“It was worth a try.” He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. Even though he had no belief in the statue’s powers, he didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t been able to help them find it. As the current lord of the manor, he somehow felt as if he should have come up with a way to get it done.
After Giulia left, he headed for the pool to swim some laps. The water was chilly, but not cold enough to numb him, something he would have welcomed. When he got tired, he flipped to his back, and that was when he saw Isabel sitting by the umbrella.
She’d crossed her ankles and tucked them off to the side. Her straw hat shaded her face, and the script lay in her lap. He dove under, then resurfaced as far away from her as he could get in a cowardly desire to postpone the inevitable. Finally he pushed himself up onto the deck and grabbed his towel.
She watched him come toward her. Normally her battle to keep her eyes from drifting to his crotch would have amused him, but today he didn’t feel like laughing.
“It’s a great script,” she said.
Apparently she’d decided to lull him before she went in for the kill. He played the world-weary movie star, sprawling down next to her, tilting his head back, and shutting his eyes against the sun. “Yeah.”
“It’s not too difficult to figure out why you didn’t want me to see it.”
A surly attitude was the quickest way to bring this to its ugly conclusion. “I’m not looking for any lectures.”
“I won’t give you any. This isn’t a film I’d stand in line to watch, but I know I’ll be the exception. The critics are going to love it, and so will audiences.”
He popped open one eye. Instead of coming at him directly, she was setting him up for a sneak attack.
“I can see why you’re excited about it,” she went on. “This part is going to push you to your limits. You’re at the place in your career right now where you need that.”
He couldn’t take any more, and he shot out of his chair. “He’s a child molester!”
She blinked her eyes. “I know that’s not what you signed on for, but it’ll be an amazing performance challenge.” She had the balls to smile at him. “You’re sublimely talented, Ren, and you’ve been waiting your whole career for something like this.”
He shoved a chair out of his way and headed across the pool deck. At that moment he almost hated her. She was so relentlessly reasonable, so unmercifully fair, and now he was going to have to spell out the details. “It seems to have escaped your attention that I was spending all that time with Tracy’s girls because I’ve been using them for research.”
“Yes, I figured that out.”
He whirled on her. “Steffie and Brittany! Those great little girls. Don’t you understand? I’ve been trying to get inside Street’s skin and see them through his eyes.”
The brim of her hat shaded her face, so he thought he mistook her expression. Then she shifted her head, and he saw he hadn’t been mistaken at all. Her eyes were filled with sympathy. “I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you.”
Right then he lost it. It wasn’t enough for her to rip his skin off. She had to gnaw at his bones, too. “Goddamn it!” He hated her goodness, her compassion. He hated everything that set her apart from him. He had to get away, except his feet wouldn’t move, and the next thing he knew, she had her arms wrapped around his waist.
“Poor Ren.” She lay her cheek to his chest. “For all your sarcasm, you adore those little girls. Getting ready for this part must be awful.”
He wanted to push her away, but she was balm to his wounds, and he drew her close instead. “They’re so damn trusting.”
“And you’re completely trustworthy.”
“I’ve been using them.”
“You’re scrupulous about your work. Of course you need to understand children to play the part. You haven’t been a threat to those girls, not for a second.”
“God, I know that, but…” She wasn’t going to walk away. In the back of his mind he knew that meant he’d have to start all over again. But not today, not right now.
It defied logic, but he wanted to talk to her about it. He took a few steps back, putting just enough distance between them so he didn’t have to worry about corrupting her. “The script… It’s much better than Jenks’s original concept. There are times the audience will actually be rooting for Street, even though he’s a monster.”
“That’s what makes it brilliant and horrifying.”
“It shows how seductive evil can be. Everybody who sees the film is going to have to look inside themselves. Jenks is brilliant. I know that. I just…” His mouth seemed to dry up.
“I understand.”
“I’m turning into a goddamn wimp.”
“Don’t swear. And you’ve always been a wimp. But you’re such a wonderful actor nobody’s figured that out.”
Isabel had hoped to make him smile, but he was too caught up in his inner turmoil for smiles. This explained why he’d been so prickly lately. As much as he wanted to play the part, he was also repulsed by it.
“It’s Street’s film,” he said. “Nathan, the hero, is basically white wallpaper.”
“You’ve never had any problem detaching from your characters in the past, and you won’t have a problem detaching from this one.”
She’d intended her words to comfort him, but he looked even more troubled.
“I don’t understand you,” he said. “You should hate this. Aren’t you the big proponent of only sending good fairy dust out into the world?”
“That’s the way I want to live my own life. But nothing’s simple when it comes to art, is it? Artists have to interpret the world as they see it, and their vision can’t always be beautiful.”
“Do you think this film is art?”
“Yes. And so do you, or you wouldn’t be putting yourself through this.”
“It’s just… I wish… Hell, I wish my agent had forced them to put my name over the title.”
His bluster didn’t fool her, and her heart ached for him. The fact that he was so obviously conflicted might mean he’d finally gotten tired of skulking down dark alleys. Maybe he’d be ready to play someone heroic when this was over. It was time he moved past his narrow view of himself, both as an actor and as a human being.
Now, however, his gaze held nothing but cynicism. “So you’re giving me absolution for the sin I’m about to commit.”
“Making this film isn’t a sin. And I’m hardly in a position to offer absolution.”
“You’re the best I’ve got.”
“Oh, Ren.” She walked over to him and reached up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “When are you going to start seeing yourself for who you are instead of who you think you are?”
“Man, are you ever a pushover.”
She reminded herself she was his lover, not his therapist, and it wasn’t her job to fix him, especially when she hadn’t made a dent in healing herself. She began to take a step backward, but he snagged her arm, his grip so tight it almost hurt. “Let’s go.”
She saw something that looked almost like desperation on his face. He pulled her to the farmhouse, to the bedroom. She knew that something was wrong, but she caught his fever anyway and tore at her clothes as urgently as he tore at his.
As they fell onto the mattress, she drew him upon her. She wanted him to drive away the premonition that it was all coming to an end faster than either of them could stop it. He gripped her behind the knees and spread her legs. Her orgasm was shattering but not joyous-a shadow racing across the sun.
Ren wrapped a towel around his waist and headed down to the kitchen. He’d expected a lot of reactions out of her after she’d read the script, but acceptance-not to mention actual encouragement-hadn’t been on the list. Just once he’d like her to behave the way he expected, but the fact that she never did was one more reason he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
He’d begun to feel something like… the word “panic” crept into his head, but he pushed it away. He didn’t
Upstairs he heard water running as she began to fill the tub. He hoped she scrubbed hard at the smudge marks
