Finding Mr. Right Now (22 page)

If it had been up to him, Darryl would have been toast. Anybody who screwed up that mightily deserved to be bounced. But since Darryl was the only writer available, pathetic though he undoubtedly was, Donovan had let him off with a lot of shouting. Now at least the production meeting was over. He watched Monica step through the door, rubbing her tired eyes.

A gentleman would let her go back to her room and get some rest. Too bad there weren’t any gentlemen around here.

He stepped out of the darkness. “Hey, Monica.”

She jumped, then turned toward him. “Have you been waiting there since we got back?”

“Pretty much.” He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension still coiled through her body. “Are you cold? Hang on.” He pulled the flannel shirt off his shoulders and dropped it around hers.

She shook her head, then gave him a tight smile. “No. I’m not cold. This is what I look like when I’m furious.”

He squinted at her. Her chin was trembling, and her eyes seemed unnaturally large. She also looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“For future reference, how do I tell the difference between furious and miserable?” He ran his hand up and down her arm, rubbing lightly.

She stood still for a moment, her eyes closed, then turned toward him, burying her face against his shoulder. He gathered her against his chest, feeling her shoulders tremble and wishing he could punch Darryl in the mouth.

“Oh God,” she whispered, “I was so scared. When Ronnie went down. I thought we’d finally killed someone. I thought we’d finally pulled a stunt that would get us in the record books. For all the wrong reasons.”

He held her tight against him, rubbing circles across her back. “But we didn’t. She’s got a few bruises and a dislocated finger. She’ll wear a sling for her strained wrist and look very delicate. Billy Joe and Brendan will fight for the privilege of feeding her dinner.”

“Oh cripes,” Monica moaned. “Billy Joe. Now Ronnie will probably decide that loser is her Mr. Right.”

“Why not? He ran out there and picked her up.” He touched the back of her hair lightly, the strands running through his fingers like water. “Why shouldn’t he have a shot at fame and fortune?”

“He doesn’t really care about her,” she mumbled.

Paul pushed her back gently so that he could stare into her eyes. “Monica, don’t forget what this is. You know better than that. It’s reality TV. It’s not reality.”

“I know.” She blew out a breath. “I’m just not sure Ronnie does. And Billy Joe could really break her heart.”

“The state of Ronnie’s heart isn’t up to you,” he said flatly. “The state of my heart is as well as the rest of me.”

She blinked at him in the shadows cast by the lights that surrounded the terrace. “What do you mean?”

“How far is your room from here?” A night breeze rattled the trees behind them, sending a quick scent of pine into the air.

The corners of her lips trembled, but he thought this time it was from trying not to smile. “Not far at all. Up the stairs to the fourth floor and then to the left.”

He nodded. “Why don’t we go up there and talk a little more about this?”

“You want to talk?” She really was smiling now.

“I do. Or not. I’m flexible.” He ran his fingers through her hair again, touching his palm against the warmth of her face. “But I think you could use a break. Hell, I think both of us could use a break.”

“Okay then.” She wound her arms around his neck, pulling herself on tiptoe. “A break it is. And let’s start by not talking.”

Her lips were soft and sweet. He slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth, slipping inside when she opened for him. She sucked his tongue deeper, and he felt the pressure growing at the base of his spine. She drew herself up farther, soft breasts pressing against his chest. If the temperature hadn’t been in the fifties, he was pretty sure he’d have been sweating. Hell, he was sweating anyway.

He slid his hands along her sides, feeling the slight jut of her hipbones, the indentation of her waist. “Can we adjourn to your place now?” he murmured against her ear.

“I don’t see why not.”

She took his hand, pulling him toward the doorway, then stopped so quickly he almost ran into her. “What?”

“It’s Glenn,” she whispered.

“Where?” He stared over her shoulder to see Donovan planted firmly just inside the door having what looked to be a heated conversation with Sid.

“Is there another door?”

She shook her head. “They’re standing between the elevator and the stairs. We can’t get around them.”

He gritted his teeth, pausing long enough to silently curse Donovan’s ancestors and descendants, then pulled her back against him again, running his hands down to grasp her hips.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“You. If you’ll let me.” He pushed her deeper into the shadows at the side of the terrace until they came up against the smooth cedar wall at the back. He caught her tight against him again, supporting her as her fingers dug into his hair, her mouth opening hot and lush beneath his. He managed not to groan as she sucked on his lower lip, biting it lightly then letting go.

Her head fell back and he did groan this time, pressing his face against her neck, sucking the soft flesh of her throat as he worked his way down. He could feel the hard points of her nipples against his chest along with the ache in his groin. He hadn’t thought it was possible to get this hard with nothing more than a kiss. Monica was one hell of an aphrodisiac.

He leaned forward, pushing his thigh between hers, his hand cupping her as she gasped. And then he was pulling down the zipper of her jeans, working his hand into the top of her panties, fingers sliding between her folds to find silky flesh hot and wet with desire.

“Oh my lord,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“I don’t intend to.” He pushed aside her shirt and unfastened her bra, running his lips along the warm curve of her breast to suck the nipple into his mouth.

Her fingers dug into his hair, her head falling back against the wall. And then her hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, tearing open the button and pulling down the zipper so that her fingers could pull him free, all hard aching flesh.

His finger slipped inside her, while his thumb rubbed across her clitoris. Her body arched beneath him, opening for more. She shuddered with need, so close to breaking, and he sucked hard again, teasing her nipple with teeth and tongue.

She came apart against him then, her body bucking hard against his leg as he drank her cry in another kiss. Her hand circled his cock, drawing him closer, and he froze.

“Shit. I don’t have a condom,” he whispered.

He heard the quick rasp of her breath against his ear. “It’s all right,” she whispered.

“You’re on the pill?”

She nodded quickly. “Hurry.”

He didn’t need her to urge him on. Her jeans slid down her thighs as he spread her legs wider, then pushed himself into her warm wetness, rocking forward until she took him in. She sighed as he slid home, her hands on his shoulders.

“Monica,” he whispered. “Sweetness.”

Her legs wrapped around his and he leaned forward, bracing his palms on either side of her, as he began to move. Her hips rose to meet him, bodies coming together in the darkness. He could feel the pressure mounting up his spine, pulling him further. Sparks seemed to fly behind his eyes, then explode as he plunged home. He drove into her again and then again, losing his rhythm as he lost everything else.

He managed to keep from collapsing against her, which was surprising, given that his bones had suddenly turned to water. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, trying to get air into his lungs again. “Okay?”

She nodded, then slowly raised her head, running the tip of her tongue along his chin. “Very okay. Very, very…”

The sound of a door opening somewhere to the side, brought them both upright. Paul held her against his chest, concealing her from whoever was walking across the terrace.

“God damn it, Kramer, just get it done.” Glenn’s voice boomed across the terrace as he walked toward the far door. If Sid said anything, they didn’t hear it. A door shushed closed, and they were alone again.

Monica leaned forward resting her forehead against his shoulder as she snickered. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Paul tried not to snicker himself, but he couldn’t entirely help it. After a moment he grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Next time, lady, we will be in a bed. I hereby swear.”

“Can I have that notarized?” Monica murmured.

Monica made it to the hospital by ten the next morning to pick up Ronnie. Considering that she’d been up since six and in conference with Glenn since seven, it hadn’t really been much of a stretch.

The zip line was out since Ronnie couldn’t use her injured wrist to hold on. The hot springs was still in the running, although Glenn was inclined to save it for the end, when Ronnie would be down to the final contestants. They were due to have another one of the cut ceremonies tonight, assuming Ronnie was up for it.

Monica was pretty sure Ronnie was going to cut Brendan. She seemed to find his puppy-like adoration annoying, but he’d always seemed like a decent guy to Monica.

Dim, but decent. Not unlike Ronnie herself.

Once Brendan was gone, the ending was pretty clear. Lex was an innocuous former bodybuilder with extremely nice muscles but very little in the way of personality. Monica was amazed that he’d made it as far as he had. Clearly, he’d be cut, and so would Paul.

Or anyway, she hoped it was clear that Paul would be cut. Ronnie needed to remember that he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Monica was pretty sure he wouldn’t play along in the “happily ever after” finale. Plus his job with the show was bound to come out if he was Ronnie’s choice, and that, in turn, would probably doom the show with Fairstein.

But if Paul and Lex were cut, that left Billy Joe. He’d undoubtedly play along with any finale they chose to dream up, but he’d also hit the road as soon as he reasonably could afterward. He struck Monica as the kind of guy who’d start showing up in tabloid stories with strippers and porn stars before he and Ronnie had even officially broken up.

She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said it would break Ronnie’s heart. Ronnie struck her as one of the few people on the show who still had a heart to be broken. And one of the few people who still thought the show was in the neighborhood of real.

Ronnie was waiting for her at the front desk, her arm wrapped in a black and red paisley silk scarf. She glanced beyond Monica’s shoulder, frowning. “Where is everybody?”

Monica shrugged. “You mean the bachelors? They’re waiting for you back at the hotel.”

Ronnie shook her head. “No, I mean where’s Faisal?”

Monica frowned. “The crew’s back at the hotel too. They’re getting set up for the farewell ceremony. Why? Do you need Faisal for something?”

Ronnie’s lower lip extended slightly. “I thought they’d want pictures of me coming out of the hospital. I got the nurse to find me this scarf for the sling. Don’t you think it’s cool?”

“Very nice.” Monica turned back toward the SUV, maybe if she started walking, Ronnie would follow along. “They’ll shoot your return at the hotel where it’s more picturesque.” Or anyway, she hoped they would. She had a feeling Ronnie wouldn’t be pleased if no cameras were waiting when she got back.

After a moment, Ronnie fell into step beside her. “I guess that’s okay. Did we make the papers?”

“The papers?” Monica frowned. “I guess we’ll make the local paper. I don’t know if anyone else was there. It’s a pretty small rodeo.”

“Darn.” Ronnie was pouting again. “I guess we went through all that for nothing then.”

“It wasn’t exactly a publicity stunt, Ronnie. You almost got badly hurt. We wouldn’t do that for fun.”

Ronnie shrugged. “But I didn’t get hurt. Everything turned out okay. I’ll bet the film is really something.”

Monica blew out a breath, trying to hold onto her fraying temper. Glenn still hadn’t decided whether to include the footage of Ronnie’s accident or to stick with the crowd reactions and Billy Joe’s rescue. “They got some decent film. They’re still trying to decide how much to include.”

She stopped to open the passenger door of the SUV, sliding a hand under Ronnie’s arm to help her up to the seat.

Ronnie clambered up a little awkwardly, adjusting her scarf sling as she sat. “Can I see it?”

“The film?” Monica bit her lip. The film she’d seen had been pretty graphic and more than a little terrifying. As Ronnie had tumbled forward off the washtub, the horse had seemed to come within inches of her head. It sure as hell wasn’t anything Monica herself would have wanted to see if she’d been the one doing the tumbling. “I’m not sure. Why do you want to?”

“It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to see it for myself.” Ronnie sounded very determined all of a sudden.

Monica occupied herself with pulling out of the hospital parking lot. “I’ll talk to Glenn.”

“Second most,” Ronnie said.

Monica glanced at her. “Excuse me?”