Men Made in America Mega-Bundle

by Gayle Wilson, Marie Ferrarella, Jennifer Greene, Annette Broadrick, Judith Arnold, Rita Herron, Anne Stuart, Diana Palmer, Elizabeth Bevarly, Patricia Rosemoor, Emilie Richards

  Lisa’s eyes flew open, her thoughts determined to betray her firm resolve. Drew was still in the water, swimming leisurely, obviously enjoying himself. She felt the perspiration continuing to trickle down her back and between her breasts. Why was she punishing herself? What was wrong with enjoying the coolness of the water? She stared at the blue sky for an answer but none came.

  Slowly, Lisa sat up. Drew was downstream from her, facing the other way. Hesitantly she reached for the top button of her blouse, then with sudden determination, her decision made, she hurriedly stripped away her confining clothing and stood up. The breeze felt good on her overheated body. She slipped her legs into the wonderfully cool water and waded toward the middle of the river. It no longer mattered to her that Drew might see her, or that her hair would be a mess. Comfort came first and the water was a blessing on her warm skin, answering a promise of surcease from the sun and her thoughts.

  She started swimming upstream with firm, rapid strokes, diving briefly underwater, then raising her head, forcing her hair away from her face.

  Drew had been right—the water was wonderful.

  “Couldn’t resist, could you?”

  Startled at the closeness of his voice, Lisa lost the rhythm of her stroke and water splashed into her mouth. She choked, looking around her. Drew was easily pacing her in the water, his eyes dancing above the crystal clarity of the river.

  “You scared me!” she accused when she could get her breath.

  He turned over, floating. “How could I scare you, love? You knew I was here.”

  She quit swimming and began to tread water. The water was so clear that she could see his entire body spread in front of her. “I thought you were swimming downstream.”

  “So you decided to come upstream. How terribly modest of you,” he drawled. “Are you by chance concerned that I might have evil designs upon your enticing body?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Lisa began to swim in a diagonal line toward the shore, where she had left her clothes.

  Drew obligingly paced her. “You know I’ve always enjoyed getting my hands on your luscious body, Lisa. Why call it silly?”

  Without looking at him she pulled herself up on the bank and began to wring her hair out. Of course she wasn’t self-conscious in front of Drew. How could she be? He knew her body as well as, if not better than, she did. He certainly knew every place on her body that could respond to him. Lisa hoped he wouldn’t take advantage of that fact. She was too vulnerable to him now.

  Drew pulled himself out of the river and sat down a few feet away. “That was great, wasn’t it?”

  Lisa glanced around, her gaze tracing the rivulets of water that slithered down his chest. Forcing her gaze to meet his, she nodded. “Yes, it was. Thank you for suggesting it.”

  He stood up and stretched, and the sunlight glinted off his golden skin. “My pleasure.” He leaned over and picked up his shirt, tossing it to her. “Here—you can use this for a towel.”

  Grateful for his casual tone and manner, Lisa caught the shirt and hastily dried herself. With jerky movements she pulled her clothes back on. By the time she was dressed Drew had laid out the food that Arturo had packed for them. The meal consisted of hearty sandwiches, fruit and bottled water, and Lisa was surprised at her appetite.

  “Are you ready to go back?” Drew asked after they had eaten. Lisa felt relaxed by the peacefulness that had settled around them while they ate and enjoyed the view. Drew had the uncanny ability to make her relax, even when he was the one with whom she most needed to keep up her guard. But for some reason she felt no more pressure from him. For this small moment in time they had unconsciously agreed to enjoy the chance to be together, without questioning the past or the future. It was enough for them to have the present.

  Lisa sighed. “Yes. We’d better get back before someone starts to worry.”

  Drew smiled. “It wouldn’t do for the stars of the film to get lost the day before shooting begins, now would it?”

  “I was surprised at how easily Tom agreed for us to go,” she admitted.

  “I wasn’t,” Drew replied with a grin. “Tom has let me do all the exploring I want. He knows I’ve been too restless to stay cooped up at the hacienda, despite the distractions offered.”

  Lisa was well aware of the distractions—the lovely women she’d seen, their black eyes flashing impishly. She was in total agreement with Tom, even though she had to admit her jealousy was irrational and totally illogical. Since she fully intended to divorce Drew so that he could remarry someone who could have his children, she wasn’t making much sense by preferring he be alone.

  Drew walked to her side to help her into the saddle. He placed his hands on her waist and gripped firmly. “I’ve enjoyed today with you, Lisa. Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly.

  She could feel the tautness in his body, feel the leashed energy within him so tightly under control. “I enjoyed it, too, Drew,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  Lisa turned toward her mount, and Drew boosted her into the saddle. They rode back to the hacienda in silence, each caught up in his and her own thoughts—once again trapped between the past, the present and the unpredictable future.

  Six

  “Now…in this scene Conchita’s father has announced to the family that he and a neighboring landowner have entered into an agreement for their son and daughter to marry.” Tom glanced around at the assembled cast. “We’re shooting this scene now because Richard Driscoll has to return to New York by the weekend. The next scene will be the confrontation between Richard and Lisa. I’d like to get these two scenes wrapped up today.” Once again he glanced around. “Are there any questions?”

  Lisa watched the faces of the assembled actresses and actors. All of them were good at their jobs and they were ready to shoot. Rehearsals had gone smoothly, and Lisa felt a glow deep within her. This film was going to be good. There was a current running among all of them, encouraging an intense response to one another. Sometimes a good director could cause such a closeness in a group, but generally it took weeks of working together to reach this stage. For some reason, by the third day of rehearsals, the small cast had pulled together, bolstering one another to do better than their best.

  Lisa glanced around, unconsciously looking for Drew, but he wasn’t there. She hadn’t seen him for three days, except during their evening meals, which everyone shared. Of course she’d been busy rehearsing scenes that he had no part in, so there was no reason to look for him. But she had.

  That was the insidious thing about a relationship such as theirs. They each seemed to be such a part of each other that she felt as though something was missing when he wasn’t around. Her heart, perhaps?

  “All right, everybody,” Tom concluded. “Let’s get started.”

  The smooth, famous tones of Richard Driscoll flowed over her. “You are looking delightfully buxom in that dress, my dear. How do they ever expect me to pretend you’re my daughter, expecting filial devotion from you, when my natural instincts will be to throw you on the nearest sofa and ravish you?” The twinkling blue eyes belied the ferocious frown and grim smile, and Lisa burst out laughing.

  “Richard, you’ve been a joy to work with, and I’m going to miss you terribly. Your outrageous comments and suggestions have been terrific for my ego.”

  “Your ego may have been boosted, but being around you has played hell with my libido, let me assure you. I’ve only been cast as your father. There’s been no reason to treat me as one off the set, you know.”

  “And exactly what would you have done differently had I taken you up on any of your outlandish suggestions, my friend?”

  “Outlandish? How can you say that?”

  “Easy. We would both have to be gold medal gymnasts to perform some of the suggestions you’ve made.”

  He grinned, the famous, heartwarming grin that endeared him to women around the world. “So we would. Then maybe it’s just as well you exerted some control over our love
affair.”

  “How can we be having a love affair when we’ve never even touched each other?”

  “That question proves to me how little you know about human nature. We have touched on the most intimate level—our minds. We have met and shared ourselves as few people have been able to do. And because of that, I will love you forever.”

  His tone had dropped, and she stared at him because the actor had disappeared and only the man stood before her. Richard Driscoll was in his early fifties but it didn’t show. He still played the leading man with panache and heart-stirring sensuality, so that his agreeing to play the part of her father had come as a surprise to many. He was slim and dark, a perfect choice for the don of the hacienda in looks, with a commanding air that radiated from him. Lisa stared into his eyes, witnessing the sincerity in them, recognizing the truth of what he’d just said. They had instantly treated each other like old friends who had been parted for years, eager to catch up on each other’s life.

  He had told her about some of the more painful periods of his life, sharing the heartache, the more joyous periods and the laughter. She had done the same.

  She had even told him how she had suffered when she lost the baby and later left Drew. He had never asked questions, only listened thoughtfully, intently and without judgment. He was right. They had become intimate friends in a very short time, and she knew she was going to miss him.

  Richard took her hand. “I want to stay in touch, Lisa. Let me know how you’re doing and if there is anything I can do for you. You are a very beautiful person and you deserve happiness. I’m still hoping you’ll be able to find it with Drew.”

  Lisa withdrew her hand. “That’s impossible, Richard, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” They stood in the large lounge of the hacienda, waiting for Tom to cue them for their scene. Lisa glanced around for Tom, and her gaze met Drew’s furious one. How long had he been there, and why did he look so angry?

  “Places, everybody,” Tom called. “Richard, let wardrobe look at your left sleeve. The lace seems to have come unstitched. Lisa, take a seat in the burgundy-colored sofa, next to your mother. Your sister will be in the chair next to you.”

  She sat down next to Estelle and absently smiled a greeting while her eyes searched once again for Drew. He was still there, standing on the sidelines in a deceptively casual pose, his shoulder leaning against a pillar. She could feel the anger radiating all around him and she wondered why.

  Then the scene began and Lisa had no time to think about anything but the job at hand.

  Lisa wearily opened the door to her room, grateful to have the day behind her. It was after six and she needed to shower and dress for dinner. But for the moment all she could think about was the need to lie down. With a sigh, she slipped off her shoes and stretched across the bed.

  Both the scenes shot today had been draining. In the first one she’d had to react to the news of a betrothal with a man she had no respect for and knew she could never love. The second one, in which she carried most of the lines, she’d had to initiate the scene between her and her father when she explained that she had not been kidnapped by Reynaldo, but had run away with him, that she had slept with him, expected his child and would return to him whenever she could.

  The problem with filming out of sequence was the necessity to prepare for each scene separately. During the run of a play, the story line became a part of the actor and tension began to build toward the climax, flowing naturally and freely into a confrontation. Filming out of sequence meant she had to force the emotional intensity from her own inner resources rather than use the momentum gained from a previous scene.

  However, the important thing to remember was that both scenes were now completed. There was only one scene left to do with Richard and then he could return to New York. She had reason to feel blessed that he had chosen to do the film with her. Whenever two established actors had a scene together, it sometimes became a contest between the two as to who would dominate. Not so in today’s filming. Richard had undoubtedly been the focal point during the first scene and he could easily have upstaged her during the second scene had he so desired. Instead he played to her, his reactions enhancing her own, his superb acting abilities bringing out the very best she had. Lisa had even surprised herself and after Tom had declared the scene to be over, Lisa had received a round of applause from those watching the filming. Richard had joined in, as well.

  It was days like today that made her chosen career worth while, but so few people understood the toll such a scene took on a person. Lisa felt as though all her emotions had been yanked from her, twisted and turned, manipulated and torn, and she felt drained.

  She toyed with the idea of having a meal sent to her room but knew that was the coward’s way out. It was more than tiredness that made her want to skip the gathering of the group tonight. Although she hadn’t seen Drew since they’d started filming, she was still very aware of the anger she’d sensed in him earlier that morning, and she wasn’t at all sure she was ready to deal with it. Lisa wasn’t certain why she knew the anger had been directed at her. She just did.

  Sometime later the shrill ringing of the phone next to the bed jarred her into wakefulness, and Lisa groped for the offending instrument.

  “Do you intend to eat tonight?” demanded Drew in a harsh tone.

  The room was dark, and Lisa fumbled for the lamp switch. “What time is it?”

  “A little past eight.”

  They generally all met at seven-thirty for drinks. “I’m sorry. I must have been more tired than I thought. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  There was a pause, then Drew offered, “Would you like me to have something sent to your room?”

  The idea sounded heavenly. “Oh, Drew, that would be marvelous.”

  “When?”

  “Oh, give me about twenty minutes.”

  “Fine.”

  Lisa heard the click as the line disconnected, and she hung up, too. Whatever had been bothering Drew still seemed to be in the air, but she would have to face him another day. She felt disoriented and groggy and wondered if she’d have the energy to eat.

  Sitting up, she began to pull her clothes off and, after searching for a nightgown, she grabbed her robe and headed into the bathroom.

  Lisa was blowing her hair dry when she heard the knock at the door. The timing was perfect. She hoped Drew hadn’t ordered anything heavy because she intended to go back to bed as soon as she’d finished eating.

  “Just a minute,” she called, making sure her robe was securely tied before opening the door. A smiling waiter with a covered tray on a rolling cart stood outside. When she beckoned him in she noticed he wasn’t alone. Drew walked in behind him.

  “I took the liberty of ordering a meal for two. I wasn’t really looking forward to the noise and chatter of our shared dining room tonight.”

  Lisa smiled faintly and turned away. “So long as you don’t mind that I’m going to be poor company tonight. I’m really tired.”

  “Tom tells me you did a fantastic job today and is already predicting another Academy Award nomination.”

  Lisa chuckled. “That sounds like Tom. Eagerly optimistic.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it.” Drew stuck his hands in the back pockets of his snug-fitting Levi’s and wandered over to the window.

  Lisa watched the waiter efficiently set the small table near the windows and gave him a tip as he left, for which she received a radiant smile and a quiet, “Gracias.”

  “I didn’t think I was hungry,” she said to Drew’s back, “but you managed to order all my favorites. I’m surprised you remembered.”

  Drew came over to the table and pulled out her chair for Lisa, then sat down opposite her. His intent gaze seemed to pierce her when he said, “I’ve never forgotten anything about you, Lisa—your likes, dislikes, your laugh, your smile, the way you fit into my arms as though you were made for them, the way you respond to me when I’m loving you—I carry it all with me
wherever I go.”

  Lisa sat across from him, holding herself very still, for fear she’d shatter in a thousand pieces if she should so much as shift her weight. The force of Drew’s feelings pinned her into immobility. Before she could find any words to respond, Drew continued.

  “I’ve tried to give you the time you needed to come to terms with the loss of our baby. I’ve tried to understand your need to leave me—I assumed I was too much of a reminder—but Lisa, I need you too much to allow you to end what we have together without at least trying to find alternatives to your solution.”

  Lisa could not look into his eyes any longer, and she picked up her fork and began to eat the delicate shrimp arranged in the salad before her. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say because she’d gone over it in her own mind, time and time again, trying to figure another way out of the dilemma.

  She had even considered telling Drew the truth, but was afraid he would deny his innermost feelings and insist that their inability to have children together did not matter, a lie that both of them would be forced to live.

  Because it did matter—she knew it did. A family was one of Drew’s most fervent goals, although he had been patient about the timing, waiting for their careers to stabilize so that both of them would have the necessary time to spend with a family. Neither of them had wanted someone else raising their family.

  As much as she loved Drew, she was afraid he wouldn’t face what the news meant to their future until it was too late and he had become bitter because of what she had denied him. The doctor had assured her that Drew would be able to father normal children with someone else—just not with her.

  After the grueling day she’d had, Lisa would have preferred postponing this conversation, but it seemed inevitable, and she decided she might as well get on with it.