Overnight Sensation (22 page)

Ivy stared at him, wanting desperately to believe him. “But my being cast in this film…”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Finn is my brother-in-law.”

“What?”

“He’s married to my sister, Savannah. I stayed with them while I was recuperating. However, the idea to turn my combat experiences into a movie was strictly his.”

Ivy pulled free from his grasp, struggling to digest what he’d said. “Nevertheless, the decision to cast me in this role was yours. Not Finn’s.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. And she knew from his face that she was right. Her mind spun with the ugly implications. “Maybe I should be grateful to you for providing me with this opportunity,” she said, rubbing her hands over the goose bumps on her bare arms. “Maybe you think you’ve fulfilled your promise to Devon by helping me out. But how can I feel good about something I didn’t earn? Finn didn’t offer me this role because he believes in me—”

“I believe in you.” He took a step toward her, his eyes seeming to glow with an inner fire. “Doesn’t that count for something? And let’s face it. Finn would never have agreed to bring you on board if he didn’t think you’d be perfect for the part. End of story. I may have steered him in your direction, but the final decision was his and his alone.”

“I wish I could accept that. But at the moment, I’m not sure what to think.” Ivy pressed her fingers against her temples. “It’s like this whole thing was an act.”

“You said you were falling in love with me,” Garrett told her, his voice insistent. “That wasn’t an act. And these past two days together…they weren’t an act either. You can’t look at me and tell me you think I was just using you.”

Ivy blinked. He was right. None of it had been an act. She’d never felt as real as she had in Garrett’s arms. Even now, the look in his eyes threatened to undo her. His admission that he’d been attracted to her since the day he’d first seen her turned her insides to complete mush. She knew enough about the entertainment industry to understand that getting her onto this movie set couldn’t have been easy. That in itself was a strong statement about his feelings for her. And it was just like Devon to appoint a guardian to watch over her after he died. Garrett would have had a hard time refusing him. It was almost enough to make her forgive Garrett.

Almost.

But then she remembered how Eric Terrell had treated her when she’d first arrived, as though she wasn’t worthy to work alongside him. She thought of Finn MacDougall, one of the greatest directors in Hollywood, casting her—a virtual unknown—in the lead female role. She recalled again what he’d said to her during that first awful attempt to shoot the love scene: I brought you onto this project with some reservations, but you came so highly recommended that I decided to offer you a chance.

She didn’t have to guess who had recommended her so highly. It was too humiliating even to contemplate.

“I did say I was falling in love with you,” she began slowly, “but the truth is, the guy I was falling in love with turned out to be just like all the other guys I fell for—a fraud.”

Garrett went still and a muscle flexed in his jaw. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Ivy swiped a hand across her eyes, feeling deflated and weary. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” She brushed past him without meeting his eyes, and paused with one hand on the screened door. “Look, I understand your intentions were good, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we should continue…whatever it is we’ve been doing here.”

“I meant what I said.” His voice was rough. “What we have together is real, Ivy.”

“But that’s just it, don’t you see?” When she looked at him, his image wavered, and she realized she’d started to cry in earnest. “If you knew me—really knew me—then you’d know how important it is for me to do this on my own. My God, here I thought I was brought into this project because somebody had finally recognized and appreciated my talents as an actor. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—to make it on my own merit. And you took that away from me.”

“Ivy—”

She threw up a forestalling hand and gave him an imploring look. “No, don’t say anything, please. I—I just have to go.”

She left, walking swiftly out of the cabin and along the path that led to the hacienda before he could say something to make her change her mind and stay.

He didn’t follow her.

As she made her way toward the hacienda, her mind turned over everything he’d told her. He’d shared a room with Devon. He’d watched her place the photo on Devon’s chest. She’d had an uncanny sense of familiarity since the moment she’d first met Garrett on that rain-drenched roadside in Pancho Viejo, but she’d never have guessed who he was.

That one moment when their eyes had met hadn’t been significant for her, but it had been for him. He’d kept her photo. He’d followed her career. He’d arranged for her to be cast in a role that any number of A-list actresses would have given their eyeteeth for. He’d said there hadn’t been anyone else for him since he’d first laid eyes on her.

It was so clear to her now. He loved her.

She stopped at the entrance to the hacienda. She was an idiot to even think twice about why she’d been chosen for the part. The simple truth was that here was a man who thought enough of her to make her dreams come true. He’d said he believed in her. If she really loved him, that should be enough.

She realized it was.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped her cheeks and tried to compose herself before she walked—okay, ran—back down that path to his cottage and flung herself against his chest.

“Hey, sweetie, what’re you doing out here? I saw you leave with Mr. Military Badass and I figured that by now, he’d be showing you his…tattoos.”

Ivy turned to see Carla strolling toward her from the parking lot, where the small shuttle bus had just dropped off several members of the film crew. Ivy forced herself to smile, hoping the darkness concealed her reddened eyes.

“He doesn’t have any.”

“Are you sure? No heart tattoo with Helena scrawled across it?”

Ivy smiled uncertainly. “I’m sure. Besides, that relationship ended when he was airlifted out of Colombia. Despite what the script implies, they didn’t actually see each other again after he was rescued.”

Carla frowned. “Really.”

“Really.”

“Well, then he’s in for quite a surprise.”

An unaccountable dread gripped Ivy. “Why?”

“I just overheard Finn talking with the associate directors. It seems Helena Vanderveer is ill. She’s leaving Colombia and returning to Amsterdam for treatment. But first she’s stopping here to see Garrett. It appears she wants a reunion with her rescued soldier.”

Ivy’s heart stopped. She felt the color drain from her face. She knew Garrett loved her; she knew it with every fiber of her being. But the news that Helena would be here—in the flesh—caused her chest to constrict with fear.

What if he saw Helena and realized he was still in love with her? Maybe he’d decide to go to the Netherlands with her to support her through her illness, to be there for her the way Helena had been there for him.

Oh, God, could it get any worse? She tried desperately to recall what horrible things she’d said to Garrett in those emotionally charged moments before she’d fled his casita. Had she given him the impression they were through? She groaned silently as awful recollection flooded back. She’d called him a fraud. She’d denied that what they’d shared was real. She’d pushed him away from her, and now she had to face the possibility that she may have succeeded in pushing him right into another woman’s arms.

She pressed her fingers against her eye sockets, only distantly aware of Carla watching her. She couldn’t think straight. She felt sick to her stomach. If Garrett chose to go back to Helena, she’d have no one to blame but herself.

Smoothing her hands over her face, she looked at Carla. “When is she supposed to arrive?”

Carla’s expression was apologetic. “Tomorrow.”

IVY PERCHED ON THE edge of her bed and drew in a deep, calming breath. Morning sunlight slanted through the casement windows and the vibrant trill of a songbird filled the room. Despite a hot shower and a fresh sundress, courtesy of Carla, she felt exhausted and a little ill from lack of sleep.

With a sigh, she unfolded the crumpled piece of paper she held in her hand and smoothed it out on the bed. It was the call sheet that Franz Keller had handed to her the day before, and per the schedule, she had less than two hours before she had to be on the set, which meant she really should be heading over to hair and makeup.

Had it really been less than a day since her awful confrontation with Garrett? Since she’d learned that Helena Vanderveer was on her way to the movie location? An eternity seemed to have passed since Garrett had taken her up against the wall of his casita, making her lose control of herself.

Again.

She hadn’t returned to his cabin. Hadn’t trusted herself to behave with any level of dignity. She’d been too afraid she’d break down and beg him not to leave her. She’d been even more afraid he’d reject her. When she finally confronted him—and she had every intention of doing so—she wanted to be strong and in control. She just needed to summon the courage to see him. She understood why he’d done what he had, but at the same time, she had to make him realize how important it was that she succeed on her own.

She wondered if he’d come to the shoot. The cowardly part of her hoped he wouldn’t be there to oversee filming of the scene, while the womanly part of her longed to make things right again between them.

She pushed herself to her feet and peered critically into the mirror. Her face was pale. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from a sleepless night where she’d alternately wallowed in self-pity and railed against the poor timing of the Dutch missionary’s reunion with Garrett. The one thing she hadn’t done was sleep.

Fingering her hair into a semblance of order, she wondered if Helena had arrived yet. What did she look like? Had she and Garrett already had their happy reunion? Ivy imagined them in his cabin, their hands all over each other, before she determinedly pushed the images out of her head. She had no reason to believe Garrett would still be interested in the missionary, but the only way she would know for sure was to see him.

God, she needed to see him.

She grabbed her tote bag, flung it over one shoulder and opened the door. As she descended the curving staircase that led to the foyer, voices drifted up to her. She recognized Finn’s distinctive baritone, and hurried the last few steps, hoping to speak with him in private before he left the hacienda. He maintained an aggressive personal schedule that often made catching him alone difficult.

He was sitting at a small table in the breakfast room adjacent to the lobby, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper. It was such a departure from his typical routine of grabbing a coffee and yogurt to go that Ivy hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should disturb him. Josephina was clearing away the remnants of his breakfast, along with two other place settings.

He glanced up as she approached.

“Ivy,” he said, half rising to his feet. “Join me for a cup of coffee. I was hoping to talk to you before the shoot today. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we have a visitor I think you’ll be interested in meeting.”

She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Yes, I’ve heard,” she said dully. “Helena Vanderveer.”

His bushy eyebrows rose fractionally. “Oh. Well, that’s great you know. Actually, you just missed her. We had breakfast together.”

Ivy eyed the dirty dishes in Josephina’s hands. Now she knew that one of them had been Helena’s. Had the other one belonged to Garrett?

Ivy leaned forward. “Finn,” she said, her voice low and earnest, “I need to ask you a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Wariness crept over his face. “Sure. But if it’s about yesterday’s shoot, I meant what I said. It was sensational.”

“Thanks.” She looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap, then back at him. “I’m glad to hear you say that, because I heard…”

“Yes?” His expression was cautious. “What did you hear?”

“That you only brought me onto this project as a favor to Garrett Stokes, not because of my acting abilities,” she blurted. There. She’d said it.

To her astonishment, Finn started to laugh. Then, seeing her face, he brought his napkin to his lips and coughed into it, instead. When he could, he set the linen down and looked at her tolerantly.

“Let me tell you one thing about myself, Ivy. I never, ever allow an actor to be cast in one of my films without my approval. I watch every audition, I look at every screen test and I review every past project. Furthermore—” he leaned toward her, his eyes growing hard “—I would never compromise my integrity or my project by casting somebody strictly as a favor to another person, even if they were the most talented actor in Hollywood. Got that?”

Ivy swallowed. “So you’re saying it’s not true. You brought me on board solely because of my own merit as an actor.”

He arched an eyebrow, and a hint of a smile curved his lips. “Well, let’s just say I was turned on to you by somebody who really loved your work and believed in your talent. And once I had a chance to see it for myself, I had to agree. So…yes. You were cast solely on the basis of your talent and your looks, and not because my brother-in-law has a hard-on for you.” He lifted his coffee cup. “Is that clear enough for you?”