a sucker for a woman with tears in her eyes and tonight she’d had that look written all over her.
Tonight she needed a friend, someone at her side, not because of who she was and what she could do for them, but just to be there for her. He could do that.
And tomorrow…
Tomorrow had a way of taking care of itself.
Nina said nothing. Her lids hung heavy and she laid her cheek against his chest again.
He watched a satellite orbit slowly across the sky and when it disappeared from sight, he stirred, moving his aching limbs. “I should take you home before it gets light and the rest of the world wakes up.”
“I don’t want to go home. Can’t I just stay here?” She murmured.
“If you don’t mind getting some very curious stares from the early-morning beach walkers.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I’m damned if I stay and damned if I go, so home it will have to be.” She rolled away from him and sat up, reaching for her shoes. “Is my make-up smudged? If it is, we’ll need to find a restroom somewhere so I can try to fix it up. If I have to get past the inevitable cameras, at least I don’t want to look as if I’ve fallen to pieces.”
“There is another option. You could come home with me.”
She eyed him coolly for a long moment before she answered. “Thanks, but no thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me tonight, but I’m not that grateful.”
“That wasn’t a proposition. I have a guest room you can use.”
“You don’t want me?” She pouted, her big eyes rounding in a typical actress way, as if her entire being depended on being wanted and adored every moment of the day.
He laughed, hoping she was just messing with him. “You’ve had an upsetting and emotional night and I won’t take advantage of that. I don’t have many morals when it comes to pretty women, but I don’t prey on them in their moments of weakness.” Preying on their easiness tended to be way less complicated. “When I make love to a woman, it’s not because she’s grateful, or confused, or out of some misguided need for comfort. When you come to me, it’ll be because you want me.” He stood and dusted himself off. “And just for the record, of course I find you desirable. I am a man, after all.”
There was that smile again, the one that turned her luminescent and could make the strongest of men feel like a million bucks. The smile that was pure old-school Hollywood glamour.
They climbed back to the road. She straddled the bike behind him again, her body pressed up against his, her arms wrapped around his waist, and he smiled too.
The drive all the way back to Venice Beach suddenly didn’t seem so far.
Nina wasn’t sure how she’d imagined Dominic’s house, but this wasn’t it. Not the stereotypical penthouse apartment of a bachelor, all chrome and glass, but a craftsman cottage in a quiet walk street in Venice, bright-colored amid a lush garden oasis just visible now in the light tinge of dawn.
She was too tired to notice much more as she followed Dom through the house to the guest bedroom.
He hovered in the door and she turned to face him. “Thank you. For everything.”
The crooked grin curved his mouth, and it wasn’t gratitude that had her hoping he would lean in so she could feel that grin against her lips.
“For what it’s worth…” his voice was a purr that started at the top of her spine and whispered all the way down. “I’m glad you turned down Paul de Angelo.”
He pulled the door shut behind him and she found herself staring at it for a long moment, her pulse racing and her mouth dry.
Removing her make-up was a mission, with nothing more than soap and water at hand, but she managed to get rid of the worst before she shucked off the remains of her destroyed evening dress and crawled between sheets smelling of lemony fabric softener.
It was only as she closed her eyes to let sleep claim her that she remembered what Dominic had said. Not “if you come to me,” but when.
Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she drifted into sleep.
Chapter Three (#uadc93e78-42c8-51c4-b610-556e06181a5c)
The angle of the light was all wrong. Nina forced open eyelids that seemed stuck together. Her mind was awake, but her body resisted. She snuggled deeper into the warm, soft duvet with its alien scent and peered out.
Her emotions were less easy to appease than her body. As the memories of the night came crashing back, so did the disappointment, excitement, humiliation, and turmoil. But her most overwhelming sensation was relief.
She’d done the right thing.
She was so not going to be one of those celebrities who racked up marriages and divorces faster than they racked up air miles.
What had Paul been thinking? They hadn’t even met each other’s families yet. How would her family feel hearing the news of her engagement from whichever reporter first managed to track them down for a comment?
She could imagine what Gran would have to say, and none of it would be printable.
Even so, she’d probably committed career suicide last night. But she couldn’t lie in bed all day and pretend it hadn’t happened. She’d have to get out there and face the music.
She stretched in the luxurious warmth of the bed and lifted herself up on her elbows. A large room, all in white but somehow not clinical. Golden sunlight slanted through the gap in the gauzy white curtains, across the white hardwood floor and onto the four-poster where she had slept. On one wall hung a dozen pictures in matching dark-wood frames. She climbed out of bed and moved to take a closer look.
Miniature movie posters; the kind they gave away free at movie theatres on opening nights. It was a moment before she registered they were probably all movies Dominic had worked on. Not all Christian Taylor movies, though she’d assumed they always worked as a team.
On the antique bench at the foot of the bed lay a pile of neatly folded clothes with a note. Hope something fits. She lifted the clothes gingerly. A pair of ladies’ sweatpants, jeans, a couple of t-shirts, and a hoodie. She didn’t want to think too closely who they might once have belonged to. She didn’t want to think too closely about what their owners had worn to go home in either. But at least they would be more comfortable than a way-too-revealing, torn evening gown.
She showered and dressed in the grey sweatpants, a plain-white t-shirt, and the hoodie. The fact that the jeans were at least two sizes too small didn’t help her mood.
When she emerged from the bedroom, the house was eerily quiet. She tiptoed down the passage and into the open-plan living area, careful not to disturb her host if he still slept.
The living rooms were warm and homely, with scatter cushions and vases, an unexpected window of stained glass in the dining area, and a wall of framed family photos Nina didn’t look at too closely. This was nothing like the carefully styled “I’m a sensitive man” look Paul’s decorator had created, with native American art on the walls but not a personal picture in sight.
Dom’s house had a haphazard warmth and feminine touches that suggested the action man with a reputation for going through women quicker than most men went through underwear had at least one home-making woman in his life.
Nina clenched her jaw and headed for the kitchen. It took her a couple of impatient minutes to figure out how to work the state-of-the-art coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen, then she set to ransacking the cupboards for something to eat.
Dom had a surprisingly well-stocked refrigerator for a bachelor. Fruit, vegetables, pro-biotic yogurt and freshly squeezed organic juice. After last night’s decadence, she should stick to All-Bran and water, but instead, she grabbed a banana muffin and a tub of yogurt, then sat at the kitchen counter with her espresso. The house didn’t have much of a view, but the back yard was certainly pretty, enticing her to enjoy its delights. A wooden patio set stood on the small redwood deck, with a wall of lush greenery beyond. A grapevine grew across the trellis that shaded the deck, and a wind chime hummed a melody as it stirred in the breeze.
She rose to head to the sliding doors and caught sight of the wall clock. She only just managed to stifle a groan. Mid-afternoon already. Everyone she knew had to be worried sick and wondering where she was by now. At the very least her PA, Wendy, would have expected her to report in a few hours ago.
Now, where the hell was her cell phone? Nina clapped a hand over her mouth, suppressing another groan. She’d left her purse at the coat check. At the one-of-a-kind, once-off party venue, which was no doubt already being dismantled.
She could only hope some journo wasn’t going through her cell phone photos right now. Was there anything incriminating on there? Aside from a couple of no make-up selfies, she hoped not.
Using the landline in Dom’s kitchen (who even still had one in this day and age?) she called the only number she could remember off the top of her head. She hoped Dom wouldn’t object to the long-distance call.
“Hello?” Jessie’s voice sounded tentative down the line.
“Hi, Jess.”
Her sister screeched so loud, Nina had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and calling, and finally some intern from Vanity Fair answered your phone. She didn’t believe it was yours either. She was convinced an A-list celebrity would own something fancier.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “I left it at the after-party.”
“That good, was it? Did the party cheer you up, then? You sounded so down after the awards ceremony.”
So her sister hadn’t heard the biggest news of the night yet. “The Governor’s Ball was really wonderful. How did your appointment go this morning? Did it take – are you pregnant?”
Jess’s hesitation was all the answer she needed. Nina’s heart sank. How many IVFs had her sister already tried and failed?
Jess cleared her throat. “Give me all the details. How was the VF party? Who was there? Drop some names. Was it really as glamorous as it looks?”
Allowing herself to be diverted, Nina sipped a mouthful of espresso and launched into a description of the after-party as best she could. But her stomach pulled tighter as she talked. She had to get this over with. Jessie couldn’t hear from some other source. She steeled herself. “Paul proposed.”
“Shut up! Why didn’t you tell me you guys were that serious? ”
“Because we weren’t. I didn’t see it coming.” She stumbled for words. “I didn’t know what to do. He asked me in front of everyone. And I mean everyone. I said ‘no’.”
“Are you mad?” Her sister screeched again, and Nina held the phone away from her ear. Not Jessie too.
“I don’t want to marry him. I mean he’s nice and everything, but he’s not…I can’t see myself with him for the rest of my life.” She couldn’t see herself with anyone for the rest of her life. She had little enough privacy as it was. But if she was going to spend her life with someone, it would be someone who set her alight, not someone who’d eventually wear her down.
As the words of her favorite country song went, she was “better in a black dress” than in a white veil.
“You mean he’s not your One.” Jessie sighed. For someone who was constantly telling Nina how out of touch she was with reality, her sister was such a hopeless romantic.
“By saying no I think I’ve undone any good the nomination did for my career.”
“So what do you do next?”
Good question. Nina bit her lip. “I have a plan, but it’s not going to be easy and I’m a little scared.”
“You’ll be fine.” Jessie used her professional voice, the reassuring tone she used on her patients. “I know you. You’ll do whatever it takes and you’ll be great. Things always work out for you.”
If only she had the same faith in herself that Jessie did. But Jessie was the strong one, not her. Her sister was the glass-half-full kind. Nina, on the other hand, had yet to see any evidence for Jessie’s belief that everything happened for a reason. Sometimes shitty things just happened.
“Thanks, Jess. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Her next call took two other phone calls just to track down the right number. “Are you mad?” her PA, Wendy, demanded. “How could you turn down Paul de Angelo?”
This was going to be a very long day.
Nina set Wendy to track down her purse, gave her a list of things she needed and Dominic’s address, then hung up.
The last call was the one she’d been dreading most. Dane was still as cold to her as he’d been the night before, but at least he took her call. “Paul’s been busy this morning,” he said. “The press are not painting a flattering picture of you. There’s a lot of speculation that you’ve been two-timing him. You’re not going to be able to get a Hallmark movie after this.”
Well there was the upside. No more rom-coms. Maybe she could start to prove herself as a serious actress now, with roles worthy of the Alexander name.
“I’m sending Chrissie over to you. You’re going to need her help more than mine to get you out of this.” Dane hung up.
Great. So Paul had started the media machine moving while she slept. Well, there was nothing she could do about it stuck in Venice Beach, so all she could do was wait.
There was still no sign of Dominic. Either he was a very sound sleeper, or he’d gone out. Either way, she was hardly going to go upstairs to find out.
She pushed open the glass sliding door and stepped onto the deck. Beyond the wall of green she discovered another little yard, a paved suntrap patio edged with raised beds of bright-colored spring flowers. She stretched out on the sun lounger in the little garden. The golden late-afternoon sun warmed her and, unable to fight exhaustion any longer, her eyes drifted closed.
She woke with a start when a shadow fell over her. Wiping her mouth and praying she hadn’t drooled in her sleep, she sat bolt upright. It wasn’t Dominic.
A petite blonde woman stood over her, hands on her hips as she stared down at Nina. She wore her wavy, sun-streaked hair in a high ponytail. The woman pushed her sunglasses up onto her head to reveal a pair of curious, assessing gray eyes.
“Hi,” she said, sounding neither cool nor friendly. “Is Dom around?”
“I don’t know.” Nina scrambled up. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”
The blonde moved out of the sun and Nina noticed that she wasn’t as young as she’d first appeared. Tiny lines fanned out from her eyes. But she still had the figure of a teenager, and long, shapely legs that made Nina feel the rush of inadequacy that seemed to be her default setting here in LA.
“He probably went for a run on the beach with Sandy.” The woman’s mouth pursed in disapproval. “I’m going to pack away his laundry.” Casting another assessing glance over Nina, the other woman headed back indoors.
Nina followed, equally curious.
Either Dom had an unusually sexy housekeeper, or he inspired serious devotion in his girlfriends. In which case it was no wonder he seemed so disinterested in her. She was less than useless at doing laundry.
And who was Sandy – another girlfriend?
For the nearly four weeks they’d worked together in Westerwald, Nina had been cursed with the hotel suite across the hall from Dominic’s. She’d witnessed the procession of visitors he’d had. Hotel staff, women from the film crew, girls he picked up in nightclubs, dressed in skirts so short they could have caught hypothermia in the winter weather. Even her own make-up stylist had once slipped out of his hotel room at some ungodly hour, lipstick smudged and straightening her clothes.
Nina had been amazed they all seemed happy to move on with a smile, and never had a bad word for him afterwards.
She couldn’t fathom why. She’d suffered from the most irrational envy since the day they met. Most likely because she saw so little of his attention.
Last night he’d said he desired her. So why did he chase every other woman yet ignore her? What was it about her that Dom found so easy to resist, even when she’d been single and available? Was it because she wasn’t as anorexically thin as everyone else in LA?
There were shopping bags of fresh groceries in the kitchen. How the blonde was going to find place in Dom’s already well-stocked kitchen to pack them away, Nina had no idea.
She found the other woman folding freshly ironed sheets into the linen cupboard in the passage. The woman turned and smiled. “Those fit you well,” she commented, eyeing Nina’s borrowed clothes.
