by Miranda Lee
His smile this time was full of admiration and respect. ‘So you won’t mind if I hire Lachlan for the occasional movie?’ he asked, watching her closely to see how she would react.
‘Why should I mind?’ she shot back at him. ‘If you think I’m still in love with the man, then you’re dead wrong. I can see now that I was no better than those “silly female fans” you described. Who think “a handsome face, a good body and a dazzling smile is the be-all and end-all”. I confess I used to watch his movies and drool with the rest of them. But I assure you I wouldn’t drool now.’
Wouldn’t you? Blake wasn’t so sure about that. What was that saying about fearing a woman doth protest too much?
‘I still won’t be inviting him here to my home ever again. If and when we do business it will be at my office.’
‘That’s your prerogative, Blake. And your decision.’
Juanita coming in at that moment interrupted what was becoming an awkward conversation.
‘More coffee?’ she asked.
‘No, thanks,’ Kate said, and gave Juanita a warm smile.
Blake hadn’t quite finished his yet, and said so.
Juanita nodded. ‘Carlos wants to know what guest bedroom to put Kate’s suitcase in.’
‘None of them,’ Blake told her. ‘Tell him to put it up in my bedroom.’
Juanita smiled. ‘Si,’ she said, and hurried out to tell her husband the news.
Kate glanced at Blake. ‘Juanita seemed pleased.’
‘She likes you.’
‘Hasn’t she liked any of your other women?’
‘I have never had a woman stay here with me before—not even for a night.’
‘Really? So where do you have sex, then? At their place?’
He had to laugh. It was a long time since he’d been with a girl who was so direct.
‘Sometimes.’ And sometimes in trailers on location or in hotel rooms. ‘If you must know, my love-life has been very limited since I moved to America. In actual fact I hadn’t had sex for several weeks before I met you.’
‘Really? Why not?’
Why not, indeed? Maybe he was bored with the kind of women he’d been sleeping with. Maybe he was sick to death of one-night stands and ships that passed in the night.
Maybe I was waiting for someone like you, he wanted to say, but didn’t. As a very experienced scriptwriter, he instinctively knew when something was too much too soon.
Blake shrugged. ‘I’d been very busy working on Lachlan’s last movie. It wasn’t turning out as well as I would have liked. I needed to rewrite a couple of scenes and reshoot them. Then the editing afterwards was a nightmare. Most of it ended up on the cutting room floor. Thank God the movie’s got a good score. Good music can do wonders. It won’t lose money, but I doubt it will set the world on fire. Now, enough of this chit-chat, my love. I’ll just finish up this coffee and then it’s off to bed for us.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘WHAT’S KEEPING YOU so long?’ Blake called out to her from the bed.
Kate had insisted on having a shower first. Alone, this time—unlike when she and Blake had showered together during that sex-crazed night back in Sydney. She didn’t want to do anything kinky with him. She just wanted to be with him, to have his arms around her and to have him make love to her as if she was really his love. It was silly of her, she knew, to feel like this about him. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.
Was this true love at last? she wondered as she dried herself.
Her feelings were certainly different from what she’d felt for Lachlan. But she couldn’t be sure yet. It was way too soon. But, oh, he made her so happy.
Kate smiled at this last thought. Because that was what he’d said he wanted to make her. Happy. Well he’d succeeded all right. And how!
‘If you don’t get yourself out here pronto, madam,’ Blake called out, ‘I’m going to come in there and ravage you on the spot.’
‘You are such a beast,’ she said laughingly, and emerged from the bathroom demurely covered by a huge bath sheet.
‘Take that damned thing off,’ he demanded testily. ‘Then get yourself in here.’
Kate liked it that she didn’t feel nervous or shy with him, slowly unwrapping the towel and letting him feast his eyes on her naked body. She’d returned to the beauty salon the day before her flight was due and had every scrap of hair waxed off her body. And she meant every scrap.
Blake’s eyes smouldered with desire as they raked over her. ‘How did you know I like that look?’ he said thickly.
‘I didn’t. I just hoped you would. And it makes me feel sexy.’
‘You are sexy—with or without clothes.’
‘You say the nicest things.’
‘Not always.’ And he threw back the bedclothes, showing that he was not only naked but armed and ready for action.
She dived in and snuggled up to him, pretending to be shocked when he said what he wanted to do to her in rather crude terms.
‘Such language,’ she chided, and kissed him on the neck.
‘Well, it’s a much better word than shagged.’
‘I agree with you. But I would prefer make love—do you mind?’
‘Not at all. It’s a lovely expression. Let’s make love, then.’
‘Yes, please.’ And she lifted her face to his.
His kisses were gentle to begin with. But not for long. Kate welcomed the passion of his mouth. And his hands. Her breasts swelled in readiness for his caresses, her nipples aching to be played with. And play with them he did—sometimes tenderly, sometimes roughly. She gasped, then sighed, then gasped again.
‘I love these,’ he said, and pulled at them until they were even longer and harder.
When she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer he moved on, one of his hands dipping down between her thighs to torture her there. But, oh, how she loved it. Loved it that he seemed to know exactly what to do. Loved it that he kissed her mouth at the same time...invading her in twin places.
He was a master magician with her body. But also with her head. For there were no bad thoughts to haunt her during his lovemaking. Nothing but the here and now, which was both blinding and blissful.
She cried out when he entered her at last, her body lifting to his, soaring higher and higher until it splintered apart. His name flew from her panting lips when she felt him come along with her. For what felt like ages she was suspended on a plateau of wild throbbing pleasure. And then she was falling, as though from a great height. But there was no fear...nothing but the sensation of freedom and, yes, love.
It was the last thought Kate had before sleep claimed her. That she loved this man who’d set her free—free to be the woman she’d always wanted to be.
* * *
Bloody hell, Blake thought as he held her sleeping body close. If this isn’t love then what is it?
Whatever it was, it scared the living daylights out of him. Because it was almost out of his control. But only almost. He could still think, he supposed. Blake had always been of the belief that if he could still reason then he hadn’t fallen into that particular honey trap. Not yet, anyway.
Easing her out of his arms, he withdrew, then practically staggered into the bathroom. His legs felt so weak. Yet he’d only had her once. Maybe it was the build-up of the last few days which had made his orgasm so momentous, so overwhelming. Or maybe it was just her. She did things to him—made him feel things and plan things which were quite alien to him.
Once he’d got over the fiasco with Claudia he’d lived a very independent lifestyle, not needing or wanting anyone in particular. He’d had the occasional girlfriend, but nothing serious. Sex for him had become nothing more than the scratching of an itch, so to speak.
Yes, his bed partners were still usually actresses, but that was only natural. In his line
of work he met lots of actresses. They were invariably attractive girls, intelligent and amusing—and very keen to be seen with him. Sex with them was easy and satisfying, but instantly forgettable. He never made them promises he couldn’t keep, never let them think there was any kind of future with him.
Blake hadn’t lied to Kate when he’d said no other woman had stayed with him up here. After he’d moved into this house fifteen months ago he’d decided that it was going to be his private domain—a sanctuary where he could work and write and fantasise...not about sex, but about being lauded as the greatest movie-maker of the present day.
Success was very important to him. As it was to Kate, Blake reminded himself. He should never forget that. As wonderful as she was, she’d still had her eye on the main chance when she had accepted his offer of help plus his invitation to stay here at his house.
Yes, there was no doubt she found him attractive. Lots of women did. And, yes, she enjoyed sex with him. But she was still in the recovery phase after being in love with Lachlan. It would be foolish of him to imagine there was more to her feelings than gratitude and a whole heap of rebound lust.
Which was fine by him. He didn’t really want her to fall in love with him, did he?
Did he?
Blake scowled as he flushed the toilet, washed his hands, then padded back to bed. She was still dead to the world, curled up in a foetal position under the quilt, cuddling her pillow as if it was her favourite teddy bear.
How young she looked. Young and vulnerable.
Be careful with her, Blake’s conscience warned as he climbed into bed. Don’t hurt her. If you do you’ll hate yourself. And you haven’t hated yourself in quite a while.
He didn’t touch her again that night, despite his post-coital exhaustion quickly becoming a distant memory. He lay there next to her for ages, fiercely erect, before finally falling into a troubled sleep.
He woke before dawn and still he lay there, trying to relax—envying Kate, who hadn’t moved a muscle. In the end, he rose, quietly pulled on a tracksuit and headed downstairs to the gym.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
KATE WOKE SLOWLY, her eyes remaining closed whilst she wallowed in the warmth and comfort of the bed. It seemed extra comfortable this morning, she thought drowsily, wondering if her mother had put clean sheets on the previous day. Kate loved the feel of clean sheets...loved the—
Her eyelids shot up like a suddenly released blind. Kate sat up just as quickly, her rapidly clearing mind remembering everything in an instant. She was startled rather than shocked, because everything that had happened to her since she’d arrived in LA last night had been good. Very good. She regretted nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even falling in love with Blake—who was, she’d already noted, no longer in bed with her.
Her eyes darted around the bedroom, which seemed even larger in the daylight, the curtainless windows and the sunshine having the effect of extending it out to the deck and the view beyond. There was no sign of Blake anywhere. He wasn’t in the bathroom—its door was wide open. So was the door to his study. Perhaps he was downstairs, having breakfast.
Kate’s stomach growled, but it was her full bladder which demanded immediate attention. Jumping out of bed, she headed for the bathroom, sweeping up the discarded towel from the floor on the way, planning to use it as a cover until she could unpack and find the robe she’d brought with her.
No way did she want Blake returning to find her prancing around naked. She didn’t mind being without clothes when he was making love to her—that seemed perfectly all right. But an exhibitionist she wasn’t. Or maybe she just didn’t want to act like Maddie, who seemed to enjoy walking around in the nude—especially since she’d had her boob job.
Emerging from the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her, Kate went in search of her suitcase, which she knew was in one of the walk-in wardrobes. There were two. His and hers, presumably. One was filled with Blake’s clothes, the other empty, confirming Blake’s claim that he’d never had a woman stay here before her—a thought which pleased Kate no end.
She wasn’t under any illusion that Blake had somehow fallen in love with her. He didn’t seem a ‘falling in love’ kind of man. But she was obviously special to him. And he obviously trusted her to let her stay with him in his bedroom. She could see that since his disastrous marriage he’d become somewhat of a cynical loner, using women just for sex and not letting any of them get too close.
Whilst she went about the business of unpacking, Kate wondered what it was about her exactly that he liked so much. It wasn’t as though she was a great beauty. Or super-smart. Or highly experienced in the erotic arts. Though maybe that in itself held some kind of attraction. Maybe Blake fancied himself in the role of sexual tutor, getting off on showing her all the different forms of foreplay as well as many and varied positions for intercourse—most of which they hadn’t tried yet, but all of which Kate had read about.
She was widely read, and her choice in books was quite eclectic, from biographies to historical sagas and lots of contemporary fiction, some of which included quite explicit sex scenes. She’d always known exactly why her limited sexual experiences in the past had been disappointing, and had once upon a time hoped that Lachlan would give her what she secretly craved.
That hadn’t happened, of course. And, amazingly, she couldn’t care less. He meant nothing to her any more. Her only regret was that she’d wasted four whole years believing he was the love of her life. The reality was that her feelings had probably been nothing but a youthful infatuation. Puppy love, spawned by Lachlan’s golden-boy looks and his blistering charm.
When she thought about it in hindsight Kate felt somewhat foolish, though she consoled herself with the fact that most of the other girls at NIDA had fallen under his spell as well. None of them had seen him for what he was, either. But at the same time none of them had seemed all that heartbroken when he’d dated them, then dumped them.
Obviously they hadn’t deluded themselves about his character as much as she had. Or maybe, once they’d spent time with him one-on-one, they’d seen the real Lachlan, not the good-looking charmer. Now that her rose-tinted glasses were well and truly off, Kate appreciated just how much he’d used her to help him with his acting. It had been cruel of him to take advantage of her like that. Very cruel.
Maddie was welcome to him, she decided. They were well matched, those two—both vain and selfish and horribly shallow. Not worth thinking about any more. Back to unpacking.
Kate retrieved her dressing gown and toilet bag, hurrying back into the bathroom to clean her teeth before hanging up the towel and then slipping into the robe. That done, she quickly brushed her hair, put it up into a topknot, then returned to finish her unpacking.
She hadn’t brought a lot of clothes with her, only the things she really liked, as well as the new clothes she’d bought this week.
Kate smiled as she drew out her favourite new jacket. It was made of black velvet, which was very ‘in’ this year—or so she’d been told. It was cropped at the waist, with no lapels, and had silver zips decorating the pockets. Very stylish—and rather sexy when worn with her new tight white jeans and black high heels. The salesgirl had also talked her into adding a silvery grey silk cami, which she’d said made the outfit ‘pop’.
Kate couldn’t wait to wear it all for Blake.
‘And what are you smiling at, madam?’
Kate spun round at the sound of his voice. Blake stood in the open doorway, dressed in a navy tracksuit, a dark grey towel hanging around his neck.
Her smile was enigmatic. Or so she hoped. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’
He grinned as he dabbed at his damp forehead with one end of the towel. ‘I do love a mystery. And a challenge.’
She laughed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever presented you with either. I’ve been putty in your hands from the first.’<
br />
His own smile was wry. ‘You think?’
‘I know.’
‘You know nothing, sweetheart,’ he said, in an enigmatic tone of his own. ‘Now, I have to have a shower. I’m hot and sweaty. Have you showered yet?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Stop doing that for now, then, and have one with me.’
When she hesitated—she wasn’t sure why—he raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Come now, Kate, you’re not going to start playing games with me, are you?’
She frowned, suddenly unsure of herself. It was one thing to fall in love with this man... Another thing entirely to let him think she would jump to his command all the time. It was tempting to say yes, but was that the kind of woman she really wanted to be?
Definitely not. But, oh, it was difficult to say no.
Her pride struggled to her rescue—though it had a fight on its hands. Because when he went all masterful like that she wanted to obey him...wanted to do whatever he wanted her to do.
‘I’m not sure what sort of games you’re referring to,’ she said, with only the smallest quaver in her voice. ‘I’m a very straightforward kind of girl. But I don’t appreciate your ordering me into the shower like that. It’s not...respectful.’ Even as she said the word she thought how old-fashioned and prissy it sounded.
He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. ‘You’re right. I apologise. It’s just that you look so deliciously sexy in that silky thing you’re almost wearing. Forgive me?’
Kate glanced down at her black and white robe, which wasn’t silk but polyester and had cost her all of fifteen dollars on sale. It was quite a modest garment, reaching past her knees, and it had three-quarter-length kimono-type sleeves. The sash belt, however, had come loose, and the neckline was gaping. But, since she didn’t have much of a cleavage without a bra, she wouldn’t have thought she looked at all sexy.
Kate yanked the lapels together and tightened the belt, aware that her nipples felt like bullets under her robe. ‘Of course I forgive you,’ she said, already regretting her stance. What was that she’d said about being putty in his hands?