by Holly Jaymes
“What’s going on? All of a sudden, you look like you’re standing on the ledge,” he asked.
I shook my head and waved my hand to let him know that I was okay. “I was just realizing I’ve never actually filmed a love scene before.” And then I wondered about the wisdom of admitting this to Theo, as he might rethink me for the part. On the other hand, he knew I’d been out of the business for fifteen years so he had to know already.
I reduced my panic by reminding myself that while sex scenes were titillating and interesting, it was the chemistry that would make the movie work.
He gave me a wicked smile. “A film sex scene virgin. I’m looking forward to being your first.”
The Shoot
Theo
When I got to the elevator, I mentally kicked myself for the virgin comment. Jesus. I really was a douche. Then I got stuck on Madeline’s question about whether or not the audition was over. Did she really think I was there to continue my evaluation of her? My point had been to apologize and move forward.
It was a disappointment to learn that she thought I was still judging her. I enjoyed our visit. I liked how there was no guessing with her on what she was thinking. Or at least that was what I thought. If she believed I was still testing her, perhaps she wasn’t her true self. She’d be putting on her best behavior instead of being real. I enjoyed the Madeline I’d met, so it was a bummer to discover that maybe that wasn’t the real her.
Then again, she was blunt and didn’t seem like she had a wall up. So, who knew who I was getting to know tonight?
By the time I reached my apartment, I wasn’t sure what to think. I tried to put it out of my mind as I grabbed vegetables and rice to make a quick stir fry. Crackers, wine and cheese were nice, but I needed a meal.
Over the next few days, my life settled back into normal. I read scripts and books to see what I might want my production company to take on in the future. I checked in with my brother Oliver who admitted he was playing with fire by seeing a celebutante. As a plastic surgeon in Los Angeles, it was important that he stay out of the limelight. Famous plastic surgeons never lasted long because their clientele could be exposed. Oliver was older than me but unlike me, he hadn’t grown out of the need to sow his oats. I was sure he’d hit on Madeline if he met her. That thought didn’t sit well with me. Strange. Another strange thing was how I kept anticipating, maybe even hoping, that I’d see Madeline each time I got into the elevator.
On Monday, we started on Take It or Leave It. Madeline wasn’t on the schedule until later in the week. When I arrived on set, I hunted Corrine down before I went to my trailer.
“Please don’t tell me there’s a problem. Let me guess, Madeline quit,” she said when she saw me.
“You don’t think much of me, do you?” I replied as I took in the area that we were filming in. We were starting off with a heist scene set in Russia where I was stealing artwork stolen by the Nazis during World War II, that ended up in the Soviet Union at the end of the war. The premise of the film was that I was a billionaire who stole unreturned Nazi plunder to return to their rightful owners. Madeline was the Interpol agent sent to hunt me down.
“I think a hell of a lot of you, but I also know you,” Corrine said.
“No. She didn’t quit and I didn’t fire her. But I noted on the schedule that our first scene is the library scene and I was thinking maybe for her first day we do something else.”
Corrine arched a brow at me. “You’re not scared to kiss her, are you?”
“No, but considering the start we had, maybe it would be better to do something a little less handsy.”
She laughed. “God, Theo, what happened to you? How many women have you kissed…on film, that is?”
I burned with embarrassment that she thought I was being weird around a kissing scene. “A few.” A good number actually. And the truth was, it was strange to kiss a woman that I wasn’t really into. Weirder still to pretend to make love to one. Sure, I’d hooked up with a few who were sexually appealing, but even that was strange. Sometimes I wondered if we were just extensions of our characters. It was partly why I’d shied away from on-set hookups.
“She’s just another job, Theo. Lucky for you, she’s gorgeous and feisty, just your type.”
“She’s never done it before,” I blurted.
Corrine frowned. “Please don’t tell me you asked her about her sexual history. Jesus, you really do want to have this film fail.”
“Not her true history, her screen history. She was eleven or something when she left the business. There’s no kissing on screen, much less fake-fucking at eleven.”
She seemed to ponder that and then shook her head. “Based on what I saw on the test, it won’t be a problem. And I suspect she’d be pissed if she knew you were trying to soften the path for her. But, you’re in luck because we need to move the MOMA scene and we were thinking of doing the party scene there. We can do that first and then the library. I can let her know.”
I nodded. “Good. Great. Thanks.” I rushed off, feeling like a fool. I was nice to women. I had good manners. But I wasn’t the type of man to “soften the path” or worry about them. The moment Madeline strode up the hall in her kick-ass leather skirt, billowing red hair, and don’t-fuck-with-me attitude for the screen test, I was off my game.
I might have been off in my personal life, but I was on the ball professionally. Twelve hours later, I was heading home, and again felt a twinge of disappointment that Madeline wasn’t in the elevator. My finger hovered over the eight-button on the panel. I could stop by and tell her about the change of plans in filming. But Corrine said she’d tell her so it would seem odd if I showed up too. Plus, I wasn’t liking the feeling that I was behaving like a puppy.
On Madeline’s first day of shooting, she arrived hours before me. One of the benefits of being a man was that I didn’t need hours of hair and make-up. I showed up on set wearing the suit and my hair slicked back, ready for the party scene at the Langford mansion in England, where I’d be stealing a painting and returning it to the descendants of the family from whom it was taken in Paris in 1939.
I lingered on the set with the extras, waiting for Madeline to arrive.
“Remember, when you dance, keep your hands a respectable distance from her ass,” Corrine said as she approached me.
I smirked, but didn’t have time to reply when her attention was directed behind me.
“Madeline, you look like a billion bucks.”
I turned to see what a billion bucks looked like and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Holy fuck, she was gorgeous. The dark green dress was just sexy enough to be tantalizing. Her hazel eyes held a greenish-hue that I’d never seen before. Her hair was bunched up on her head in some fancy style that probably took forever, but the loose tendrils gave the appearance that she’d just been ravished against the wall. Maybe we could change the kissing scene to a sex one in the library, I thought.
“You’re gawking,” Corrine whispered next to me.
I cleared my throat and put my hands in my pants on the off chance that full feeling I had in my dick was noticeable.
“How is Nicolette expected to carry a gun in this dress?” Madeline asked when she reached us.
"She uses her brains and wits,” Corrine said, studying Madeline.
“It doesn’t seem very realistic.”
“Says the woman who spent her childhood talking to a puppet,” I quipped. The minute I said it, I felt like an asshole. Why did she bring out my worst impulses?
“Kids believe in puppets. Adults don’t think an Interpol Agent would work without her gun.”
“You’re following him, surveilling him. You don’t need a gun. Besides you’re not alone,” Corrine said.
“That’s right, my all-male team is around the place and they have guns.” Clearly Madeline didn’t like the image that was being depicted.
“Jesus, give her a gun,” I said. I was irked and I directed it at her, but in truth, it was on me. Sh
e was right. She should have a gun or she needed a team that included women. “And get some women on her team.” I walked away to take a moment. I needed to be suave. Confident. Arrogant. I wasn’t feeling any of those at the moment.
Twenty minutes later, we were ready to go. I entered the scene as indicated in the script. My goal was to blend in. I was a billionaire, so of course I’d be there, but I didn’t want people to remember that I was there. I was also taking in the floor plan and the security, in and outside of the home. Eventually, I’d make my way to the library where the artwork in question hung. I was scoping the joint to rob it.
People around me were laughing, talking, drinking. I picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. I tilted my head back to sip, and when I brought it straight again, I saw Nicolette across the room. Thank fuck I’d seen her before as I’d probably have blown the scene if this was my first view of her.
She scanned the room, and her eyes settled on me. Game on, they said. This wasn’t the first time Nicolette and I had played cat and mouse. It was a game I enjoyed, although I never planned to get caught by her. I nodded and lifted my glass to let her know I saw her.
“Cut,” Corrine called.
Then we did it again and then again, each time from a different view or angle. Then we moved to filming Nicolette walking to me, then me asking her to dance. We broke for lunch, deciding to do the dance scene after that.
I grabbed food from the caterer and then went to my trailer to deal with business items, and then later was back on the set. We met at the dance floor, spending the next thirty minutes having Corrine and the choreographer block the scene for us.
“Alright you two, heat up the screen,” Corrine said as she went back to the camera.
I held my hands up and Madeline, as Nicolette stepped into my arms. I’d forgotten how great she smelled. Or how well we fit. I took a breath to get my head back in the game.
“Long time no see, Nic,” I said into her ear as Jack Cole.
“I’m sure it’s too soon for you,” she replied.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I leaned back to look at her. “I like being chased.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How do you feel about being caught?”
I gave her my most wolfish smile. “Right now, it feels really nice.”
She didn’t take the bait. “Enjoy your freedom now, Cole. It won’t be long before champagne and international flights will be a thing of the past.”
“Will you arrange conjugal visits?” I asked, waggling my brows.
“Are you admitting that you’re going to break the law by stealing a priceless piece of art?”
I gave her an offended look. “Steal? Me? Never. I thought you were sending me to prison because I double-parked.”
“Cut! Fucking awesome.” Corrine said. “Reset and let’s do it from Nicolette’s point of view.”
“She said cut,” Madeline said.
Oh shit. I was still holding her. I released her like my hands were on fire.
“Next time, Madeline, can you have an expression that looks more like you’re toying with him instead of taunting him or being pissed at him? It should come off as a game between you two. A game neither plan to lose. In fact, both of you are certain you’ll win,” Corrine said.
“Got it.” Madeline sipped from a bottle of water one of the assistants handed her. “Would she play with his hair?”
My brows rose.
“It’s sort of the equivalent of grabbing a woman’s ass,” she explained to me.
“Scrape a long nail along the neck. It gives a subtle threat while being sensual,” Corrine said.
We reset and started again, redoing all the same moves and dialogue as it was reshot from a different direction.
“How do you feel about being caught?” Nicolette asked, running her nail below my ear and down my neck. My dick perked up. I’d have to find a male chastity belt to keep from showing a woody on set.
I refocused, giving her my wolfish smile. “Right now, it feels really nice.” The perverse part of me thought about letting her know how good by pulling her closer.
“Enjoy your freedom now, Cole. It won’t be long before champagne and international flights will be a thing of the past.” She tapped my chin with her finger.
“Will you arrange conjugal visits?”
“Are you admitting you’re here to steal a priceless piece of art?”
I gave her an offended look. “Steal? Me? Never.” I gave a little tug, jerking her closer, though careful to keep my dick away. Still, I liked the surprise in her eyes. “I never take things without permission.”
“Cut.”
Madeline’s eyes were amused as she looked up at me. Remembering where I was, I released her.
“Christ, I need a cold shower. I like that ad-lib, Theo. He’s being less immature asshole and more sexy, cocky billionaire,” Corrine said. “Let’s reset.”
This time, I took a moment to get a sip of water. I had been worried that Madeline wouldn’t be able to pull off the strong sexy Nicolette, but now I worried she was a siren luring me to my demise.
The Kissing Scene
Madeline
I’d been a nervous wreck when I left Nadine’s condo at four-thirty in the morning to be in hair and makeup by five on my first day of shooting. I’d settled down a bit as people fussed over me and Corrine arrived to talk me through the day. I reminded myself that I spent several years of my childhood on a set. I knew what I was doing. Still, knowing that Theo hadn’t been sold on me for the role of Nicolette put pressure on me to do well.
When I saw the dress that I was wearing for the party scene, I studied it closely. Nicolette was an Interpol agent. She was smart and strong. She was tough, not afraid to get hurt or dirty. While she’d use her feminine assets, to a point, to get the job done, I couldn’t imagine she would go to work without the tools of her trade, such as a gun.
I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad trait that my annoyance could overcome my fears and doubts. But when I realized Nicolette was being treated as just a pretty face and sexy body, I got irritated. She was a kick-ass agent. So, my nerves evaporated and my need to advocate for my character took over. Not that anyone listened.
Irked, I made my way out to the set. When I saw Theo, I nearly forgot my annoyance. Good golly, the guy could wear a tux. I was realizing he could wear anything and look sexy as hell. I hadn’t yet seen him in anything yet that didn’t rev my girly parts. Not all handsome men could pull off all looks, from rugged, to casual, to professional, to formal. But Theo Wolfe could. Damn him. Annoyed that his well-fitted tux and easy smile could make me forget my mission, I gave him and Corrine my opinion on my character’s need to be a professional.
He was annoyed, but at least he gave in. By the time I started the scene, I had a clutch purse with a fake gun, and was assured there would be other female agents on my team by the time those scenes were shot. Yay for me!
The first scene we shot was simply me walking in the room. Easy. The dance scene was a little more challenging as Theo had that je ne sais quoi that even a strong, independent woman like me couldn’t quite not be attracted to. Before, when I thought he was just a douche, it was easy to ignore the good looks and hot body. Now that I knew he was actually quite charming; it was harder to brush off the attraction.
Proving to myself that I could deal with the way he affected me, I made my own suggestions on the scene. The way Theo’s eyes flared with heat made me wonder if he felt the steam too. Then I remembered he was acting. Thank goodness I could hide my reactions behind acting too.
However, the amount of sizzle I felt between us did give me butterflies the next day as I prepared for the library scene that included the first kiss.
I was back in the green dress with my hair up, and I had my clutch purse with the fake gun. The first scene we shot was me skulking down a hall toward the library and peeking in as I followed Theo. Nicolette was certain he was a thief and was determined to catch him in the act.
/>
The next scene was with Theo. He walked onto the set looking like a million sexy bucks again. Corrine gave us directions and then I started toward the door where the scene would begin.
Corrine called action.
From the door, I looked at Theo leaning against the back of a couch in the library, his legs crossed as he stared at a wall of paintings.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” I said as my character Nicolette.
He smirked. “You know I’m bored and like to read?”
I sauntered to him, noting the amusement in his eyes as I did. I leaned back against the couch next to him.
“Since when do you read about paintings?” I asked, studying the paintings as if I was trying to decide his target.
“I got distracted.”
“Hmm,” I said with skepticism. “Why does a handsome billionaire feel compelled to steal priceless works of art?” I mused.
“You think I’m handsome?”
I rolled my eyes, and took a breath. “Why do you take things that aren’t yours?”
He crossed his arms. “How do you know that these aren’t stolen already?”
As the script directed, I turned to look at him, confused by the statement.
“They say ownership is nine-tenths of the law. If someone were to steal one of these, how long before you’d be trying to protect it from being stolen by someone else?”
“You can’t own what you steal,” I said.
“Sure you can. The Langfords do.”
I straightened and turned to look at him, my mouth agape. “You’re saying the Langfords stole one of these?”
“Not the Langfords specifically. But I would guess nearly all of these were stolen at some point.”
I frowned and looked toward the paintings.
“How long do you think it takes for stolen art to be passed as legitimate?” he pondered. “Eighty years?”
My character knew he was giving me a clue to what he was up to. As my character, I appeared to do the mental math to determine what was going on eighty years ago. World War II.