dozen bartenders. Warm laughter and music drifted through the happy crowd. A podium had been set up in front of a thousand chairs.
No sooner had he stopped his Mercedes than reporters and photographers surrounded them.
Taking her icy hand, Zach led her into the thick of the paparazzi where they were blinded by flashes.
His expression fierce, Zach gave the screaming horde a brief statement and posed beside her for more pictures. Then he’d had enough. She hardly knew how he managed it, but with a wave of his hand, his own people led them past the press and into a cordoned-off area where the music and laughter died. For a full minute, she clung to Zach’s arm, while he braved this fresh crowd gaping at them with stunned expressions.
Before those prying eyes, she began to tremble, feeling the same guilt she’d known fifteen years ago when these same people had thought the worst of her and Zach.
“Easy,” Zach whispered against her ear as he placed a protective hand over hers. Then he signaled his contractor and the band, and the music resumed.
We’ve never done anything wrong, she thought. We were wronged.
Slowly, people turned away and began talking once more. Still, even though Summer held her head high, she felt their lingering interest too acutely; just as she felt the steely tension emanating from Zach’s hard body beside her.
Never had she been more conscious of having a spellbound audience. During the politicians’ speeches and the ceremonial breaking of the ground with shovels, people couldn’t stop staring at her and Zach.
She couldn’t let their stares matter. All that mattered was Zach.
Maybe he was furious at her. Maybe he felt utterly betrayed. Never once did he leave her side, but perhaps he was putting on a show for the public. Would he make such an immense effort to show his support merely for publicity reasons?
He even danced with her beneath the softly lit lanterns and moonlight, holding her close, swirling her about while all she wanted was to run home and have him to herself so she could explain.
Instead, he forced her to brave the curious, fawning crowd, forced her to stay until all the important guests and photographers had departed. Only then did he whisper in her ear, in a tone that chilled her to the bone, “The crowd has lost their appetite to devour you. Time for us to go home, sweetheart, and start our weekend.”
Once they were out of the area that had been cordoned off from the paparazzi, the horde chased them to his Mercedes.
A microphone was shoved in her face. “Is Torr your man now?”
“No comment,” snapped Zach as someone snickered.
“When do you plan to make up your mind, Summer?”
Summer felt a jolt as Zach shoved a reporter aside so he could open her door.
A flash went off in her face, blinding her as Zach raced around the hood.
He jumped behind the wheel. “Get your head down. There are cameras everywhere.”
“I thought this was what your PR guys wanted.”
“Yes, they’re probably thrilled.”
A moment later, he sped out of the parking lot with the pack tailing them. Inside his Mercedes, which was lit by the headlights of the paparazzi, Zach was fiercely silent behind the wheel. So fierce, she thought his anger had built during the opening ceremonies. She didn’t dare say a word during that endless drive through that tunnel of trees to his home.
No sooner were they at his house than the photographers circled them, snapping photographs and yelling questions again.
Zach put his arms tightly around her, shielding her face, and escorted her inside.
“I can see that after this, I’m going to have to build a wall and hire guards to protect my privacy,” he muttered once they were in his living room and had drawn the drapes.
“What did you expect, when you asked me to come here as a publicity stunt?”
He double-bolted the front door and turned on her.
“Okay. I got what I deserved-in spades. The PR junket is over. Tomorrow I want you gone. They’ll soon forget.”
“No, you and I know they never forget.”
“Well, I intend to forget. Bob will fly you wherever you want to go. My only request is that you and your bags are on the front porch at 8:00 a.m. That’s when I told Bob to pick you up. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Why won’t you even let me explain?”
“I’m sure you could explain your way out of hell itself, but I’m not interested in hearing it.”
“What about Tuck?”
“I won’t press charges.”
“You just want me gone? Out of your life?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Zach, please-”
“Save it for your true loves-the stage and the press.” He turned on his heel and headed to his room. When his door slammed, she sagged against the wall as he banged about upstairs.
“But they’re not my true loves,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”
In fact, sometimes, such as now, being an actress felt like hell. She was a human being, a woman, whose privacy had been invaded and whose work had been exploited to serve as lurid entertainment for a mass of strangers on the internet. They’d hurt her, but it was Zach, and his refusal to hear her explanation, that ripped her heart out.
An hour later, Summer felt worse than ever as she closed her laptop after having viewed the pirated clips.
The integrity of the film had been compromised by allowing those provocative scenes to be viewed out of context. She felt used and abused as a woman, as well.
She did look wildly enthralled in the videos, but those hadn’t been her real emotions.
After the connection they’d shared last weekend, she’d worried about Zach’s reaction. Maybe she should have explained what was involved in filming sex on-screen for a major motion picture before she’d left for L.A. She should have made it clear that it was work, hard work… That it was far from a sensual experience. But Zach had been so cold and forbidding.
Well, she had to talk to him now; had to do whatever was necessary to make him listen… To make him understand that they had a bond worth fighting for. She wasn’t about to leave him again without doing so. That’s what she’d done fifteen years ago.
Her heart was beating too fast as she pulled on her robe and headed up the stairs. In her anxious state, it seemed that every stair creaked so that he had plenty of warning to throw the bolt against her.
Much to her surprise, when she twisted the knob and leaned against the door, it opened.
She saw the bottle of whiskey on the table beside the bed. A crystal glass glimmered in his clenched hand as he stood by the window.
“Zach, I’m not going until we talk…”
He whirled. “What do you want now?”
“You. Only you.”
“Get out, damn you.”
“You’ll have to throw me out, because I’m not leaving on my own. Not until you let me explain.”
“There’s no need.”
“You’re being unfair…like Thurman and the people of Bonne Terre were to you fifteen years ago.”
“And you!” he said. “You were the star of that public farce, too!”
His words felt like blows.
“I was sixteen. Thurman had been running me so long, I didn’t know what to do.”
“Except stand by him and sell me out.”
“I-I never intended to hurt you. The whole thing just got out of control. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you again.”
