Hollywood Baby Affair Read online

  Still, need hummed within her, and her skin shivered with awareness. What was it with this man? He had a talent for getting under her defenses, and together they were combustible.

  “Have I been doing it right?” His eyes laughed at her.

  “What?”

  “The kissing.”

  If the response he stirred in her was any indication, then...yeah. She tingled right now—wanting him closer against her better judgment. “All wrong.”

  “Then we need to practice.” His lips curved in a sultry smile. “For the photographers and their cameras.”

  She’d walked into that one. “There isn’t one here right now.”

  “Then we’ll need to make this real instead of make-believe,” he muttered as he focused on her mouth. “You have the fullest, most kissable lips.”

  Chiara inhaled a quick little breath. It was heady being the focus of Rick’s attention. He brought the same intensity to kissing as he did to his stunts.

  But instead of immediately touching his mouth to hers this time, he surprised her by smoothing a hand down her side.

  She shivered, and her nipples puckered, pushing against her sports bra. She itched to explore him the way he was doing to her. She raised her hand to push him away, but instead it settled on his chest, where she felt the strong, steady beat of his heart.

  “That’s right,” he encouraged. “Touch me. Make me feel.”

  She parted her lips, and this time he did settle his mouth on hers. She felt a little zing, and was surrounded by his unique male scent.

  His chest pressed down on the pillow of her breasts, but he didn’t give her all his weight, which was still braced on his arms.

  Wrapped in his intoxicating closeness, she felt him everywhere, even on the parts of her body that weren’t touching his.

  His hand cupped her between her thighs, where her tight spandex shorts were the only barrier between her heat and his. He stroked her with his thumb, again and again, until she tore her mouth from his and gasped with need.

  She grasped his wrist, but it was too late. Her body splintered, spasming with completion and yet unfulfilled desire.

  When she looked up, she was caught by his glittering gaze. She was vulnerable and exposed, more so even than when they’d been hanging from a helicopter and his embrace had been a haven.

  She could tell he wanted her, but he was holding himself in check, his breathing heavy.

  Sanity slowly returned. This was so wrong.

  “Let me up,” she said huskily.

  He straightened, and then tugged on her hand to help her up.

  “I don’t want this,” she said, standing and knowing the last thing she needed was to feel this way—especially when wrong felt...right.

  “Sometimes what we think we should want is beside the point.”

  She wanted to argue, but for once, she didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m going to take a cold shower,” he said with a rueful smile, and then turned.

  She half expected a teasing addition—Want to join me?

  But he said nothing further, and somehow she found his seriousness more troubling than his playfulness.

  * * *

  Bed & Breakfast in Brentwood. Chiara Feran and Her Stuntman Seen Moving in Together.

  Chiara stalked back to her trailer along a dirt path, her scene complete. Filming had moved for today from the Novatus Studio lot to nearby Griffith Park.

  The blog Celebrity Dish had scooped WE Magazine and run a relationship story about her and Rick. Melody should still be happy about her exclusive interview, but it hadn’t taken long for the gossip to start making the rounds...

  Chiara attributed her bad mood to lack of coffee...and a certain stuntman.

  Yesterday afternoon, they’d had a near tryst on her weight bench. There was no telling what he was capable of if he stayed in her house much longer.

  She’d shown up at work at six in the morning intent on avoiding Rick, and had sat in the makeup chair. It was now ten, and there was still no sign of him. After their encounter in the exercise room, she’d heard him shower and leave her house. He still hadn’t returned when she’d gone to bed hours later.

  Perhaps he’d met and hooked up with a woman. Not that it was her business. Even if it meant he’d gone straight from her arms to those of another... Damn it.

  At least Pegasus Pride would wrap soon. They were in the last days of filming. The scenes that she’d been in with Rick acting as a body double for her costar Adrian had been thankfully few.

  Head down, she turned a corner...and collided with a solid male chest.

  The air rushed out of her, and then she gasped.

  But before she could wonder whether her favorite fan had made a surprise appearance again, strong arms steadied her, and she looked up into Rick’s green eyes.

  “You.”

  “For two people who are roommates, we hardly ever run into each other,” he said in an ironic tone.

  Chiara blinked. His hands were still cupping her upper arms, the wall of his chest a mere hair’s breadth away. The heat emanated from him like a palpable thing.

  “It’s a big house and an even larger movie location.” She sounded breathless and chalked it up to having the air nearly knocked out of her.

  He was irritating but also impossible to ignore—and she’d been throwing her best acting skills at the problem.

  “Miss me?” he teased drily. “I thought we were supposed to be joined at the hip these days.”

  How could she answer that one? After he’d left last night, she’d succumbed to a restless night’s sleep. He’d left her satisfied and bereft at the same time. Sure, she’d gotten release, but they’d missed out on the ultimate joining, and hours later, her body had craved it. At least he wasn’t openly chastising her for her artful dodge that morning.

  He stepped closer and eased her chin up, his gaze focused on her lips. “I missed you.”

  “The mouth that can’t stop telling you off?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “We’d be good in bed. There’s too much combustible energy between us. Admit it.”

  “Can’t you tell good acting when you see it?”

  “That was no act. If that wasn’t an orgasm last night, I’ll stand naked under the Hollywood sign over there.” With a nod of his head, he indicated the iconic landmark in the distance.

  “We are acting. This is fake. We’re on a movie set!”

  “Yup,” he drawled and glanced around, “and I don’t see any cameras rolling right now. Just because we’re playing to the media doesn’t mean we can’t have fun along the way.”

  She didn’t do fun. She left that to her dice-rolling father, who’d run away from responsibility—a wife, a child, a home...

  “Oh, I like it!”

  Chiara turned and spotted Odele.

  “Did I interrupt something? Or let me rephrase that one—I hope I was interrupting something!”

  “He needs to go,” Chiara retorted.

  Odele looked from her to Rick and back. “What went wrong? It’s only been—” she checked her watch “—two days.”

  “A lover’s spat,” Rick joked. “We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  Odele’s eyes gleamed behind her red glasses. “You can’t quit now. The press is reporting Chiara’s father was tossed out of a Vegas casino.”

  Rick quirked a brow at Chiara.

  “On top of it,” Odele went on, “there’s a big fundraiser tomorrow night, and I managed to secure a ticket for Chiara’s date.”

  “And let’s not forget WE just got the exclusive interview that we are an item,” Rick continued drolly.

  Chiara faced her nemesis. “You are impossible.”

  “Just acting the p
art.”

  “You’re giving an Oscar-worthy performance in a B movie.”

  “I believe in doing my best,” Rick intoned solemnly. “My mother raised me right.”

  She wanted to claim his best wasn’t good enough, but the truth was he’d been...impressive so far. “This isn’t working.”

  “You don’t want me?” He adopted a wounded expression, but his eyes laughed at her.

  Grr. “I’m stuck with you!”

  “Then why don’t you make the most of it?” His voice was smooth as massage lotion. “Who knows? We might even have fun together.”

  The last thing she needed was his hands on her again. “Fun is not the word that comes to mind. This is crazy. Are we nuts?”

  “You know the answer to that question. I hang from helicopters for a living—”

  “Clearly the altitude has addled your mind.”

  “—and you are an actress and celebrity.”

  “Fame is a dirty word in your book?”

  Rick shrugged. “I’m camera-shy. Call it middle-child syndrome. I leave the high-profile celebrity stuff to my older and younger brothers.”

  She frowned. “You’re an agoraphobic stuntman?”

  He bit back a laugh. “Not quite, but putting on the glitz isn’t my thing.”

  “Odele just mentioned we have a big fund-raiser to attend tomorrow night,” she countered. “And since you signed up for the boyfriend gig, you’ll need to put on a tux.”

  “Trust me, you’ll like me better naked.”

  Chiara felt her cheeks heat, and on top of that, her manager was tracking everything like a talent agent on the scent of a movie deal.

  She narrowed her eyes at Rick. “Oh? Is that the usual attire for reclusive stuntmen?”

  He gave a lazy smile. “If we live together much longer, you’ll find out.”

  She hated his casual self-assurance. And what was worse, he was probably right...

  Chiara gave her manager a what-have-you-gotten-me-into look, but Odele returned it with a beatific one of her own.

  “I came to tell you that you’re needed. Dan wants to reshoot a scene,” Odele said.

  Chiara wasn’t normally enthusiastic about retakes, but right now she thought of it as a lucky break...

  * * *

  Hours later, during some downtime in his schedule, Rick sat in a chair outside the gym trailer, his legs propped on a nearby bench. He consulted his cell phone to make sure he was caught up on work.

  Often his emails were mundane matters sent by a business partner, but today, lucky him, he had something more salacious to chew over. All courtesy of Celebrity Dish—and a specific actress who’d occupied way more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.

  After his encounter with Chiara in her exercise room yesterday afternoon, he’d done the only thing that he could do in the face of frustration and lack of consummation: he’d taken a cold shower and then sat alone at a nearby sports bar to have dinner.

  Still, now that the story had progressed in the media to him and Chiara shacking up, Rick knew he’d better tackle his family. In the next moment, his cell phone buzzed, and Rick noted it was Jordan before answering the call.

  “Wow, you move fast,” his brother said without preamble. “One day you’re denying there’s anything going on, the next you’re moving in together.”

  “Hilarious.”

  “Mom asked. Has she rung you yet?”

  “Nope.” Camilla Serenghetti was probably vacillating between worry and being ecstatic that her middle son might have gotten into a serious relationship—preferably one heading toward marriage and children.

  “She’s concerned some temptress has worked her wiles on you, and not just on the big screen, either. I told her that you’re not innocent and naive enough to resist a beautiful woman.”

  “Finger-pointing never got you anywhere, Jordan.”

  “Except for some scratches and bruises from you and Cole in retribution. But don’t worry, I bounced back.”

  “Clearly,” Rick responded drily.

  “Mom is talking about coming to the West Coast to tape an episode of her cooking show. You know, do something different and expand the audience, and if I’m not mistaken—” his brother’s voice dripped dry humor “—she wants to check up on you.”

  No, no and no. The last thing he needed was for his mother to add a sideshow to the ongoing drama with Chiara—though Camilla Serenghetti would no doubt easily become best buds with Odele. Two peas in a pod. Or as the Italians liked to say, due gocce d’acqua—like two drops of water. In a pot of boiling pasta water. Still, the thought gave him an idea...

  “Mom can’t come here.”

  “She’s worried about the show. The station is under new management and she wants to make a good impression.”

  “Fine. I’ll go to her.”

  The idea was brilliant. If he delivered Chiara Feran to his mother’s show, he’d drive up ratings for a program that was only in local syndication. And it would add steam in the press to his and Chiara’s supposed relationship. All while getting Chiara out of her house in LA and away from her crazy fan.

  It was fantastic...clever...an idea worthy of Odele.

  Rick suppressed a smile. Chiara’s manager would love it.

  “You’re serious?” his brother asked.

  “Yup.” If he was going to engage in this charade, he was going to be all in.

  With that in mind, he ended his call with Jordan and went looking for his favorite actress.

  Things had slowed down on set because Adrian Collins didn’t like some of his lines and had holed up in his trailer with a red pen. Rick would have gotten involved and gone to read the riot act to the male lead, but he didn’t like to blow his cover. Not even Dan knew how much he had invested in this movie.

  Besides, Adrian’s antics were mild in comparison to other off-camera drama he’d witnessed on movie sets—stars kicking each other, hurling curses and insults, and throwing tantrums worthy of a two-year-old while breaking props. Yet another reason he hadn’t gotten involved with mercurial actresses...until now.

  As luck would have it, he soon caught up with Chiara some distance from the parked movie trailers. She was walking back alone, picking her way along a dusty path, apparently having finished filming another scene.

  Maybe it was unfulfilled sexual desire, maybe it was the picture she presented, but his senses got overloaded seeing her again. Since this morning, she’d changed into business attire because her scenes called for her to have escaped from a federal office building. She was wearing a pencil skirt paired with sky-high black pumps and a white shirt open to show a bit a cleavage. The effect was sexy in an understated way.

  He liked the way the light caught in her dark halo of hair—which was just the right length for him to run his fingers through in the throes of passion. His body tightened.

  He wasn’t one to be overcome by lust—particularly where actresses were concerned—but Chiara was just the package to press his buttons. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said she was his type. His brothers would say he was attracted to women who were a study in contrasts: dark hair against a palate of smooth skin; humor and passion; light and hidden depths... On top of it all, Chiara was blessed with a great figure, which was emphasized at the moment by a come-hither outfit made for the big screen...and male fantasies.

  He, on the other hand, was in his usual stunt clothes for this movie: a ripped tee, makeup meant to resemble dirt smeared on his abs, an ammo belt across his chest and another one slug low on his hips with an unloaded gun. He felt...uncivilized.

  And the setting was appropriate. They were at the bottom of a canyon, surrounded by mountain roads and not far from actual caves. Only the presence of the Hollywood sign spoiled the effect of unspoiled nature.

>   Still, he tried for some semblance of polite conversation when they came abreast of each other. Thanks to Jordan, he had a brilliant idea—one that should deal with multiple problems at once. “I have a favor to ask.”

  She looked at him warily. “Which is?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’d like you to appear on my mother’s cooking show.”

  Her jaw went slack. “What?”

  He shrugged. “If you appear on her show, it’ll feed the rumors that we’re involved. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Your mother has a cooking show?”

  He nodded. “It’s on local TV in Boston and a few other markets, and it films not far from my hometown of Welsdale in western Massachusetts. Flavors of Italy with Camilla Serenghetti.”

  Chiara’s lips twitched. “So you’re not the Serenghetti closest to fame? I’m shocked.”

  “Not by a long shot,” he returned sardonically. “Not only is Mom ahead of me, but my brothers and sister are, too.”

  Chiara looked curious. “Really?”

  He nodded. “You don’t watch hockey.”

  “Should I?”

  “My kid brother plays for the New England Razors, and my older brother used to.”

  She seemed as if she was trying to pull up a recollection.

  “Jordan and Cole Serenghetti,” he supplied.

  “And your sister is...?”

  “The youngest, but determined not to be left behind.” He cracked a grin. “She’s a big feminist.”

  “Naturally. With three older brothers, I imagine she had to be.”

  “She had a badass left kick in karate, but these days she’s rechanneled the anger into a fashion design business.”

  Chiara’s eyes widened. “Ooh, I like it already it.”