The hot coal in his chest burned bright. “What do you mean it’s not a good idea?”
“I mean perhaps we should call it quits right now.”
Now? But he wasn’t ready now. He took a step toward her. “You promised me two weeks.”
“I didn’t promise you anything. In fact the only thing I promised you was that this affair was going to end once your treatment had finished.”
“Yeah, that’s right. And it hasn’t finished yet.”
She stared at him. “Not for you, maybe. But for me it has. As of now, I’m quitting as your nurse.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“You heard me. I quit. I’ll organize someone else to finish up your treatment. And as for the blackmail, well…I guess I’ll soon find out how much of a douche you really are when Helen calls me into her office.”
The anger flared, burning bright. He wasn’t ready to give her up, not yet.
Ash pushed himself away from the counter, coming around the breakfast bar after her “No. It has to be you, sugar. I don’t want anyone else.”
She didn’t back away from him, just watched him come. “But we can’t always get what we want, Ash Kincaid,” she said quietly. “Maybe it’s time you learned that.”
“Lizzie.”
But she was turning around, walking away from him. “It’s over. I’m done. You can sleep on the couch for the rest of the night.”
He took a step toward her, ready to go after her, every muscle in his body all set to leap into action. “So that’s it? It’s over? Not even a good-bye? Again?”
She stopped but didn’t turn round. “What more do you want?”
“I…” He stopped, because he couldn’t think of what more he wanted. She didn’t want to give up her life for him and he didn’t want to give up his for her.
You did once…
Yeah. Once. But she’d never asked him to and now that time had passed.
Lizzie stood there a long moment, looking like she was waiting for him to say something. But when he didn’t, her shoulders went back and she said, “Good-bye, Ash.”
And this time he didn’t stop her. He let her walk away.
…
It really shouldn’t have been as painful as it was. It should have involved a touch of bittersweet regret maybe, but that’s all. It definitely shouldn’t have felt like someone had attempted open-heart surgery on her chest. Without an anesthetic.
Lizzie lay back down on the bed and when she heard the door to her apartment slam shut, she closed her eyes.
So he was gone. Now it was over. And that was probably all for the best.
No, it’s not. You wanted more.
She curled her arms around the empty, hollow feeling in her chest. Okay, so yes, she had wanted more. Back down on the beach, in his arms, she’d thought that perhaps they could figure it out. Find some sort of compromise so they could continue to see each other. It looked impossible, but perhaps they could have worked something out.
But there would be no compromise. He wanted her to give up everything for him. And the really crazy thing was, for a moment there, in the darkness of the kitchen, staring up into his face, she’d wanted to. Thought that perhaps she could do it, to take a leap into the unknown with him. Be strong enough to see what life with him would be like.
Yet all he’d offered in return had been “let’s see how it goes.”
She had to have more than that. God, she was worth more than that. Wasn’t she?
Lizzie turned her face into the pillow, tears prickling behind her eyes. Don’t cry, you idiot. No, God. How could she cry over a one-week affair? Over what was essentially hot sex and a few nice conversations? She shouldn’t, that’s what. She needed to put it behind her, get on with her life.
She screwed her eyes shut tighter. Sleep, that’s what she needed. In the morning she’d feel better. Because now she wasn’t going back to Ash’s place and she wouldn’t need to worry about the press anymore. About being found out. Her nice, quiet, normal little life was safe.
And that was better. That was much better.
…
“There you are, Mr. Kincaid. All done.” The makeup artist stepped away from the mirror, allowing Ash to finally get a glimpse of himself now that she’d finished. The scar was virtually unnoticeable. Over the past couple of weeks the redness had gradually faded until it was just a line across his face. Now, thanks to the magic of the stage makeup the artist had put on him, it had gone entirely.
He looked like his old self. Just as he always did.
Pity his old self felt like shit.
“Thanks,” he said curtly. “You can go now.”
Yeah, he was graceless and grumpy, but right now he didn’t much care. The Arctic premiere was in an hour or so and he wanted to go about as much as he wanted an internal medical examination.
The makeup artist withdrew, leaving him alone in his bedroom. He scowled at himself at the mirror, tugging on the collar of his tux. Man, he hated this crap. Dressing up like a freaking peacock. He should be used it by now, but he’d never quite managed to feel comfortable wearing a tux.
He scowled harder at his reflection, then turned away.
He was going to the opening night of his new blockbuster, a movie that was going to make him yet more millions. There would be photographers and fans and thousands of people gathered outside the theater hoping for a glimpse of him. There would be cheers and shouts, everyone clamoring for his attention. Katie Hamilton would be on his arm and the Christiansen audition in the bag. And afterward there would be the huge party that his people had organized. The invites had been scarce and anyone who was anyone had been desperate to get one. He and Katie would dance together and maybe there would even be a strategically arranged kiss for the press. A headline for the papers the next morning.
Hollywood Bad Boy Tamed! Katie Gets Her Guy!
Every part of him stiffened in instinctive negation, which was just downright ridiculous because it wasn’t even real, for Christ’s sake. But even the thought of having her as a fake girlfriend felt…wrong.
Ash stalked over to the windows, looking toward the view of LA glittering like a scatter of broken glass in the sun. Normally he liked this view, the evidence of his success. But tonight the view made him feel kind of empty. Like a fake city set, all appearance with nothing real behind it.
Which was kind of a metaphor for his whole life, really. Appearance without substance.
Unlike Lizzie.
His jaw tightened. The whole week he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her even though he’d tried his damnedest. Wondering where she was and what she was doing. The nurse the clinic had sent in her place had been nice enough, and she’d kept her mouth shut, too, which was a bonus. But she wasn’t Lizzie. She didn’t have those glowing red highlights in her hair, or gray eyes the color of a rainy sky. Or a cool wit or a passionate nature.
There was only one Lizzie. Unlike him, she was all substance. Unselfish and generous, her whole life was all about her desire to help other people.
Ah, crap. He missed her. He missed her so much. But he’d made the right decision when he’d left that night. Letting her go. Keeping her safe.
Tell yourself it’s about keeping her safe all you want. You’re in love with her. You’ve always been in love with her. You’re just too damn scared to admit it.
Ash swallowed, those old, familiar feelings rising up and choking him. The terrible, powerless feeling he’d had after she’d gone. Anger that he hadn’t been enough to make her stay. Fear that she’d taken something with her he’d never be able to get back.
Well, she had, hadn’t she? She’d taken his heart. And she still had it.
Ash put a hand on the glass, the weight of knowledge sitting heavy inside him. He had everything he’d ever dreamed of all those years ago. Had money. Had respect. Importance. Power. Control over his life. Yet, right in this moment, all those things, all the things he’d always dreamed of, felt like smoke. A
mirage. Meaningless.
Because the only thing you truly wanted was her.
His breath caught.
Because he could have her, too, if he wanted. All he had to do was give up everything that had given his life meaning up until now. Do what he’d told her he would have done all those years ago.
Fear gripped him. The kind of fear he’d never felt before.
Ash put his arm on the glass and leaned his forehead against it.
Could he do it? Could he throw all of that away if it meant a chance of being with her? Back in her apartment, he hadn’t even been able to contemplate it.
You just want everything from me while giving nothing of yourself in return.
But, shit. What else did he have to give her? Ash Kincaid, movie star, had everything. And if he wasn’t that anymore, all he’d be was Ashford Hernandez, part-time security guard. Who had nothing.
But then Lizzie had never seen him that way, had she? She’d never wanted the movie star, she’d wanted the man. For some inexplicable reason, she wanted the lousy, selfish, crappy kind of man he was behind the movie star front.
A knock sounded on the door. “Mr. Kincaid?” It was Carla. “The limo is here.”
Slowly, Ash pushed himself away from the window. He turned and went to the bedroom door, pulled it open. Made his way down the stairs and outside into the driveway.
The limo was there, waiting for him, and he couldn’t see inside the tinted windows but he knew Katie Hamilton would be inside. A fake date for a fake evening.
But he didn’t want a fake date. He wanted substance. He wanted meaning.
He wanted Lizzie any way he could get her.
And he couldn’t have that as Ash Kincaid, movie star.
Abruptly Ash pulled off his bow tie, threw it over his shoulder, then turned away from the limo and headed instead for the garage.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry, Stacey, but we can’t have that kind of thing going on. Not after what happened last week. I’m afraid you’re fired. Effective immediately.”
Lizzie, in the process of returning a magazine she’d borrowed from the reception area, frowned as the receptionist—the brand-new one they’d only just hired—burst into tears and ran out. Colt had his arms folded across his broad chest, a stern look on his handsome face.
“What was all that about?” Lizzie asked him, dropping the magazine back on a nearby table.
There wasn’t anyone else in the waiting room, but it wasn’t usually the place to randomly fire employees.
“I caught her texting a picture of a patient to a friend of hers.” Colt frowned in the direction the receptionist had fled. “That soap star, Kelly-Ann whatshername. Anything like that is now grounds for instant dismissal.”
Yes, well, after what had happened with the file leak last week, that was understandable. Seacliffe couldn’t afford to have anything like that happen again. Already patient numbers were down, confidence in the clinic’s privacy at an all-time low. Things had not improved much either since Lizzie had come back.
“In a public waiting room, though, Colt?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Helen warned all the staff. I’m just protecting the clinic.”
Why was it that “protection” always seemed to end in tears? Not that she was upset anymore. Not in the slightest.
“I don’t suppose we have a replacement then?” she inquired.
Colt’s frown deepened. “Not as such. Leave it to me, I’ll deal with it.”
“Not to mention letting Helen know.”
“That, too.” He strode off down the corridor, muttering under his breath.
Lizzie wandered after him. She had plenty of work to do but for some reason she really didn’t feel like doing any of it. Actually, she hadn’t felt like doing any of it all week, which was unusual for her.
As she passed by the open door of the staff room, she caught a glimpse of the TV screen. Looked like it had been tuned to an entertainment channel, some stick-thin woman with a microphone talking excitedly and surrounded by a heaving crowd of people. At the bottom of the screen were the words “Arctic premiere…”
Lizzie stopped dead, her heart twisting. Oh, tonight was the night, wasn’t it? Ash’s movie premiere. When he’d walk the red carpet with the lovely Katie Hamilton. Well, she certainly didn’t want to see that, did she? Nope. Uh-uh. She had lots of work to do. Lots and lots of work.
The TV camera was panning around at the crowds, commentary from stick TV woman about how fashionably late Ash Kincaid was. Then the camera zeroed in to where a limo had only just pulled up, people beginning to cheer.
Lizzie’s whole body tensed. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to see that tall, powerful figure get out of the car. Didn’t want to see that wicked smile or those brooding bad-boy dark eyes. Didn’t want to see his magnetic, charismatic presence.
Her hands gripped the doorframe. Work. She had it. To do. And stuff.
The limo door opened and a tall, willowy figure got out. Amazing dress, stick TV woman cooed.
Lizzie’s heart went still.
But no one else got out of the limo. A ripple of puzzlement went through the crowd. Where was the man of the hour? Where was Ash?
Reporters converged on the tall willowy figure in the amazing dress—Katie Hamilton. She was smiling. Mr. Kincaid would be there soon, apparently. “He had to stop and get some milk,” Ms. Hamilton joked. There was much appreciative and sycophantic laughter.
Lizzie’s heart restarted. Right, so he was late to his own premiere. What did she care? Why was she still standing here? Thank God he hadn’t arrived. Thank God she didn’t have to put up with watching him parade down that stupid carpet with that stupid woman!
Imagine what it would be like if it had been her there with him. Not Katie whatshername. Her hand on his arm, his strength beside her. Being with him in front of all those cameras…
You couldn’t do it. You’re too damn scared.
Dragging her gaze from the TV, Lizzie turned back to the hallway. Definitely it was time to go and do some work. Get back to what was really important.
The sound of someone murmuring in surprise came from the waiting area behind her. A small feminine gasp. Instinctively she turned around to see what the problem was.
And then her heart stopped. Time stopped. Everything stopped.
Ash was not, apparently, getting milk. He was in the clinic’s reception area. He stood near the reception desk, a massive, powerful figure encased in a designer tux, his hair wild, dark eyes scanning the area like a soldier looking for hidden threats. One of the other nurses was behind the desk, staring at him in what looked like awe. They got a lot of stars at Seacliffe but Ash was one of the biggest.
Her poor, abused heart leaped like a startled rabbit, then began to beat hard and fast in her chest.
What the hell was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be at that premiere?
The thought had barely crossed her mind when those dark eyes suddenly locked onto her. And then every thought vanished entirely.
“Lizzie,” Ash said and he began to stride toward her, utterly ignoring the other clinic staff members who also happened to be in the hallway.
Every instinct she had told her to turn and walk away. But she wasn’t a coward. Whatever it was he had to say to her, she could handle it.
Folding her arms across her chest, she lifted her chin as he came closer. “What are you doing here?”
He stopped just in front of her, breathing fast. Then he ran a hand through his hair, moving restlessly on his feet. As if he was…nervous or something. Which was odd because a man like Ash, nervous? Surely not.
“I needed to see you,” he said after a moment.
“Don’t you have a premiere to go to?”
The look in his eyes flickered. “I should. But I’m not going to.”
She frowned, not understanding. “Isn’t that like a requirement or something?”
“Lizzie.” His hand dropped f
rom its restless scrubbing through his hair. “I don’t care about the premiere. I don’t give a shit about it. Or the movie. Or the Christiansen audition. Hell, I don’t care about my whole stupid, selfish career.” He took a heaving breath. “The only thing I care about is you.”
Shock slammed through her and for a minute she couldn’t breathe. Her fingers gripped her upper arms tightly as she fought to get the words out. “Great, thanks for the update. But I’ve got a few things to do so if you don’t mind—”
Ash reached out, large warm palms settling on her shoulders. “No, you don’t understand. You asked me why I couldn’t be the one to give up everything for you and I didn’t have a good answer for you. Well, now I do. I’m not going back. Not to the premiere, not to the Christiansen audition, not even back to Beverly Hills.”
Lizzie blinked, not quite understanding. “What do you mean you’re not going back?”
“I’m giving it up, Lizzie. I’m giving up the fame, the success. I’m giving up everything because I want to be with you.”
Nope, this still wasn’t making sense. None of it made any sense. “I don’t… Why, Ash? You told me you couldn’t give that up.”
“Well, I was wrong.” He took a breath as if bracing himself. “Because I discovered that I wanted you more than I wanted all the rest of that movie star bullshit. I’m in love with you. I always have been.”
Okay, so that was a little different.
“You love me,” she repeated blankly.
There was a fierce expression on his face, the intent look in his black eyes making her breath catch. “I’m an idiot. A selfish asshole. I should never have let you walk away that day in your apartment but I was just afraid.”
Her heart thundered in her chest, the warmth of his hands on her shoulders moving down her arms, creeping down her body. She tried to resist. Tried to be strong.
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Afraid of giving up my career. Giving up Hollywood. Of not being Ash Kincaid.” His gaze held hers. “Afraid of giving all that up and being Ashford Hernandez again.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “He wasn’t enough to keep you last time but…I really hope he’s enough to keep you at least a little while now.”
Hollywood Blackmail Page 17