Lovers and Liars (28 page)

Belinda stared.

“If you don’t sleep with me …”He trailed off. His eyes were blazing with anger.

“I have to protect myself.”

“You really think I’m some egomaniacal asshole.”

“I have no idea who you are.”

“No?” His tone was hard. “Damn right you don’t! So don’t you go judging and labeling me—lady!” He was on her in two strides, but he didn’t touch her; he just towered over her, furious. “And the next time you wiggle your ass around me, I’m going to take what’s being offered. Is that clear?”

“I don’t—” she started, when there was another knock on her door. Saved!

“Like hell you don’t,” Jack spat out. “I’m only reading the lines the way you write them, baby.” He was at the door, flinging it open, barreling through.

Belinda’s heart was slamming. She didn’t turn around but fought for some equilibrium. “You can put the tray on the table.”

“What was he doing in here?”

Belinda whirled. “Adam!”

48

S
he really thought he was some kind of prick.

He couldn’t get over it—over her. If he were the bastard she assumed him to be, he’d force her to sleep with him
with the threat that he’d have her thrown off the production if she didn’t. Never, ever, in his life had Jack coerced or had to coerce a woman into his bed. And he wasn’t about to start now.

No matter how much she provoked him.

Because that was definitely what she was doing. Provoking him. As in provocative. Purposely. Jack knew it. He knew women too well not to know it. The real problem here, he decided, was that he was eating it up.

Because if he could manage not to be an attentive audience, it wouldn’t matter how often she wiggled her ass in front of him.

Jesus. She had turned him down.

First she had stood him up. Now she was turning him down.

He had a terrible, stabbing thought: Maybe she really wasn’t attracted to him. Maybe it was just a game to lead him along like some dumb, hard-up adolescent. And he was playing right into the palm of her hand.

Forget her, he told himself. Really forget her. She may be a good screenwriter, but she’s nothing but a cockteaser, and that you don’t need.

It was easier said than done. He couldn’t sleep. Her boyfriend was here, the same guy she’d been with the night they’d first met at Majoriis’s. Were they fucking right now? A very graphic fantasy assailed Jack, of her boyfriend thrusting a massive prick into her while she writhed in orgasm. He turned onto his stomach, hard now, and angry. Right now she was with that nameless nobody, when she could be with him. Not only had she turned him down, she had turned him down for someone else.

This was unfuckingbelievable.

   “Adam, you have no right to grill me.”

“Have you slept with him?”

“Am I an idiot? I want to stay as far away from him as possible!” She meant it. The truth must have sounded in her voice, because Adam relaxed and took her hand. They were sitting on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Belinda. It was just a shock to see him leaving—with you dressed like this.”

“It was a shock when he appeared here too.” She looked at Adam, but she was trying not to worry about Ford’s warning that he could hurt her for
not
sleeping with him. How come she hadn’t thought of that herself? And now what was she going to do? Would he apply the screws? “Just as your appearance here was a shock—is a shock.”

He smiled, drawing her hand against his chest. “Don’t be upset. I missed you.”

“In one day?”

“Yes.”

“Adam, you can’t stay here. I’m working. I’ve got enough problems right now.”

“I’m a problem?”

He was, of course, but Belinda couldn’t say so. “No, I didn’t mean that. But it’s not professional for you to be here.”

“I only came for a few days. What’s a few days? Today’s Wednesday. We’ll have the entire weekend.”

“No, we won’t,” Belinda said. “We’re working through this weekend and the next because Ford is here only for the two weeks before the Christmas break and we’ve got to shoot all his scenes. Adam, I’m sorry, but there’s no way you can stay. I wish you’d asked me first, before flying out.”

Adam’s jaw tensed; but then he relaxed again. “I can’t think straight where you’re concerned, Belinda. I should have called.”

“Look, Adam, why don’t you spend the day sightseeing tomorrow, and then we can have an early dinner. And then you can go back to L.A.”

He frowned, but as usual capitulated gracefully. “I suppose that’s better than nothing. Belinda, will you be going up to Aspen for Christmas?”

Her relief was short-lived. “How did you know I go up there for the holidays?”

He smiled. “You told me you’re a skier, and your parents have a condo there.”

She had forgotten. She had to tread cautiously. In fact,
she hadn’t even thought about Aspen, she’d had so much on her mind. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going. I’ve been invited to the Kellers’. You must know that their bash is
the party
of the Aspen season, and that everyone who is anyone will be there. Come with me.”

Of course she knew all about the Kellers’ annual Aspen Christmas party the fifteenth of December. She’d never been invited herself, although because of her connection with Abe, she could have gone if she’d cared to wrangle it. But it hadn’t been important to her. Now that she was a rising star in her own right, she thought of all the connections she might make. “Well …”

“Professionally speaking,” Adam said, “you shouldn’t miss it.”

“Okay.” Now there was only one hurdle left. “Adam, I’ve been up since five-thirty this morning. It’s ten o’clock now. I am exhausted.”

His disappointment was obvious.

“I’m sorry. I wish you’d phoned.”

“It’s okay,” he decided. “I admit I want to make love to you, but I didn’t fly all the way out here just for sex. I really wanted to see you, be with you.” He touched her cheek.

Guilt raised its head. Had she given Adam a single thought since she’d last seen him? “So we can call it a night?”

“As long as we’re on for tomorrow.”

“We’re on,” Belinda said somewhat wearily. She ushered him to the door. She dutifully accepted his kiss. And when he was gone she fell into bed; and her last thought before sleep claimed her was, of course, Jack Ford.

Smiling and oh-so-sexy.

49

A
bsolute silence reigned.

It was midday, even warmer than the day before, fluke weather, actually hot. There wasn’t a cloud in the November sky. Trucks, vans, generators, cables, lights, fans, special-effects backdrops, and masses of other equipment ringed the one empty space where they had been shooting all morning. It was a dry arroyo. Now Jack Ford and his costar, a stunning brunette, stood there motionless.

“Cut,” Mascione said without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

The brunette backed away from Jack. Ford stared hard at the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. Very slowly Mascione approached. “Relax, Jack, it’s okay. You’ll get it this time, I’m sure.”

When Ford looked up, his face was like a thundercloud.

Belinda, watching, bit her lip.

“Look,” Mascione said with a smile, “this time, when you say—”

“No.”

The one word, uncompromising in its tone, rang out in the desert’s quietude. The murmurings of the crew, just started, hushed. Mascione was silent. Belinda had known this was coming. He had been so magnificent yesterday, but today they’d been shooting the same take since eight this morning. And he wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t convincing. He wasn’t Nick Ryder.

“Jack?” Mascione asked.

“This dialogue isn’t right,” Jack said, and for the first time he looked at Belinda. “It’s not convincing.”

Everyone looked at Belinda.

She couldn’t help it, she began to flush.

“What do you mean, Jack, it’s not convincing?”

“It’s not convincing. Nick Ryder wouldn’t say these lines.”

Belinda gritted her teeth.

“Okay,” Mascione said. “Everyone, take twenty. Belinda, come here honey.”

Trying not to reveal what she was feeling, Belinda strode into the clearing. As if she hadn’t been able to hear every word, Mascione turned to her. “I think this dialogue needs a little fine-tuning. Why don’t you give it a try, honey?”

Belinda smiled—after all, it was easy to kiss his ass—and turned to Ford. He was staring at her. When her glance met his, something sparked between them. “What exactly would you like me to do?” Her tone was as sweet as the name Mascione had been calling her.

He stared. His eyes were intense, hot flames just beneath the surface. Belinda knew in that moment that he was remembering last night. Maybe, like her, he’d never stopped thinking about it.

“It’s stiff,” he said.

“It’s stiff. Thank you, that tells me a lot. Could you elaborate?”

Once his gaze was on her it seared and stuck, unmoving. “Ryder wouldn’t say this to Adrienne.”

“I see,” Belinda said, trying to control the combustion about to take place. “If you’re the expert on Ryder, why don’t you tell me what he would say?”

“Honey,” Mascione said quickly, “don’t get all peeved. We’re all trying to make a good product.”

Belinda ignored him, waiting.

“I don’t think,” Jack said, his gaze unwavering, “that he’d say anything. You’d see how he was feeling, from his eyes, his expression, his body.”

“You’re telling me,” Belinda said quietly, too quietly, “me, what Nick would do, what he’d say?”

“That’s right.”

They stared at each other.

She managed to stay calm. “I’m the writer.”

No response.

“I created Nick. Nick came from my heart, my soul. And you’re telling me you know him better than I do?” Her voice had tipped up.

“Honey, there’s no need to go on the rag!” Mascione interjected. He was starting to sound frantic.

“Yes,” Jack said, raising his own voice. “Nick wouldn’t say that to Adrienne. Believe me, I know. Nick’s a
man.”

“And because you share that particular male appendage with him—you know what he would say and do?”

“He sure as hell wouldn’t slobber all over Adrienne the way you have him doing!”

“He isn’t slobbering! He’s showing concern!”