Authors: Inara Scott
He leaned back against the door and frowned. “Hasn’t Lena
manipulated us all enough? We have to throw our schedule off too? No way. We’re
back on the set at eight a.m. Monday, just like we planned.”
“I only meant—”
He cut her off. “I realize you think it’s naïve, but I’d
like to believe there’s a world in which actors are professionals and can do
their jobs without letting their personal life seep through.”
“Of course they’re professionals, and of course they try
to keep their personal life out of their acting. But they’re also human.
There’s something serious between those two. You can’t discount that.”
“So you think they’re in love, and because of that I’m
supposed to change my entire film?”
She fought to keep her voice calm while frustration
coursed through her. “I never said that. But I do think love is the most
powerful emotion a human being can experience, and romantic love is
inextricably tangled up with sex. You can’t put two people who love each other
in a bed together and expect they won’t feel something remarkable. You can
barely put two strangers in a bed together and expect that.” She ignored what
her words might mean for what had just happened with Ryker and barreled on. “It
simply isn’t rational. And yes, you might have to account for that when you’re
directing a film.”
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being lectured by
you on this subject,” he said tightly.
“I’m just trying to do my job,” she shot back. “You’re
paying me to put some romance in your movies, and frankly, that’s never going
to happen as long as you insist on treating love like some kind of disease.”
“And what exactly makes you an expert on love? Last time I
checked, you were living alone in a town of five hundred with only a dog for
company. That hardly gives me confidence that you’re an expert on
relationships.” He gestured toward the door they’d just leaned against. “What
just happened here? What kind of game are you playing? One minute you’re hot
and ready, and the next you’re looking at me like I’m the devil. Explain how
someone so committed to love and sex does that.” He crossed his arms over his
chest and glared at her.
“I didn’t mean…” She stopped, needing to catch her breath.
“I just…I thought I was ready, but…”
“What’s really going on with you? You told me you didn’t
have sex for a reason. So what’s the reason? Is there a boyfriend lurking
somewhere I don’t know about? A fiancé? An ex-husband?”
The question was so unexpected all she could do for a
moment was gape silently at him.
“No,” she finally whispered. “No boyfriend. No fiancé. No
ex-husband.”
“You weren’t…” He stopped, obviously hesitant to say it
aloud.
The surge of anger that followed was so strong, Alix had
to fight the urge to smack him right across his smug, square, jaw. “No, I wasn’t
raped or abused. In fact, I slept with anything that moved for a few years.
Does that make you happy?”
“This isn’t about happy or not happy. I want to know the
truth. I want to know why you’re stringing me along.”
She gasped. “Stringing you along? Look, you bastard, the
truth is I made some mistakes in my life, and I suffered because of it. And I’m
not going to make them again. I’ve been privileged to see love in a lot of
places, shared by a lot of people. I’ve seen it at weddings, and I’ve seen it
when people are having sex.” She tried to keep her voice even, though
adrenaline was sending little tremors through her body. “Someday, I’m going to
have it for myself.”
Ryker studied her in silence, his arms crossed over his
chest. Then he swore under his breath. “Jesus, you really believe this crap,
don’t you.”
Alix had to fight the urge to drop her eyes. “Yes, I do.
You may think it’s irrational and childish, but I happen to believe it’s out
there.”
Ryker stepped forward, then back, crossing and uncrossing
his arms. Twice started to speak, then stopped. Finally, he jammed his fingers
in his pockets and swore again. “And you’re convinced you’re going to bump into
Prince Charming someday? You’ll fall in love and then into his bed? Don’t you
know how easy you would be to exploit? You’re like a train wreck waiting to
happen! Someone is going to convince you he loves you, Alix, just to get you in
bed, and then where will you be?”
“Give me some credit,” she said spitefully. “I’m not a
precious virgin, walking around with stars in her eyes. I’m an adult woman who
happens to be willing to wait for something real. And believe me, I can tell
when it isn’t. I’ve spent my life photographing it, after all. When it’s real,
it’s…different. That’s all I can say. I know it when I see it.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ryker said harshly. “I’m sorry, but you
should know the truth. This nonsense about love and sex is a lie—a lie
people tell themselves to excuse all sorts of stupid behavior. Lena’s a perfect
example. She choked under the pressure of the film, and this whole thing with
Jake was a convenient excuse for her to hide behind. I don’t know who sold you
a bill of goods, but there’s a reason you haven’t found the magic river of love
yet. It doesn’t exist.”
The venom in his voice drew Alix back. “What have you got
against love, anyway? So what if you don’t believe in it. At least it makes
other people happy. Is there anything wrong with that?”
He paced past her to a window overlooking the garden. He
rested his hands on the sill for a moment, his shoulders tight, before spinning
around to face her again. “When my mother was fifteen, she let herself get
seduced by a man who claimed he loved her. Even after she found out that he was
married, and even after she had every reason to believe he wanted nothing to do
with her or her child, she kept wishing for more. She wouldn’t teach me
Spanish, in the hopes that it would make me more appealing to him. She
bankrupted herself to put me through private school, so I could sound ‘white.’
She didn’t look at another man for ten years, because she still kept hoping
that someday my father would divorce his wife and marry her instead. All
because of that lie. So don’t tell me that it’s harmless.”
His chest heaved, and Alix stared at him, startled by the
unexpected emotion in his words.
“And what about you?” he continued. “Did love save you
from all those foster families? Where was love when you needed it? You were
deserted by everyone who should have cared for you. Life isn’t a movie, Alix.
You, of all people, should know that.”
The words stabbed through her, bringing with them dark
memories of her childhood. She pictured the boys she’d slept with, the dignity
she’d lost each time one of them had turned her away. And she remembered being
in a park and feeling the blood between her thighs. The panic at the thought of
losing the little bit of life that had lived inside her. The flood of emotions
sent tears unexpectedly filling her eyes, and she pressed her fingers against
them, hoping the tears wouldn’t spill down her cheeks.
“Shut up,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, but you’re living in a dream world, and I
think you know it. Doesn’t it seem odd that someone who says she believes in
love is a complete recluse? Maybe your problem isn’t that you believe so much
in love, but that you don’t believe in it at all. Did you ever consider that?”
“I don’t have a problem,” she said, swallowing hard to
choke back the lump in her throat. “I’m waiting for something real. There’s
nothing wrong with that.”
“You stood there tonight and let those men make fun of
you. I watched you.” He got to his feet and began to pace the room. “You know,
I went back and looked through all the press coverage of your movies and not
once did I hear you defending them as a tribute to love. Every time the camera
came your way, you dodged. You put them off, bored them, whatever, but never
once did you defend your work to them like you did to me. Why is that? Why are
you so reluctant to talk about the thing you say you believe in so deeply?”
“It’s not worth it. Not for Hollywood. But my book—”
“The book you’ve been working on for four years but can’t
finish? I heard all about it from Gunther. Did it ever occur to you that you
can’t finish the book because you know in your heart it isn’t true?”
She sucked in a breath, his words cracking in her heart
like a whip.
“No.” She spun around and wrapped her arms around her
shoulders. “No.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and focused on blocking out
his words.
“You even had to invent a new persona for yourself when
you started telling yourself lies. You turned into Alix Z so you could start
over, but what you really started to do was create a fantasy that doesn’t
really exist. Of course you can’t publish that book. You’d have to pick a name
to stick on it, for one thing. Is it an Alix Z vehicle, or something perhaps by
the old Daisy Zahn? And then you’d have to own up to the truth. You’d have to
realize that neither Alix or Daisy believes the stories you’ve invented for
yourself.”
“Stop it.” Her voice turned into a whimper. “Please.
Please stop.”
Ryker stopped, something in her words finally reaching him
through his anger. He stepped forward and tried to put a hand on her arm.
“Shit, Alix, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She shook him off. “I think you should leave.”
“But—”
“Forget it.” She stifled the tears that threatened behind
her eyes. “Just go.”
“I can’t leave you like this.”
Alix used every ounce of willpower to force an easy smile
to her face. “Like what? Listen, Gunther’s probably standing outside that door
right now, and he’s only going to be polite for so long.”
He stared at her, clearly unable to decide what to do
next.
“Forget what I said about giving Lena a break,” she
continued. “You’re absolutely right. We’ll get things back on track first thing
Monday morning.”
“Alix—”
“Drop it, Ryker,” she said, letting just a hint of steel
show in her smile. “You’re getting what you want, okay? No emotions. No crazy
female to soothe and comfort. You get to leave free and clear. So shut up and
don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
#
Ryker forced himself not to gaze in the rearview mirror as
he sped away from Gunther’s house, knowing he would only feel worse if he had
to look for one more minute at Alix’s cold eyes.
He’d been an ass. A complete ass. Even as the words
spilled out of him, he wanted to take them back. But something about watching
Alix prostrate herself before those men all night had troubled him to his core,
and by the end of the evening, he couldn’t seem to keep it in. And then they’d…well,
then he’d felt himself inside of her and had seen her face and felt the stab of
guilt so sharp it had taken his breath away.
She believed in true love. So had his mother. His mother
had defended love to him over and over. And what had it gotten her? An
illegitimate child and a lifetime of hurt.
He headed toward the freeway and pulled in behind a line
of red taillights. He turned the radio on and then off again. A truck roared
past, and he wished he could be in it, driving anywhere else but back to his
cold, empty house.
He’d never meant to lash out at her. He’d just meant to
tell her the truth. It had come out hard and angry, but he’d needed her to
understand reality. Somehow, Alix had bought into the most dangerous lie he
knew, and if she could only figure that out now, she’d save herself a lot of
pain.
But he’d hurt her. He didn’t even know what kind of pain
he’d caused her, but he knew she was hurting, and it cut him to the core.
Damn.
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. In typical
chameleon-fashion, she’d gotten herself under control with remarkable speed. By
the time Gunther had knocked on the door, there had been no hint of the pain
that had racked her body. Only that smooth, impassive mask over her face, and
her eyes, lifeless and cold.
An eighteen-wheeler blared its horn as it passed. The
driver extended his middle finger in Ryker’s direction. He looked down at the
speedometer and realized he’d slowed down to forty-five. Ryker stamped on the
gas pedal, and the tiny car shot ahead.
What if she hadn’t frozen back there at Gunther’s house?
He would never have understood how deep her emotions went. They would have had
sex. He would have brought her home and buried himself in her over and over
again. Somewhere in his groin there was a surge of possessive heat as he
recalled that moment against the door, imagined what it would have been like to
fully claim her. Make her his own.
He shook his head, dismissing his own absurd, destructive
thoughts. She would have imagined herself in love with him. Perhaps she already
did. Alix was his worst nightmare—a woman committed to the fantasy of
love. A fantasy even she, somewhere in her heart, knew was false.
One thing was clear—he must never touch her again.
From the beginning, he had thought she was offering him a game, some amusement
to distract him from the movie. Over time, she’d become an itch that simply
needed to be scratched. An itch that just kept getting stronger. The need to
capture Alix and lose himself inside her had overpowered him tonight. Even
after all that had happened, as he said good-bye at Gunther’s door he’d wanted
to keep holding her hand, to press her body against his and damn the
consequences.
He would have to make sure they weren’t alone together. As
absurd as it sounded, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to touch her
again if they were alone.
She was just a woman. He would have to keep reminding
himself of that fact. She was a foolish, love-struck, train wreck of a woman
who was looking for a fairy-tale ending. But he was no prince, and they’d all
be better off if he stayed far, far away.
Gunther motioned toward the white
couch. Alix sat, realizing from the set to his jaw that he had something he
wanted to say, and conversation was nonnegotiable. He waited until she was
seated and then positioned himself across from her, leaning backward and
steepling his fingers as he studied her.