To Catch a Star (10 page)

Her father was a strong man, a proud man, but they were so very much alike. Only she knew just how deep the scars of that long-ago winter’s night ran. Only she knew that another crack like that and the ice that held them together would shatter.

“Where is your mother now?” Christian asked.

“Buried somewhere in California, I believe. Her dreams didn’t quite turn out the way she hoped. She chased an illusion and when it failed her, she turned to drugs. She died of an overdose when I was fifteen.”

That was what happened when you thought only about yourself. You earned disgrace and dishonour. Amalie had lost her family, her friends, her social position and her wealth – and for what? An acting career that had never materialised.

That was not a mistake Teresa would ever make. Dreams were an illusion. Honour and family loyalty were all that mattered.

“I’m sorry,” Christian said.

She tossed her hair back. “I’m not. That’s what happens when you chase your own immediate gratification. She got what she deserved.”

She pulled her hands out of Christian’s. They were no longer frozen. But without Christian’s touch the numbness returned. She welcomed it.

It was better to be frozen than to feel.

“You look like hell. Anyone else tell you that yet today?” Dominic popped the top off a beer bottle and handed it to Christian.

It was after lunch and they were stretched out on the sofas in Christian’s trailer waiting to be called to set for their big duel scene. Christian would do his own stunts, and Dom would stand in for the movie’s arch villain, a classically trained British actor who fenced but baulked at their more rough-and-tumble style of sword-fighting.

“Only you. Everyone else tells me I’m gorgeous.”

“It’s my pleasure. That’s what friends are for.”

Christian swigged from the bottle. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” More accurately, he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

Every time he closed his eyes, he dreamed of long pale legs wrapped around him, and the only way to take the edge off the thrum in his blood so he could sleep was to hit the gym.

He wasn’t sure when this had changed from being a punishment for her to being a torment for him.

Perhaps it had been trusting her with more of himself than he’d shown anyone in years. Or that moment beside the river when he’d caught a glimpse of vulnerability beneath her perfect façade.

Or perhaps it had been every day since, when she’d acted as if that night had never happened. She’d gone back to being distant and professional. He’d gone back to being a pain-in-the-ass movie star.

“Can I ask you something – do you think I’m a good actor?”

Dominic opened another bottle for himself and took a long swig. “As long as I’m working on your pictures, you’re the best.”

“I’m being serious. The studio wants to sign me up for another project. Want to guess what it is?”

Dominic rubbed his chin as he pretended to think. “Blockbuster superhero movie part twenty-seven?”

“Bingo! As if that hasn’t been done before.” Christian sighed. “Don’t you sometimes feel as if we’re just making the same movie over and over again?”

His friend shrugged. “They
are
all the same, but what does it matter? The box office loves you, the studios love you. We’re living well off these movies.”

“But five years from now, the fans won’t even remember the name of this movie.”

“Five years from now
I
won’t even remember the name of this movie.”

“If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all?”

“Sure.” Dominic set his feet up on the coffee table. “What’s got into you?”

“Nothing.”

“How long has it been since you got laid?”

So long Christian had to think hard to remember. Certainly not since he’d met Teresa, in spite of the dates he’d asked her to set up for him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who could make love to one woman while thinking of another. And Teresa had taken to occupying way more time in his thoughts than he was willing to give.

Dominic laughed at his hesitation. “Good on Nina for making you work for it. You’re getting way too used to clicking your fingers and having everyone come running.”

“Not Nina.” Christian clamped his mouth shut, but not before Dom’s eyebrows shot upwards.

“Ah, the Ice Queen?”

Christian scowled. He didn’t want to feel this way about Teresa. She was one of Them.

Of course, he’d known it from the night they met. That air of superiority she wore like an invisible cloak, the lack of feeling. She belonged to that same set of upper-crust snobs who’d chased his mother out of Westerwald for no other reason than that she’d been an outsider, not one of them.

But even now it didn’t take more than a thought to conjure up the vision of that white-blonde hair spread loose and tousled across his pillow and Teresa smiling up at him. Not her usual cool, controlled smile, but that secret one he’d glimpsed so briefly, a look simmering with heat and desire.

He shoved the image away and took a long swig. He needed the alcohol almost as much as Dom did. Most of the time he appreciated his old friend treating him as he always had rather than as a big star. Today wasn’t one of those days.

Dom hadn’t taken it easy on him because the cameras were rolling, and he’d inflicted more than a few aches and pains during their morning fight sequence. Several hours of gruelling action, for the sake of a few minutes of screen time.

Christian swore and shifted in his seat. Even with the adrenalin still pumping, he ached all over. “Besides, she’s not my type.”

“All women are your type.”

“She never lets herself be real.”

“Yeah, and you’re a good one to talk!”

“She’s one of those bloody aristocrats, looking down her nose at everyone, like some sort of princess.”

If that magazine article was right, she’d been well on her way to being one too. She would have been perfect in the part. She already walked as if she owned the world, head high, shoulders back, not giving a damn what anyone thought of her.

“That’s your mother’s prejudice talking. You can take the boy out of Los Pajaros, but you can’t take Los Pajaros out of the boy. Do you have any more excuses?” Dominic took a swig from his beer.

Christian glared at him, but Dominic only laughed. “Have you considered you’re just mad cause she didn’t fall into your lap, and you’re not used to anyone saying no to you these days?”

Had he really become the ultimate cliché, wanting what he couldn’t have? Christian shrugged. “She didn’t say ‘no’ because I didn’t ask.”

“I never knew you to back down from a challenge.” Dom leaned forward, elbows on his knees and a twinkle in his eyes. “So ask! Just think – once you’ve had her, you can go back to getting some sleep.”

“It’s not that simple. The woman must be made of marble. None of the usual tricks work on her.” Either that or he really was losing his touch.

No matter what he did, Teresa remained aloof and out of reach. He’d tried charm. He’d tried arrogance. He’d tried ignoring her and playing hard to get. He’d even tried being friendly. But she still shied away from the slightest casual touch and lingering eye contact didn’t work on her either. Teresa barely blinked.

Usually he would have given up by now. No woman was worth the effort, and especially one of her kind. Yet Teresa Adler seemed to have a hold on him. Every day he spent with her, the desire in him burned more fiercely.

With an irrational intensity, he wanted to knock her down from that pedestal she lived on. He wanted to devastate her perfectly coiffed hair and melt the glacier and watch her feel real emotions for just once in her life.

Dominic was right. No one said “no” to Christian Taylor. No one but this uptight Ice Princess, who was so tightly wound she really needed to get laid. And he was more than happy to oblige.

But she was immovable. Impassive. Unreachable.

Dominic swigged from his beer bottle and grinned. They’d known each other long enough that he could read Christian’s moods. “Have I taught you nothing? Take the seduction into her corner. What is she interested in and what does she like to do?”

Christian had no idea. Normally on a date, he was the attentive one. Normally he let the woman do all the talking. But Teresa had turned him so inside out he’d spent the entire evening out with her talking about himself. Revealing himself. He had no clue what she liked to do.

“She volunteers for a charity,” he offered up.

“Great. Then be charitable. Don’t you have that photo op thing at the children’s home tomorrow? Take her along with you.” Dom stretched out on the sofa. “I’m sure she’d be worth the effort. Those ice queens are usually the hottest once you get them into bed.” He grinned. “If you’re not interested, I’ll take a shot at defrosting her.”

“Only if you don’t plan to use your limbs again,” Christian threatened.

There was a knock at the door and Christian stashed his beer bottle out of sight.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Teresa’s head appeared, accompanied by a blast of glacial air. “They’re ready for you on set.” She cast a pointed look at the beer in Dominic’s hand. “Should you be drinking that before a fight scene?”

Dominic set the beer can down, looking like the schoolboy who’d been caught smoking behind the bicycle shed. “No, ma’am!”

As she disappeared from sight, pulling the door closed behind her, Christian laughed. “What was that about taking your shot? Chicken!”

“Forget a princess, she’s like a bloody school marm.” Dominic rose and dusted off his creased trousers. The wardrobe ladies were not going to be impressed, though Christian was sure it wouldn’t be for long. No one ever stayed cross with Dom for long.

“Yeah, and I remember too well your school-marm fantasies. But if I catch you so much as laying a finger on her…”

“Yeah, yeah, working limbs and all that.” With a grimace, Dom bent and drew one long swig from the beer bottle before heading to the door.

No one knew better than Christian how much Dom needed something to take the edge off the pain these days, and a beer was far sight less harmful than the drugs most stunt men needed to get through each day. Dom often quipped that there were no old stunt men – and he was rapidly getting old.

Dom paused, his hand on the door handle. “Though if you’re going to try seducing her, you might consider being a little nicer.”

Christian pulled a face. “Nice” wasn’t usually what women wanted from him.

Teresa waited for them outside the trailer. On the surface, she’d come a long way since the day they met. The tailored pants suit and pearls were gone, replaced by heeled boots, skinny jeans, figure-hugging sweater, and a fur-trimmed vest jacket.

It took all his effort to pull his gaze off those skinny jeans.

The icy breeze funnelling between the motor homes stung roses to her cheeks and whipped tendrils of hair loose from the knot at the back of her head. She looked younger and a little less untouchable.

And a whole lot more like the woman he saw in his dreams.

Dom was right. He needed the dreams to stop. He needed to get Teresa out of his head and into his bed.

The end of another long week and they’d earned their day off.

Tessa sank back against the car’s plush leather upholstery. Her legs felt cramped, but she resisted the urge to stretch them out. She’d discovered Christian had a fascination for her legs, and his admiration didn’t do her blood pressure any favours.

Her blood pressure was already sky-high. Christian had unsettled her today, even more than usual. On the surface, he’d still been the same wisecracking livewire on set, but there’d been no pranks and no foolish errands. Almost as if he’d been trying to be
nice
to her.

She shook her head and returned to running through her mental list of all the things she needed to do tomorrow. Her personal to-do list had grown to stupid proportions. She was almost glad Stefan had been forced to extend his business trip. She wouldn’t have had time to see him anyway.

As soon as she saw Christian back to his hotel tonight, she was going home for a bath and that bottle of sauvignon blanc chilling in her fridge. And once she’d had at least eight hours’ sleep, she’d crack that to-do list, starting with collecting her engagement ring from the jeweller’s.

She pulled Christian’s schedule from her messenger bag. “You’re visiting the state children’s home tomorrow morning for a photo op, then you have the rest of the day off. Should I make lunch arrangements for you? Perhaps a trip to one of the vineyards upriver? Most are closed for the season but they’ll open for you.”

“I already have plans for tomorrow.”

She didn’t like his smile. It was way too smug. Did it involve a woman? And did she really want to know?

“I’ll meet you in the dining room at nine,” he said, sounding way too casual.

“
What?
”

“You have something else planned?”

“It’s the day off!”

His grin was wicked. “For the film crew. But if I have to work tomorrow, you do too.”

If she hadn’t been raised better, she’d have sworn. She was Christian’s whenever he needed her. So far twenty-four-seven had only meant one dinner out and a few completely unnecessary late-night phone calls giving her instructions he could just as easily have given her the next morning.

She gritted her teeth and nodded politely. She’d signed a contract, so her only option was to quit, and she wasn’t doing that until she got what she’d come for – a good look at Christian’s ring.

She turned back to the window, though she didn’t see much beyond it as she mentally readjusted her plans. She was going to have to ask Anna to fetch her engagement ring after all.

And tomorrow she’d have to figure out how to get what she wanted from Christian, because this needed to end. Now.

When the car pulled up beneath the hotel’s portico and the doorman stepped forward, she mustered every ounce of sweetness she possessed. “I hope you don’t have any plans for tonight. Your agent sent over a script you need to read. It’s in your suite.” She smiled. “And he needs to know if you’re interested by first thing LA-time tomorrow.”

The look on Christian’s face mirrored how she felt exactly.

So much for his day off.

The room was still dark. Christian cursed and smacked his ringing iPhone off the nightstand. It hit the ground with an ominous thud. At least the alarm went silent.

Damn. And Teresa had only just arranged this new phone for him.

He pulled the pillow back over his head, but it didn’t help. He was awake now. Awake and exhausted.

He groped over the edge of the bed for the phone. It still had signal and he had unread emails. He clicked the email icon. The message from his publicist he deleted without reading. He opened the one from his agent.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

This time, the phone didn’t hit the carpet. It ricocheted off the opposite wall with a sickening crunch and this time he didn’t care.

He burrowed down under the duvet. The rest of the world could just go to hell.

When he woke again, sunshine had crept through the gap in the curtains and left a streak of wan light across the bed. He rubbed his eyes. He had no idea what time it was or what had woken him, until a shadow crossed the ray of light.

“I thought I was going to have to call Frank to get you up.”