The Spiral Path (6 page)

Feeling
her stomach knotting, Rainey said, "Will you be able to visit me during
shooting? It would he great to see you in either New Mexico or England."

"I
think I can make it. I have a ton of vacation I haven't taken."

"I'll
expect you then. Heck, I'll cast you as an extra if you want."

"Short,
Rubenesque redheads do not make ideal extras. Too conspicuous."

"You're
not Rubenesque--you have a great, curvy female figure. You'd make a nice Cockney
flower girl in one of the London scenes."

Val
hooted. "Better yet, hooker. Or would that get me disbarred?"

"Propositioned,
maybe, but not disbarred."

After
they hung up, Rainey called her lawyer. She wanted Kenzie's contract drawn up
and signed quickly, before he could have second thoughts.

She
needed to call her cast and key crew members to tell them the project was
definitely a go. Instead she stayed sprawled on the bed with the phone resting
on her midriff. Since it was impossible to keep thoughts of Kenzie at bay,
maybe it was easier just to give in and get them out of her system.

"Since we're
going to work together, how about joining me for dinner so we can get better
acquainted?" Kenzie suggested as they left the studio where Rainey had won
the role of Marguerite St. Just.

She
accepted with giddy pleasure, and he took her to one of the fashionable
restaurants where you had to be Somebody to get a table. Kenzie's fame was the
kind that got them instantly escorted to a private corner booth. For three
hours they talked back and forth over trendy food that she barely noticed. She
asked questions to draw him out, since she'd never met an actor who didn't love
talking about himself. He turned the tables by asking about Rainey, and had
been genuinely interested in her answers. He had the deeply flattering ability
to give a woman total attention, as if nothing in the world was more important
than her.

Soon
they were trading stories about the ups and downs of their careers. She
described almost getting herself killed riding a motorcycle for
Biker Babes
from Hell,
while he hilariously explained the difficulties of emoting to a
blank wall that would later acquire a monster created from special effects.

Rainey
hadn't had so much fun in years, and she didn't hesitate when he suggested they
go to his house to rehearse their parts. It was as obvious a pickup line as
she'd ever heard, but she felt reckless and willing to take events as they
came.

Outside
the restaurant, several paparazzi immediately closed in, cameras flashing and
questions snapping. Rainey flinched at the abrasive intrusion on their evening.
On her own, she never attracted this much attention. A photographer called,
"Hey, Kenzie, who's the classy babe?"

"We
should have gone out the back," Kenzie said under his breath. He put a
protective arm around her shoulders and said more loudly, "My cousin, Lady
Cynthia Smythe-Matheson. We were childhood playmates."

The
reporters laughed. "No way!" one said good-naturedly. "I know
I've seen her around town."

"I
doubt it. Lady Cynthia has been doing relief work with African orphans."

"Yeah,
and Queen Elizabeth is your grandmother!"

The valet drove up in Kenzie's Ferrari.
He helped Rainey into the car, and they drove away while the reporters were
still debating her identity. Bemused, she said, "I know you're famous for
never giving a straight answer about your personal life, but really--Lady
Cynthia Smythe-Matheson?"

"Would
you rather have had your name linked with mine in all the gossip columns
tomorrow?" he asked dryly. "It would be good publicity for you."

"I
thought tonight was personal, not professional. I'd like to keep it that
way."

"So
would I, for as long as possible."

She
settled back, enjoying the sensation of being swept along in one of the world's
most extravagant cars. Kenzie drove with effortless control, rather like his
acting. They hardly spoke on the drive to Broad Beach. As they glided past the
endless lights of Los Angeles, Bach's Brandenburg Concertos played softly on
the compact disk player.

She
felt as if she'd fallen into a dream and would wake to find herself in her
first drab Los Angeles apartment, with her recent successes and Kenzie Scott
mere wishful thinking. But he was too masculine, too intensely real to be a
figment of her imagination. She really was inches away from one of the world's
most recognizable and desirable men--and he liked her. Or perhaps just lusted
for her, but it was heady stuff nonetheless.

Surf
drummed in the background when he stopped at his gatehouse to punch in a security
code. Within the walls, subtle lighting highlighted the palms and flowers of
California landscaping in a fair approximation of fairyland. When they parked
in front of the house and he came around the Ferrari to help her out, she slid
out with impeccable grace, no mean feat in a sports car.

The
biggest shock came when they went inside. He really did want to rehearse.

In
a softly lighted family room overlooking the Pacific, he handed her a copy of
the
Pimpernel
script and they set to work. He already knew all the
lines, damn him. She felt awkward using the script, but relaxed as they began
running through their joint scenes. He'd had longer to think about the story,
so she welcomed his suggestions about what might work for Marguerite. Wonder of
wonders, he listened thoughtfully when she made her first hesitant comment
about Sir Percy, then tried her idea and agreed that it worked.

After
that, it was like being in drama school, happily batting ideas back and forth
as they became comfortable with the characters. The creative thrill of that was
more intoxicating than the wine she'd drunk at dinner. Perhaps his desire to
rehearse was a subtle and very effective form of seduction, because there was
great intimacy in playing lovers, and in the fitting together of their minds
and acting styles.

Things
were getting very tense between Sir Percy and Marguerite when Rainey flipped a
page halfway through the screenplay. "The ballroom scene. It will be fun
to learn the minuet. I wish I knew it now."

"Fake
it." Kenzie opened a cabinet to reveal hundreds of compact disks.
Selecting one, he put it in the CD player and the room filled with the delicate
precision of late eighteenth-century dance music. He held out his hand.
"Will you dance, my lady?"

He
spoke coldly, a man who loved a woman he couldn't trust Knowing the request was
really an order, Rainey gave him her hand but lifted her head haughtily, a
woman who didn't understand her husband's withdrawal, and was too proud to show
her pain.

In
stony silence they circled each other, gazes locked. Rainey felt a disorienting
mixture of Marguerite's emotions and her own. Each of them was unsettled by her
partner. In Marguerite's case, the reasons were obvious and would be resolved
by the end of the movie, but Rainey's situation was far more uncertain.

Kenzie
Scott was dangerously attractive, and he knew it. There was something very real
here, yet he was a stranger to her, a man famously protective of his privacy. A
man who could injure her deeply if she wasn't careful.

To
relieve the electricity crackling between them, she said, "You're really
good at this. Do they teach period dancing at the Royal Academy of Dramatic
Art?"

"Yes,
we learned all the major dances in movement classes."

"I
envy your education." She spun away from him, their hands still linked.
"The RADA graduates I've met are such good actors, prepared for
everything."

"It's
ultracompetitive--hundreds of hopefuls audition for a handful of places."
He drew her toward him again. "The rejection is good preparation for an
actor's life."

"You've
known less rejection than most."

"I
was a good instinctive actor, but instinct will only take one so far. RADA
taught me the craft and discipline of acting. How to let a character play
through me, rather than me playing the character. How to hit the same emotional
point again and again and have it ring true each time. How to be a
professional."

"You're
making me even more envious. I learned piecemeal in various acting classes and
workshops."

"Wherever
you studied, you learned well, Rainey. I imagine that RADA students and
atmosphere weren't much different from your workshops."

She
laughed. "Everyone obsessed with acting, wildly melodramatic about their
lives, and half the class sleeping with the other half, with partners changing
regularly?"

His
eyes glinted with humor. "Acting classes are the same the world
around."

The
music ended and they both slid back into character. "Farewell, my lady. I
do not know if I shall return."

Since
the script called for a kiss, Rainey went into his arms. "Don't leave me
like this, Percy! What have I done to deserve such coldness?"

Instead
of Sir Percy's swift, unhappy kiss, Kenzie's mouth met hers with gentle
exploration. She fell into him like a thirsty woman discovering water in the
desert. He was so close that she saw he wasn't wearing contact lenses--that
incredible green was real.

Hollywood
had changed her from a rebellious girl to a self-protective woman. She had
avoided casual affairs because it wasn't her nature to be casual and she
couldn't afford distractions. But dear God, how she had hungered for warmth.
Amazingly, under Kenzie's movie star glamour he seemed to yearn for intimacy as
much as she did.

His
hands skimmed her back as the kiss deepened. Soft, expert, passionate.
Weak-kneed, she whispered in a last halfhearted effort at defense, "I can
see why you have a reputation as a terrific lover."

"If
I slept with even a quarter of the women the gossip columnists claim, I'd have
died of exhaustion years ago." He tugged her down onto the sofa so that
she was lying full-length along his strong, beautifully fit body.

She
buried her hands in waves of dark hair grown long for the part he was going to
play. Too many men looked on kissing as merely a step on the road to
intercourse. Not Kenzie. His mouth and hands learned her with luxurious
patience. No attempts to rip off her clothing or rush to greater intimacy.

His
restraint made her feverish with longing. Even as a hormone-crazed adolescent,
she hadn't felt like this. As he kissed her throat, she said huskily, "So
we're going to have an affair?"

"Yes.
But not until we've finished shooting
The Scarlet Pimpernel."

"You're
kidding!" She pulsed her pelvis against his. "Granted, it's been a
while since I had a personal life, but you feel quite ready now."

He
caught his breath, then lifted her so that they were reclining side by side in
the deep cushions. Stroking back her hair, he said, "Think of what waiting
will add to the sexual tension in the movie."

She
erupted into slightly hysterical laughter, torn between intense frustration and
deep relief that matters would go no further tonight. She wasn't ready for what
she sensed lay ahead. "That's diabolical--but you're right. Very well,
Kenzie, we have a hot date for when this movie is over."

He
raised her hand and kissed her fingers tenderly. "And, I hope, some warm
and friendly ones before then."

That
was when she lost her heart to him. But it was a long time before she admitted
that, even to herself.