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Authors: Inara Scott

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Gunther brushed off his words with a flick of his fingers.
“I have no interest in whether you’re having sex or not. Frankly, it might be
good for her if you did. But there’s something more going on. I want to know
what your intentions are.”

“Christ, Gunther, I’m not a sixteen-year-old boy for you
to play Daddy with. My relationship with Alix is none of your business,” Ryker
growled.

“The hell it isn’t.”

“Look, she knows where I’m coming from. I’ve been honest
with her every step of the way. I don’t do romance, and I don’t do love. If she
gets hurt, it’s her business.” The words sounded merciless, even brutal. It was
as he intended, but Ryker had to struggle not to wince as he said it.

Gunther’s mouth turned down in disgust. “Don’t be an ass.
I don’t care what you
think
she knows. I’m warning you—stay away
from her. I hate to have to disable my best director, but I’d do it in a second
if I thought you were playing games with her.”

“There’s no game,” Ryker said. “And don’t worry,
regardless of how much of a monster you may think I am, I have no intention of
hurting Alix. Thanks to your insistence, we are making a movie together, but
that’s it. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Gunther dismissed him with a flick of his fingers. “See
that I don’t, Mr. Valentine, or there will be hell to pay.”

Chapter Twenty-three

 

Alix watched nervously as the crew
hurried around the set, bumping into one another and almost dropping plates and
glasses at every turn. They were shooting a party scene, and between takes, the
crew had to do the painstaking work of restoring every prop to pre-party
condition. With only five days left to film in June, Ryker had everyone working
at breakneck speed, though with Jake and Lena performing better these days, it
wasn’t with the same air of frustration that it had been when she first
arrived.

More than a week after Gunther’s party, Ryker still
avoided touching her at all costs, but he’d gotten comfortable being alone with
her again. For the past two nights, he hadn’t even found an excuse to bring the
interns or Amir along when were in the screening room. That was a big change
from the first few days, when he’d filled the set and every other room they
were in together with people.

“No, Maria, there’s no way.”

Alix tried not to eavesdrop on Ryker’s cell phone
conversation, but it was impossible with the two of them only a foot apart,
watching as the crew restored picked-over plates of food and replaced empty beer
bottles with fulls.

“I’m sorry, but we’ve got a huge shoot tonight. I’ve got a
studio full of extras I don’t intend to pay twice.” Ryker looked up from his
conversation to bark at Frank. “That take looked lousy. We need to do it
again.”

Weeks ago, Ryker’s bark had sounded fierce, unrelenting,
and intimidating. Now she knew it for what it was—the voice of a
perfectionist who knew precisely what he wanted and refused to rest until he
got it.

Ryker turned back to his cell and continued to argue with
Maria but with an increasing note of resignation. He tore his fingers through
his hair, scattering the already rumpled strands across his forehead in a
gesture Alix now knew was his habit when he was filled with nervous energy. His
long legs ate up the small space as he paced and talked—another nervous
habit, Alix had discovered. When she got anxious, she curled up in a chair and
bit her fingers. When Ryker got anxious, he paced.

Yes, she knew that about him and so much more. She knew
that he liked his coffee with cream, no sugar, and didn’t care if it was two
days old, as long as it was hot. He dressed to the nines even when they were
walking around the set on a Sunday morning and was partial to cool linen shirts
and long, snug-fitting chinos that showed off his tight behind.

For Lena’s sake, he tried to curb his habit of yelling at
the actors when a scene didn’t go as he wanted, but when he was tired or
frustrated, his temper could still get the better of him. He was sparing in his
praise, but that only made it more valuable, and she could see Jake and Lena
glow with pride when he told them they’d done well.

“No, no…of course you can’t skip your exam. I’ll take care
of it. I’ll be there to pick up Fifi in an hour… Yes, you owe me huge. I’ll see
you soon.”

He slammed the phone closed and heaved a giant sigh.
“Maria’s got an exam after work today, and the woman who usually takes care of
Felicity is sick. In fact, everyone in the entire city who does daycare is
apparently sick right now. Rosalia’s got some school-board meeting she can’t
miss, Emilio and the boys are out of town, and someone has to pick up Fifi.
You’ll have to take over.”

Alix stared. “Me? Take over? You mean shoot the scene
without you?”

“You can do it.”

“Of course I can do it,” she replied, her mind racing
through their schedule for the rest of the day. “But you’ve got meetings until
seven tonight. You’ve got lighting changes to discuss with Frank, they’re
bringing over the new trailer at four, and then you’re meeting with Gunther
about the budget at six.”

“I’m glad to know someone’s keeping track of my schedule,”
he said.

Alix felt her face light up in a blush. “There’s a lot to
be done. I’m just trying to keep it all straight.”

Ryker ran his hands through his hair and resumed his
pacing. “You and me both. But Maria can’t miss this exam. She already missed
one a couple of weeks ago when Fifi had that fever, and the professor’s a real
bastard. He told her he’d flunk her if it happened again.”

“What if…what if I pick her up?” Alix nibbled on her lip
as she thought through the possibilities. “I was going to get everything ready
and prepare Lena and Jake for their big love scene tomorrow, but that’s
probably not necessary. I can take Fifi to your house and hang out with her
until Maria’s class is over.”

Ryker shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You think Fifi wouldn’t go for it? She doesn’t know me
very well, I suppose.”

He gave a wry chuckle. “Fifi would go home with Hannibal
Lecter. She was born without the shy gene. No, it’s nice of you to offer, but I
can’t have you doing that.”

“I had a number of foster siblings when I was growing up.
My babysitting skills may be a bit rusty, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.
I’ll figure it out.”

“It isn’t that,” he said, wrinkling his forehead. “I saw
you playing with the kids at Rosa’s house the other night, and I’m sure you’d
be a great babysitter. But it’s a family thing. I’ll take care of it.”

Alix paused for a moment to enjoy the discovery that Ryker
remembered her playing with the kids at Rosalia’s house. Then she resolutely
squelched the feeling of pleasure. She’d worked hard to stop reacting like a
puppy every time Ryker smiled at her. There was nothing between them and never would
be.

She forced herself to lay a casual hand on his forearm.
“Ryker, don’t be silly. We’re friends, right? Friends help each other out.”

He stared at her, glancing briefly at her arm, his dark
eyes hard and intense. Fascinated, she watched as he swallowed, and she felt
the muscles under her hand twitch.

“Friends?” he said. “Yes, I suppose that’s right.”

“You suppose?” Alix gave him a playful swat. “You mean
we’ve been working together fifteen hours a day for the last three weeks, and
you aren’t sure?”

Friends.

Surprisingly enough, the word felt right. They’d had their
detours, but somewhere in the midst of everything, they had developed an
honest-to-God friendship. Ryker argued with her when he thought she went too
far in her attempts to put a romantic gloss on Jake and Lena’s love scenes, and
she pushed him to admit his personal views on love had colored the way he
directed his actors. They hadn’t yet shot the scene in which Jake’s and Lena’s
characters had sex for the first time but had discussed it in excruciating
detail, from the first kiss to the moment of ultimate surrender, and had
managed to do so without losing their minds or their clothes. They had shared
late-night cups of coffee, challenged each other’s theories about communicating
with their audience, and groaned over scenes that didn’t work the way they
wanted.

They’d even shared stories of their crazy childhoods—his,
running around South Central trying to prove he belonged, and hers, riding the
trains in New York City, knowing she didn’t belong to anyone, anywhere.

He smiled reluctantly. “Okay, you’re right. But that
doesn’t mean I’ll let you play nursemaid for me.”

“Nonsense. I need a break from your yelling anyway.” He
started to protest further, and she held up a hand to interrupt. “Just give me
Maria’s number and address, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Ryker!” Amir ran up with a pained look on his face.
“Frank said to tell you the B Camera isn’t running, and catering says they need
to go out and get more tortilla chips. Apparently our little extras are just
famished! Oh, and the girl in the red dress is throwing up in the bathroom.
What do you want to do about it?”

Alix and Ryker winced in unison.

Ryker heaved a sigh. “Tell Frank I’ll be right there. We
can wait for the food, but tell Red Dress if she isn’t on the set when the
cameras are rolling, I’ll have to replace her.” As Amir ran in the other
direction, Ryker turned to Alix, a deep wrinkle of concern between his eyes.
“You’re right. I can’t leave. Are you sure you don’t mind getting Felicity?”

She held up her pad and pen. “Just give me the number and
the keys to your house. We’ll be fine.”

#

When Ryker walked through his front door that night, the
first thing he heard was giggling. He stopped to close his eyes and listen. It
was a sound he would never grow tired of hearing. When Maria and Fifi had
stayed with him for two months in the spring, he’d grown accustomed to hearing
that giggle. It made the house seem that much quieter after they left.

He followed the sound to the backyard. Alix, clad in a
painfully circumspect one-piece bathing suit, swirled Felicity around in the
pool. The one-year-old slapped the water with open palms and then laughed
uproariously when the water hit her face.

“Lovely, Fifi, lovely!” Alix pushed back her hair and
grinned when a jet of water caught her in the eyes.

“Mo, mo, mo!” Fifi squealed.

“Goodness, you are a clever little thing, aren’t you?”
Alix crooned. They looked so natural together, Felicity nestled deep in Alix’s
arms, Alix swaying back and forth to some unconscious rhythm. “This is the
life, I tell you. Maybe Gunther’s right. Maybe I should sell my soul to the
devil and move back to LA.” She laughed at her own joke. “Then again, I’m not
sure the devil pays much for souls like mine.”

Ryker cleared his throat as he walked over to the side of
the pool. “I wouldn’t count on that,” he said. “I think your soul could be
worth quite a bit.”

Alix spun around, a plume of pink coloring her cheeks,
while Felicity turned into a full-body squirm.

“Ry, Ry!” Felicity called, stretching her arms toward him.
“Ry!”

“You’re back early,” Alix said. “You startled me.”

“Gunther and I cut the meeting short. He said he would
give me a call tomorrow.”

“Ry?” Felicity slapped the water hopefully.

“Honey, Uncle Ryker is wearing one of his fancy shirts. We
don’t want to get him wet.” Alix paused. “On second thought, he’s filthy rich.
What are we worried about?”

“Huh?” It took a moment for her words to register, because
he was captivated by the way the sun reflected golden lights in her hair, and
he could almost make out the curve of her breast, pressed against Felicity’s
back. “Now wait a minute.” He began to back away from the water.

Alix waded over to the side of the pool. “Splash, Fifi,”
she called. “Quick! Splash!”

Felicity didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, she
was slapping the water as hard as she could. Alix tried to hold Felicity in one
arm while she shoveled handfuls of liquid at Ryker. She was almost entirely
ineffective, but she was laughing so hard he couldn’t help but lean over and
join in. He tried for a moment to splash Alix, but that was impossible without
getting Fifi in the face, so, without another thought, he slipped off his shoes
and jumped in the water. Grabbing his niece from Alix’s unresisting grasp, he
launched into an all-out, full-frontal assault.

“Get her, Fifi!” he shouted, and they swept the water in
wide strokes in Alix’s direction. Alix shrieked and ducked under the surface.
Ryker watched, bemused, as she swirled her body around and took a deep stroke
toward the other end of the pool. Her absurd suit, which apparently had been
made in the 1950s, covered her from her collarbones to the curve of her
heart-shaped bottom, but it hardly mattered. The fabric molded to her small
frame, and when she popped back up to the surface a few feet away, it outlined
her tiny waist and generous breasts.

He almost dropped Fifi when he saw her nipples, perfectly
framed by the thin fabric.

He couldn’t get involved with her. He knew that. She was
an emotional train wreck, a woman on the hunt for love,
and
his
producer’s virtual daughter. Cheap-and-easy sex was not an option.

But her mouth, oh, her mouth. Just looking at it gave him
shivers. Every night when he went for a swim, all he could think of was the
movement of her body against his, the way her legs had closed around his waist,
and the way it had felt—for just a moment—to bury himself inside.

“You can’t get me,” she taunted.

He swallowed and tried not to stare, but the vision of her
body, so beautifully revealed by the thin suit and slanted sun over the water,
had him captivated. Her smile slowly faded.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said huskily.

She turned away, wiping the water that dripped down her
face and into her eyes and then gazed at Felicity. A wide smile creased her
cheeks. “Well, Fifi, I guess we got him, didn’t we?”

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