by Scott, Lisa
$10,576. The exact amount George owed in back taxes. Kate’s stomach swirled. Why did Teague have this information? Thinking back, she remembered that earlier that morning, he’d set down a few papers when he came in. She’d been too busy tossing her shoes at him to give it a second thought.
“Room service.”
The knock on the door startled her and she dropped the papers. Teague woke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “What time is it?”
“Hello? Room service.”
Kate didn’t know what to say as she opened the door. She took her food and signed for the meal, but she’d lost her appetite. With a shaking hand, she closed the door, set down the tray, and stared at the papers scattered on the floor.
Teague followed her gaze.
Kate fought back a mix of anger and embarrassment. “Why do you have this information about my stepfather?” she managed to say. “Are you investigating me? You weren’t so choosy when you needed a ride.”
Teague rubbed his face and stretched. “The press has been poking around, asking about your stepfather’s tax bill.” He shrugged. “I thought I’d put an end to the questions and pay it off. I made a few calls last night. It’s taken care of.” He walked over to Kate and picked up the papers.
She crossed her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was no big deal, Kate. Our week here in the bungalow will cost more.”
Instead of feeling thrilled, she was sick to her stomach. Her throat was tight and her head throbbed. She didn’t know what to say—how dare you or thank you?
He set the papers on the table, then put his hand on her shoulder. “It was a problem I could solve, so I did. One less thing to be questioned about. I left a message for your stepfather, to let him know.”
She stepped back. “That’s the reason I needed to earn extra cash this summer—to pay off the taxes and save my mama’s house. You can deduct it from my fee. Hopefully, I won’t cause any more problems for you.”
Overwhelmed, she turned away and headed for the bathroom for some privacy. For a moment, a little part of her wished he had done it out of concern for her. But it was only to protect his image. Her biggest problem in the world was just a little nuisance he could easily wipe away. They really did live in two different worlds.
He grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?? You don’t have to worry about this anymore.”
She pulled away from him. “Don’t act like you did it for my benefit.”
“Kate …” He reached for her hand and caught her fingers. “I didn’t know that’s why you needed the money. But if I helped you out a little bit, that’s a huge plus. I’m happy to do it.”
If only he weren’t an actor, maybe she could believe him. But why did it even matter? The tax bill was paid off, and her mother’s home was saved—for now. It was the thing she wanted most. She snuck a peek at Teague. Maybe the thing she wanted most had changed. He was holding her hand, and it left her as breathless as she’d be after a few rounds on the dance floor at The Hideaway.
“Hopefully, no one will ask about it at the premiere tonight,” he said.
And the nausea returned. In a few hours, Kate would be walking the red carpet on Teague’s arm. Had anyone ever thrown up on the red carpet before? Too bad she hadn’t tucked a barf bag from the plane into her purse.
“I don’t think anyone will notice if I’m not there.”
He took a deep breath and slid his hands up her arms. “I’ll notice. I want you there.” He squeezed her shoulders and the prickling sensation skittered down to her toes.
She ignored the feeling. “Right. Because the cameras will be there.”
Teague shook his head. “Kate, I want you with me.”
“Still trying to win that bet.” The agonizing quiver in her tummy was getting harder to fight.
He shook his head and whispered, “No. That’s not why.”
Facing each other, the air crackled between them, neither willing to make a move and spook the magic. Kate looked up into his eyes, his lids and lashes at half-mast, moving into a kiss-me-now-you-fool position.
But she was the fool. Kate looked down and stepped back, too scared to make the next move. Too scared it would make her even crazier to have this man. A man guaranteed to break her heart more thoroughly than a rock whizzing through a window. There was no way this could have a happy ending. Spell broken. “I better start getting ready,” she said to the floor.
His hands slid off her shoulders. “Right. You probably should.”
Kate bee-lined it to the bathroom, telling herself to walk it off, like the time she’d been hit with a softball pitch when she filled in for the gym teacher. She stopped and ogled the elegant marble room, which was bigger than her bedroom back home. She washed up in the huge, tiled shower that featured seven different nozzles—most of which she didn’t know how to operate, several of which sprayed so hard it hurt. She hopped out and climbed in the Jacuzzi tub to relax and tried not to imagine Teague in the bubbles with her when he rapped on the door.
She squeaked in surprise.
“Sorry to bother you, but your phone’s been ringing nonstop,” he said from the other side of the door.
“Hang on.” She wrapped her soapy self in a plush robe, padded across the cold marble floor and grabbed her phone. She looked at the missed calls. Dina had called seven times in half an hour. That can’t be good.
Her fingers shook as she dialed. Dina answered on the first ring. “George is gone. Packed his bags and took off this morning.”
Perfect. How could she help Dina when she was clear across the world? “Any idea where he went?” She stood there, warm water puddling at her feet.
“He’s coming to see you.”
KATE WAS STILL in the bathroom with the stylists who’d just arrived. Teague readjusted his cufflinks for the eighth time. Why was he so nervous? It was Kate. He was desperate to be alone with her, to discover every inch of her. To taste every inch. He wasn’t even thinking about how his movie would be received by the critics and the judges—which was incredible, because a year ago this film had consumed his life. Now, it was a curvy, silky-haired blonde invading his every thought, even though he had told himself, No way.
Pacing the room while she got dressed, he stopped to snap open the cap of her body lotion, taking a deep whiff of the sweet, creamy scent always drifting off her. He dropped the bottle back on the vanity and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Pulling this off had been trickier than he’d imagined. The mini fridge beckoned, and he tossed back the entire contents of a tiny Captain Morgan bottle.
He wanted to take care of her. Paying off the tax bill had sparked something inside him, something strangely intimate. Her reaction had crumbled his will power. He wanted her to need him.
He froze. That’s it, isn’t it? He smacked his hands together. “That’s the key to this whole damn thing,” he mumbled to himself. He just wanted her to need him—and want him back. Exactly!
He snapped his fingers and stood outside the bathroom door like a horny teenager, imagining Kate’s state of undress. This was getting ridiculous. He didn’t have feelings for a woman he’d just met. How could he? No. He wasn’t falling in love with her. That was his stupid hormones working in overdrive trying to get this party started. That was his problem. He wasn’t getting what he wanted. That’s why he’d been so desperate to get back to her when he was at the bar with Simone. He’d already had Simone. He hadn’t had Kate. That’s all it was.
He popped open her lotion again and took in another lungful. Once they finally hooked up, this insane desire would go away. Life would be back to normal. T-Rex would rule the land again. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Shred, shred. Shred. Right? Damn right.
He needed to get her in bed tonight so he could concentrate on more important things. Like his career. Like Stan Remington’s next movie. Like the baby. Kate was a nice, curvy distraction from all his worries. He poured himself another drink from the
mini bar to help him swallow this new theory.
WHERE WAS THE DAMN mini bar in this place? Kate definitely needed one of those cute little bottles of booze. Or four or five. George was coming to see her? Let’s panic about one thing at a time, Kate told herself, while her hair was blown out straight and then reset in big rollers. What was the old man thinking, leaving Dina all alone?
The stylists had interrupted her panic attack, and once her hair was fuller and shinier than nature intended, her two borrowed assistants helped Kate into her dress—one of those size-eight sample dresses, rarer than an albino leprechaun. They draped her in beautiful, sparkly jewelry. “You’ll be one of the most gorgeous ladies there tonight,” one said, folding her hands against her chest.
She didn’t dare to look in the mirror yet. “Thank you.”
She leaned toward Kate and lowered her voice. “That lipstick is a stain. Totally kiss-proof, so don’t worry about locking lips with that hunk of love you got out there.”
Kate’s cheeks blazed, and a soft tap on the door startled her.
“Ready?”
“I s’pose so,” she answered.
Teague pushed open the door and Kate’s knees wobbled. His dark tux and silver tie set off the glints of copper in his dark hair and his eyes seemed even brighter blue. She’d never seen anyone so handsome. Never. How could she show up on his arm? She’d look like a backwoods fool; probably get a special award for it. She could strut her stuff back home, but this guy and this crazy world he lived in shook her confidence. At least that’s why she figured her hands were shaking.
Teague took a step back and widened his eyes. “Wow.”
The stylists smiled and grabbed their things. “We’ll be going now.” One of the women bopped Teague with a big blush brush. “Don’t be messing up all my work on this girl.” She winked at him and bustled for the door like a fairy godmother clocking off duty.
TEAGUE WINKED BACK as the stylist scurried away. “I’ll be very careful.” He had a mind to stay in their bungalow and skip the premiere. Kate looked like a goddess, with her hair parted to the side, and long, flowing waves curling down her back. He could imagine her on top of him, and that hair closing in around him like a beautiful silk curtain. What would that feel like against his chest? He shook his head to clear out all that nonsense. Could they just get this over with already?
Kate smoothed her hands down her torso and along her hips and all that nonsense flooded right back in his brain. “What do you think? Do I look alright?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She balled up a fist and planted it on her hip. “Excuse me?”
He grazed his knuckles along her jawline. “You look gorgeous. Amazing. Breathtaking. You pick the adjective.” He wanted to hold her tight, keep her away from the camera’s glare. He didn’t want to share her. Yet, he also wanted to show her off. “I can’t imagine anyone more beautiful.”
She fingered her necklace. “Now you’re laying it on thicker than chicken steak gravy.”
What did he have to do to make her believe he wanted her? Every other woman read wild meaning in his most casual comments, but Kate couldn’t see him standing there, oozing desire out of every pore? He took her by the hand and pulled her to him. He kissed the tips of her fingers, nibbled a knuckle or two, and wrapped his hand around hers. She let out a breath of surprise. His other hand slipped behind her head and he dipped her, holding her above the ground where she hovered as precariously as this whole thing between them.
She gripped his arms. He liked the feel of her holding onto him. Lowering his mouth, he scrubbed his lips along hers. Her tongue beckoned, searching for his, but he pulled back cause if they got started, there’d be no stopping. His forehead pressed against hers. “That was just a preview.” He stood her back up and grazed a finger along her collarbone. “Let’s get this premiere out of the way, and we’ll pick up from here. And I’ll show you I’m not pretending.” Because he wasn’t—he wanted her.
And he wanted this longing for her to go away.
Kate’s mesmerizing eyes were wide and bright. “Sounds like a plan. Do we have to stay for the whole thing?”
Teague laughed. “We do. Let’s get it over with.”
Chapter 11
THEY STEPPED OUT of the limo onto a red carpet that almost matched the hues in the darkening sky. “Don’t let me fall,” she whispered, just imagining the headlines the next day if she fell on her face. Backwoods Bumbler Bombs on Big Night. Kate Riley Does The Hillbilly Flop.
“I’m not letting go of you all night. Trust me.”
Those words made her chest seize up. She didn’t know if she’d ever really trust him. She didn’t know if she’d ever really trust any man. But she tightened her hold on his arm and started walking up the carpet as people in the crowd shouted to them and cameras flashed. She just smiled and stayed close to Teague.
“Kate, over here!”
“How about a smile for the camera?”
“How about a kiss?”
The whole thing made her want to run away like a dog that finally broke off its leash. But Teague squeezed her hand, pulled it to his lips and kissed it. A collective sigh rose up from the crowd. Heck, she might have even sighed. A blur of flashes broke her gaze and luckily another star was coming up behind them, catching the camera’s attention. Kate and Teague moved on to the open-air seating in front of an enormous projection screen. It was almost like a drive-in movie, but without the popcorn and steamy back windows—which honestly, she’d much prefer.
She spotted dozens of actors and actresses she’d seen on the screen, but here they were just feet away from her, some saying hello to Teague, others shaking her hand—yes, her, Kate Riley from Willowdale, North Carolina, who had only recently plucked a People from the beauty shop to take home and read about all of these mythical Hollywood creatures. And here they were in the flesh, talking to her.
“You’re Kate Riley, right?” asked last year’s Best Supporting Actress Oscar winner outside the bathroom.
“Yes,” she managed to say.
The woman squeezed Kate’s hand. “Hope the press lets up on you soon.”
“Me too,” was her clever response. The actress seemed so normal, like a real flesh and blood person—talking to her—that she was a little too stunned to say anything else.
Kate wandered back to her seat, dazed, but not until after saying hello to two other A-list actors. Well, hot damn, this was something else. Kate smiled and nodded as the night unfolded, holding onto Teague like she might float away if she let go. Which she did not, not for one moment. Let go, that is, because she was definitely floating.
Teague wasn’t just incredible eye candy in the movie; he was great. He played a wounded American soldier home from Iraq, tormented by what the war had turned him into. Kate wiped away a tear more than once and squeezed his hand. He could be a serious actor, one of the blockbuster stars, she was sure of it. He looked so proud watching the movie, and her heart swelled for him. What the heck was that all about?
The night was warm, but a cool breeze rolling in off the ocean had her clutching her wrap and leaning toward him for warmth. He wrapped his arm around her, and for a moment all was right with the world.
The crowd roared with a standing ovation when the movie was over, and dozens of people shook Teague’s hand in congratulations when they tried to leave.
Kate recognized the short, dark-haired woman approaching him. The prison-warden-publicist-goon. The one who hated Kate. Ugh. “This is a wonderful set up for your meeting with Remington in two days,” she said. “He’s casting his next movie, and it’s perfect for you. Devote your full attention to Remington and come to the party by yourself.” June looked at Kate like she was a horsefly bobbing in her soup.
Teague smiled at June and Kate recognized it as one of his fake grins. She was getting good at reading his real moods.
“Thanks for your insight, June. And goodnight.” He pulled Kate close and whisked her away. True t
o his word he had stayed by her side all night, either holding her hand or draping his arm around her waist. They tried their darndest to leave the festival grounds, but someone was always waiting to talk to Teague, often throwing in a question for Kate.
“Teague! Aren’t you going to any of the after parties?” A tiny redhead in a white gown skipped up and planted a kiss on his cheek. She didn’t even look at Kate.
He stepped back from her. “How are you feeling these days, Kimmie?”
She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Great. Perfect.”
Kate noticed his strained smile. “Good. Kate and I are calling it a night.” He tucked Kate’s hair behind her ear and smudged his thumb across her cheekbone.
She trembled. They needed to get out of there, and fast.
But not before they were besieged by at least a dozen other drop-dead-gorgeous actresses stopping him, asking about his plans, practically rubbing themselves against him like barn cats in heat.
Those women really need to eat. She knew exactly the meal they had in mind, too—the one she was holding onto for dear life. Teague wrestled himself away from the last woman and they finally made their way out of the festival grounds.
She paced back and forth as they waited for their driver. “Don’t they read the papers? Don’t they know about your country-bumpkin girlfriend? They were totally hitting on you in front of me. Even when you did that thumb thing on my cheek.”
His dimples appeared. “You liked that, huh?” The man was way too pleased with himself.
She wasn’t going to let him waltz away from her anger. “Anyone would. Any of those women would.”
Despite her sour mood, it was a beautiful night. Palm trees rustled overhead, the smell of exotic flowers hung thick in the air, and the moon was a bright beacon in the sky. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was having a hissy fit right in the middle of a real-life fairy tale. No happy ending ever came out of that.
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Kate, they don’t care. I’ve had girls slip me their number while I was kissing another woman on the dance floor.”