He laughed and leaned a shoulder against the wall of the theater. “Daniel told me you would react like this. Man, he sure can peg people. I have to hand him that.”
“You mean you’ve actually bothered to talk to him this week?” Carly burst out.
His eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. She pressed her lips together and stepped back. Where did that come from? Why couldn’t she just keep her big mouth shut sometimes?
“What do you mean by that, Carly?” he asked.
She took a deep breath and shrugged. It was better not to try to explain. It usually got her into trouble. “Nothing. You’ve been gone, is all.”
Unsatisfied, Asher scowled and began pacing around her. Like a hunter. He circled behind her, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He was trying to intimidate her. Well, she wasn’t having any of it; no man was going to make her feel uncomfortable this summer. Not even one she kind of, maybe, in a way, had the hots for. Deciding to play it off, Carly cocked her head to the side and sighed, feigning boredom.
Despite her many resolutions to herself, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to touch him. She leaned over as he passed again and patted his shoulder in a patronizing manner. A split second later, Asher reached up and clasped her hand in his warm, powerful grasp. Her stomach plummeted again and she stepped back.
“Look, Carly. You’re going to have to let Danny have his way on this one. I’m afraid you don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. You spend a lot of time down here by yourself at night, don’t you?”
Carly wrenched away from his grasp. “So what?” she retorted.
“So, that makes you vulnerable. And I have volunteered to keep you safe. It’s the least I could do for my brother.”
Carly bit back her retort. Yeah, the very least you could do! She swallowed when he placed his hand on her shoulder. He smiled at her and she lifted her eyebrows.
“Daniel and Sophie were adamant. And you don’t want to upset those dear people. A gimp and a pregnant lady?” He smirked.
Carly stared at him for a few seconds, and then sighed in frustration, hating that she would cave in. “No, I suppose not. So, what, are you going to follow me down to the theater and sit there while I work at night?”
“Yes, and follow you to meetings, and follow you on trips to town, and follow you to the breakfast table, and — ”
She gasped and stomped her foot. “No way. What are you going to say next? You’ll follow me into the bathroom?”
A slow grin spread over Asher’s face. His dimples seem to mock her as he laughed. “Honey, you’ve already taken care of that job. I think I can manage to stay outside the bathroom while you are … ah … bathing.”
Her face bright red, Carly glared at him. “That was a low blow, Asher,” she whispered.
He chucked her under the chin and pulled her in for a friendly hug. “Oh, come on. I couldn’t resist. You know you would have said the same thing if the tables were turned.”
His arms were like bands of steel, but gentle. Her face buried in his chest, Carly breathed in the scent of pure, clean male, tempered with a hint of oil paint. Her head swam.
Asher pulled back and looked at her. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Her mouth opened slightly and her tongue snaked out to wet her dry lips. His gaze wandered over them and she drew in a breath. Still, he held her close. Carly’s heart hammered and she shifted slightly in his arms.
“Carly,” he whispered, and ran a hand from her back up to her hair. “Damn.”
She felt the gentle tug as her face was lifted upwards, and then his lips were on hers. He kissed her slowly, exploring. Her hands found his solid shoulders and he pulled her in closer as she began to slide to the ground. Her breasts were flattened against his chest. His mouth was firm and insistent and Carly’s hands rose to tangle in his hair. She lifted her chin, parting her lips in welcome.
Asher groaned, but hesitated. He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. Deep brown eyes met yielding gray eyes, and neither of them moved. His mouth against hers, he whispered, “Not here. Not now. But soon.”
Their eyes locked for a few seconds more. She could barely breathe, much less blink. Slowly releasing her, he crammed his hands into his pockets and stepped back. Her eyes fluttered shut and she lifted a hand to her hammering chest. Dimly, she heard the theater door slam shut. Raising a trembling hand to her lips, Carly Foster smiled like a fool.
Chapter Six
“So you think you have the perfect match for us, huh?” Carly asked her friend Mike.
Pushing her cup of coffee away, she shifted the phone to her other ear, reached over the pile of drawings on the kitchen table and grabbed a legal pad. She grinned as she thought about how relieved Sophie was going to be.
“Sure thing. I wouldn’t steer you wrong, Carly,” replied the voice on the other end of the phone, “Plus I stand to make a good commission from this; that never hurts.”
Carly laughed and settled more comfortably in her chair, smoothing the soft cotton of her jeans skirt. “Okay, Mike, give me the details.”
“Well, she retired … I mean, left a soap opera about three years ago. She was on it for about … well, quite a while. Passion Sunset. Have you heard of it?” he asked.
“I can’t say that I spend much time watching soaps, but yeah, I’ve heard of it,” she smiled, “go on.”
‘Well, as you can imagine, she can learn lines in the blink of an eye, with all of that soap experience. Plus, she’s quite beautiful, and a decent person to boot.”
“What’s the catch, Mike? Why would she want to come out to the middle of nowhere in New Mexico to do a play no one’s heard of in a hundred years?” Carly asked.
“No catch. And hey, why did you go out to the middle of nowhere to a theater no one’s ever heard of?” he countered.
She laughed again. “Point taken. So, tell me more.”
“Well, here’s what I’m thinking,” he began, “because she is a minor celebrity, we could work it into her contract so that she could make a few appearances in Albuquerque before your show opens. You know, radio spots, that sort of thing. Drum up some publicity.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea. And maybe she could go on TV, too. So, give me her name.”
Mike chuckled uncomfortably. “I’ll have to ask her about television, but we’ll see,” he replied.
“What’s her name?” Carly pressed.
“Oh. Well, her name is Marilyn Masters,” Mike said, “and you won’t regret it, Carly. Your producer will be getting a gem of a lady here.”
After making a few more notes on her pad, Carly stretched and stood up. “It’s nice talking with you, but I had better go down to Daniel’s apartment and let him know about this, Mike. I wouldn’t worry about it though; I think he’ll be sold. Poor guy, the more pressure we can take off of him right now, the better. And Ross will be your best friend for life.”
Mike laughed. “Ross, Ross, Ross. What a man. He could be a lot more than a best friend, as far as I’m concerned, Carly.”
“You are so bad,” she said, “But really, I’ve gotta go. Daniel will call you back right away, I’m sure.”
Satisfied that the burden of finding a replacement actress was lifted, Carly stretched again and yawned. Walking to the sink, she began to dump her cold coffee. Lost in thought, she looked out the open window to the right of the sink. And jumped.
“Dammit,” she swore, as dark coffee splattered down the front of her white top.
Asher’s grinning face was two inches from hers. “Good going, Carly,” he smiled. “Hey, aren’t you glad I’m your guardian angel? Like you said, anything we can do to help Daniel.”
Carly rolled her eyes, put the cup in the sink and grabbed a dishtowel. She sponged at her damp top and threw the towel back on the counter. Leaning on
the windowsill, she regarded him through the screen that separated them.
His eyes sparkled as his gaze shifted to her lips. She felt her face flush as his gaze slid next to her tank top, which had slipped low enough to expose the top of her bra. Yanking it up, she narrowed her eyes at his amused expression.
Carly poked a finger at his face through the screen. “I thought you were supposed to be a bodyguard, not a stalker,” She reached up to slam the window for effect. It was stuck. She grunted and shoved on it, but it didn’t move.
Asher chuckled and disappeared. Seconds later, she heard the kitchen door swing open, and he was behind her. Close behind her. “Need some help with that?” he murmured, his breath on her neck.
Carly whirled around and ducked under his arm. “No thank you. What I need is help laying out a painting grid on the ceiling in the theater.”
Asher glanced at his watch. “The actors started early today … so rehearsal ends at one P.M. It’s only nine A.M. What do you suppose we should do for four hours?” He hopped onto the kitchen table, his long legs swinging his feet onto the seat of a chair.
Opening her mouth to yell at him, Carly stomped over and punched a finger close to his face. He caught it and brought it to his lips, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “Yes?” he went on.
“It’s not necessary to make plans with you every second of every day,” she countered, and snatched her finger away. Why did he keep doing this? Antagonizing her constantly?
Ever since the day he told her that he was her “bodyguard,” Asher had turned up like a bad penny everywhere she went. And each time she spotted him, her stomach jumped like crazy. It made her so mad at herself … that she couldn’t control her reaction to him. And it made her cranky and sleepless, knowing that he was just a few feet away across the hall at night, behind a closed door, lying in a warm bed, his long eyelashes brushing his strong cheeks. His solid chest rising and falling in dreamless sleep. His long, warm limbs wrapped around a pillow. A pillow that she wished was … bad. Bad girl.
Carly shook herself and frowned. Eye to eye with Asher, she clasped trembling hands behind her back. “Well, I’m waiting? Why do you think I have to make plans with you all of the time?” She tapped her foot.
He raised his hands to her shoulders and began to massage. “Carly, Carly,” he sighed, “You’ve gotta loosen up. You ought to take some pointers from Buddy. Maybe yoga would alleviate some of that sexual tension you seem to carry around.”
Her mouth dropped open.
Grinning, he slid off the table and opened a cabinet door. “Here’s how I’m going to help you out.” He shoved a picnic basket in her direction. “We’re going to make a nice little lunch and take a hike. The exercise will do wonders for your black mood this morning.”
Carly grabbed the basket and sputtered, but was too embarrassed to take the bait. Sexual tension? Where had that come from? Well, she wasn’t going to run away from him. That was just what he wanted. Then he could run after her and make fun of her until she got even angrier. Wrenching open the refrigerator door, she turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
“Asher, you’re on. I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to get away from work for a couple of hours.” She slammed a jar of pickles on the counter. “But don’t think that agreeing to go hiking with you constitutes permission for you to touch me.” Her chin shot up into the air. “Since it was your idea, you make the lunch. I have to change my clothes.” Sniffing, she pushed open the swinging door, the sound of Asher’s deep chuckle mocking her as she crossed the lobby.
After telling Daniel the good news about Marilyn Masters, Carly went to change clothes. Up in her room, she pulled open a dresser drawer and began rummaging through her shorts and tops. She’d show Asher. All she had to do was get a grip on her nerves. Pulling on a fresh pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she laced up her hiking boots, grabbed her brush and ran it through her hair. She jammed a baseball cap on top, pulled her hair through the back opening and took a quick look in the mirror. Good. A no-nonsense hiking look. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and tied a sweatshirt around her waist.
Asher was waiting in the lobby, stretched out on top of the front desk. “You done primping for me?” he asked in a smooth voice.
“You really shouldn’t lounge on top of antiques, Asher,” she admonished as she sailed past him, picking up the picnic basket on window seat next to the door. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”
• • •
Asher chuckled and hopped down. She sure was something. Catching the screen door and following her outside, he took the opportunity given to him with pleasure. His gaze examined her from behind, noting the sway of her silky ponytail and the gentle curve of her hips. And the way they moved as she jogged down the front steps. He took a deep breath. She smelled like spring flowers.
He shook his head. It really wasn’t wise to be playing this game with his feelings … and hers, but she was proving to be irresistible. Well, for as long as it lasted, it was something to keep his mind occupied, and off of New York City. And his lost paintings. The paintings that had taken two years of his passion and energy to complete. Frowning, he shook off the unwelcome remembrance of what could have been. The past was just that, and damned if he was going to torture himself thinking about a part of his life that caused pain. It just wasn’t worth it.
Quickening his step to catch up with her, he reached out and grabbed the basket. “Do you even know where we’re headed?”
Carly’s head whipped around and she gave him a smile that made his stomach flip. “Does it really matter? A mountain is a mountain. And there are plenty of those around here.”
Asher jogged in front of her and pointed toward the end of the street. “See that path up there? That’s the one that leads to Ruby Spring.”
“We’re in Ruby Spring, Einstein,” Carly retorted.
Asher laughed and grabbed her hand. “Just wait, Ms. Foster, just wait.”
• • •
“Hold. HOLD!” Ross shifted in his seat in the front row of the theater, raised his hand and made a note in his script. “Buddy, do you have that new blocking? I didn’t see you write it down.”
Buddy strolled downstage and peered down at Ross. “Dude … yes.” He grinned and tapped the side of his head.
Ross crossed his legs and pursed his lips. “Really. So then I guess you wouldn’t mind repeating that back to me?”
Buddy yawned and plopped down on the edge of the stage. “OK. Here goes: Cross from the down left chair up to the up right corner and jump up on the sofa. Sword fight, sword fight. Knock the sword out of the villain’s hands, turn down right and check on the girl tied to the bar. Turn back upstage when he comes after me. Punch his lights out, untie the girl, pick her up and cross back up right to the sofa. Dump her on it, and then kiss her. Correct?”
Ross pursed his lips again and considered Buddy for a few seconds. “Yes,” he said carefully, “But it’s hard to tell if you know what’s going on half the time.”
“Dude, I know I’m frustrating. But I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
Ross sighed, giving up. “As long as you stay in character when we get to tech week, just do what you have to for now, I guess.” He craned his neck to look back at Sophie, who was pacing the center aisle near Parker’s stage management desk. “Soph, how are you feeling?” he asked.
“OK, but pretty tired. I’m trying not to think about it.” She gave him a weak smile.
Ross gauged her mood and ventured, “Any more on when Marilyn Masters is getting here?” It was a poor choice.
“ROSS. Daniel told you an hour and a half ago that her plane lands tomorrow. I told you an hour ago that her plane lands tomorrow. Quit asking me. If something changes, you’ll be the first to know.” Sophie’s outburst was so loud it echoed. She glared at him and massaged her back.
He b
linked for a few seconds in astonishment. “Yes ma’am,” he responded, turning around and shaking his head.
The theater was dead quiet and the actors on stage were motionless. Buddy looked over at Nancy, who was examining her nails, and then back at Jack, an older gentleman from Denver, who was playing the villain. Jack raised a white eyebrow at Buddy, and then opened his script, pretending to frown in concentration.
Parker, rising from his desk, cleared his throat. “You wanna take a break now, Ross?”
Sophie moaned and sat down. She glared at Ross and clasped her hands over her swollen belly.
Ross glanced over at her and shook his head silently at Parker. “Not now,” he mouthed. Sitting up straight in his seat, Ross clapped his hands. “Okay! Let’s get back to it. Go back to the top of page forty-six and Jack, this time you need to be quieter. You’re supposed to be hiding behind the sofa.”
Sophie moaned again.
Sighing, Ross jumped up and walked to where she sat with her head bowed. “What? If you don’t like the blocking, I can change it. You’re the producer of course; I’m just a director,” he said, trying to keep the testiness out of his voice. He failed.
Sophie lifted her head and looked up at Ross. Tears ran down her sweet, puffy face. “No, it’s not that!”
“Whoa,” Ross exhaled. His frustration fizzled and he took her hand. “What is it then? Come on, let me help you up. We can go outside and get some fresh air, huh?”
Sophie wrestled her hand loose and grabbed the front of his shirt in her fist, yanking him in close. “I can’t get up,” she cried out.
He rolled his eyes. Sophie had been difficult all week, but today took the cake. “Why not, sweetie?”
She rested her head against his chest. “Because my water just broke and it’s embarrassing and scary and well … not FUN. Not fun at ALL.” A sob ripped out of her throat and she began to cry in earnest.
A jolt of adrenaline running through his gut, Ross stroked her hair and reached in his pocket for the cell phone. “Don’t worry,” he soothed, all business again. “We knew this was coming, and we have a plan. Asher’s going to drive you, and I’ll follow with Daniel. Don’t cry, sweetie. We’ll be at the hospital quicker than a rattlesnake.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Guys, rehearsal is obviously canceled for the day. You can go on back to Albuquerque. And Nancy … go sew something.”
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