“Right. Sometimes I can stick a potato or two in the oven and sprinkle them with olive oil and salt. I have a cook in Houston, but I don’t like eating at home alone. So, mostly I eat out.”
“Me, too. Or I do take-out. Because I don’t have time to cook.”
“I imagined you in ritzy New York restaurants, dining on meals cooked by the world’s best chefs, eating with famous movie stars.”
When his expression darkened, she suspected he was thinking of Hugh.
“Not all that often. Fancy meals take time to eat…as well as to cook and serve,” she said, avoiding the topic of Hugh. “And fans pester you for autographs. Besides, there’s nothing quite like a homemade meal, is there?”
“You used to want to be an actress so badly. What’s it like now that you’ve succeeded?”
“It’s nice, but I work almost all the time. Even when I have a job, I’m always auditioning for the next part. When I sign on with a show that isn’t in New York, I travel and live out of a suitcase. One minute it’s a crazy life, full of parties and friends, then it gets pretty lonely. You can’t hold on to anything because it’s all so ephemeral. The friends I make within a cast feel closer than family for a while. Then they vanish after each show closes,” she admitted.
“But when you sign with a new show or film you have a new set of friends.”
“Yes, but as I get older, I see that, despite the bright lights, a life without stability isn’t nearly so glamorous as people think.”
“It’s what you wanted.”
She sighed. “Be careful what you wish for. I guess I took my real life for granted. Lately, I’ve realized how much I miss family…and roots.”
“What does that mean?”
“My job is so all-consuming that I…I haven’t been good at relationships. I’m Southern, like Gram. She sees my single state as a failure, and lets me know it every chance she gets. Her dream for me was marriage to a handsome husband. I was supposed to have two children, a boy and a girl, and live happily ever after in a cute house surrounded by a white picket fence.”
He smiled. “But you, being a modern woman, aren’t into such an outdated, traditional formula for happiness. Strange, that it can still exert such a hold over a female as wise as your grandmother.”
“You’re right, of course. I just wish I could make her understand that I have everything I set my heart on. I’m grateful for what I have, for what I’ve achieved. So many people would give anything to be me.”
She was saying the same truths she’d lived by for years, but, for some reason, the words felt hollow tonight.
Zach didn’t say anything.
She’d never imagined having such an ordinary, simple, companionable evening with him, and she found herself enjoying it more than she’d enjoyed anything in a very long time. When they’d been kids, they’d been friends before they’d been lovers. They hadn’t fallen in love until after he’d graduated and she’d been entering her senior year.
Now, as an adult, she spent so much time working on her image and her brand, so much time learning various roles, and never very much time being herself. What would it be like to have a lifetime of such evenings with a man like him? To take them for granted?
She sighed. That wasn’t who she was now. She had her career, a bright future-and it was on the stage and screen.
“What about you?” she whispered. “You’re successful. Are you happy?”
“Like you, I’m not unhappy,” he muttered thickly. “I, too, have everything I always thought I wanted…except maybe for…” He shot her a look that was so intense it burned away her breath.
“For what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he growled. “Not even billionaires can have it all. Not that we don’t pretend that we can, with our fancy cars and homes and yachts.” Frowning, he sprang to his feet and then glanced at his watch. “But you’re injured, and it’s late. You must be tired. Besides, Sands prescribed that painkiller. I’m afraid I’ve been very selfish to keep you up so long.”
She didn’t want him to go. “No. I’m barely injured, and you’ve waited on me hand and foot… And I just sat there and let you.”
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer.”
“But I really do want to know…about you,” she whispered.
“Let’s save that boring tale for later,” he said, cutting her off. “Who knows-maybe you’ll get lucky and never have to hear it.” He picked up her crutches. “Why don’t I help you to your room?”
Feeling stunned and a little hurt by how abruptly he’d ended their pleasant evening, she got to her feet. As she stood, her uncertain eyes met his. But he wouldn’t hold her gaze.
Suddenly, she again felt awkward at the thought of their sharing the house for another night. Stiffening, he handed her the crutches and then backed away.
“I hate these things,” she said as she placed the crutches under her arms.
“It’s a minor sprain. The doctor said you might even be off them as soon as Tuesday.”
“I hope so. Thanks again for tonight. When you convinced me to come here for the weekend, I never thought…we would have this kind of evening or that I could enjoy simply being with you so much.”
“Neither the hell did I,” he admitted in a stilted tone, still not looking at her. “Believe me-I had a very different kind of weekend in mind.”
“Well, you’ve been very nice.”
“Good night, then,” he muttered, his voice sounding so furious she realized he’d had more than enough of her company.
He’d blackmailed her because he’d wanted revenge. He’d wanted sex. Had this evening, with its simple pleasures, bored him?
She felt hurt and rejected, just as she had last night.
Six
Zach knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, so instead of undressing for bed, he poured himself a glass of scotch. Then he strode out onto the balcony where the humid air smelled of honeysuckle, jasmine and pine.
Damn those bewitching blue eyes of hers and her pretty, sweet smile that made him want her so badly he hurt.
Why hadn’t he taken Summer as he’d intended? Why hadn’t he punished her? Usually he came on strong with women. What the hell was wrong with him this weekend?
Next week she would be with Hugh, making love to him-at least on film. And probably offscreen, too. Not that her relationship with Jones should be any concern of Zach’s. Still, he burned every time he thought about her with that egotistical phony.
Their first night here she’d seemed so vulnerable and uneasy. Then today, when she’d fallen, she had taken his hand and begged him to stay with her. Her fingers and wrist had felt so slim and fragile in his much larger hand. What kind of man forced his presence on a woman who seemed so defenseless and in need of his protection?
Still, Zach wasn’t so noble that he could forget the glimpses he’d seen of her breasts and her creamy thighs. He wanted to kiss those breasts, tongue all the warm, succulent places between her thighs. He knew what she’d done in the past, how close she’d come to nearly destroying him-but for reasons he didn’t understand, he continued to balk at using her sexually.
No longer did he want to expose their relationship to the press for public consumption.
This weekend had backfired. Damn it.
The sensitive male was a new role for him.
She’d beaten him.
To save his own ass, tomorrow he’d tell her their deal was off and send her packing.
Then he’d do the smart thing: return to Houston and forget her.
