Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (8 page)

Foreboding whispered down Nina’s spine. “What have you done now?”

Chrissie held up her mobile phone. Nina stepped closer to look at the picture that filled the screen. She and Dominic in the booth at 25 Degrees. It had been taken at the exact moment she’d leaned across to steal the fries off his plate. Dominic’s face was part-obscured, but hers was clear as daylight. The mix of hunger and mischief in her flushed face was unmistakable. On the plus side, she definitely did not look like a girl pining for her ex.

She looked like a girl in lust.

As long as no one realized it was food that had put that look on her face, rather than a man. Though the man hadn’t hurt.

“I had my photographer follow you,” Chrissie said, beaming. “You were so clever to choose that restaurant. There’s nothing more All-American than a burger diner. We’re going to turn you back into America’s sweetheart, everyone’s favorite girl next door. And now everyone will be wondering who this paragon is who’s stolen your heart from Paul.”

She still didn’t get it. Nina didn’t want to be the girl next door anymore. And she was pretty sure Dom didn’t want to be anyone’s paragon.

Dom reached over her shoulder and removed the phone from Chrissie’s hand. “Are there any other pictures?” he asked. His voice sounded tight.

“That’s the only one I’ve put up on Instagram so far. I’m drip-feeding them to keep the press intrigued.”

Nina had never seen Dom angry before. His lips pressed hard together and the skin around his mouth turned white with tension. His eyes glinted in a way that made her shiver. “I agreed to train Nina. I didn’t sign up to have my name and face dragged into the tabloids.”

Chrissie’s eyes widened.

“You upload any more pictures, or so much as whisper my name, and you’ll regret it. Get it?”

Chrissie nodded.

Without another word, Dom shoved the phone back at her, turned on his heel and strode from the room.

“Shit.” Chrissie laid a dramatic hand over her heart. “He can be scary. Does he really mean it?”

Nina nodded.

“I don’t get it. Who wouldn’t want to be linked to you?”

Nina didn’t get it either. She shrugged. Perhaps he thought it would interfere with his love life. “Dominic likes his anonymity.”

“He was the one who gave me the idea. The way he made it look as if you’d left the Vanity Fair party together…” Chrissie sighed. “It was all so perfect. He’s exactly the ‘ordinary man’ we were looking for.”

Nina shook her head slowly. Dom was anything but ordinary. “I thought you didn’t approve of him when you first met him?”

Chrissie shrugged. “Not when you still had a shot at Paul de Angelo. I mean
hello
? Paul’s an international superstar and your stunt man is a nobody. But since Paul isn’t an option any more, I have to admit the stunt man is a very nice piece of eye candy.”

Nina swallowed a smile. Better than nice. And it didn’t hurt that he had brains, too. And a sense of humor. And that crooked smile. “From now on, please run your plans by me first. Until then, can you make the press go away?”

She found Dom outside in the hall, leaning up against the wall. The pinched looked around his mouth had disappeared.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” he said.

“That was you losing your temper? You should see me in a rage sometime.”

He grinned and the knot inside her chest loosened. “I have. Remember that scene we shot on the pirate ship where you threw the dagger at Christian?”

She laughed. “You’re right. You’ve already seen me at my worst, haven’t you?”

Like after the commando course. He even had the picture to prove it. Now if
that
image ever found its way onto Instagram…

Dom nodded towards the door she’d just come through. “Will she back off now?”

Nina nodded.

“Good. Because I can’t train you with a media circus watching our every move. If this keeps up, it’s seriously going to affect your training.” His eyes brightened. “But I have a plan, and we’re
not
going to run it by your publicist. Will you trust me?”

She hoped he didn’t notice her pause. She nodded and forced a smile. “Is there any question?”

They met at Dom’s house. Dom and Nina, Wendy, and another of Dom’s sisters.

“Are there any other sisters I need to know about?” she whispered to Dom, once Kathy had given her the third degree.

“Laura and Moira,” he answered.

He had
four
sisters?

“Any brothers?” With any luck he’d have an equally hot brother – one who didn’t have an aversion to her.

He shook his head and handed her the tray of teas and coffees. She carried it to the dining room and set it down on what little space of the dining table Kathy had left clear of make-up and wigs.

“This one looks the most like Nina’s hair,” Kathy said, lifting up a long, sleek, dark-haired wig. “I’ll need to trim it to the right length, though.”

Yeah, it looked like her hair…after three hours of taming in a hair salon.

“I won’t pass for Nina,” Wendy said. “I’m too tall.” And too skinny. Nina bit back her bitter laugh. One of the best things about hangers-on was that they never said those kind of things where she could hear. People on the street, on the other hand, seemed to think she was deaf.
“She’s a lot bigger than I thought she’d be”
was a common refrain, right after “
She’s a lot shorter than I thought she’d be
.”

“You won’t have to stand in for Nina,” Kathy said. “Dom has a friend about the right build.”

A short while later, the friend let herself in the back door. “This is Vicki,” Dom said, giving the newcomer an affectionate hug. “She’s a stunt woman and part of my team.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed.

Vicki was fair to Nina’s dark, but they resembled one another closely enough. Except that where Nina had a tendency to plump, Vicki had a tendency to muscle. Not the butch kind of muscle, either, but the athletic,
I always look good in a bikini
kind.

While Kathy prepped the wig, Dom told them his plan. “In the dark, Vicki will easily be mistaken for Nina. Wendy, you’ll need to get her into Nina’s apartment. You pack a couple of suitcases for her, then she’s going to walk out the front entrance, get into your car in full view of the reporters, and you’re going to drive her to the airport. Make sure she’s followed and that everyone sees her go inside. At the airport, Vicki will lose the wig, change clothes, and head back here.”

Nina shook her head. “That’s a great plan, but the moment I go home again everyone will know it was just a ruse.”

“You’re not going home. That’s what the suitcases are for.”

She set her hands on her hips. “Since you seem to have all the answers, where exactly will I be living the next few weeks?”

She really didn’t want to book into a hotel. There was never any privacy in a hotel, and sooner rather than later someone would tip off the press.

“Here.”

Four mouths gaped open.

“Are you sure about that?” Kathy asked, recovering first.

Dom sipped his green tea. “Why not? No one will think to look for her here.”

“Because you haven’t lived with anyone in over a decade.”

“How hard can it be? It’s only for a few weeks.”

She would be with Dominic 24/7. The thought sank in and her heart sank with it. She needed her space. She needed to be able to escape from people and Dom’s house was, quite frankly, a train station with people coming and going.

But even worse was the thought that she’d be with
Dominic
24/7. To think there’d been a time when she’d wished she could find a man who wasn’t always trying to get into her pants. Now she’d found one, the idea of being around him without respite for her self-esteem, or her libido, gave her chills.

Her confidence really didn’t need any more knocks.

“Wendy can find me an apartment nearby.”

Dom shook his head. “It’ll be too risky. There’s certain to be someone who’ll recognize you coming or going, and then we’ll have the press back on our heels again.”

She didn’t point out that someone could notice her coming and going from Dom’s house, too. Or were women coming and going such an everyday thing that his neighbors no longer even noticed?

Her jaw clenched. “You aren’t worried I’m going to cramp your style?”

Dom’s mouth curved in that crooked grin that set her stomach fluttering. “I can survive a few weeks without bringing someone home, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, we’re going to be working most of the time. There won’t be time for anything else.”

Kathy sat Nina and Vicki side by side as she worked on Vicki’s make-up. Nina was fidgeting in her seat by the time Kathy applied the finishing touches, though this hadn’t taken even half as long as her daily make-up routine for her role in
Pirate’s Revenge
.

“Wow, that’s brilliant,” Wendy said. “As long as no one gets too close, they’ll believe it’s Nina they’re seeing.”

“Kathy’s a professional make-up artiste and a damn good one,” Dom said, from the living room, where he was now playing a game on the Wii. “She works on TV commercials.”

“Handy for you,” Kathy threw back, with an impish grin that matched her brother’s.

“How often do you guys do this?” Wendy asked.

Kathy winked. “More often than you can imagine.”

After Wendy and Vicki left, Kathy packed up her make-up kit. She glanced over her shoulder at Dom, still engrossed in his game in the living room, and dropped her smile. “Make sure he doesn’t overdo it these next few weeks. If he hurts himself training you, I’m going to hold you responsible,” she said in a low, urgent voice.

She let herself out the back door and Nina stared after her. She thought her own sister was over-protective, but Dominic’s sisters took it to a whole other level. One only had to look at the man to know he could take care of himself.

With nothing to do but wait, she headed to the guest room and ran a hot bath full of bubbles. Maybe along with soaking away the day’s muscle strain, she could soak away the tension the Kelly sisters seemed to inspire in her.

Dom tossed the Wii controller on the sofa and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. What was Nina doing in there? He’d heard the bath water running, but surely she couldn’t
still
be in the bath?

For the thousandth time he pictured her lying there, nothing but bubbles to cover her nakedness. His body stirred.

What if she’d fallen asleep in the bath? Perhaps he should go check on her. Halfway down the hall he heard the soft click of a door and caught himself.

This was stupid. If she was going to stay with him for several weeks, he’d have to get used to having a hot, naked woman on the other side of the door. And he’d have to get used to keeping his hands to himself.

He opened the glass patio doors and whistled for Sandy. He would take a run. Though it was already growing dark, a run was sure to dispel some of the testosterone coursing through him.

Client. Actress. High maintenance. Nina.
As he pounded the pavement, Sandy lolloping alongside him, he repeated the mantra over and over in his head. All the reasons he needed to keep his hands off her.

Only she hadn’t seemed so high maintenance when she’d lain her head on his chest that night on the beach. Or when she’d endured the obstacle course without a word of complaint. The course was designed for elite police training, not for pampered movie stars, but she hadn’t pouted or complained or given up. He’d expected her to beg for a rest at least once. But she hadn’t, and that, more than anything, had finally convinced him to train her.

Whoever Nina was, she wasn’t the sunny, easy-going personality she projected to the world. Nor was she the vulnerable, haunted woman he’d glimpsed on the beach at Point Dume. The Nina who’d done the obstacle course yesterday was driven, stubborn, determined. She was a woman who didn’t take “no” for an answer, and who never gave up.

He admired her.

But no matter how low maintenance she was, no matter how different from the actresses he’d met before, Nina wasn’t an easy-come, easy-go kind of girl either, and for Dom there was no other kind worth contemplating. He’d developed a super-sensitive radar where women were concerned, and he could tell at thirty paces if she was the kind of woman who’d expect him to still be there when she woke up in the morning.

No matter what she’d told de Angelo at the
Vanity Fair
party, Nina was one of those women.

Dom ran harder, further, and faster than he usually did these days, until the pain in his hip was too much to bear. He had to slow to a walk for the return trip.

He might as well not have bothered for the good it did. When he walked in the door, she was on the sofa with her legs curled beneath her as she read a book. She wore a pair of yoga pants that molded to her hips and a loose-fitting t-shirt, her hair twisted up into a messy knot on her head.

“You’re blonde!”

And she wore glasses. He hadn’t known she wore glasses. It was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, and that was before she looked up at him and smiled, a flirty smile that brought out the laughter in her dark eyes.

He was hard all over again. Back to square one.

At least the change in focus made the pain in his hip more bearable.

“Do you prefer blondes?” she asked, batting her long eyelashes. “I thought I might be a little less recognizable like this.”

He shrugged. He preferred her as a brunette, but he wasn’t about to admit to any preference where she was concerned.

Disappointment at his lack of reaction flashed through her eyes, then she returned her attention to her book and he busied himself in the kitchen, throwing spaghetti into a big pot on the stove and stirring up a sauce. After a while, Nina laid her book aside and came to stand beside the kitchen counter. “Do you need any help?”

He shook his head.

“I should have guessed you can cook.”

He shrugged. “If you’ve ever tasted my mother’s cooking, you’ll know why I taught myself to cook.”

She laughed, then looked away. “Vicki brought my stuff.”

He nodded.

“I invited her to stay but she had other plans.”

He nodded again. If she’d asked Vicki to stay, perhaps that meant Nina wanted to be alone with him about as much as he wanted to be alone with her.

She toyed with the salt cellar on the counter and wouldn’t make eye contact. He’d seen his sisters do the same thing enough times to know what it meant.

“Spit it out,” he said. “Whatever it is you want to ask.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth again, something he noticed she did when she was nervous. And when she wasn’t wearing her buoyant movie-star persona. “Were you and she…?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said firmly, and reached for a bottle of wine from the rack above his head. He made no apologies for the women he’d known, and he had nothing to hide, but he felt a sudden and urgent need for alcohol.

He passed the bottle to Nina. “There’s an opener in the drawer behind you and glasses in the cabinet.”

She poured the wine and handed him a glass.

“You not having any?” he asked. She shook her head, biting her lip again. God, she had to stop doing that. It turned her lips plump and pink, making her look as if she’d just been thoroughly kissed. If only.

Nina helped to set the table, opening and closing cabinets to find where everything belonged. He had to grit his teeth against the intrusion and remind himself that this was going to be her home too for the next few weeks, and he had no one to blame for the invasion into his space but himself and his big mouth.

Still, it made better sense to have her close and away from public scrutiny if they were going to get results.

When the food was done, he served it into bowls and they moved to sit at the dining table. He hadn’t sat at the dining table in years. Dinner was usually on a tray in front of the television. The only company he ever had who stayed for meals were family.

They ate in silence and he noticed as her eyes began to droop. When they were done, and she rose to help clear away, he took the bowls out of her hands. “Go sleep. You’ve earned it. I’ll see you at six-thirty in the morning.”

At seven o’clock he ceased his pacing and knocked on her bedroom door. There was no response, so he pushed the door open. The room was still in darkness, the curtains pulled shut. He strode across the room and threw them open. The morning light drew a whimper from the bed. Nina lay with her face buried in the pillows. She pulled the sheet over her head to block out the sunlight.

“You’re late,” he said. “Get up.”

“Just another ten minutes,” she begged. Her voice was huskier than usual, going straight from his ears to his groin.

“You’ve already had ten minutes. Three times.”

“I think my alarm clock might be faulty. It keeps switching off.”

“It’s called the snooze button.” He hoped she was decent under the sheet. If she wasn’t, she was about to have a very rude awakening. He pulled the sheet off her and breathed a sigh of relief. Or disappointment.

Beneath the sheet she wore a pair of boyish boxers and a gray t-shirt with the words
In Your Dreams
emblazoned across her chest.

Yeah, she had been.

“You’re such a drill sergeant,” she complained, trying to pull the sheet back over her head.

He held tight on to it. “That’s Sergeant Dominic to you. Now get up. I want you out of bed and ready for a run in ten minutes.”

“I won’t even be able to get my make-up done in ten minutes!”

“The later we leave, the more populated the beach will be, the more chance there is you’ll be seen.”

Ten minutes later she was dressed. Sans make-up. He grinned. Her buttons were way too easy to push.

They jogged the short way down the narrow walk street between houses to the beach, Sandy running excited circles around them.

Today he pushed Nina further than they’d run the day before. “By the end of your second week you should be able to run the entire distance from Venice Beach pier to the Santa Monica pier and back again.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” she said, panting for breath.

“Nonsense. I usually do that distance every day.” At least he had until he’d done his hip in.