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Authors: Cindy Dees

High-Stakes Playboy (7 page)

BOOK: High-Stakes Playboy
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“True.” Tyrone brushed her entire face lightly with setting powder. Based on the name, Marley guessed it would keep her makeup from smudging. The makeup artist commented, “As long as that boy don’t kill you, I guess it’s okay if he flies a little crazy. Promise me you won’t make him do anything really dangerous, though. A good camera shot’s a nice thing, but not worth dying over. ’Kay?”

“’Kay,” she answered meekly. As if she had any control over how Archer flew.

“I’m gonna skedaddle before Romeo shows up. Don’t do anything with your man that I wouldn’t do.” Tyrone went off into gales of laughter at that one, finally gasping, “God, I crack myself up.”

Her motel room felt silent and empty after the ebullient makeup artist left. There was nothing to distract her from recalling every detail of last night’s near-sex in the hallway. But before she could freak herself out too badly over how she was going to maneuver Archer into her bed without looking like a total newb, a firm knock sounded on her door.

She flung it open and gasped to see him standing there so tall and gorgeous and smiling back at her. “Wow, you’re handsome. I forget just how much so when you’re not here.”

“Guess I’ll just have to stick around all the time, then,” he replied, smiling like he was genuinely pleased at the compliment. He leaned down to kiss her cheek and murmured, “Every time I see you, I swear you’re more beautiful. Hungry?”

For him? Hell, yes!
“Mmm-hmm,” she managed.

He installed her in his truck and pulled out of the motel parking lot. In a few minutes, only the silent silhouettes of mountains and the starry sky were visible in the dark night. Dammit. She was going to have to endure eating before she ravaged him.

She tried to enjoy the grandeur of the Sierras, but it was hard to do, given the way her nerves were jumping all over the place. She was alone with the hottest guy she’d ever met, and she was disguised as a woman who knew what to do about it. Sure, she’d read her fair share of romance novels. But translating a general idea of how this whole seduction thing worked into reality was turning out to be more daunting than she’d imagined. If only she could be sure he wouldn’t die laughing at her clumsy efforts.

“Where are we going?” she asked over the purr of the engine.

“Rancho Colombo,” he answered. “I hear they’ve got a rib restaurant that’s crazy good. I’ve been craving barbecue for months.”

“Not a lot of barbecue in central Asia, huh?” she asked sympathetically.

“Not so much.”

She laughed. “What else do you miss when you’re over there?”

He shrugged. “Pillowcases that aren’t full of grit. More than one football game on a Sunday afternoon. Good deli pizza. And women, of course.”

“I thought lots of women are deployed overseas these days.”

“They are. And they’re soldiers. The military has strict rules about fraternization, and everyone works long hours and lives in a state of constant exhaustion. Not to mention, I don’t particularly find combat boots attractive.”

“Chauvinist!”

“Don’t let my grandmother hear you accuse me of that. She’d tan my hide if she thought I or any of my brothers were ever the least bit sexist.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Two older brothers and two younger sisters.”

“Ugh. You’re the middle child, huh?”

He shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention to all that psychology stuff.”

Silence fell as they drove farther up into the mountains, and her thoughts turned back to the rumors Tyrone had shared earlier. “So, tell me, Archer. How close did yesterday’s film shoot come to real combat?”

Archer’s body went tense and his knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. He looked like he was waging some terrible internal fight with himself. Cripes! What had she said? “Are you all right?” she asked in quick concern.

His jaw rippled like he was clenching it, but he managed a terse nod.

“What did I say?”

He shook his head and stared fiercely at the road ahead. She subsided, alarmed. He drove for a good fifteen minutes in harsh silence before his hands began to relax and the terrible tension across his shoulders began to subside.

Without looking at her, he muttered, “Are you always so observant?”

What the hell had she observed that had made him so tight? She frowned across the cab of the truck at him. “Um, I guess so.”

Thankfully, the road came down out of the mountains and into a small western town with a traditional main street lined with restored storefronts. Archer pulled the truck into a parking space and escorted her into a mom-and-pop joint that looked like the kind of place that would serve killer ribs. The smell of a mesquite smoker filled the space as they stepped inside.

The entire menu consisted of beef ribs, pork ribs, chicken or all of the above. They opted for all of the above and platters of barbecued meat, biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob and baked beans were set before them.

Archer smiled beatifically at the spread, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Getting your carnivore on, are you?”

“Talk to me in a half hour. I’ll be busy until then.”

“Just don’t choke on a bone, okay?”

“I’m not going to keel over dead just because I took you out on a date. I promise.”

Lord, she hoped not. She grabbed a rib and dug in with him. The meal seemed to break whatever tension she’d inadvertently provoked, and in a few minutes, he was chatting companionably with her once more.

He lifted a cold beer to her and announced, “Here’s to beautiful camerawomen who save their pilots’ butts.”

“Steve Prescott seems like a reasonable guy.”

“He is. And a reasonable man would have fired me.”

“I’m glad he didn’t.”

“Me, too,” Archer replied candidly.

“Tell me about yourself, Archer Archer.” She worded the comment in general enough terms that he could take the conversation wherever he was comfortable having it go.

He grinned and picked up another rib off the pile. “I grew up not too far from here actually. Serendipity, California. Same place the movie studio is named after. I hurt my throwing elbow and lost a baseball scholarship partway through college, but I picked up a chopper slot in the Army. Moved around a lot in the job. Flew in Afghanistan for a while. Given my skill set, I hopped from war zone to war zone. But then I got a call from Steve Prescott asking me if I’d like to fly for him. And here I am.”

Funny how a person could say so much and yet say so little. Like why he got that regretful look in his eyes earlier today when he’d mentioned his mother. Like how bad giving up his dream of playing baseball must have hurt—or not. Like what it was like to fly in combat. And after his earlier reaction to her question about how realistic the filming of combat had been, she had a feeling that one was key to understanding this man.

“Okay, Marley. Your turn to tell your life story.”

“Born and raised outside Chicago. One sister. My twin.”

“Identical or fraternal?” he interrupted.

“Identical. At least in looks. Other than that, we’re about as different as two people can be.”

She resumed her abbreviated life history. “I’ve been interested in photography for as long as I can remember. Came west to go to film school. Got a job filming early morning news in a small town. Out of the blue, I got a call inviting me to work on this film. One of the camera operators was in a car accident just as shooting was getting ready to start, and the studio asked me to fill in. And here I am.”

“What’s Chicago like?”

“Cold. And yes, it really is windy. Great museums. Great restaurants. Nice people. Hardy.”

“Is that how you’d describe yourself? Hardy?”

She frowned. “I’ve never thought about how I’d describe myself.”

“How about I try?” He studied her closely enough that she had to restrain an urge to squirm. “You’re prettier than you know. Smart. Observant. Uncomfortable in crowds. You prefer to see and not be seen. How am I doing so far?”

“Not bad.”

“And you’re trying like hell to figure out what a guy like me sees in a girl like you.”

Her gaze snapped to his over her rib. His gaze was hooded. Inscrutable. “And?” she asked cautiously.

“I won’t pretend that I’m not decent looking. It’s a fortunate accident of genetics that I had no control over. And yes, I’ve used it shamelessly over the years to pick up women. People always expected me to pick up the hot chicks, and I suppose I expected to bed the hot ones, too. But I’ve learned recently that there is more to a woman than how she looks.” He waved a naked rib bone at her. “But even if I still rolled that way, you’d be at the top of my list of TBF women.”

“TBF?”

“To be, um, bedded.”

She started to shake her head, but he talked over her bubbling objections.

“Honestly, Marley, you’re a bit of a mystery to me,” he admitted. “I’m not exactly sure why I find you so intriguing. But there’s no question that I do. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Not a reassuring answer. But at least he’d been straight with her. She finished her rib in silence and reached for an ear of corn. The waitress asked if they’d like refills on their beers and Archer shook his head. When she raised a questioning brow at him, he replied, “I’m driving. And I’m flying tomorrow.”

“So, I’m supposed to drink by myself?”

He grinned. “Next time, I’ll take you somewhere we can both get plastered and dance naked on the tables.”

“Sounds fun,” she replied gamely. No way would she ever get naked in public, and it wasn’t her style to make a spectacle of herself. But that was the whole point of a fling, wasn’t it? To do things you never normally would and then walk away from them.

“Have another beer, Marley. You look like you could use it.”

What? Was he a mind reader, too?
She took the proffered beer and downed it in about three gulps. Laughing quietly, he reached for another rib.

They finished the meal with small talk, and he pointed his truck back in the general direction of the movie set. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he announced.

“What kind of surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

His smile stole her breath away. She breathed, “Man, you’re beautiful.”

“How ’bout we go with handsome instead? Or hot, or studly. But not beautiful.”

“How about all of the above?”

He smiled. “Right back atchya, baby.”

“Have you ever considered modeling?” she asked as he turned the truck onto a dark dirt road high in the mountains.

“I had a few offers to make porn movies in college.”

She didn’t know if he was teasing and to laugh or if he was being serious and to be appalled. She could totally believe porn producers would recruit him.

He turned off the main highway onto a one-lane road that was more trail than actual road. “Where are we going?” she inquired.

“You’ll see.”

Going secretive on her again, was he?

He stopped the truck in a few minutes and came around to help her out. “The view will be better in the back of my truck.”

Huh?

She let him help her up into the high truck bed, and she was shocked to land on a thick foam pad. He pulled pillows from the hotel from behind his seat and unfolded a blanket over her. Was he...? Did he plan to...?

Holy crap!

He stretched out beside her on the makeshift bed, and the heat of his body reached out to wrap around her seductively. “There’s a big meteor shower tonight. I thought you might enjoy seeing a little of it.”

Okay, she would never have guessed his idea of a fun date was to lie under the stars and watch meteors. Personally, she loved the idea. Was he seriously signaling that he was prepared to take his time wooing her? To let her set the pace and be patient until she was ready for more. The king of the one-night stand? Not in a million years would she have seen that one coming. Indeed, meteors were streaking across the sky at a steady clip. The night was chilly with the promise of coming winter, but Archer and the quilt were toasty warm. Her mind was a whirl, though. If he was waiting for her to set the pace, how was she supposed to show him she wanted more?

“Do you do this sort of thing often with women?” she queried.

“Not many women like this sort of thing.”

“Their loss.”

“Yup.”

Truth be told, she hadn’t done all that much outdoors stuff. She tended to stream shows about it onto her computer. Like most adventurous things she was interested in. She watched. She didn’t do.

They commenced a meteor-counting contest, which remained neck and neck as streaks flashed across the night sky. After a while, the peace and silence of the night emboldened her. “Can you tell me why you reacted so strongly to my question about yesterday’s filming?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Classified.”

“Can you give me some generalities?”

“Nope.”

Well, shoot.
Maybe if she came at it from another angle, he’d talk a little and she could catch an inkling of what nerve she’d touched. “What’s Afghanistan like?”

He answered emotionlessly, “Hot as hell in summer and cold as hell in winter. It has mountains, but not like these. Over there, the mountains are barren. Nothing grows on them. Huge stretches of country are nothing but gray rocks and dirt. Mile after mile of the stuff. It looks like the surface of the moon. The people are hard. Gotta be to live there, I suppose.”

He pointed out a meteor streaking across the sky. “Mine. I’m ahead, twelve to ten.” She groaned, and he continued. “Being in central Asia is like traveling back in time. Natives live like they did a thousand years ago. It’s hard to believe they exist on the same planet we do at the same time.”

“What can you tell me about your military flying?”

“I already told you, I come from the search-and-rescue community. Although it’s more rescue than searching. With today’s technology, the troops we pull out either have GPSs squawking their positions, or they have radios and can tell us where they are. My job is twofold. I have to get to the ground and get them on my bird. And I have to provide air cover to back off whatever hostiles are trying to prevent them from boarding my bird.”

BOOK: High-Stakes Playboy
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