Two Week Turnaround (3 page)

Isaac swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. “You have my attention.”

“Good.” Sofia pushed him into a club chair, but Isaac's hand closed over her wrist, pulling her down on top of him.

He trailed a finger across her lips, traced along the curve of her neck to the hollow of her throat and finally stopped an inch above the swell of her breasts. Leaning close enough that he could taste her perfume on his tongue, he whispered. “But do I have
your
attention?”

Sofia didn't move as he reached up and tugged the barrette out of her French twist. Blond waves spilled over her shoulders, curtaining her face in shadow. Isaac wove his fingers through the loose hair, his grip tightening as Sofia closed her eyes with pleasure.

His dick stiffened in his pants and he shifted so that Sofia would be able to feel it through her thin skirt. He watched as her teeth sunk into her lower lip. This was what he longed to see: Sofia unraveling, coming undone because of him.

But her eyes snapped open as if she'd been given a shot of adrenaline, and she pushed herself out of the chair and away from him. “I apologize. We have a professional relationship, Mr. Blue. Nothing more.”

She smoothed out her dress and pushed the loose hair out of her face. The mask of professionalism had returned, but Isaac could see it was cracking around the edges. One more blow to the fragile facade, and it would shatter.

Standing so that they were eye level, he shook his head. “We both know that's not true, Fia.”

Chapter Four

Sofia unpacked her suitcase again. It was the third time she'd packed to leave and then unpacked again. She wasn't sure what had pissed her off more—nearly losing control of her professionalism or Isaac having played her. She'd walked out on him without waiting for an explanation and spent last night trying to figure out how she'd been so stupid.

Of course he remembered who she was. She wasn't exactly easy to forget.

Now she had twenty minutes to decide if she was headed to the Maxximum Studios set or Heathrow. It should have been an easy decision. None of her turnarounds had gone wrong this quickly. None of her turnarounds had gone wrong at all. The trouble was that where Isaac was concerned, wrong often felt a little too right.

Her phone buzzed, distracting her from her luggage. She sighed when she saw the caller ID. “Daddy.”

She knew it was a business call, but right now she longed for the comfort talking to her father might afford. Yet another reason to never again mix her business and personal life. There were plenty of screwed-up Hollywood starlets back home.

“Are you on set?” he asked.

“No, I'm...” Sofia hesitated and then made up her mind. “I'm on my way.”

“That doesn't sound reassuring.” Arnold Maxx didn't say anything more, and Sofia knew it was an invitation. If she wanted out of this assignment now was the time to say something.

“I warned you that asking me to fix Isaac Blue would be a disaster. The man's a walking ball of hormones. He has no boundaries.” She didn't add that where Blue was concerned, she didn't have much self-control either. No matter how openly she spoke with her father, there were some things he really didn't need to know.

“Sounds like most of your troubled clientele.”

“Yeah, well, I haven't slept with the rest of my clients!” she exploded.

“I work with women I've slept with all the time,” her father coaxed. “How long has it been since you were involved with Isaac? Years?”

This was different than her father's exploits. Arnold Maxx had a bevy of willing beauties to bed due to his position in Hollywood, and he'd always been more than willing to help a fresh face up the ladder. He was asking Sofia the wrong questions.

How long had it been since she'd slept with anyone that got under her skin like Isaac?

Far, far too long.

How long had it been since his touch had set her body on fire?

Recently enough that she still felt it blazing through her.

“You can handle him.” The threat that might have accompanied these words in any other scenario was absent. Instead, her father's voice was even and reassuring with no hint of underlying menace.

“I hope you're right.” She ended the call and walked out the hotel door before she could change her mind.

* * *

The key was to get back to basics, Sofia decided as security cleared her through to the set. One more day of observation and then she would focus on helping Isaac rediscover healthier activities. For the first time in her career, she was going for the Band-Aid fix. Her father needed this movie finished. She could keep Isaac out of trouble for that long, at least.

It was a closed set, but there were plenty of extras milling about as cameramen and prop crew got things ready for today's shoot. Isaac was nowhere in sight. He was likely in his trailer, but it pleased Sofia that he wasn't outside hitting on any of the girls that had been called as extras. The problem was that she wasn't sure that was an entirely professional thought.

A silky hand brushed her shoulder and she turned to find herself face-to-face with her worst nightmare.

Nina Justin. Relationship wrecker, Hollywood bombshell and persona non grata. She was gorgeous, of course, but not in the traditional way. Most A-list actresses weren't. Nina's red hair and freckle-dusted skin should have clashed with her bee-stung lips and large, sultry eyes, but they didn't. Maybe that was why she commanded high seven figures for her roles.

“Fia,” Nina cooed. “What are you doing here? Did your father send you?”

“Yes. I'm working as Isaac's temporary publicist.” She couldn't emphasize temporary enough. Trust Nina to guess that Sofia was here at Maxx's request.

“He needs one. I heard all about his little scene this weekend. I hope you're up for straightening him out because I'm due to another project in a month.” The redhead's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she spoke.

“I can assure you that filming will go smoothly from here on out.” What she couldn't guarantee was that this would be easy.

“If anyone can handle Isaac, you can. I'm sure that's why your father sent you.” Nina paused before she continued. “Isaac could never resist you.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow coming from the woman who'd seduced Isaac away from her in the first place, but Sofia took it with as much grace as possible. “Or you, if I recall.”

“Isaac and me?” Nina waved off the subtle accusation and laughed. “That is one cowboy I never let saddle me.”

“Not even back when you were filming
Days of Rain
?” The subtlety was gone from Sofia's voice now, even though she wasn't sure if she was accusing or asking. Isaac had left to film the thriller and never called her again. The movie had made his career and ended hers.

“Oh, that publicity stunt? I swear the studios are better at selling scandals than they are selling movie tickets.” Nina's eyes darted toward the set director as he called for places. “Isaac was much too young for me. Still is.” She winked. “And he was horribly moody. He stayed in his trailer the whole time and was constantly demanding to know if he'd had any calls. My guess is he had it bad for someone back then, but not me.”

Nina pecked her on the cheek and sashayed across the street and in front of the cameras, leaving a stunned Sofia behind. That was definitely not the story that had circulated in every tabloid six years ago, but why would Nina lie about it now? And if it was all a publicity stunt, why had no one ever told Sofia?

Why had Isaac never told her?

Sofia pushed her shoulders back, squaring them as if to prepare for a confrontation, and moved toward the direction of the action. The scene had started, and all she could do was watch as Isaac raced down the street with a car following behind him slowly. In the movie, the car would be speeding and he would be running at a near supernatural speed. Seeing a film being made reminded Sofia of one of the harsh truths about Hollywood: the stories were often much more interesting than the reality. Everyone wanted a hero to rush in and save the day. No one wanted to know that the shot was sped up to make things more exciting. No one wanted to believe he didn't love the woman he'd just rescued from near death.

They wanted the lies.

That was one reason Sofia had got out of the business years ago. In a world patchworked together with makeup and sound effects, she wanted something real. Doing turnarounds had given her the chance to reconnect reality to her hometown. Sofia had saved careers and lives by forcing people to face the fact that they didn't live in the movies and that no one was going to clean up their messes in a sound studio. And she was here to do that once more. Isaac needed to reconnect with the real world. The problem was that there was only one way to do that.

She watched his athletic form as he hurled himself over the hood of a car. No stuntman for Isaac. He wanted his acting to look real. He wanted to do the work himself. She just had to remind him that he owed that kind of dedication to his life offscreen, as well. Never mind that her heart had sped up, beating faster than the stunt car hurtling down the street. Never mind the fact that there was only one sure way to break through to him.

Sofia knew exactly what would keep Isaac off the streets and out of the bars, and thanks to Nina's confession, Sofia no longer balked at the prospect. He hadn't cheated on her five years ago. Everything she thought she knew about Isaac Blue had been turned upside down and now she saw clearly what could finally set him straight. Isaac didn't need anything to remind him of who he was. He needed a person.

He needed her.

* * *

Any hope of wrapping early for the day, Isaac realized, had set along with the sun. After several mishaps with pyrotechnics and a near miss with Nina's stunt double, he was going to be lucky to get out of here before sunrise. It wouldn't have been so bad if Fia weren't around watching his every take. But in that dress she was enough of a distraction that he'd forgotten his lines so often he'd had to duck into his trailer to get ahold of himself.

The trouble was it felt an awful lot like he was hiding from her, which wasn't exactly true. He'd known when he finally called her bluff at Wellie's that there would be consequences. He'd expected the cold shoulder. He hadn't anticipated how frustrating it would be to have her around and not speaking to him.

Isaac glanced down at his script before tossing it on a chair. He knew his lines. He knew his role. What he didn't goddamn know was why Fia was here today. She'd walked out on him last night, leaving him to deal with the fact that he'd finally pushed her away.

He hadn't liked the feeling.

A knock on the trailer door startled him from his thoughts and he shook his head. This was exactly why he hadn't got involved with anyone else since their breakup. It was career suicide, and his career was already on the rocks. Throwing open the door, he glared at the assistant who'd had the unfortunate task of calling him back for the next scene.

“Mr. Blue,” she said timidly, hugging a clipboard to her petite figure, “they're ready for you.”

Any other time he might have asked the girl's name. Maybe even suggested a drink after shooting wrapped, but he wasn't in the mood. Instead, he gave her a curt nod and headed over to the makeup chair for a quick touch-up.

“You're rubbing off the blood.” Sheryl tsked as she reapplied fake blood to the wound on his forehead.

“You think any guy is going to run around with a gaping hole in his head and not wipe off the blood?” he barked, causing more than one head to turn in his direction.

Sheryl gave him a warning look and continued. In a matter of minutes, he looked as if he'd just narrowly missed an explosion. Now he had to go out and crawl through rubble, fend off the bad guys and rescue his girl. It was hardly a groundbreaking day of work. But as he caught sight of Fia's willowy figure in the mirror, he remembered there was a real ticking bomb on the set and he had no idea when she was going to detonate.

Sofia strode up behind him, their gazes locked in the mirror. Did she always sway her hips like that? Or was it just another attempt to drive him crazy?

Either way it was working.

“We're going to be at this a while,” he muttered, turning in his chair to face her. “There's plenty of babysitters here. You don't have to stick around.”

She bristled, her hands balling into fists, and shot him a tight-lipped smile. “I was thinking the same thing.” Her voice was even, each word carefully measured and crisply delivered. She'd also been a more than decent actress. “What's your call time tomorrow?”

“Late afternoon.” He did his best to sound indifferent. If Fia could play the part of casual acquaintance, so could he.

“Good. I'll be over in the morning to discuss my plan of action with you.” She smoothed her skirt and hesitated.

Isaac took the cue and rose from his seat. Casual acquaintances would part, their business clearly finished. Friends might hug. Fia didn't fall into any of those categories. That was the real issue: he didn't know what to do with her.

He had plenty of ideas of what he'd
like
to do to her. His imagination hadn't failed him in that regard. Neither had her red-as-sin lips.

She hadn't moved to leave. It was as if she was waiting for something—expecting something. He shifted on his foot and tried to ignore the suggestions coming from his dumber half.

“Okay, tomorrow then.” She turned on her heel, and before he could stop himself he'd reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Fia...I...”

She turned the full force of her sapphire-blue eyes on him, and for just a second, it was there. An invitation.

“Do you have a car coming?” he said quickly, dropping his hold on her. He had a full night of filming ahead of him. The project was already weeks behind schedule. His agent had left him five calls today alone to discuss his recent legal trouble. The only thing he wanted to do was sweep Fia into his arms and find the first flat surface he could, but it was the last thing he could
actually
do. He stepped away from her, but not before he caught the disappointment flash across her beautiful face.

“I'm not far. I'll walk.”

He heard the subtle pain hiding behind her brisk response. How many opportunities was he going to get with her? “I can't leave now,” he explained, “but I want you to take my car.”

“I can take care of myself, Isaac.”

He was pretty sure she wasn't just talking about a ride home, but he shrugged it off. “Oh, I don't doubt that. I never have. But this is East London, and we have a date in the morning.”

“We have an
appointment
,” she corrected him, shouldering her purse.

“Appointment. Whatever. I'd hate for you to run into Jack the Ripper before our appointment.”

“I'm pretty sure he's dead.” A smile played at her lips and he knew he had her. Fia might be stubborn, but all she needed was a little coaxing. Apparently some things hadn't changed.

“They never caught him,” he reminded her, offering her his arm. “Better play it safe.”

She slipped a hand around his biceps. Christ, that felt good. So much for getting his mind off getting in closer contact with the new Ms. King. He led her toward the security station, stealing peeks at her as he called for his private car service on his cell.