Hollywood Blackmail

by Jackie Ashenden

  “Why didn’t you stay?” he asked before he could stop himself. “Why didn’t you talk to me before you left?”

  She tensed. “I thought I explained. I didn’t want you to find me.”

  “A note, Lizzie. That’s all you left. You don’t think I deserved a face-to-face chat?”

  “You would have stopped me. And I didn’t want you to.”

  “I might have gone with you, didn’t you ever think of that?”

  She eased away from him, shifting over to lean against the back of the couch instead, leaving a cold empty space where she’d been. “I thought we talked about this,” she said. “You wanted that fight scene job. Wanted to get into the industry. That’s not what I wanted and I couldn’t ask you to make that choice.”

  “I could have found a way to make it work.”

  Lizzie let out a long breath and picked up a cushion, holding it in her lap. “It wouldn’t have worked, Ash. You know it wouldn’t have. The movie industry consumes people. It consumed Mom. I didn’t want to have anything more to do with it.”

  A heavy silence fell.

  Then he couldn’t be silent anymore. “If you’d wanted to be with me enough, we could have made it.”

  She didn’t look at him, her gaze on the cushion she held like a shield in front of her. “Do we really have to talk about this now?”

  “You promised me answers.”

  “Why? What does it matter?”

  “Because it’s a question I’ve been wanting to know the answer to for a long time and now that you’re here, I want to hear it.”

  She was silent, still staring down at the cushion, her whole posture tense.

  But then, he knew the answer already, didn’t he? He’d known it for the past eleven years. “You didn’t want it to work, did you?” he answered for her. “You didn’t want me enough to try.”

  For a long moment he didn’t think she’d reply. Then she said, her voice hoarse, “I was afraid. The day after the episode screened and the press were crazy, I tried to get in touch with my father but he didn’t want to see me.”

  “Your dad?” He frowned. “But I thought he left before you were born?”

  “He did. Mom met him just as her career was starting to take off. He didn’t like what she was doing but she wanted the attention. Liked being famous. So she ignored him. I found out who he was and…” She paused, then cleared her throat. “He didn’t want to see me. I told him I had nothing to do with Mom’s show but obviously he didn’t believe me. He told me he’d made his decision years ago.”

  Ash didn’t say anything, watching her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her, but the tension coming from her held him still. “It hurt,” she said after a moment. “To Mom I was just some kind of accessory, an experiment she decided she wanted to try. A pain in the ass when I got in the way of her career. And Dad… He didn’t want me at all.” She took a breath. “There was nothing for me at the mansion. Nothing but more of the same. I was useful to Mom when I was part of the show but ignored when I wasn’t. It was just so…lonely. And I wanted more than that. I wanted to feel I made a difference to someone. So…I left. “

  “I wish you could have talked to me, Lizzie.”

  Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes dark in the dim light of the cinema. “I didn’t want to talk to you. I didn’t want you to try to get me to stay. You had different dreams from mine and I…couldn’t compromise mine for yours.”

  It still hurt, even though he knew why she’d gone, why she thought she’d had no option. “I told you I loved you back then. Well, I did. I would have done anything for you. To make what we had work.”

  The look in her eyes flickered, sharp pain in them. “I’m sorry, Ash,” she said.

  “I was so angry when I got that note,” he went on, because he had to say it. “I tore it up into a thousand pieces. You wanted me to respect your privacy, so I did. I told myself you could go to hell and stay there. I wasn’t coming for you.” He paused. “But I never forgot you. Never ever.”

  Lizzie blinked, the sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated again. “I’m…just so sorry.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her now, pulling away the cushion and hauling her into his arms, kissing her mouth, her jaw. “I swore I wasn’t going to let you ruin my life,” he murmured, lips brushing the side of her throat. “I told myself I was going to be a success. The biggest damn success the world had ever seen. So that there would be billboards everywhere with me on them. In the papers. In the magazines. In the theaters. Everywhere. So I would be everywhere you looked. So you’d never escape me.”

  She shivered. “Ash…”

  “I didn’t want you to ever forget me. Just like I never forgot about you.”

  “I never forgot.” Her voice sounded rusty and thick. “I went to every one of your movies. Read every article I could get my hands on. I…missed you.”

  A deep, savage satisfaction turned over inside him at that. Good, he was glad she’d missed him. Glad she’d thought about him. “And did you ever regret leaving me?”

  Her palms pressed hard against his chest, holding her away a little. “No,” she said and this time she didn’t look away. “I don’t regret it. It was the right decision for me at the time. I couldn’t have given you what you wanted anyway. And if I hadn’t left….” She didn’t finish the sentence but then he knew what she didn’t say.

  If she hadn’t left he perhaps wouldn’t be where he was now.

  …

  Lizzie pressed her palms against his chest. She felt torn open. Vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been, even naked in his arms. She hated the pain in his eyes and hated that she’d caused it.

  Yes, she’d left him. He’d loved her but still she’d run, because she’d been scared that when it came to the choice between her and his dreams, his choice wouldn’t have been her.

  And right then, after her father’s rejection, a rejection from Ash would have been too much.

  Even now, even after what he’d told her, she still didn’t believe he would have chosen her. Which meant the only thing she could do was to keep moving forward. Keep moving away

  “So,” she said when he didn’t say anything. “Where do we go from here?”

  Something glinted in his eyes, a spark of anger. Then it was gone. “I’m not going back to not touching you. Not after this.” His arms tightened around her. “You’re here for two weeks so that’s what I want. You and I together in every possible way.”

  Her heart shuddered in her chest, foreboding winding through her. Could she do that? Then again, how could she refuse? She’d had a taste of him, a reminder of how they’d been together, and going back to having nothing again was…God, too bleak to contemplate.

  It will hurt when you have to leave.

  Yes, it would. But if that was the price she paid for having two weeks of him, then she’d pay it. She had to have something to take with her when she went back to her own life again.

  “Okay,” she said huskily. “Two weeks.”

  He slid his hands beneath the shirt she wore, sliding them over her bare butt and gripping her gently, pulling her right up close. Desire began to rise again, making her breathless, making her ache. She flexed her fingers against the warm, brown skin of his chest in a light caress.

  “Good. And I want this,” he murmured. “You in my bed.”

  As if she’d say no. “Okay.”

  His hands slipped lower, stroking the backs of her thighs, the tips of his fingers sliding between to lightly brush the slick folds of her sex. She shivered, her stance altering, leaning in a little to give him better access.

  “No more distance, Lizzie,” he said softly. “Not again.” He changed his hold, one hand settling in the small of her back, holding her hard against his groin, while he let the other roam. Up under the shirt she wore, over the curve of her hip, the trembling plane of her stomach, up to cup the heavy softness of her breast.

  “Yes.” She co
uld barely get the word out.

  But obviously that wasn’t satisfying to him because he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching her gently, and yet with enough force that pleasure was a lightning strike through her body. “Say it.”

  “N-no distance,” she gasped. “I promise.”

  “Look at me and say it.” Another pinch.

  She obeyed, meeting his eyes. “No distance, Ash. I promise.”

  “Good. Because I won’t let you shut me out. If you want this, want me touching you, me inside you, then it’s all or nothing.”

  Of course it would be. Ash had never done half measures, not in any way.

  She drew in a ragged breath. “Yes.” Her hands moved on his chest, stroking him, heat spiraling through her veins. The subtle press of his hips against hers making her ache, the dampness between her thighs becoming slick. “But after the two weeks is up, I leave.”

  Desire glittered in his eyes. “Leave?”

  “When your treatment is up, that’s the end. We don’t see each other after that.”

  Will you even be able to leave?

  But she pushed the thought out of her head. She couldn’t stay with him. She’d fought for too long for her anonymity to give it all up for life in the full glare of the Hollywood spotlight, and she couldn’t do it. Not even for him.

  “Sure,” he said, the edge of roughness creeping into his voice. “When you’re gone, it’s over.” Gently he eased her away and she watched as he reached over the side of the couch to where his wallet lay on the floor, extracting another condom, ripping open the packet and protecting himself.

  Then he sat back on the couch. “I want to do it my way now. You okay with that?”

  Excitement crowded in her throat. “Yes,” she croaked.

  “Come here, then, and get in my lap.”

  Lizzie trembled as she did as she was told, sliding into his lap, facing him, her knees spread wide.

  “Put me inside you, sugar,” he said roughly. “And do it now.”

  She reached down, wrapped her fingers around the hard length of him, and guided him inside her, sliding down onto him, gasping at the intense pressure of him inside her. God, she’d never get over wanting this. Never.

  He swore softly, his hands tightening convulsively on her hips, holding her still. “You’re blowing my goddamn mind, Coco.”

  “Ash…” She put her hands on him, stroking his chest, her hips straining to move.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice ragged. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

  She obeyed. Without hesitation. He released her hips, raising his hand to the buttons of the shirt, pulling them open so he could see her. Then he slid his arms around her and gathered her close. So they were skin to skin.

  Then he moved, deep and slow, and she put her arms around his neck, dipping her head to kiss him. Hesitant at first, then hungrier. Feverish. Becoming more intense as he moved harder, faster.

  Ash’s hands slid up her back, holding on to her, keeping her tight against him, keeping her close.

  Never leave him.

  Only at the last minute did he break the kiss, watching as her climax hit, a cry breaking from her. “You’re mine, Coco,” he whispered as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

  And one thing became very clear.

  He was probably going to break her heart all over again.

  Chapter Nine

  Ash put the phone down after he’d finished his conversation with Sam then pushed himself out of his black leather designer chair and ran a restless hand through his hair.

  He walked to the windows that lined his office, the same view as from the pool. Of LA glittering in the sun. He frowned at the view, for once not feeling the usual kind of satisfaction he normally felt when he looked at it. Now he just felt kind of…

  Actually, he didn’t know what. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Looking at the view was supposed to all be part of the triumph. His journey from the projects to the glorious heights of Beverly Hills. But it didn’t feel so triumphant now.

  I didn’t want you to ever forget me…

  Ash passed a hand over his face, wincing as he pressed a little too hard on his scar. He couldn’t keep his thoughts from that night a couple of days ago now, where he’d held Lizzie in his arms and bled out his soul to her, for reasons he couldn’t have explained even to himself. Probably because if he was going to demand no distance from her, then reciprocating was only fair.

  But still. He hadn’t meant to tell her about the vow he’d made to himself the day he’d found her note, the note he’d ripped into a thousand tiny pieces, that he’d make it so he’d be everywhere. That she’d never be able to escape him again.

  Years later that vow had felt stupid and childish. It still kind of did. But the feeling inside him remained the same. Anger. A low-level hum that kept playing in the background of everything he did. An anger fueled by his father’s selfishness and his own frustration at not being able to do anything about it. Anger at Lizzie for leaving, for depriving him of the one good thing in his life.

  A movement a near the door caught his eye and he looked up to find Lizzie leaning against the doorframe. She wore her green-and-white sundress today, the light coming through the windows highlighting the red glow of her hair. She smiled at him and an odd tight feeling caught hard under his breastbone. He’d been getting lots of those beautiful, free smiles lately and he had to say, he liked them. But this feeling was familiar somehow. And not entirely welcome.

  You don’t want to let her go…

  Stupid. He had to let her go, didn’t he? Because she didn’t want to stay. Besides, why did he keep wanting to protest anyway? Nothing had changed between them. They still wanted different things and he had no right to keep her. At the end of the next week they’d say good-bye and that would be it. He wasn’t disappointed by that thought, not in the slightest.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Can’t live without me?”

  “As if. I just wondered if you wanted to watch a movie with me.”

  “Not if it’s one of mine.”

  The previous evening Lizzie had insisted they watch one of his movies, his first breakout hit. He never watched his own movies as a rule—once they were done they were done and he was happy to see the back of them. But he had to admit it had been good to sit there with her in his lap, obviously enjoying the movie. Telling him she loved watching him fight because he was so graceful. Like a freaking dancer, she’d likened him to, which was cringe-making and yet kind of flattering at the same time.

  A smile flickered around her mouth. “Oh, really? I loved seeing Back for More. I was hoping we might watch Acid Rain.”

  That had been a failed foray into sci-fi and one of his few flops. He’d gotten some good critical reviews but the fans hadn’t liked it one bit. “God no, not that one.”

  “Why not that one?”

  “Everyone hated it.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Too much acting, not enough shooting.”

  “I see. But you’re a good actor,” Lizzie said. “You know that, right?”

  Ash looked down at his desk, the weird feeling in his gut redoubling. “Yeah, of course I know that.”

  “So…everything’s fine then? With the Red River audition?”

  “Yeah, just got off the phone with Sam. I’m getting the script in a couple of days.”

  That should have been one hell of a thrill. His first non-action movie script. A part he could really prove himself in. Prove he had acting skills, not just punching and kicking skills. But he found he had to dig deep just to muster up some enthusiasm.

  “That’s great.” A crease appeared between her brows. “Isn’t it?”

  It should be. So why didn’t it feel like it was? He tried to push the feeling away. “Definitely is. Oh, and I’ve got a premiere coming up in another week. For Arctic. My publicist was hoping to get Katie Hamilton on board as my date. To, you know, help with m
y image. Apparently her people are into the idea, too.”

  An expression he couldn’t interpret crossed Lizzie’s face. “Oh. So why exactly is bringing her going to help your image?”

  “She’s a good girl. Wholesome. Shit like that. Sam seems to think it’ll prove to the world at large and Christiansen in particular that I’m a good boy.”

  The crease between her brows deepened. “Do you want to go with her?

  Ash let out a breath. “Not really. But hey, I don’t care all that much. I’ll go along with her and the press will make up some shit that we’re together. That might be good for the image as well.”

  She frowned. “But…you wouldn’t really be seeing her, are you?”

  “What? Katie? No way. She’s not my type.”

  “And she’d be aware of this, I take it?”

  “We all play the game, sugar. Katie, too. “

  “Sounds awfully political.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Welcome to Hollywood.”

  “Well… I still don’t see why this Christiansen guy is so worried about your reputation.”

  “Who knows? All directors have their foibles.”

  “I thought any publicity was good publicity.”

  Ash folded his arms, studying her face. “What’s got you annoyed?”

  Lizzie didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she pushed herself away from the doorframe, coming over to his desk. “I just think you should be judged on your acting skills, not on your reputation. It’s your acting you see on the screen, after all.”

  “Not according to some people. If an actor has too big a rep, that’s all people see onscreen. They can’t divorce the actor from the character. And that’s not good for box office sales.”

  “But that’s not you, Ash.”

  “Isn’t it me? All that they say about me is true.” It was. The fights he got in. The parties he’d thrown. The cars he’d crashed and the women he’d slept with. All of it was true. He’d denied himself nothing because he’d felt he’d earned the right. “I did all those things.”

  Slowly she came around the desk to him, engulfing him in a sweet wave of scent that was all her. Part laundry powder, part jasmine body lotion she put on after a shower, and part that unique smell that was all Lizzie. Automatically he reached for her, pulling her in close, settling her against him. “Don’t go thinking I’m a good boy,” he murmured. “I’m not.”