When Lightning Strikes (18 page)

She didn’t take the bait. Grabbing his shirtfront, she tried to
yank him toward her. When she couldn’t budge him, and he started chuckling at
her efforts, she stood on her tiptoes so she could come nose to nose with him
instead. “Don’t mistake the tranquil setting here in Whiskey Creek for privacy
or anonymity.
Everyone’s
watching. You do one thing
wrong in this town and you can say goodbye to making yourself remotely
respectable.” She let go and brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt. “And I’d
rather you didn’t make a fool of me in front of the home crowd, if you get my
meaning.”

He lowered his gaze to her lips. She was so close he could
smell the mint of her chewing gum. If he kissed her, he’d probably taste it,
too. “I guess that leaves us with only one alternative.”

“And that is?”

Tilting her chin up, he brought his mouth within a hairbreadth
of hers. “You can’t guess?”

“Sure I can.” Shoving his good hand up against his crotch, she
said, “Have fun,” and walked away.

Apparently she’d had enough of his teasing. But something about
her reaction to her old flame triggered an unpleasant response in him.

It couldn’t be jealousy, he told himself. It had to be wounded
pride. He wasn’t used to being upstaged.

Unwilling to let her have the last word, he called after her,
“You’re supposed to want
me. I’m
the movie star!” as
if he was the egotistical ass so many of the tabloids described.

“Some women prefer professional athletes to self-absorbed movie
stars,” she retorted, and when she reached the stoop, she tossed a taunting
smile over her shoulder. “You should see how
big
Matt is.”

Simon felt his eyebrows jerk together. “You’re talking about
height, aren’t you?”

No answer. She was trying to unlock the door.

He strode over to the porch. “You can’t compare what you
haven’t seen. To be fair we should go into the bedroom and check it out. I’m not
afraid of a little competition.”

“I want a divorce,” she grumbled as she finally got the door
open.

Trying not to laugh, he swatted her bottom. “I seem to have
that effect on women.”

* * *

Bringing a movie star home to Whiskey Creek wasn’t
turning out like Gail had imagined. Her father and brother had reacted as
defensively as she’d thought they would but, except for Callie, her friends had
not. Probably because she and Simon were already married. Considering that,
there wasn’t much anyone could do to warn her away.

Still, she’d anticipated a bit more…concern.

At breakfast, her old school chums had looked as if they
couldn’t believe her situation had changed so drastically, but she’d talked
about the people on her client roster enough in the past that they associated
her with a lot of big names. They were more surprised to have Simon O’Neal
sitting at coffee with
them.
She’d never brought
anyone home before, let alone an actor of his stature, and they were
understandably flustered.

But, interestingly enough, they didn’t seem to blame her for
marrying him. The guys took it for granted that Simon would be able to have
anyone he wanted, even her, regardless of what he’d done. And her girlfriends
harbored no illusions that they would’ve refused him had he shown interest in
any of them. So there’d been no frowns, no head shaking, no “what the hell were
you thinking?” when they got together this morning. Everyone had been too busy
trying to acclimate to having Simon around. Gail had almost laughed out loud as
all but Callie succumbed easily to his potent charm.

That grin of his was like a slow-acting poison, she decided. It
wasn’t lethal but it could certainly incapacitate a woman. It entered at the
eyes and jammed up certain frequencies of the brain, making the victim
susceptible to almost any suggestion Simon made. That had to be the reason she’d
been stupid enough to flash him this morning, even though she didn’t want to be
compared to his many other women, didn’t want to become his temporary antidote
to grief, didn’t want to be just another meaningless lay. She already knew her
self-esteem couldn’t take it.

He’d win Callie over eventually, too. Callie was only holding
out because she’d cautioned Gail not to get involved with him, and had been
ignored. Callie couldn’t swoon at his feet the second he walked into town or
she’d look ridiculous.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?” Simon called up.

Apparently he was off the phone with Ian, who’d been expounding
on the difficulties of getting Simon out of his next movie. She could hear the
TV but Simon’s conversation seemed to have ended several minutes ago, probably
around the time she’d finished reading all the blogs and articles posted about
them on the web.

“Just handling a few details,” she called back.

“How are we looking? Am I coming off as innocent?
Reformed?”

“America hasn’t gotten that far yet. Everyone’s in shock.”

“I still have the ability to shock people?”

She couldn’t help laughing, despite the fact that she was
wounded by so many of the comments she’d read. Being realistic about her own
limitations was one thing. Reading so many snarky reasons he should’ve chosen
someone better was another.

“They’re calling me Plain Jane,” she said.

“They don’t know you,” he responded.

Nice try.
“That comment doesn’t
refer to my personality.”

When she heard his tread on the stairs, she was about to turn
off her computer. It’d been hard enough to read these remarks when she was
alone. But he’d only demand she turn it on and show him some of the press. He
had a right to be interested.

“Who’s been writing about us?” he asked as he entered the
room.

“‘Perez Hilton,’ ‘Hot Hollywood Gossip,’ all the usual celeb
sites.”

“‘Hollywood Hunk Marries Plain Jane,’” he read over her
shoulder. “The
hunk
part is pretty accurate.”

She knew he was trying to soften the blow by making it into a
joke, but that didn’t help. She said nothing, just clicked on the other sites
she’d seen so he could continue to skim through the headings.

“‘Box Office Hit Simon O’Neal Ties the Knot…What’s Simon O
Thinking?… Simon O’Neal’s Latest Debacle… The Real Cinderella… Big Hit PR Scores
and So Does Its Owner, but for How Long?’”

“Looks like they’re buying it,” he said.

“Of course they’re buying it. I may be plain but I’m good at
what I do.” She could at least take pride in that.

“Come on.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and kneaded the
tense muscles there. “I’ll bet you anything that was written by a woman.”

“John McWhorter would be an odd name for a woman.”

“So a gay guy. A jealous gay guy. It’s possible. I’ve gotten
love letters from guys before.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She really felt that way. She’d known what
she’d be up against coming in to this. Known that everything would be
criticized, especially her.

And yet…it wasn’t pleasant to know that the world found her
lacking as Simon’s wife. This morning, when she’d flashed Simon, the way he’d
looked at her had made her feel drop-dead gorgeous. No other man had ever made
her feel so intoxicated with desire.

But Simon was out to get laid, and she’d made herself his only
quarry. He was probably using all his acting skill in the hopes of achieving
sexual gratification. Considering how beautiful Bella was, he couldn’t have been
as impressed as he seemed.

“That’s what you’ve been doing up here this whole time?” he
asked. “Reading all this negative crap about yourself?”

“I have to know what’s being said or I won’t know what we need
to do to enhance or combat it.”

He didn’t seem pleased. “Why do people have to have an opinion
on everything I do? Can’t they just enjoy my movies and leave it at that? Close
up and let’s go.”

“I haven’t been crying over it, if that’s what you think.” She
stopped him when he tried to shut down her browser. “I’ve been answering
email.”

That was true. She’d had to check on Big Hit, see what was
going on with the new pitches and assure herself that Josh and Serge were
covering for her in her absence. Josh had written, telling her not to read any
of the blogs, that he’d keep track of their buzz, which should’ve warned her,
but she’d had to look.

“Any word from
People?
” Simon
asked.

“We have a two-million-dollar offer.”

“Hold out for three.”

“That’s what I told Josh.”

He kept rubbing her shoulders, but she didn’t like that he was
doing it because he felt sorry for her. “What about Kathy Carmichael? Have you
reached her?”

“Not yet. I left her a message.”

“What’s happening at your office?”

“We’re being deluged with calls. A lot are from media
interested in getting whatever scoop they can on us, but there are others who
are potential clients. Josh thinks we should hire two more publicists.”

“Do you agree?”

She was surprised he’d ask. What did he care about her PR
business? “We have to be able to grow quickly enough to accommodate our sudden
popularity. And I don’t want the quality to suffer. That would ruin my brand.
So, yeah, I told him to do it. Maybe it’s the news of our marriage that’s
bringing business to Big Hit, but only hard work will keep that business,
especially after you and I split up.”

“Are you okay with missing all the fun?”

Gail hated feeling so removed from what she’d created. She was
too used to standing at the helm. But she had enough challenges right here, she
reminded herself. One of those challenges was not moaning at the pleasure his
fingers were giving her with his massage. Another was making sure her soft spot
for him didn’t get any larger. “I’m on assignment.”

“And you’ll see it through.”

“Of course.”

The rubbing stopped for a moment as he saluted her. “That’s
your brand, too.”

“That’s my personality.”

He stared at her for several seconds.

“What?” she asked, growing self-conscious.

“You’re right. It is your personality. You’re responsible,
dependable.”

Although that sounded like it was meant as a compliment, being
responsible and dependable wasn’t flattering enough to counteract the negative
comments she’d just read. It wasn’t like being told she was gorgeous or sexy or
charismatic, like he was. But she figured the world could use a few more
dependable people. Lord knew she dealt with enough who weren’t. “Be careful. I
might get a big head—like yours,” she said with a laugh.

He started to rub again. “I
like
responsible and dependable.”

She watched him in the mirror of her dresser. “Sure you do.
Being responsible and dependable is almost as good as being conscientious and
trustworthy.”

“You’re not flattered.”

“No.”

His hands stilled. “Okay. Would you believe me if I said you
have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen?”

He was getting a lot closer to the things a woman really wanted
to hear—even someone as practical, responsible and conscientious as her. But he
couldn’t be serious. She was barely a C cup. “No.”

“Now you know why I didn’t bother.”

She told herself to let it go at that, but couldn’t. “Is it
true?” she asked warily.

A sexy smile lifted one corner of his mouth as he bent to
whisper in her ear, “I’d be happy to convince you of my sincerity if you’ll give
me the chance,” he said and his hands came around to cup her breasts through her
clothes.

The heat of his palms made her nipples tighten. She told
herself to get up and step away, but she could only stare at the sight of his
dark fingers against her turquoise sweater. “Something must be wrong with
me....”

His thumbs moved back and forth, and darts of pleasure raced
through her. “No, there’s not,” he said, his lips against her neck.

She could hardly breathe. She wanted to let those well-sculpted
hands delve beneath her top and really touch her. But she was determined to be
smart about Simon. “I mean, there must be something wrong with
you
if you think I’m going to fall for that,” she
said, and knocked his hands away.

She’d thought he’d straighten and laugh it off as if touching
her hadn’t meant anything to him, anyway. As if it had been some sort of test to
see what she’d do. But he didn’t. When their eyes met in the mirror, she could
plainly read his disappointment.

God, no wonder he could get any female on the planet, she told
herself. It wasn’t just his celebrity and appearance. There was an emotional
honesty about him she found oddly courageous. Maybe he didn’t always feel the
way she might like him to feel, but he didn’t hide the truth.

“What would it hurt?” he murmured. “You’re my wife.”

He wanted the physical intimacy a regular wife would give him.
But he wouldn’t be happy if she wanted the emotional intimacy a regular wife
would expect in return. “I know you’re not used to going without, that it’s been
a few weeks—”

“Ah, shit. Don’t patronize me,” he said, and walked out.

Gail sat there for several more minutes. She was waiting for
the tingling in her breasts to subside. But every time she thought of Simon
touching her with that intense look in his eyes, the sensation came back.

Finally, she told herself to quit being an idiot and went
downstairs.

“Should we drive around and see if we can find any for-rent
signs?” she asked.

He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and didn’t even
bother to look up. “I’ve decided a for-sale sign would work just as well.”

“You want to buy a house?”

“I’m just saying I’ll take what I can get.”

Of course. He wouldn’t want to stay with her father and brother
any longer than necessary, and she couldn’t blame him.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Frustrated,” he said.