Private Passions (16 page)

It can't be, he thought, barely registering
as his brother's not insubstantial bulk slammed into his back. Even
with her back turned away from him, he recognized the slope of her
shoulder, the curve of her neck, left exposed with her hair pinned
up in a haphazard knot.

And that laugh... from the first time he
heard it, that low, throaty chuckle had never failed to pull at
something deep inside him, make him feel like all he needed to be
happy for the rest of his life was to hear that laugh every
day.

There she was, sitting at his parents' worn
plastic picnic table like she belonged there, sipping a bottle of
his microbrew and laughing like she didn't have care in the world.
How many times, he wondered, had he fantasized about seeing her
exactly like this? Casual, laid back, slipping into his world like
it was the most natural thing in the world.

Something surged in his chest. Warmth, hope,
happiness, and every cell in his body demanded that he grab her up
in his arms and never let her go again.

"What is she doing here?"

Damon's bemused voice over his shoulder
knocked him out of his daze. In a rush, Deck remembered the last
time he had spoken to Jane. Her reaction to the story about his
mother. Her utter selfishness and lack of sympathy for what the
publicity might do to his family.

Jane's head snapped around at the sound of
Damon's voice. Deck steeled himself against her wide, wary green
eyes and tentative smile, even as the sight of her in the flesh was
nearly enough to send him to his knees.

"Hey, Deck."

He couldn't give in. No matter how much he
loved her, he couldn't ignore the truth. The only reason she could
possibly be here was to work an angle for her own benefit. To stage
a photo op to show how she could hang with "normal" people, or some
shit.

There was no way it was just about him.

His mouth pulled into a tight line and he
folded his arms across his chest. "What the fuck are you doing
here?" Her smile faded at his harsh tone.
She's probably so used
to people falling at her feet and doing her bidding, she thought
I'd take one look at her and all would be forgiven,
he thought.
When hell freezes over.

Still, he felt something pinch in his gut at
the sad resolve that chased away the spark in her green eyes.

She stood, wiping her hands nervously on the
front of her jeans. "I don't really know what I'm doing here," she
said and made a sound that sounded like half laugh, half sob. "I
didn't plan to—I just, it suddenly became imperative that I see you
and your family. Apologize in person for everything that's
happened."

Her teeth closed over her lush bottom lip in
a way that made him ache to suck it between his own. And the way
she twisted her slender hands in knots, her shoulders hunched in
defeat, made him want to take pull her close and promise he'd never
let anyone hurt her again.

"So you've apologized. Now you can go."

###

Jane felt like her rib cage was cracking wide
open as she looked at Deck's cold, flat stare. There was nothing
there, no trace of the heat, the love she'd seen burning in those
amber depths just days ago.

"Daniel, I raised you to have better manners
than that," Vivian gasped. "Jane came all this way, and she's been
nothing but sweet. You apologize for being so rude."

"No, it's okay. He doesn't have to
apologize." Jane held up her hand, her mouth pulling into a tight
smile like she wasn't dying inside.
You knew this was going to
happen. You knew how this was going to go.

Yes, she'd known going in the likely way this
was going to turn out. But until this moment she hadn't realized
that buried under all that common sense, an ember of hope had
flared to life. That Deck would see her and feel the exact same way
at first sight as she felt the second she saw him.

That no matter what happened, he missed her,
he loved her, and he'd do anything to be with her. Including
forgive her for being such a self-centered bitch.

"I'm the one who's rude, barging in here
unannounced."

"And probably tipping off the paparazzi that
she's here so they can show her making nice with my poor trashy
family," Deck said snidely.

Pain knifed in her chest so sharply she
gasped and clutched her shirt over the spot. "I'm afraid a couple
reporters did see me come in. I didn't think to look for them when
I got here," she replied in a tight voice. "But I didn't tell
anyone I was coming here." She met Deck's stony stare with her own,
willing him to see the truth.

She pasted a smile on her lips and turned
back to Deck's parents. "It was really lovely to meet you."

Ignoring Vivian's protests she started for
the screen door, pausing to offer hand to Deck's brother. He had a
slightly puzzled look on his face, as though he wasn't sure this
was actually happening.

"Goodbye Deck," she said softly as she passed
him. She searched his face, looking for anything, any sign of a
crack in his stony exterior.

Nothing.

She stepped inside the house, ignoring the
din of voices coming from outside. Blinking back tears, she waited
for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dimness and tried to
remember where she put her purse.

She heard the screen door open and shut
behind her, and didn't even have to turn know it was Deck who'd
stepped inside. She knew from the scent of him, soap, shaving
cream, and his own man smell. She knew from the energy that seemed
to crackle off of him and bring every cell of her body to awareness
in away no one else ever had.

And no one else ever would.

"I'll be out of here in just a minute," she
said hating the way her voice shook. She couldn't fall apart. Not
yet. Not in front of him. "I just have to find my bag and call the
pilot to get the plane ready. I don't know if he needs to refuel or
what but I feel like I should give him some warning." She was
babbling, she knew, but the nonstop chatter was the only way she
could think to prevent herself from bursting into tears.

She circled the kitchen but didn't see her
purse on the counter or the tiny kitchen table where she thought
she'd left it. "George—the pilot—he works for the studio so he
really didn't want to deviate from the flight plan. Afraid he'd get
fired," she said, careful to give Deck a wide berth as she darted
around him to look on the coffee table in the living room.

"I was supposed to go to Vancouver," she
said, though he didn't ask, and from the hard look on his face he
didn't look like he cared. "But as soon as I got on the plane, I
knew I had to come here."

"And you always get what you want, right?" he
said in a voice that could have ground glass.

"Not always," she said through the lump in
her throat. "But it helped that I offered to pay him double what
the studio paid him to fly me up to the set."

His brow furrowed, the first chink in his
impervious demeanor. "You were supposed to start shooting two days
ago."

"Yep, and now the studio is officially very
pissed at me."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Hal can smooth things
over for you."

"I'm sure he could if I hadn't fired him."
Jane's gaze darted around the room. She was getting a little
desperate now. She couldn't leave without her purse, and she didn't
know how much longer she could last under the arctic blast of
Deck's stare without crumbling into a humiliated heap at his
feet.

He flinched at that. "You fired Hal?"

"And Hailey too, after Malcolm sent me the
bank records that showed
TMZ
paying her nearly a million for
leaking the stories and the photos. Thanks for that, by the
way."

His only reply was a curt nod. "You should
sue her ass off."

Jane shrugged. Not long ago she would have
felt the same way. Now it didn't seem worth the energy. "My own
fault for trusting the wrong people."

She paused as a familiar trilling filled the
air. It was her phone. She followed the sound to the hall closet.
Inside she found her purse, where Vivian must have put it away. She
pulled her phone out and gave a mirthless chuckle as she read the
text message her business manager had sent her.

"Why is the studio fining you two million
dollars?" Deck said from over her shoulder.

"Delaying production They already did all the
shooting they can without me, and me being here instead of there is
costing them two million a day."

She tucked her phone back in her purse and
slung the strap over her shoulder. This was it, her cue to go.
Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin and offered Deck one
last smile. "You take care, Deck."

###

It took Deck several seconds to process
everything she'd just told him, and by the time the truth hit him
she was already halfway to her car. He sprinted out after her and
caught her by the arm just as she was about to step off the curb
and cross the street.

She stopped, startled, and seemingly
oblivious to the flashes of the photographer who was eagerly
documenting the moment.

Deck didn't waste time on him either, he was
too intent on figuring out if what Jane had said really meant what
he thought it did. "So you're telling me you totally blew off the
studio to come here, and they're pissed enough to fine you?"

Jane shrugged. "Like you pointed out, it's
not like I don't have enough money. It's not like I can't cover it.
And I needed to see you."

He felt his head swim as he absorbed that she
was willing to write off two million dollars a day to come out
here. But that wasn't what made him feel like something inside him
was cracking wide open. That wasn't what made him slide his hand
down her arm to catch her hand in his and tug her closer.

"Stuff like that will get the press going.
They'll say you're being a flake, unreliable."

Her breath caught as his fingers tangled with
hers and her throat bobbed as she swallowed convulsively. "They
probably will. So what."

"You really mean that?" Deck said, trying to
keep the hope at bay, unable to resist its unrelenting force. "You
really didn't think about how all this would play out?"

"I didn't think about anything but seeing you
again, apologizing to you and your family." Her gaze drifted away
from his. "I know it makes me look crazy—honestly, I kind of feel
crazy. But I don't care." Her eyes drifted back up to his face, and
what he saw there made his heart feel like it going to burst out of
his ribcage. "I don't care about anything but you."

The truth was there, in her big green eyes,
in the way her fingers clutched tightly at his. And it was in the
way she blurted out, "I love you Deck, and I hate that you and your
family were hurt. Nothing matters more than that," without so much
as blinking an eyelash at the reporters standing a foot away, one
snapping frantically with his camera while the other captured every
second on video.

Still, he needed to be sure. "Then I guess
you don't care that all of this is going to be up on
E!'s
home page in about five minutes," he murmured as he brought his
free hand up to cup her cheek and bent his head close to hers.

"Couldn't care less," she said, smiling
shakily as she rose up on her toes to meet his lips. Heat exploded
through him at the first touch, the first taste. And along with it,
the gut deep knowledge that this was it,
she
was it. No
matter how crazy her life was and his became by association, he
couldn't escape the fundamental truth that unless he wanted to walk
through the rest of his life feeling like he had a gaping hole
where his heart should be, he needed her.

"I love you," he murmured, catching her gasp
between his lips as he pulled her even more tightly against
him.

"I love you too," she said shakily. "So much.
And I'm sorry I was so selfish and worried about myself. What I
have with you is so much more important than any stupid gossip. I'm
going to do whatever it takes to show you I mean that."

Deck lifted his head from hers and gave a
reluctant grin to the camera popping inches from their faces. "I
think I have all the proof I need." He bent his head so his mouth
brushed her ear and whispered, too quiet for anyone else to hear,
"And I'm afraid if I don't get you somewhere private, in about
thirty seconds there's going to be a sex tape out there that will
make Pam and Tommy Lee's look like a Disney cartoon."

###

Ten Months Later

What a difference a year makes,
Jane
thought as she stared at her reflection in the mirror mounted on
the far side of the bedroom.

"I can't believe how gorgeous you look," Mira
raved as she handed Jane the jewelry Neil Lane had sent over for
her to wear to tonight's Golden Globes ceremony.

Jane oohed and ahhed at gems. Rubies, to
match the rich crimson of her dress, and diamonds of course to give
her a little sparkle.

Gorgeous as they were, they couldn't hold a
candle to the two carat solitaire set in pave encrusted platinum
and the matching pave band that encircled the ring finger of her
left hand.

"I know your hair, your skin. You barely need
me for anything," Claud, her make-up artist, said with a mocking
sigh, "You stay this happy you're going to put me out of a
job."

"I'll consider it my mission to make you
obsolete."

Jane smiled at Deck in the mirror as he
approached from behind. Just like last year Deck was here to take
her to the Globes. But this year she thought with a little thrill,
he was going as her husband and date instead of merely her
bodyguard.

His perfectly tailored tux emphasized the
powerful lines of his shoulders and chest, somehow making him look
even more powerful, a warrior ready to shake off the confines of
civility.