Lovers and Liars (19 page)

“It’s never your fault, is it? I seem to recall you saying that the last two times.”

“They’re nothing but a bunch of candy-ass faggots,” Rick grated. “They cross me, and they learn fast not to do it again!”

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. The kid was a coiled bunch of steely muscle. “C’mon, Rick,” he said soothingly. “Tell me about it. I’m on your side.”

“Fuck!” Rick glared. “You’re not on my side. I got you all figured out.”

“Now what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Rick ignored the question.

“Look, you’ve got to learn to control your temper. You’re not living on the street anymore. If you hurt someone, there could be criminal charges and you just might have to go to jail. Money can buy a hell of a lot—but not everything.” Jack was grim.

Rick glanced at him, and Jack saw that he seemed to be listening. “Yeah, well … It wasn’t my fault,” he muttered again.

“I hate to see you spend another Saturday in detention,” Jack said truthfully.

“Tell them I’m sick!”

Jack hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, kid,” he said.

Rick slammed his back hard against the seat and stared straight ahead, arms crossed tightly. “You’re no different from all the rest.”

“Yes, I am,” Jack said. “But you won’t give me a chance.”

28

“A
dam.”

“What?”

Belinda took a breath against his shirtfront. His body was warm, hard. His hands on her back felt good. His cologne, now familiar, Lapidus for Men, was most definitely delicious. “Adam, you do know I’m buzzed?”

He spoke into her hair. “Umm. So am I. You smell good.”

She felt his mouth brush her temple. Desire, warm and tingly, pulsed gently through her. I’m not madly attracted to him, she thought. But with the wine and the stars, it would be so easy, and she knew she would enjoy it. Wasn’t this overdue?

But what about their relationship afterward?

“Belinda,” Adam said, lifting her face.

For a moment, their eyes met. He is handsome, she decided Very handsome, impeccably handsome. “I don’t know …”

Adam kissed her, He had an erection. She definitely liked the feel of that, and there was an answering swell in her own groin as he pulled her hips against his. She knew she had to make a decision. His tongue probed past her lips, and she let him.

Too much wine, she thought, opening her mouth to him. He was a very good kisser. An impeccable kisser. Not too insistent. Too much French kissing with a man she wasn’t mad for turned her off; somehow it seemed more intimate than the act of copulation. Adam sensed it with his impeccable timing and knew just when to withdraw.
So impeccable
.

She leaned back. “I’m buzzed. And I have to get up early. I don’t know, Adam.”

His body went tense beneath her hands. “It’s still early,” he said. “Belinda, you’re so beautiful. I want you. I’ve waited. Please.”

She was unsure of everything really, except that his thighs against hers felt strong and male and good. She closed her eyes, letting him pull her back hard against him. “Tonight is our night, Belinda.”

“Tonight it’s the wine, Adam.”

Their gazes met, and she saw that he was angry. “Damn, I’m too blunt sometimes. I’m sorry. Adam, I like you—you know I do.”

“Do you? Then show me, Belinda.”

She hesitated. “We’ve never really discussed things. Discussed us. Discussed what happens afterward.”

“Let’s discuss us now.”

“Is there an us?”

“God! I’m crazy about you! You must know it!”

She blinked at him. “What do you want from me?”

Adam hesitated, but only briefly, and when he spoke his voice was strong. “More than just your body, Belinda, more than just a night. I want lots of nights. And lots of days like today. I want to wake up every morning and reach for you and find you there. I want you in my life.”

She was stunned out of inebriation. Thoroughly stunned. “What are you saying?”

“I want to marry you.”

She stared.

He cupped her face. “Belinda, you must care for me—don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she said instantly. “We’re friends. But I’m not in love.”

“Give me a chance,” he said. “You haven’t given me a chance. You’ve been totally preoccupied with your career. You’ve held me at a distance. Let me into your life, Belinda, and I guarantee it will be good. We’ll be good.”

But will you let me down? she thought. Her heart was racing. She was feeling something suspiciously like fear. And
she knew she didn’t love him. But hadn’t she been keeping him at a distance on purpose? Hadn’t she been keeping all men at a distance on purpose? Ever since Rod had walked out on her she’d erected impenetrable walls, preferring men like Vince, men either married or not intellectually on her level, so that there was no question of ever facing the possibility of commitment and betrayal. It was almost ten years since Rod. Damn. Did she want to be alone forever?

I don’t mind. Really I don’t, she told herself.

Liar!

I have my work. I have myself.

Everybody needs somebody. It was a cliché, but true.

“Belinda?”

She looked at him. What harm was there in sleeping with him? She’d slept with hundreds of guys. It was a step in another direction, because Adam was eligible, but she could still keep him at a distance if she chose. Couldn’t she?

She smiled slightly. She gave him a look. An unmistakable one, one she’d perfected years ago. Adam’s eyes went hot. Belinda reached for her keys.

29

“B
elinda, I tried calling you all night last night.”

Belinda turned her back to the doorway, thinking, Oh, shit. Vince had better timing than Adam. So that had been him ringing repeatedly last night? She had disconnected the phone the third time, while Adam was expertly and insistently tonguing her clit, bringing her repeatedly to the brink of an orgasm, then refusing to take her any farther, until she couldn’t stand it. Until she was reduced to a quivering, begging mass of jelly. Now guilt assailed her. How come Vince had the knack of making her feel guilty and Adam didn’t?
And how come, even though Adam knew all the right moves and had superlative timing, there was something missing in his lovemaking, something that Vince had? And what was she, thirteen, to be comparing the two men? And just what in hell should she do about Vince? Or for that matter, about Adam?

Thank God I’m leaving for location today, she thought. It was the coward’s way out. She could postpone a decision until she returned.

“Vince, I’m sorry, I wound up celebrating yesterday. I got home buzzed and shut the phone off.”

“You’re leaving today.” He sounded both hurt and panicked. “I thought we were going to spend last night together.”

“I never said that.”

“I just thought … Look, I’m working, but let me drive you to the airport.”

“No, that’s okay,” Belinda said quickly. Right now she couldn’t handle him, especially being alone with him. If he drove her to the airport, he’d probably wind up giving it to her in a rest area. And that she didn’t need.

“Then stop by the job on your way out.”

“Look, I’m running late.” She glanced toward the hallway. Adam was still dressing in her bedroom. She really felt like a shit with him there and Vince on the phone like this.

“Belinda, I want to see you.”

She knew Vince. Although he was responsible, as far as she went he was like a pit bull. She imagined him leaving work and barreling over to her house to catch her before she left. “Okay, I’ll stop by.” Just as she hung up Adam came walking out. Belinda began to blush.

“Who was that?”

Belinda looked at him levelly. “Somebody I’ve been seeing.”

Adam stared. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“You never asked. It’s not serious, Adam.”

There was a long pause while Adam gazed at her, making Belinda feel naked. “Are you going to keep on seeing him?”

“That’s not fair, Adam. We haven’t discussed anything, and I haven’t thought about it.” Her tone was sharp. “I have to start packing.” It was strange, but she realized that she didn’t feel any closer to Adam today than she had yesterday.

His about-face was immediate. “Call me from Tucson so I have your number,” he said, looking at her warmly. He gave her a long kiss. Belinda couldn’t help it, her impatience was overwhelming. Finally, finally, he released her and was out the door and gone. His Mercedes was still turning over when she dragged a suitcase out of the closet. And began to face the knots suddenly twisting in her stomach.

She sat on the side of her bed and took a deep breath. Her nerves grew in intensity instead of dissipating. She was so tense, she almost felt sick. Why am I feeling this way? It was like being afraid. And she had to face it—she knew why she was suddenly sick with anxiety. It wasn’t just because she was going on a shoot for the first time in her life. God.

He probably wouldn’t even remember her.

She had stood him up. He would remember, all right. Once he saw her, at least.

What did she care? So what if he was upset or angry.

So what? He had to have a monstrous ego. No, he did have a monstrous ego. Not only did she know it from meeting him once, but she had heard all the stories about how difficult he was on the set, how demanding he was, how impossible to work with. And she had stood him up. He was the
star
. What if he insisted on a new writer? What if he got her thrown off the production? Damn! If he was holding a grudge, he could really damage her, really damage her career. Maybe he would be totally indifferent. Maybe he would be graceful about what had happened. Maybe he really wouldn’t remember her.

Jackson Ford.

Jackson Ford and her mother
.

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