Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set

by Sandra Marton

  He’d come down beside her and then the damned bed had swayed, groaned, and with a shriek of rending metal, it had collapsed in a heap, tumbling them to the floor in an undignified spill of pillows, sheets and blankets.

  There had been a second of stunned silence, and then everybody, including Cade, had burst into peals of laughter.

  Everybody but her.

  Well, Jerry hadn’t laughed, either, but it wasn’t because he’d been mor­tified the way she’d been. It was because he was angry at all the delays.

  ‘Fix the freaking bed,’ he’d snarled, stalking off the set. While the grips had hammered and sawed, the make-up man had scurried over and said he’d been asked to make her eyes look darker.

  Wearily, Shannon had closed her eyes while he applied some new shadow and liner.

  ‘Smashing, darling,’ the make-up man had cooed, but by the time the bed was in one piece again and Jerry had waved her back to the set, her eyes were tearing and red.

  ‘It’s probably just a little allergic reaction,’ she’d said desperately, while she tissued the make-up off. ‘Really, it’s nothing.’

  ‘Nothing,’ the make-up man had echoed frantically. ‘Nothing!’ He’d rushed to her side and when he did, he’d tripped over a cable and blown out an entire set of lights.

  ‘God give me strength!’ Jerry had screamed. ‘What next?’

  The heating system was what had come next. The studio was old. So were the ra­diators that heated it, and they’d suddenly set up a clatter that was loud enough to raise ghosts on Halloween.

  Then they went silent.

  That was the good news.

  The bad was that the whole system had died. Within minutes, the huge studio was like a walk-in refrigerator, so that now everybody was standing around in coats and hats.

  But there were still small miracles in the world, Shannon thought, shifting cautiously on the bed. Jerry had wanted a dress rehearsal, which meant that if the heat hadn’t failed, she’d have been sitting here, staring into the darkness, wearing nothing but a flesh-colored bodysuit, feeling naked as the day she’d been born, waiting for Cade, waiting for him to make his entrance and move on to the bed beside her, waiting for him to take her into his arms…

  ‘Shannon?’

  A shiver of apprehension ran through her. Jerry’s voice was a silken sigh, an ominous portent considering the mood he was in.,

  ‘Yes?' she asked in a cautious whisper.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m just waiting.’

  ‘For what? The crosstown bus?’

  She cringed at the acid tone of his voice.

  ‘Passion, Miss Padgett, passion! I want to see longing on your face, not resignation. Is that so much to ask? And where’s Make-up, damn it? Haven’t you got something you can use to kill the shine on her nose? Her nose looks like my mother’s freshly waxed floor!’

  Shannon cleared her throat. ‘I... I asked him to go easy on the powder, Jerry. I was afraid I might have another allergic reaction. You see, sometimes these things are cumulative. Once I couldn’t wear make-up for a week, and...’

  Crawford threw his arms up in disgust. ‘OK,’ he roared, ‘OK, that’s it. Everybody, go home. Go on, get out of here! What is this, a conspiracy? It’s bad enough I’m freezing my tail off, working in this barn they call a studio while it collapses around me, without having you tell me that we may have to tape tomorrow’s show with you looking like an ad for a bottle of spot remover.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow, Jerry. I’ll take an antihistamine as soon as—‘

  ‘Spare me the details, OK? Just get yourself in shape for an early start. I want you here at six a.m., Miss Padgett. We’ll work straight through until late af­ternoon and then we’ll tape the damned thing. Is there an outside chance you can manage to turn into an actress by then?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Yes, sir. I know I can..’

  ‘I hope so. Otherwise, I’ll have to assume I made a mistake in casting you. Maybe those sparks were a one-shot. Maybe I’m better off hoping for competency. Maybe I should hire my cleaning lady for this part!’

  ‘I’ll be fine tomorrow,’ she said quickly. ‘You’ll see.’

  I’d better see, because I damned well don’t have any more time to waste. You got that?’

  Shannon nodded and watched silence as the di­rector tossed his script aside and stalked off the set.

  Oh, God, she thought, lacing her trembling hands together in her lap, oh, God, he’s going to replace me. He’s going to fire me. He’s...

  ‘He’s not really blaming you, you know. He’s just frustrated.’

  Her head sprang up at the sound of that familiar, husky whisper. ‘Cade?’.

  He stepped out of the shadows and sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Stop looking as if Jerry handed you your notice. It was just a bad day for everybody. I think we’ll all feel better when we get this damned scene out of the way.’

  ‘If we ever do,’ she said glumly.

  ‘We will. You’ll see. Tomorrow will be perfect.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said tonelessly. Suddenly, her eyes widened. ‘I wonder if there’s time to catch Eli at the workshop.’

  ‘Didn’t he say he was going to be in Boston this week? What did you want to do? Read lines with him?’

  She shook her head. ‘I know my lines.’

  ‘Well, then, what’s the problem? If you know them...’

  A touch of pink rose to her cheeks and she turned away from Cade’s puzzled face.

  ‘There’s no problem,’ she said quickly, snatching up her jacket and starting across the studio. ‘I’ll be fine, Cade. Don’t worry. I’ll spend the night going over the scene and...’

  ‘You know what you need, lady? You need to relax. And I know the way to get you unwound.’

  She tossed him a sharp glance and he chuckled softly.

  ‘For shame,’ he murmured, taking her hand in his. ‘Whatever are you thinking?’

  She tugged her hand free. ‘Look,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m exhausted. I don’t have the time or the energy for any verbal skirmishes. I’m going home to work on my role.’

  ‘That’s a mistake. You need to let go for a while.’

  ‘I know what I need, Cade. I should after all these years.’

  Right. You’re the pro and I’m the novice. OK, maybe that’s true, but I’ve been performing more than half my life. I know something about stage fright.’

  ‘For God’s sake, I haven’t got stage fright! I just need to put in some more time with this script.’

  ‘Wrong, Padgett. You need time away from it. Trust me.’ He pushed open the door to the street. ‘Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere, breathe fresh air, and forget about scripts for a while?’

  ‘Sure,’ she admitted with a sigh. ‘But I can’t. I have work to do. Goodbye, Cade. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘All right, all right, you win. I’ll ride you home and leave you to your work. Come on, don’t look at me like that. You know darned well I can deliver you to your doorstep in half the time it would take to get there any other way.’

  Well, he had her there, she thought, eyeing the big motorcycle parked at the curb. The bike was fast and she knew Cade could maneuver it easily through the crowded streets, taking quick advantage of every hole in the traffic.

  ‘All right,’ she said finally. ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘I know I am,’ he said, handing her a helmet. ‘Just trust me, okay?. 1 know what I’m doing.’

  ***

  ‘Trust me, you said. I know what I’m doing, you said,’ Shannon slid from the Harley as it came to a stop. ‘Where in hell are we?’ she demanded. ‘Damn it, you...you kidnapped me! And why didn’t you stop when I told you to?’

  Grinning lazily, Cade eased himself off the bike and pushed his visor up. ‘One question at a time, Padgett. . We’re at Jones Beach. Don’t tell me you’ve never been here before. It’s onl
y thirty-something miles from the city.’

  ‘Spare me the geography lesson, please. Why didn’t you stop when I asked?’

  ‘I didn’t hear you,’ he said with wide-eyed innocence. ‘The engine noise must have drowned you out. Besides, you said you wanted to work, didn’t you? Well, this is the perfect place.’

  ‘Sure it is. Just you and me and the seagulls. Look, you’ve had your little joke. Take me back to the city, OK?’

  ‘Where’s your spirit of adventure, woman? Just smell that ocean breeze. And wait until you feel the sand be­tween your toes.’

  ‘I want to feel my living-room carpet between my toes, Cade. And I want to smell the coffee brewing in my percolator.’

  ‘What a terrific idea,’ he said, taking her hand in his. ‘Coffee and cake... ’

  ‘Cade...’

  ‘And the world’s greatest chowder. Well, maybe not the greatest, but...’

  ‘Will you listen?’

  ‘You’ve got a choice, Padgett. Chowder and coffee and a walk on the beach and in an hour I’ll take you back to New York and deliver you, safe and sound, at your apartment.’

  She looked at him warily. ‘Or?’

  ‘No chowder, no coffee, no walk and you can make it back to the city on your own. It’s only five miles or so to the main road. You can probably hitch a ride once you get there.’

  ‘Kidnapping and now blackmail,’ she said in tones as chilled as the salt-laden breeze blowing in from the ocean.

  ‘Just a little persuasion.’ Cade tucked her hand inside his, completely ignoring her attempts to pull free. ‘Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the afternoon?’

  ‘Enjoy being dragged off to some... some posh res­taurant that caters to the idle rich?’ she sputtered as he hurried her on to the promenade. ‘What’s so funny, Mr. Morgan? Who else could afford to come all the way out to a beach for lunch in November...’ Her angry words faded as Cade hustled her inside a large, rather barren room.

  ‘What is this?’ she demanded. ‘It looks like a cafeteria.’

  ‘Great deduction, Padgett. It is a cafeteria. And it’s not polite to stare. You don’t want to make all these idle rich folks uncomfortable. Do you want French fries with your chowder?’

  ‘French... ? No, no French fries.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Cade, everybody here must be over seventy.’

  ‘Yup. I first drifted into this place about three years ago when I did a concert at the outdoor theatre here on the Bay. It turns out that senior citizens flock here diving the off-season.’ He tilted his head towards hers and winked. ‘They’re a nice bunch, but not exactly fans of mine.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s one of life’s tragedies, Cade, but...’

  He sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘Jesus, woman, you can be dense! No one ever recognizes me here, don’t you understand? These people probably never even heard of the Marauders, so unless I showed up in black tie with an entire symphony orchestra trailing after me, nobody would look at me twice. I can walk along the beach and stop here for chowder and... Look, why don’t you grab that table near the window while I get our lunch?’

  She watched as Cade moved from counter to counter, accumulating paper cups and dishes on his tray. Her stomach rumbled at the faint smell of coffee that hung in the air.

  The truth was that she was starved, but she wasn’t about to let him know it.

  The nerve of the man, riding away with her as if he were a highwayman! She’d screamed at him to turn back, but by then they were starting across the 59th Street Bridge and the sounds of the wind and the Harley and the road all conspired against her. She’d tried, of course, leaning into Cade’s back until she was plastered to him, her mouth almost against his ear, her arms clutching at the hard muscles of his abdomen...

  ‘You see? Just five minutes at the beach, and there’s a glow in your cheeks,’ he said triumphantly, setting the tray down on the table. ‘Almost a blush.’

  ‘One hour, Cade,’ she said quietly. ‘One hour, and then I expect you to take me back to the city.’

  ‘Just dig in. I got you some French fries, just in case you change your mind.’

  ‘I won’t. I never eat greasy things. And what’s that?’ she asked, poking at a plastic-wrapped square of darkish cake. ‘A brownie?’ Her voice rose in disbelief. ‘Only a true junk-food junkie would eat something like that. It’s pure sugar.’

  ‘Hey, I’m the gourmet of roadside diners. Someday, I’m gonna give them ratings. One star to four, only I’ll use antacid tablets instead of stars. Are you going to eat your chowder or do I have to spoon it into you?’

  ‘I never eat lunch. I have to watch my weight.’

  ‘I’ll watch it for you. Eat.’

  ‘Anyway, I don’t like chowder.’

  ‘Don’t like chowder?’ He stared at her as if she’d spoken heresy. ‘How can anybody not like chowder?’

  ‘It’s easy,’ she said, and then she sighed in defeat. ‘OK, one mouthful, just to shut you up.’ Quickly, she spooned some of the soup into her mouth and swal­lowed it. ‘But I’m telling you I don’t...’ A surprised look settled on her face at the sudden taste of the sea and she eyed the bowl warily. ‘Well, I’ll admit, that’s not bad…’

  ‘Eat,’ Cade ordered.

  Her stomach growled in agreement. With a resigned sigh, she began to eat her soup. It was warm and soothing, and almost immediately she felt the tension begin to slip away.

  Maybe Cade had been right, she thought grudgingly, glancing at him from under her lashes. After all, she hadn’t had a thing since coffee break, and not then, either, she remembered suddenly. She’d been busy with a costume fitting. And the soup really was good. It was thick with clams and potatoes and chunks of tomatoes...

  ‘Did you say I could have a few of those French fries?’ she asked politely.

  Cade grinned. Shannon grinned in return.

  ‘OK, I give up. The chow­der’s good and I love ries. The greasier the better.’

  He leaned back in his chair and nodded his head. ‘Yeah, I thought so,’ he said with a smile. ‘You look like a greasy French-fry type.’

  Shannon popped a fry into her mouth.

  ‘Meaning what—or don’t I want to know?’

  ‘It means you look like the kind of woman a man can relax with. It means what you really want is to take your shoes off and walk along the sand with me. It means... ’

  ‘It means I really want that brownie, too,’ she laughed. ‘Especially if it’s got fudge icing.’

  ‘That is truly decadent,’ Cade declared solemnly, handing the cake to her.

  She was groaning by the time they’d finished eating.

  ‘I’ll never be able to fit into any of my costumes to­morrow,’ she said as they strolled barefoot through the sand. ‘Actually, I may not have anything to worry about. I could be out of a job by then.’

  Cade took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

  ‘Jerry was just pissed at how the day went. Tomorrow will be fine. You’ll see.’

  ‘I want it to be fine, Cade. That’s why I’ve got to get home and get to work. I admit, this was fun, but...’

  ‘Fun? Fun? Is that what you think this is, Miss Padgett?’ Cade swung to face her. ‘ This is a workshop exercise. Eli would approve.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, smiling at him.

  ‘Do I detect a note of doubt in your voice? Eli en­courages his students to get inside their characters, doesn’t he? Identify with them?’

  ‘Well, yes, but...’

  ‘So we’re identifying. I'm the old-fashioned sort, you see. I thought it would be a good idea if we got to know each other a little better before I take you to bed tomorrow. I tell you, this acting business is rough.’

  Shannon laughed softly. ‘I see. So this is strictly a working day, hmm?’

  ‘No, not strictly,’ he said with a quick grin. ‘It’s also therapeutic. And it’s working—you just laughed for the first time all week.’

 
‘Well, why wouldn’t I? This is a nice place.’

  ‘Nice? White bread is nice, Padgett. Scrambled eggs are nice. A record that can’t quite make it to the top of the charts is nice.’

  ‘All right, it’s beautiful,’ she laughed. ‘Is that better?’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘Damned right it’s beautiful. You had me worried there for a minute. Here I bring you all the way out to one of my favorite places in the world and... Hey, I’ve got a great idea! Did you ever build sand-castles when you were a kid?’

  ‘Sand-castles? Cade, we’ve got to get back.’

  ‘God, the woman is impossible! Just answer the question, Padgett. Did you ever build sand-castles?’

  ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I never did.’

  Dropping to his knees, he pulled her down beside him. ‘I thought I had a disadvantaged childhood. Yours must have been worse.’

  ‘I grew up in Kansas,’ she said patiently, sitting back on her heels and watching him. ‘It’s a bit far from the beach.’

  ‘That’s right, I remember. With all those blushing female relatives. Well, where I come from, you learned to build sand-castles.’

  ‘It figures. What else would you do in California?’

  ‘California? I grew up in Newark, New Jersey. Right in the shadow of the Jersey Turnpike.’

  ‘But I read somewhere... Not true, huh?’

  ‘Not even close. But one summer my mother got me into a program for city kids and I spent a week at the New Jersey shore. The family that I stayed with had a house right on the beach. It was a terrific seven days! I learned to roast hot dogs over an open fire and swim... ’

  ‘And make sand-castles?’

  He grinned. ‘Not just sand-castles. Sand extrava­ganzas. Want to learn?’

  ‘Cade, I’ve really got to go back to the city.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Go on. I showed you which way to go.’

  He ducked as she flung a handful of sand at him. ‘I’ll ignore that act of violence for the time being, Padgett. Pay attention, now. All you need is something to carry water—this cup will be fine—and a little imagination. And then, you pick the perfect spot—right about here should do it. We’ll have to make strong fortifications, though. I get the feeling that a really big wave washes up here once in a while.’