DANI WAS STILL SLEEPING upstairs and Beau had just gotten the coffee started the next morning when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t as surprised as he would have liked to see his attorney/agent and publicist standing on Dani’s front porch. Edie and Ellsworth Getz were one of the power couples in Hollywood these days, presiding over a stable of the most gifted actors, directors and writers in the business. Having nurtured Beau’s talent and career from his first days in Hollywood, they were also like a father and mother to him. With a father and mother’s penchant for meddling.
“I don’t even want to know how you found me,” he grumbled. He had visited Laramie, Texas, often when he was a kid. He’d had an aunt who lived there. But he hadn’t been around much since his aunt had moved away ten years earlier. And he hadn’t yet told either Edie or Ellsworth of his plans to open an office of his production company there.
“It wasn’t easy,” Edie admitted as she breezed in, looking as smart as ever in a summery blue designer pantsuit. She patted her sleek blond chignon. “No one in the industry seemed to know where you were.”
They hadn’t, Beau thought. Until now. “I’m supposed to be on vacation,” he reminded her. He had worked nonstop for the past three years, with no more than a few days off here and there. The five weeks he had allotted himself were vital to his mental health. And his personal life.
“Your vacation was over four days ago,” Ellsworth said, looking just as chic as his wife in his Saville Row suit and carefully trimmed pewter-gray beard. He gazed at Beau shrewdly. “You were supposed to be back in Los Angeles last Friday.”
Beau shrugged and offered no apology. “I had a change of plans.”
“There’s no time for that. You have a movie coming out in two weeks. The premiere in Dallas is five days from now. Back-to-back interviews and publicity blitz start in seven days,” Edie said as she put on her publicist hat. All of which, it went without saying, took quite a bit of preparation. There were wardrobe fittings. Photo sessions. Question-and-answer sessions to sit through.
“I know all that,” Beau said, beginning to get a little irritated.
“Then why haven’t you been checking with your service or returning any of your calls?” Ellsworth demanded.
“I have more important things going on here in Laramie.”
“Like romancing Dani Lockhart to try and get a good review out of her?” Ellsworth accused.
Gently Edie took up where her husband left off. “There’s no doubt she’s fast emerging as the leading movie critic in the country. But to think you could seduce her into writing you a favorable review…well, you’d be wasting your time.”
“I quite agree,” Dani said icily, joining them in the kitchen. She had on blue-and-white-striped pyjamas. A matching calf-length robe was tugged on carelessly over that, the front falling open, the belt drooping on either side of her. Her coppery hair was all tousled, her cheeks pink from sleep, her eyes glittering with fiery amber lights. She looked beautiful and kissable—and ticked off as all get-out. Knowing what she must have heard, Beau couldn’t say he blamed her.
Beau bit back an oath. He hadn’t meant for Dani to be privy to any of this. Determined to end this unscheduled business conference as soon as possible, he turned back to his agent and publicist. “I’ll be in New York when I need to be in New York. And I will also be at the premiere in Dallas in ten days,” he promised flatly. “Until then I have personal matters to attend to.” And about that, he wasn’t budging.
Ellsworth jerked at the knot of his tie. “More than you know,” Ellsworth muttered, looking stressed out.
Edie looked at Beau steadily. “We need to talk, Beau. Something serious has come up, and I’m not sure Miss Lockhart should hear it.”
Dani glared at Beau, obviously believing the worst, and turned to go.
Acting on impulse, another thing he almost never did, Beau reached out, grabbed Dani’s hand and tugged her back to his side. “Stay,” he said. He drew a padded swivel chair up to the glass-topped breakfast table. “There’s nothing you can say Dani can’t hear,” he told Edie and Ellsworth.
Dani’s jaw dropped.
As did Ellsworth’s and Edie’s.
The pair thought about arguing with him, until they took a good look at his face and realized he was not going to budge about this.
“Fine,” Edie huffed after a moment. “As long as it is agreed nothing said here leaves this room.” Edie gave Dani a pointed look.
Dani sighed, looking more irritated to have her integrity questioned than her home commandeered for an impromptu meeting between Beau and his representatives. “You have my word.” She pushed the words through her teeth.
“It’s Sharon,” Edie said as Beau got steaming paper cups of coffee for everyone. “She’s secretly peddling a tell-all about her marriage to you to one of the television networks.”
At the thought of having the most intimate details of his private life splashed across the TV screen and being made a fool of, not just in private but in public this time, Beau clenched his jaw.
“It gets better,” Ellsworth warned wearily as he stirred sugar into his coffee. “She’s planning to close the deal and go public on the same night your new movie opens in Dallas.”
Edie looked really worried. “She’s planning to say that in your case art is imitating life, that your playing the pursuer of a married woman in the movie is more true to life than everyone knows. And that it was your secret sexual involvement with a string of prominent married women that prompted her to end the marriage to you.”
Beau shook his head in disgust and shot a look at Dani. He wished he knew what she was thinking, but her expression revealed nothing except a sort of subdued wariness where he was concerned. He turned back to his agent and publicist. “That’s complete bull and you know it.” For the first time Beau was regretting his decision to keep the real reason behind his divorce from Sharon private.
“Yes, we know it,” Edie said, her eyes full of sympathy for her client. She stirred artificial sweetener into her coffee. “But we’re not the movie-going public, and they may not think so. A scandal like this, timed to coincide with your movie’s debut, could dramatically hurt ticket sales. If ticket sales on Bravo Canyon are low the first week, well…” Edie looked steadily at Beau. “I don’t have to tell you how quickly films are leaving the theaters and going to video these days.”
Beau made no effort to hide his displeasure. “Can’t we stop her?” he demanded impatiently, drawing on his agent’s experience as an attorney.
Ellsworth shrugged. “You could ask for an injunction. But that would probably only bring more negative publicity and more speculation about whether or not Sharon’s allegations are true. Meanwhile, the new movie debuts…” Ellsworth’s voice trailed off. It wasn’t necessary to say more.
Beau took a long sip of coffee, then put his cup aside. “So what are you asking me to do?” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms.
“Talk to her,” Edie said.
Beau would sooner burn in hell. He noted Dani didn’t seem to like that option much, either. His jaw shot out pugnaciously. “No.”
Ellsworth looked at Beau sternly. “Her representatives, then. She must want something. If you don’t want to do it yourself, then authorize us to do it for you.”
Beau shook his head. “I’m not paying her off again.” He’d done that once, just to end the marriage, get it over with. And he’d regretted it ever since. “Besides, Sharon and I had an agreement. Neither of us was going to talk publicly about the reason the marriage ended. That agreement was a prerequisite of her getting any money from me. If she breaks it, she loses the settlement she won in the divorce.”
Edie sighed. “You’d have to sue her to get it back, and word around Hollywood is she’s already spent it all and then some.”
“All going after her that way would do is tie you up in more litigation for years and further the scandal.” Ellsworth backed up his wife.
“On the other ha
nd,” Edie continued persuasively, “if you could figure out a way to get her to stop this before it goes any further and does damage to either of your careers…”
“Maybe use your influence to get her a plum role in an upcoming film?” Ellsworth suggested.
“No,” Beau said firmly. He stood, signaling this impromptu meeting was over. “I paid her off once.” He looked at his agent and publicist grimly. “It was a mistake. I am not—I repeat not—doing it again.”
BEAU WALKED EDIE and Ellsworth to the front door and stood watching as they drove off. His expression was so dark and brooding that eventually Dani joined him on the wide front porch. She knew, even if he was far too much the strong silent type to admit it, that he really needed to talk about what was going on in his life. As his wife, albeit only temporarily, she needed to know so she could be braced for whatever else might be coming next from Sharon Davis and her bogus claims and the resulting public furor.
The only problem was finding a way to get Beau to talk to her about what he clearly did not want to talk about. To anyone. “What are you thinking?” she asked gently after a moment, hoping a little kindness and understanding would break the ice.
He turned to look at her, his eyes scanning her face. Searching for what exactly, she couldn’t say. “Breakfast,” he told her in a low hushed voice, his warm breath brushing her hair.
She became aware her pulse had picked up marginally. He looked so right, so natural, standing next to her on the porch. For a second Dani let herself fantasize how it might be to live there with him as husband and wife, to go to sleep with him every night and wake up with him every morning. Even if she didn’t believe for an instant what he was currently telling her—that he’d put the problem with his ex-wife completely out of his mind.
“I’m hungry,” Beau continued with the sort of lazy male insistence that had made him an international movie star. His sexy smile deepened as his gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. Turning so he faced her, he wrapped both arms about her waist. “How about you?”
Dani was hungry. She wasn’t willing to be diverted from her quest. “Then we should get dressed and head to one of the restaurants on Main Street,” she suggested, figuring they could talk on the way. She took his hand, intending to lead him back into the house.
Instead, Beau let go of her and lounged against one of the posts supporting the porch roof. He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the day before. Only this morning the white shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, revealing a two-inch strip of golden skin, covered with tufts of velvety black hair. His eyes were a very sexy dark blue. His black hair was rumpled, his lips soft and sensual. A day’s growth of beard lined his handsome face, giving him sort of a desperado aura and reminding her just how good he looked, in and out of bed, on and off a movie screen.
“No need for that,” Beau drawled. “Last time I checked, we had plenty of food in the refrigerator.”
Dani fastened on the we. He had certainly taken to the idea of couplehood awfully fast. She wasn’t sure she liked him making himself so much at home in what was still her place.
“Only one problem with that, cowboy,” Dani retorted. Knowing how easy it would be to find herself in bed with him again, but determined not to be sensually distracted, Dani stepped back and crossed her arms. “I don’t have any dishes unpacked yet. Nor am I even sure where any are.” There were so many boxes. None of them all that well marked. Trying to find even a couple of cereal bowls and spoons to use—never mind the dish detergent to wash them with—would be a nightmare. Besides, the less they were alone right now, she thought, the better. She didn’t want Beau getting any ideas about reenacting their baby-making session as a method of jogging their memories.
Beau’s smile only deepened. He pushed away from the support post, reassuring her with a wink, “Not to worry, sweetheart. I’ve got Old Faithful with me.”
Old Faithful! That sounded like a horse. Or a dog. Dani scanned the pickup truck he had left sitting at the curb and saw neither. “And what might Old Faithful be?” she inquired, wishing all over again he weren’t so darned appealing to the eye, even this early in the morning. She knew he wasn’t talking about some geyser.
“Hang on a minute and you’ll see.” Beau trotted down the steps, across the yard and over to his pickup. While Dani watched, he reached in behind the front seat and pulled out a saddle-brown leather satchel. Seconds later he had her back in the kitchen and was opening the custom-made case. Dani blinked at the contents. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but certainly not this. With effort, she closed her jaw, which had fallen open. “You travel with a black cast-iron skillet?” she asked in surprise.
“A perfectly seasoned black cast-iron skillet,” Beau boasted. “There is nothing worth eating this fine utensil can’t cook.”
Dani shook her head at the mischief shimmering in his eyes. “You’re speaking from experience, of course,” she guessed.
“Of course.” Beau took out two tin plates—suitable for using at a campsite—matching mugs, silverware and a velvet-wrapped set of professional-quality cooking utensils that included a grater-shredder, spatula, slotted spoon, vegetable peeler, paring knife and carving knife. He opened her refrigerator, peered inside at the wealth of groceries her sisters had brought over. Grinning, he shot her a look over his shoulder. “You up for some campfire eggs?”
Dani shrugged. “As long as you do the cooking.” Truth be told, she had never been all that great in the kitchen.
“No problem.” Beau broke open a package of bacon and layered six slices into the bottom of the pan. While it began to sizzle, he peeled, sliced and shredded two potatoes from the mesh bag on the counter. Entranced by his culinary know-how, which put hers to shame, Dani helped herself to some more coffee and watched for several minutes. He still hadn’t buttoned his shirt, and as he moved around the kitchen, she could see the muscles in his stomach and chest contract and expand as he moved. Not to mention the iron hardness of his thighs and calves, and the sexy shape of his buttocks beneath the soft blue denim of his jeans.
With effort, she forced her thoughts back to what had happened earlier. What she still wanted to know. And he was keeping purposefully mum about. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Dani surmised as she poured herself the last of the decaf in the pot, then set about making some more.
Beau removed the bacon and put it on a paper-towel-covered plate to drain. Then he gave her a sidelong glance that took in the sleep-mussed tangles of her hair and her cotton bedtime ensemble. “Tell you what?”
“Why your marriage to Sharon Davis really ended.”
His expression guarded, Beau studied her. “You really want to know, don’t you.” Beau slid the potatoes into the skillet.
“I’m curious.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders as he added a little bit of salt and a lot of pepper and cut off the rest of her questions with a don’t-mess-with-me look. “So is the rest of America.”
Knowing she would never understand him any better than she ever had unless he started telling her what was in his heart and on his mind, Dani ignored his demand she back off. “Only because you and Sharon kept it such a secret,” she said.
Beau reached for an onion and after peeling it, began to chop that up, too. “You don’t believe in privacy when it comes to a someone’s personal life?”
Dani shrugged, not sure how to answer that. The truth was, she wouldn’t be asking personal questions if she didn’t care about Beau. But she did care about him and had from the very first, even—to her amazement—when they weren’t getting along. Figuring that was a revelation that could be withheld for a more appropriate time, she tried another tack. “But you give up your privacy when you become a celebrity or a public figure, don’t you?”
“To a point,” Beau allowed reluctantly as he added the onion to the pan and stirred it in with the potatoes. Putting his spatula aside, he wiped his hands on a towel and turned to her. “Which is why it’s
so great hanging out in a small town like Laramie.” His eyes roamed her face with disturbing intensity, taking in the contours of her softly parted lips before returning to her eyes. “Once the newness of seeing somebody like me wears off—” he reached up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear “—I’m just a regular guy.”
Well, maybe not exactly regular, Dani thought, but she knew what he meant. Since he’d landed in town several weeks ago, people had taken great pains to respect his privacy and not fawn over him. They had, in fact, with the exception of that one giant publicity stunt he’d concocted with Shane McCabe, let him be just a regular guy. Beginning to tremble all over, from the heat radiating from his tall muscular body in mesmerizing waves, Dani stepped back. “So are you going to tell me or aren’t you?” She was aware her heart was pounding.
Beau leaned close enough to kiss her—and didn’t. “You really want to know?” he asked softly.
Dani nodded. “I really want to know.” Maybe it would give her the clue she would need to understand him the way he needed to be understood.
Beau exhaled and turned back to the stove. His back to her, he pushed the sizzling potatoes and onions around to the edges of the pan. “The pool guy,” he said gruffly.
Dani blinked, not sure what he was talking about. “What?”
“And the pizza delivery boy.” With a great deal more concentration than necessary, Beau broke four eggs, one right after another, into the center of the pan. “And the guy that delivered our groceries in Malibu.” He grimaced. “She slept with them all. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time.” His voice filled with bitterness as the corners of his mouth curved grimly. “Like a fool, I thought they all just had big crushes on her.” He paused long enough to shoot Dani a remorse-filled look. “They were a lot younger than her and in most cases were just completely gaga over the fact that she was a movie star. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Sharon’s incredibly beautiful and a well-known if not abundantly talented actress. It was normal for them to act funny around her. And me, too, for that matter, because of my celebrity status.”
The Bride Said, I Did? Page 8