Authors: Mari Carr
Rough Cut (3 page)
script given his busy schedule. As an author, she had the luxury of uprooting herself from her New York apartment since she could do her writing anywhere. Have laptop, will travel.
She’d been in town eight restful, perfect days, hanging out by his pool, sight-seeing, eating in fancy restaurants. He was an amazingly attentive host when his schedule permitted, though he hadn’t lied about the fact that his day-to-day routine was hectic, to say the least. Most nights she read or wrote in the charming guest house while he walked the red carpets and attended more meetings than the president.
Around one a.m., Ty slipped into her room. “How come you’re sleeping in pajamas?”
She grinned at his question, no longer alarmed by his sudden appearances in her room. “Gee, I
wonder if it has anything to do with these late-night visits.”
“I think I should set the record straight and let you know that I most definitely was
not
offended by your nudity. Quite the opposite actually.”
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“My pajamas are staying on,” she answered. “I hope when it comes time to start writing our script,
you will bear in mind that I’m a morning person. I can’t think at night. Every book I’ve written was put down on the pages between the hours of six a.m. and noon. After that, I’m cooked.”
Ty sat heavily in the padded armchair by her bed and leaned his head back. She could see the dark
circles under his eyes even in the dim moonlight. “I’ll try to remember that, but I gotta warn you, my body’s clock is the complete opposite of yours. I don’t begin to fully function until early afternoon.”
“Must have something to do with these late hours you insist on keeping. How was your movie
premiere?”
“Predictable,” he replied through a yawn.
“How was your starlet?” He’d taken Jasmine Court, the hottest female property in Hollywood, for a
stroll on the red carpet tonight. Gwen struggled to push back the nagging jealousy she’d felt when he’d told her who he was going out with. Regardless of her insistence that things remain platonic between them, her body seemed to constantly cry out for him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so sexually attracted to a man before. Of course, she consoled herself with the realization that every woman in America was lusting after him as well. At least, in that regard, she was normal.
“She’s a lesbian,” he said quietly.
“Really?” She constantly struggled to figure out when he was kidding and when he wasn’t. Most of
his comments were delivered so deadpan, she despaired of ever understanding his dry sense of humor.
“I owed her manager a favor and he decided to collect. I managed to do my part for this twisted
Hollywood society and kept up the appearance of their golden girl’s straight image for another night.”
“I suppose I’ll get to read all about your torrid love affair tomorrow in the tabloids.”
“Oh yeah and then next week, when her manager finds another hot stud to pretend to be in love with
her, I’ll be jealous and heartbroken and every dark mood I have for months afterwards will be attributed to our nasty breakup. Christ, I’m sick of this shit.”
She studied him as he lounged in the chair. Typically, their nighttime banter was playful, teasing in
nature.
Tonight, his head was thrown back against the headrest, his eyes were closed and his hands were
clenched together tightly against his chest. Despite the weariness she could see in every part of his body, he seemed tense, even a bit angry.
“So why not retire?”
He chuckled, though the sound held no mirth and he opened his eyes to look at her. “I’m only forty.”
She smiled. “And you have enough money to live in comfort ’til you’re two hundred and forty. So
why keep doing it? Why keep up this ridiculous pace?”
He shrugged and she knew by his gaze he wasn’t going to answer her question.
“How old are you?” he asked.
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She recognized his question for what it was. After only a week together, she was well-aware of his
tendency to change the subject if he didn’t like the current one.
“Thirty-four.”
“How come you never got married?”
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. His gaze had become too intense, too serious, and
she’d felt for a moment as if she could drown in the depths of his deep blue eyes.
“I’m not sure,” she said, once she’d regained her wits. “I suppose you’ve noticed that, unlike you, I’m a bit of an introvert. I’m one of those lucky few who found success as an author fairly young, but writing isn’t one of those careers that leads to meeting a lot of people. I spend a great deal of time in my house alone with my laptop.”
“You don’t date at all?”
“Oh sure. I’ve dated plenty, but I’ve noticed since I turned thirty that the pool of available men has dwindled and unfortunately, most of what’s left is the duds who’ve been thrown back.”
“Gee thanks.” She giggled at his response.
“Present company excluded, of course.” She looked over at him.
He rubbed his eyes and she felt her heart stirring at his vulnerability. For all his money and fame, she saw a tired, weary man, and before she could think about it, she reached out toward him with her hand.
“Come here.”
He glanced up in surprise, then took her hand. She tugged until he rose, directing him toward her with a pull. “Crawl in.”
She scooted over and watched as he lay down beside her.
“You’re inviting me to your bed?”
“To sleep,” she clarified. “I have a feeling you’re too tired to make the trek back across the lawn to your own bed or to be much use for anything else.” He grinned at her taunt, no doubt willing to prove her words false, but she put up her hand. “Just the same, stay on your side of the bed, Hollywood.”
He smiled tiredly at the nickname and his eyes drifted shut slowly. “Good night, gorgeous,” he
whispered, seconds before she heard his breath steady and deepen with sleep.
He truly had been exhausted. She ran her hand lightly over his brow, pushing back his chestnut hair
and staring at his handsome face. It was no wonder every woman in the world had a crush on the man. With his chiseled jaw and strong cheekbones, he was destined to be a heartthrob. His blue eyes tipped with long, thick lashes could turn women to jelly with a single glance.
And yet, she sensed there was so much more to him than his classic good looks. In the past week,
she’d discovered his intelligence, his humor, his undeniable drive to constantly succeed. More than that, she felt drawn inexplicably to the core of strength that seemed to flow from his soul, pulling her toward him in ways she couldn’t understand.
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She felt an irrefutable need to give herself to this man in ways she’d only ever dreamed of alone in the dark of night, in ways she knew were twisted and wrong. Yet, he seemed to call to the most secret desires of her heart. She closed her eyes, desperate to block out the emotions, the needs he provoked. She shuttered her heart securely against him, willing away the shattered, scarred truth with all of her might.
No, she told herself harshly.
No.
“Now this is the way I like to wake up,” a deep voice said beside her.
Gwen opened her eyes, briefly surprised to find her face only inches away from Ty’s. She blinked a
few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, then their nighttime conversation drifted back through her consciousness.
“You were supposed to stay on your own side.” Her voice was gruff with sleep. As she came fully
awake, she became aware of his hand lightly rubbing a bare bit of skin at her waist, beneath her T-shirt.
“So sue me.” He leaned so close to her the only air she could feel was that of his soft breath on her
cheek. His hand stopped caressing her waist and instead gripped it, pulling her even closer to him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered, despite the fact her hands were resting, unresisting, on his chest. She’d placed them there to push him away, but instead the traitorous things were exploring the rock-hard definitions of his pecs.
“I think a kiss in the morning is always a good idea.”
“Just a kiss?” She cursed her sudden breathlessness.
“Just a kiss, Gwen.” She was shocked by her disappointment until he added, “for now.”
His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered at the impact. His mouth wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t easy.
He took her lips with a roughness that proclaimed his possession. He took everything she offered with her lips and tongue and demanded more. His hands drifted up to her face, engulfing her cheeks in his firm grip, turning her head exactly the way he wanted it. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and she thought for a moment she heard him growl before his tongue plunged into her mouth, tangling with hers. She’d never
been kissed like this in her life and the feeling was heady. It made her dizzy, giddy, reckless and she suddenly realized she wanted more. Hell, she wanted all.
She reached up and held his face to hers, twisting her fingers in his hair. He mimicked the action with her own long tresses and she was amazed by her reaction to his rough touch. Each time he pulled her hair, the sensation of pain flowed pleasurably down her body, causing her hips to flex, searching for relief. Her body felt as if he’d set it aflame and she found her reactions shockingly animalistic.
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“Harder. Pull harder,” she begged and he responded in turn. His lips trailed along her face, his rough beard scratching her sensitive skin until he reached her ear. He bit her earlobe, pulling her hair at the same time and she cried out, her hips gyrating wildly.
His hard body came over hers as he took control of her wrists, dragging them above her head and
holding them firmly in place with one of his hands. She sensed he knew what his actions were doing to her as he pressed his covered cock firmly between her legs, letting her feel the proof of the desire they shared.
She wanted to scream at him to take off his pants and give her what she needed, but instinctively she knew he would refuse her.
“Shhh.” He tightened his grip on her wrists while planting soft, sweet kisses on her face. “Calm down, gorgeous.”
She was panting, frustrated, and she foolishly felt as if she were on the verge of tears.
He leaned back at the sound of her soft cry, the look on his face a perfect mixture of shock, awe and
naked, red-hot desire.
He smiled as she struggled to regain composure, her body screaming for relief.
“I can see there will be no such thing as innocent kisses with you,” he said.
She blinked rapidly, determined he shouldn’t see the tears threatening to fall. Christ, she was a fool.
“I-I, shit.” She struggled to free her hands. He released her and she pushed him away. He moved over
easily and she realized she wouldn’t have been able to budge him if he hadn’t permitted it. She walked away from the bed, pressing her back against the wall for support.
“This is not, I mean, I don’t—” She was gasping for air and her voice and her body betrayed her,
shaking uncontrollably.
He sat up slowly and she knew he was deliberately keeping his movements unhurried lest he frighten
her. “Gwen, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
She wanted to laugh at the understatement of his words. He’d pulled her hair, held her down and
she’d responded like a bitch in heat. He didn’t think that was wrong, weird?
“I told you before, Ty. I want us to keep our relationship professional. Sex muddies the water. You
know that.”
“No, I don’t think I do. Gwen, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that we’re attracted to each other sexually. Shit, I can’t think of anything I want more than to tie your lovely body to that bed and bury myself between those hot thighs of yours.”
“Stop it! Stop saying stuff like that. It isn’t going to happen. Ever.”
He scowled at her words and rose from the bed, crossing to where she stood, trembling. “Well, I think
you and I are about to have our first disagreement.”
He leaned toward her as she pressed her body flat against the wall. He caged her in, grasping her
hands by the wrists once again and pressing them against the flat surface, just above her head. “You and I
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are most certainly going to have sex, Gwen. Hard, hot, incredibly intense sex and you’re going to love every minute of it.”
“You smug, conceited—”
“Pull your pants down,” he said as he loosened his grip.
She wanted to deny him, wanted to drive her fists against his chest and tell him to get the hell away
from her, but his deep voice, his demanding words spoke to the loneliest part of her soul and she felt as if she’d been sunk neck-deep in quicksand.
“Pull them down now,” he repeated, his voice commanding. Clearly he expected her to comply. This
was so wrong. God dammit, it was wrong. And yet her body felt alive for the first time ever.
She reached for the waistband of her pajama bottoms and she slowly shimmied the soft cotton over
her hips. The material fell to her ankles and she stepped out of it, never taking her gaze off his determined face.
“Good girl,” he murmured and she raised her hand to slap him for his condescending comment. He
caught her wrist and pressed it against the wall. “You don’t want to do that.”
She closed her eyes in surrender and he released her hand.
His dominant actions, his powerful words, were truly soothing her weary soul, despite the fact her
head was demanding she run away from him. Ty Ransome was the one man who could be her complete
and utter downfall, yet rather than escape, she found herself relishing every touch, every word he offered.
