Heartthrob (13 page)

T
his time she had seen
him
naked.

Naked and in chains.

Christ.

Jed took a moment outside of Kate’s office, and took a deep breath.

How exactly should one go about greeting the woman—the impossibly attractive woman—who had witnessed the single-most humiliating moment of one’s life?

Hell, she didn’t just witness it—she was responsible for the whole bloody scenario by making him sign that damned seven-point addendum to the contract.

He sat down on the bench outside the production office door, bone weary and desperate for a drink. Not only had Kate forced him to have 24/7 supervision, but she’d gone and hired Hollander without realizing the man’s standard MO involved locking his clients in chains and handcuffs while he ran errands at night. No, Mary Kate O’Laughlin may not have intended to subject Jed to such relentless humiliation, but she
was
responsible.

She had done this to him, and Jed wanted … something.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted besides a tumbler-sized glass of whiskey. But he knew he couldn’t have that, so he figured he’d grab himself some retribution instead.

Jericho didn’t usually subscribe to the concept of revenge, but he wanted—he really wanted—to look into Kate’s eyes and know that
she
knew he’d gotten the best of her.

It was petty. It was childish. He knew that. But he didn’t care. It would taste almost as smooth as that whiskey he was denying himself.

And he knew the exact way he was going to extract his pound of flesh, so to speak.

He was going to make her want him. Instead of looking at him and seeing the loser she currently imagined him to be, she was going to see the perfect man of her dreams.

And he was going to seduce her. Slowly, patiently. Until she invited him into her bed, until they were moments away from complete sexual fulfillment, until she was begging him to make love to her. And then he’d laugh and walk away.

Or … maybe not.

Maybe he’d make love to her and then laugh and walk away. Or maybe he’d make love to her for the remaining weeks of the shoot and
then
he’d laugh and walk away.

Jed knew the laugh-and-walk-away part was essential to his plan—he just wasn’t sure exactly where it would best fit in.

Seducing Kate was going to be a piece of cake. She was lonely, she was single, she was hot-blooded—and she was already experiencing an intensely powerful physical attraction to him.

He’d seen her eyes when she’d first come into his trailer and found him sitting naked on his bed. She’d taken one look and nearly fallen over.

Jed knew exactly what he looked like. He saw himself in the bathroom mirror every time he took a shower. He
knew for a fact that he was physically quite beautiful, and he could say that honestly without any ego involved. It had nothing to do with him—nothing to do with who he was, with his achievements, at any rate.

His looks were the result of a genetic crapshoot. God knows his sister Louise hadn’t gotten the genes he had—his brother Leroy, either, for that matter. Tom had, though. His eldest brother had had both the looks as well as blond hair, though no one knew where
that
had come from.

No, Jed’s striking looks were simply another tool at his disposal. He’d used his handsome face and lean body to get noticed when he’d first tried to break in as an actor. God knows he was using it now as he attempted this comeback. Having such assets certainly didn’t hurt when it came to popular appeal.

He didn’t take it seriously, but other people sure as hell did.

People like Mary Kate O’Laughlin.

He’d looked into her eyes, and he knew that she was not unaffected by him. Hell, there was one point this morning, right before she uncuffed him, where she’d told him with body language that she wanted him to kiss her.

Now maybe that had been purely a message from her subconscious, but it didn’t matter. There was a part of her that wanted something sexual from him.

And he was going to deliver.

Yeah, he was going to get even indeed, and he was going to enjoy it on more than one level.

But there was a long road between here and there, and he didn’t just want her body. He wanted a piece of her soul. And the first thing he needed to do was figure out what kind of man she was attracted to, so he could form a character and take on that part.

Kate O’Laughlin struck him as the kind of woman who would go for blunt honesty in a big way. God knows she’d jumped right into the fray with Russell McCoy and his ex,
and read them the riot act with no holds barred. So he’d start with blunt honesty.

Jed stood up. He opened the door and walked into the production office, as ready for this as he’d ever be.

Kate’s private office was directly in front of the main entrance. Even though she was on the phone, her door was open and she saw him arrive. With a practiced, somewhat tense smile, she waved him in, pointing toward a seat.

It was amazing she could smile at all, considering the morning she’d had. First the deal with him, and then Russell McCoy …

“Yes,” she said into the phone as Jed sat down. Unlike her office in Boston, this place was purely functional. A gray metal desk, several beat-up file cabinets. A table that was cluttered with files and papers. Several corkboards and white erasable marker boards filled with information about the production.

Even though there was an air conditioner chugging away in one of the windows, Kate had a small fan on her desk. It swiveled slowly, and when the air hit her, it gently ruffled her hair.

“Yep,” she said, still into the phone. “Got it. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an important meeting and—” She laughed. “All right, then. Later.”

She dropped the phone into the cradle and turned to Jed. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m really embarrassed about this morning,” Jed said. “I’m trying hard not to be, but I’m pretty much completely mortified.” It was weird. By taking this approach, he was forced to actually be blunt and honest. And as a result, for the first time since he could remember, he was standing in front of an industry peer without attempting to hide behind his Hollywood charm. In a way, he felt nearly as naked as he had that morning.

Kate stood up and quietly closed her office door. “Thank God,” she said. “I was afraid we were going to
have to play a game where you pretended it was no big deal, and I pretended it was no big deal and … It
was
a big deal, and I’m embarrassed, too. Thank you for bringing the issue into the open.”

Jed realized she’d changed out of the shorts and T-shirt she had on this morning. She was back to her usual somewhat dressy, professional career-woman clothes—a tan skirt that ended too few inches above her knees for his tastes, high-heeled sandals, and a white blouse.

Kate’s closet had to be packed with different varieties of white blouses—and she looked damn good in every one of them. Today’s version was soft and long-sleeved, made from some kind of silky material that flowed around her and was just not possible to see through.

Although not from a lack of trying on his part. Yeah, he was definitely going to enjoy these next few weeks.

She sat down behind her desk, folding her arms somewhat awkwardly in front of her. Now, wasn’t that interesting? She didn’t like being looked at—despite the nonconservative, attention-seeking style of her clothes. Or maybe it was only
him
she didn’t like looking.

“Here’s what I figure.” Jed kept his gaze focused on her face. He was here to make friends—at first, anyway. “You know, to make it fair and all, you should go into my trailer, take off your clothes, put on the handcuffs, and wait for me to find
you.
”

Kate stared at him.

Uh-oh. That may have been a touch too direct. It was pure Jed Beaumont. And one thing he’d already determined was that Kate didn’t fully appreciate Jed’s twisted sense of humor.

But then she laughed. What do you know? She blushed, too, which he still found intriguing. “I don’t think that’s the solution.”

“Works for me. All will be forgiven—I guarantee it.”

She leaned forward slightly, holding his gaze. “Jericho,
I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I want you to know that Bob Hollander has left and he won’t be coming back.”

Jed nodded, noting with satisfaction the way her blush deepened as he purposely didn’t break eye contact. Oh, yeah. They were practically best friends already. “That’s a relief. It occurred to me as he was landing face first in the street that I’d probably armed him with everything he needed to negotiate a second chance. You know, kinda like, “I won’t press assault charges against Beaumont if you overlook my little mistake.’ ”

Kate shook her head. “That was no little mistake. He shouldn’t have left you locked up for five minutes—let alone more than five hours. Can you imagine what might’ve happened if there’d been a fire? I feel sick just thinking about it.”

She wasn’t kidding. She was really upset by this. It was a shame her desk was too wide for him to reach across and take her hand. “Yeah, well, it’s over now. It’s behind us.”

This was going really well. On Monday, he’d ask her to have dinner with him. Until then, he’d have three days to cement this friendly rapport they’d established through his newfound blunt honesty and Kate’s sense of guilt. By Monday, she’d be ready for him to introduce a hint of romance and …

“It does leave me in something of a jam,” Kate admitted. “It took me four weeks to find Hollander and get his background checked. I’m not sure even where to look to find a replacement.”

He stared at her. “What?” A replacement? For Hollander?

“I really don’t want to make the same mistake. On the other hand, this isn’t a position I’m willing to entrust to one of the gofers—as if they didn’t already have enough to do.”

Jed pushed both Monday and dinner completely out of
his thoughts. “Wait, you’re not serious, are you? God, you
are.
”

She looked confused. “Serious about …?”

“Hiring a replacement for Bob Hollander!” Jed couldn’t keep his volume down. It was all he could do to keep the four-letter adjectives out.

She recoiled slightly from the force of his words, but otherwise stood her ground. “Oh, Jericho, you didn’t honestly think I wouldn’t replace him?”

“Yes, I did. After last night’s disaster—”

“Our funding is based on the terms of the agreement you signed,” Kate told him. “Production would be shut down so fast if word got out—”

“Word wouldn’t get out. For christsake, half of the crew thought Hollander was my lover.”

Kate laughed—a burst of uncontrolled emotion. “Oh, my God. They did?”

“No one knew why he was sharing my trailer, and
I
sure as hell didn’t tell ’em the truth.” Jed ran his hands down his face as he took a deep breath. Shouting about this was going to get him nowhere. “Look. Kate. What do I have to do to convince you that I’m not going to put this film into jeopardy?”

She was already shaking her head.

“How about we make a deal? How about you waive my twenty-four-hour supervision for the remainder of the shoot, and I won’t press charges against O’Laughlin Productions for last night’s incident?”

It was her turn to be shocked. “Press charges?” She laughed in disbelief. “Weren’t you just the one who said everything that happened is over now? It’s behind us?”

“Obviously it’s not behind us if you’re gonna insist on hiring another Nazi to follow me into the bathroom whenever I have to take a crap.”

Kate was watching him as if she were trying to figure out the best way to crawl into his head and read his
thoughts. “You don’t want this story playing on CNN’s Headline News any more than
I
do.” She pushed her telephone across her desk toward him. “I’m calling your bluff, Beaumont,” she said, her velvet voice in direct contrast to her steely words. “Go ahead. File charges. And in case you haven’t thought it through, you should probably be aware that the media feeding frenzy and all the negative attention that will follow violates terms six and seven of our agreement. You’ll be in breach of your contract, and you
will
lose this role.”

Jed didn’t let himself blink. He didn’t let anything he was thinking show as he reached for the phone and dialed. “So I’ll lose the role. I’m past the point where I give a damn,” he lied smoothly. “Hell, I’ll earn far more than union scale in the settlement. And you know there
will
be a settlement.”

Out in California, his agent picked up the phone. “Stapleton.”

“Yeah, hi, Ron, it’s Jericho. Sorry to call you so early, but we’ve run into a little problem out here that I thought you should know about and—”

On the other side of the desk, Kate couldn’t stand it any longer. She jumped up and grabbed the telephone receiver away from him. “Ron, Jericho’s going to have to call you back.”

Breathing hard, she hung up the phone, then turned to glare at Jed. “God
damn
you.” For one long, stretched-out moment, Jed thought she would pick up the phone and throw it at him. “You’re an actor. You’re probably the best actor I’ve ever met. And that really sucks when it comes time to negotiate with you, because I never know when you’re acting and when it’s real.” Her eyes narrowed. “But it’s not real, is it? I jumped the gun, didn’t I? You might’ve told Ron about what happened, but you weren’t going to do anything about it.”

She pointed her finger at him. “I know you’re not doing
this for the money. I know you’re here because you want this part. You know and I know that you could kill this entire movie right here and right now. You can call your agent, and yes, we’ll probably settle out of court. And you can get even more revenge, because the legal fees’ll wipe us out. You’ll shut this production down. Except—as long as we’re threatening each other here—be assured that if you were to do this, the entire world would find out that you signed a contract admitting that you required around-the-clock supervision—”

“I didn’t admit anything by signing that—”

Kate didn’t stop, she just got louder, shouting over him. “And the producer of your next project—assuming that there is a next project—will think, Gee, that’s a good idea, and he’ll cover his ass the way I covered mine, and you’ll find yourself right back where you started, peeing into a cup every morning and having your trailer searched every night. Except next time around, who knows what lousy role you’ll have to suck up and take? All I know is that it won’t be a role like Laramie.”