by Summers, Jo
She believed in true love, in faithfulness and loyalty and sacrifice—all the things that saturated the romance in her novels.
Despite her awareness that life wasn’t a romance novel, Andi truly believed that every woman deserved those things from a worthy man.
Jared had given her every material thing she could ever want, even as he gradually but surely removed everything intangible that mattered to her. Their time in bed had been anything but special, but Jared made sure Andi knew that it was her fault, and blamed it on her lack of experience. The blame had sunk in and eaten away at her until sex with him had become something to be endured while she made up grocery lists and stories in her head.
But what about passion?
Was it possible to have all of the things she valued in a man, as well as passion?
Or was that fantasy, reserved for the characters in her books? If she was to continue writing, to continue giving her readers something to hope for, she needed to know; and Colin was a convenient way for her to find out.
“Here we are, my dear,” the driver called out loudly, causing Andi to jump. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts she must have missed a good portion of the ride to the set.
He grinned at her in the mirror. “Sorry miss,” he said before opening his door and coming around to get hers. He held out his elbow so she could lift herself over the muddy ground.
“Little soggy, I’m afraid. The land’s beautiful because of it, but the rain’s steady here. Mind your step, lass.”
Andi did a small jump over a muddy hole in the ground onto the closest thing she could find to dry grass. Once she had her footing, the driver released her arm, nodded at her, and headed back to his car to resume his normal duties.
As soon as he left her side, Andi looked out over the landscape and the view made her catch her breath. She’d seen pictures of the Scottish countryside before, and had used them, combined with descriptions from her collection of research books, to build the settings for her stories, but none of them did justice to what spread out before her in that moment.
Across endless rolling hills of the richest green she’d ever laid eyes on, she could see miles of gray ocean, blending almost seamlessly with the sky above. And the air was so clean, so sharply unlike the city stuff she was used to sucking down day after day in Dallas, that it almost stung as its pure crispness passed through her lungs.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” said a deep voice behind her.
“Holy crap,” she shouted, stumbling backward before catching herself, thankful she didn’t land ass-down in the mud. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Colin came around to stand before her, smiling, his white teeth shining against the bronze hue of his skin, which appeared to have been artificially enhanced since the night before.
“Either you spent last night fake baking after I left, or someone sprayed you down with some very potent stuff.”
They both glanced down at his arms and legs and then back up at each other.
Colin grinned, probably at the appreciative stare down Andi had given his body. “You don’t seem to hate it,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Well, I—”Andi shrugged her shoulders and held out a palm, buying time to work through the knots in her tongue”—It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Her mouth formed a tight line and Colin surveyed her, bringing back images of the night before. She felt warmth, deep in her belly, at the memory of his ridiculously hot naked form. Millions of women would give their life savings for the evening she’d had, even without sex.
His eyes turned serious. “I’m glad you came today. I thought maybe you wouldn’t.”
Andi looked down at her favorite purple boots, now coated in a thick layer of sodden dirt. She blinked up at Colin. “I can’t exactly ignore that flash drive that you found,” she said, both of them well aware that it wasn’t the reason she’d agreed to his request to meet again. “Every book I’ve ever written is on there.”
He leaned in close to her face, hands behind his back. She could smell his cologne, fresh rather than overpowering like a lot of men’s, mixed with the soap he’d smoothed over her body in the shower at his condo, and the chalky scent of theater makeup and bronzer. Her mouth went dry and she held her breath, eagerly anticipating whatever sexy comment he was about to make that would surely turn her legs to jelly once more.
“You know, Gorgeous,” he whispered in that delicious British accent, his soft breath curling around her ear, “they have these things called clouds now.” Colin leaned back without touching her, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Much more reliable for backing up your documents.”
Andi swallowed and narrowed her eyes, pulling herself out of the moment she’d so misjudged. “I know about clouds,” she said, annoyed with herself for being unable to hide the slightly pouty tone in her voice. “I just prefer something I can hold in my hands. Makes me feel much more secure. I have difficulty trusting things I can’t touch.”
“Really,” he said, leaning in again, this time softly brushing his lips against her cheek. “I do believe I’ll keep that in mind.”
After a few moments, Colin finally stopped teasing her enough to introduce Andi to the producer; she’d meant to say hello and give her heartfelt thanks for the trip and the weeklong stay in a lush hotel at the cast party the night before, until everything had taken a fast train straight to hell. Andi had never had any desire to be involved in the screenplay or the filming of her story, but she’d lucked out with a producer who understood her book and promised to portray it well. The producer had graciously offered Andi a read-through of the script, which she’d loved and enthusiastically approved, and since then they’d shared a very casual email relationship until the woman had invited Andi to come take a look at the set. Since it was the last week of filming, the cast and crew were in good spirits, relaxed, goofing off, and taking it easy, and Colin only had to work a few hours to reshoot a couple of scenes where the editor had located errors.
While Colin wrapped up, Andi had a chance to screen a few clips of the movie, and seeing him bring her fictional hero, Bjorn, to life, was an experience she wouldn’t soon forget. Onscreen, Colin gave a dead-on performance of the Viking who’d searched most of his adult life for the girl he’d loved as a child and lost, and it gave Andi chills to see him holding the actress who played Astrid, so close to his body. The passionate portrayal he gave while the camera rolled was, as far as Andi could tell, not very different from the lust she’d seen in his eyes the evening before.
Her gut clenched tight. She knew he only wanted a casual, sex-only relationship with her, and it was guaranteed by their circumstances to be short-lived, but what if even that was an act? What if—when he held her again, when she tried once more to release hold of her body and let him take over—it was all a game?
“Alright, Writer,” Colin said, joining her near a group of cameramen at the edge of the area used for a set. “I can’t take another minute of your mingling. Let’s get the hell out of here for the afternoon, shall we? Do some sightseeing? What do you think, Andi?” He set a hand on her elbow, tugging her gently to his side.
Andi happened to glance at the actress playing Astrid. What was with the stink eye? Andi smiled at the woman, who quickly looked away. A strange twinge of something she couldn’t put her finger on swept through Andi’s veins. I invented you, she thought silently, don’t get sassy on me. She looped her arm through the gorgeous man beside her and set her other hand on his forearm, putting the bitchy glare she’d just received out of her mind.
“Where to?” she asked, setting her shoulders back as she looked up at Colin.
“That, I can’t tell you,” he said. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
Right. When royalties grow on trees.
“Alright,” she said, “But first, hand over the flash drive.”
Colin smiled and reached down to fish the small pink piece of plastic out of his pocket. He dropped it into her open palm, cl
osing his large hand over hers, the heat from his skin seeping into her own. Maybe, just maybe, her lucky charm would work for her once more.
After Colin changed out of costume and washed up in his trailer, he took Andi to his motorcycle like he had the previous evening. But this time, without the crowds of photographers swarming, he took his time before hopping on, his hands lingering around her waist when he pulled her close. He placed the same helmet on her head again, but instead of buckling it quickly, stopped to kiss her slowly on the mouth, surprising the hell out of her. His lips tasted like salted caramel, and as he pulled away, he nibbled the flesh of her bottom lip, setting off a surge of lightning under her skin.
Just one kiss, and Andi could feel warm moisture between her legs. Surely sleeping with Colin would ease her hunger, and then maybe she could check out that online dating site that Lily had begged her to sign up for; she definitely couldn’t jump back into the sea of fish in her current state. She needed to be with a man who knew what he was doing, who could show her what she was missing and build the confidence she might have had if she’d never fallen into Jared’s dangerous web.
Twenty-six was too damn old to have spent so long sleeping with one crappy guy, and Colin was exactly the right type to help her get back in the saddle, so to speak. At that moment, Andi decided that no matter how scared she was, no matter how strong the fear threatened when the issue of sex came up again, she wasn’t going to back away from it this time. She would push through, no matter how terrified she might be of making a fool of herself, of doing all the wrong things. She refused to live her life afraid of something as inconsequential as sex.
And if she was honest, she also secretly hoped, deep down, that Colin could show her how to feel good in bed. She must have been with Jared hundreds of times, but it had never, ever been good for her; she’d always been left feeling hollowed out—empty—yet she still hoped, perhaps naively, that it wouldn’t always be that way. She hoped Colin could bring that part of her to life.
Chapter Seven
After driving from the set back into downtown Glasgow where they parked along Byres Road, Andi was sure her hair would look like a rat’s nest, but Colin didn’t say a word as he slipped his sunglasses into his shirt collar, then lifted the helmet off of her head. Andi reached up to smooth down any wayward strands, and caught Colin staring at her, hands in the pockets of the jeans he’d changed into back at the set.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“You have no idea how appealing you are, do you?”
Andi resisted the urge to deny his compliment, knowing it would make her look like a silly teenager rather than the strong woman hidden inside her. She wished that woman would show up more often—she could really use a pep talk right about now.
“Thank you,” she said simply, meeting his eyes.
Colin reached up and placed a finger under her chin, raising it for her. “It’s true,” he said.
Andi swallowed around the lump that rose in her throat.
“You need to start accepting that. I don’t know what happened at the condo last night,” he started, and Andi opened her mouth to explain but Colin held up a hand as if to tell her not to interrupt and she bit her bottom lip instead of speaking. “And I don’t need to know,” he continued. “But whatever it is, you have nothing to be shy about.”
He stopped speaking and pulled her close against him. “And, if you’ll let me try again, I’ll show you just how sexy I think you are.”
Andi didn’t say anything. She couldn’t have if she wanted to because her brain was thick with fog, the words swimming in chaos, out of reach. Astonishing how, just using her imagination and a little research, she could craft scene after scene of sexual tension and release in her books, but a single, forward comment from this man had the power to undo her completely. It was becoming harder and harder to separate reality from acting. That’s what this was, after all, wasn’t it? A two-person play starring Andi and Colin—happy new couple—tumbling toward a known ending as each day of the short week passed.
Colin released her from his grasp and when his arm trailed down hers, he grabbed her hand, squeezing her palm as he tugged her eagerly toward the endless upscale boutiques along the sidewalk. The city was beautiful with its Victorian architecture framed by mountains in the background. Tourists and locals enjoyed after-dinner coffee and dessert as they leisurely read newspapers and worked on laptops at outdoor café tables. A few people looked up as they passed, some giving Colin second glances despite his dark sunglasses, but for the most part, they walked along unnoticed, blending in as though he and Andi were just a normal couple out enjoying the cool evening.
The notion wasn’t half-bad.
“Where are we going?” she asked again, slightly nervous that the jeans and sweater she’d chosen might not be appropriate for their destination.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, glancing over at her, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with his grin.
They walked along holding hands and Andi was certain they’d be attacked by paparazzi, but then again, no press release had disclosed their plans like it probably had about the cast party at the hotel, so she breathed a sigh of relief, hoping they would have some uninterrupted time together.
She couldn’t imagine living her entire life with an audience like he did. No matter how her books grew in popularity, Andi would never have to face the challenges that Colin endured on a daily basis. Yeah, he had plenty of advantages. He was rich, for one, and could have just about anything or anyone under the sun that he desired, but at the high cost of his privacy. The thought of that kind of existence brought so many questions to mind.
“Colin?” she asked, and he stopped walking to give her his full attention, making her feel like she was the only woman on the planet. Jared had paid her plenty of attention, but not like this. Colin seemed to really want to hear what she had to say, rather than to break her apart. “Do you ever get tired of all this?”
His forehead knit as he looked at her. “All of what?”
“Just…all the fame. The people following you around with cameras and everything. Especially after what happened with your ex.”
His eyebrows knit together and he gave her a funny look.
Oops. She cringed and swallowed. “I…did a little research online…just to make sure you’re not, you know, a murderer or something.”
He nodded but didn’t speak for a moment; Andi could tell that he was measuring his words carefully. “I wanted this life,” he said finally, “and I got it. Anything that comes as a result is something I asked for when I took that first major movie offer.”
Andi waited for an explanation before realizing one wasn’t forthcoming. “That’s it?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, turning around to continue walking, his tone colder than she’d heard it since meeting him, as if her question had caused him to shut down, which of course only further increased her curiosity. How many regular people like her got the chance to spend time with a celebrity? She might even be able to use this experience in a book if she ever decided to write one with a contemporary setting. Colin still held her hand in his, so, despite his sudden change of mood, she had the gumption to probe a little further.
“But what about the paparazzi? What if you ever decide to have a family and they won’t leave you alone? How could you stand it?”
He kept walking for a few steps, staring straight ahead at the sidewalk toward their mystery endpoint until suddenly, he stopped and faced her, his eyes stormy and unreadable.
“That’s not something I have to worry about, seeing as how I’m not interested in marriage, and I won’t have a child without it.”
A flood of sadness came out of nowhere. What did she care whether or not he ever had a family?
Colin’s eyes had softened by the time Andi looked back up at him.
“It’s not that I don’t like kids—I do very much, actually—it’s just that I don’t see
them in my future.”
Andi shook her head as if to say it was none of her business, which it wasn’t. But for some inexplicable reason, the thought of Colin never having a child saddened her. “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have pried. I know how you feel, actually. I’m getting to the point where I’m not sure I’ll ever meet the right guy.”
Colin nodded and reached for her hand again. They kept walking.
“I do want a family, though,” she said, so quietly that she wasn’t sure he heard her.
After a few minutes, he turned and flashed Andi the grin that women across the globe adored, the storm clouds from a few minutes ago gone from his eyes. “Here we are,” he said, slowing his steps to a halt.
Andi looked over his shoulder as Colin held out an arm. The boutique behind him was definitely not what she’d expected. She squinted at him. “Are you sure this is where you meant to take me?”
“Absolutely,” he answered.
“You’re positive this is the right place?”
“Andi, I don’t have time for games, so yes, I’m sure.”
“But it’s a—”
“A lingerie shop—yes, I know.” His voice softened. “Just trust me, Andi.”
She shook her head, backing away from both Colin and the looming store, the windows of which displayed exquisite panties and bras in enticing jewel tones. One look told Andi that a single pair of underwear from those racks would cost her a month’s rent on her tiny Dallas apartment.
“Where the hell are you off to, love?” Colin shouted, trailing after her.
“Oh no,” she said, quickening her pace. “I’m not going in there with you. No way in hell.”
He grabbed her arm gently and tugged her to a stop. Andi winced a little at the touch, a brief reaction that didn’t escape Colin. “Oh yes, you are,” he said. It wasn’t a question.