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

  “All right, everybody. Roll ‘em.” Tom’s voice echoed in her ears.

  Lisa, as Conchita, slowly stepped through the heavy wooden door that led to the archway in back of the hacienda. Moving stealthily through the elaborate garden, she paused once again when she neared the gate, quickly looking around for possible eyes watching her. She’d long since gotten used to pretending she was alone in a scene when the reality was that several crew members were watching, not to mention the director, the cameraman dogging her steps, the wardrobe person anxiously watching that her dress didn’t tear on a bush or thorn, and the makeup person standing by.

  She slipped through the gate and darted down the path, her slippers making no sound. When she reached the center of the orchard, she stopped, bewildered. Where was Reynaldo?

  “Reynaldo?” she whispered. The dying sunlight did not reach beneath the trees. Suddenly he stepped out from behind her, making her whirl in fright.

  “You came,” he stated quietly.

  Suddenly shy, she nodded. “I can’t stay long. Maria will be looking for me soon.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

  “You said you had something to tell me.”

  “Yes. I wanted to be the one to tell you that I’m leaving the valley.”

  “But why? This is your home!”

  Grimly he answered, “Yes, but your father has seen to it that if I stay, my family will suffer.”

  “My father! Why would he want to do that?”

  “You really are an innocent, niña. Your father is no fool. He knows why I’ve stayed here. He knows I’ve been seeing you.”

  “But there’s nothing wrong with our friendship. Nothing!”

  “Perhaps not in your eyes, but in his? Is it possible you are not enthusiastic about your betrothal?”

  Conchita gasped. “You know?”

  “It’s the talk of the valley. With you and Roberto forming an alliance, the entire valley will belong to you some day. I can understand how that would turn your head.”

  “But it hasn’t, Reynaldo. You know that I love you.”

  “Your father won’t even listen to my request to court you, Conchita. He’s made it clear you are to marry Roberto. I can do nothing about it. Now that my family is suffering because of my obsession with you, I realize I must leave.”

  “Oh, Reynaldo, please don’t go. I couldn’t bear not to see you again.”

  Drew glanced down at Lisa. She was adorable in the simple costume. The white gauzy material clung precariously to her shoulders, the cap sleeves looking as though they could be moved with ease. Without volition, Drew reached out and edged the sleeve from her shoulder in a move not used in the rehearsal. She looked up at him, startled. He could see the fluttering of her pulse at the base of her neck, exposed by the scooped neckline of the dress. Her waist looked small enough to be spanned by his hands, and once again he let his instincts take over.

  Pulling her closer by grasping her waist, he leaned down and placed a featherlike kiss on her exposed shoulder. He could hear the camera still running in the background, and the lights had been carefully set up to denote moonlight sifting through the trees, but all that was of no consequence to Drew. The fantasies that he’d been living with for months had sprung full-blown in his head now that Lisa was near him once again, gazing up at him almost apprehensively, but with love.

  Of course she was acting—that was what she was paid to do. But he shouldn’t be taking money for this scene because he was living it and treasuring every second.

  He lifted her in his arms so that her mouth was close to his and he kissed her—long, soul-searching, draining kisses, showing her how much he’d missed her, how much he loved her and how desperately sorry he was to have to let her go. Her arms went around his neck, and he could feel her trembling against him. It was good to know she wasn’t totally unaffected by him.

  Then he remembered his lines.

  “I want you, Conchita.”

  He’d almost said Lisa.

  “Will you come away with me?”

  He had lowered her back to the ground, but his hand had lingered, stroking up to her shoulder and down across her breast so that it was resting lightly on the rounded contour. He could feel her heart pounding.

  He was glad for the script, because he couldn’t take another rejection from her. In the script she was supposed to agree to run off. He waited for her to deliver her line.

  She stared up at him as if she were hypnotized. Drew decided to save the scene by kissing her once more, because it was obvious to him she’d forgotten her lines. Interesting. Lisa was always letter perfect. That kiss must have shaken her as much as it had him.

  When he lowered his head once again, she hastily stepped back.

  “Not again. Please. Don’t kiss me again.”

  Ad-libs, each word.

  “I’ll go with you, Reynaldo.”

  Ah, she remembered.

  “But don’t kiss me like that. I can no longer think.”

  Daring to ad-lib as well, Drew smiled—his devilish smile that caused Lisa and twenty million other women to go weak in the knees whenever they saw it—and continued.

  “You don’t have to think, my love, just feel.”

  “Cut!” Tom yelled. He stomped over to where they stood, glaring at them both. “Are we filming the same script as you two? I don’t recognize very many of these lines.”

  Drew laughed. He watched with a certain amount of fascination as the rose color climbed into Lisa’s face.

  “I’m sorry, Tom,” she said. “I froze there for a minute and couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say. Do you want to redo the scene?” Lisa deliberately turned her shoulder to Drew.

  “No, we’ll pick up from there. I just wasn’t sure where you two were taking us. Do you need to look at the script again?”

  If anything, Lisa’s face turned an even brighter hue. “No, Tom. I know what I’m supposed to say.” She refused to meet Drew’s eyes.

  When she turned back around, Drew looked at her with an innocent expression. He’d learned something very important today, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to use it.

  Lisa was still attracted to him. If he could make her face that fact, there just might be a chance they could use that to rebuild their relationship. Whoever it was in her life, he wasn’t around at the moment. And Drew was. He intended to take advantage of the situation. He smiled to himself. The next several weeks could be very interesting.

  Lisa looked back over the three weeks they’d been filming in Mexico, amazed on the one hand that so much time had flown by so quickly, and on the other hand, how slowly the time went when she wasn’t with Drew.

  She only saw him on the set. She had no idea where he disappeared to after the filming was over for the day, but rarely did he join the group for dinner.

  However, the daily filming was creating such a frustrated longing for him she could scarcely deal with her emotions. It really wasn’t fair that Drew of all people knew how to arouse her. He knew the exact spot on her neck to nibble, to caress, and he was taking full advantage of his knowledge, on camera.

  Tom was ecstatic with the rushes and teased them about the amount of rehearsing necessary to provide such authentic love scenes. He wasn’t far from wrong because Drew was deliberately using everything he’d learned in the years they were married to arouse her. And it was working.

  By the end of the day she was ready to leap on him. However, as soon as Tom declared that the shooting was over for the day, Drew would casually stroll away from her and start chatting with someone else, just as though the scene had left him totally unmoved. How did he do it? And how did she cope with her reactions?

  Lisa tried cold showers but decided they only made her shiver. They certainly didn’t help her with calm, tranquil thoughts of anything but Drew. Then she tried some exercises before bedtime, hoping they would relax her, but her body knew they were not the type of exercises it needed or wanted.

  D
amn the man.

  Meanwhile, Drew was suffering very similar reactions, and the reason he avoided her off the set was that he was afraid of losing control some evening and dragging her off to his room, her room or anywhere else that appeared likely.

  He wondered who he was trying to punish—himself or her. Granted he could tell he was getting to her, and why not? They had spent many pleasurable hours learning how to enjoy each other, how to please each other and how to satisfy each other. He wondered when she would give in and admit she wanted them to make love. What if she never gave in? What was he going to do? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  The day Lisa had most been dreading had come. They would be shooting the most provocative scene in the entire film. Conchita and Reynaldo had managed to escape from her father’s trap, and they found themselves in the foothills after days and nights of weary travel.

  Reynaldo was trying to get to Mexico City, but they were far from the roads that would lead them there. He didn’t want Conchita to know they were lost and that their supply of food was perilously low. In order to survive they would have to return to the valley and risk being seen by her father’s men. But the valley also offered assistance from friends. It was a risk they had to take.

  When Conchita awakened, Reynaldo had food prepared for her to eat and afterward he suggested she might wish to bathe in the stream nearby.

  Although they had been together for almost a week, they had not made love, and the tension between the two was intense. Reynaldo had intended to take her to the priest to marry them, but when their plans to leave together had been prematurely discovered, they had barely managed to get away.

  Reynaldo, an honorable man, did not want to take advantage of their situation, but he was young and in love, and hot blood coursed through his veins.

  Conchita, on the other hand, was elated to have eluded her father and no longer cared about their situation. Unaware of the dangers and the lack of food, she was content to be with Reynaldo and ready to offer him her love and devotion in whatever form he wished.

  Although raised modestly, Conchita was not ashamed of her body nor was she ashamed of the love she felt for Reynaldo, which was why she returned from the river with only a small towel for cover.

  Since this scene was being shot in the foothills overlooking the hacienda, Tom had brought only a minimum crew. He was sensitive to the delicate nature of such a scene, and Lisa appreciated his thoughtfulness in providing them with temporary shelter where they were to change their clothes.

  Lisa was a great deal more nervous over this scene than the mythical Conchita would have been, she was sure. Conchita had no doubts about what she wanted. Lisa didn’t know how she was going to be able to survive any more of Drew’s knowledgeable lovemaking. But when she stepped out of her dressing area she noticed that Drew didn’t look any happier than she did. Perhaps the strain was getting to him as well.

  Drew watched Lisa step from her dressing room in a short toweling robe that left little to the imagination, and he found himself resenting every male eye that was going to see her in this film. Not that he had any doubts that Tom would provide tasteful footage, but getting ready for the scenes, rehearsing the scenes, then shooting them would entail more exposure of Lisa’s body than Drew felt he wanted to share—with Tom, the cameraman or anyone else. He watched her step hesitantly across the rough ground and perch on a large boulder.

  Tom had already cleared the small grassy area of rocks and anything sharp that might gouge one of them at an inopportune moment. A blanket lay spread out, waiting for them. Drew looked around with disgust. Dammit. Why did the public insist on more explicit love scenes? What had happened to the imagination of the viewers? Gone with the Wind had no nudity, but the love scenes couldn’t have been more sizzling.

  He shook his head. Gone with the Wind had been made almost fifty years ago. Suddenly he felt old. He wondered just how much of his acting ability was admired by those who flocked to see him and how much of his popularity was due to his photogenic backside. He realized he probably didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Ready, Drew?” Tom called.

  As ready as I’ll ever be, he decided with a grim smile. I just hope to hell I can remember that other people are around so I don’t embarrass both of us.

  The first part of the scene went well. Conchita demurely appeared back in camp with only her towel. She waited for Reynaldo to turn away from the campfire, then she slowly dropped the towel. The camera was given a full view of her beautiful backside but Drew was to react to the view from the front.

  It didn’t take much acting on his part.

  She stood proudly before him, her chin tilted slightly, and waited for him. Drew slowly came toward her, savoring her, loving her, trying to remember that he was Reynaldo, and that he was supposed to fight the reaction he was feeling. He whimsically wondered if Tom would forgive him if he ruined the first scene by tossing Lisa onto the blanket, making mad, passionate love to her, then agreeing to reshoot the scene. Somehow he doubted that either Tom or Lisa would understand.

  “Conchita, love, I mustn’t touch you.”

  He paused in front of her, within arm’s reach, his body straining toward her, his arms at his sides.

  Shy now that she was face-to-face with him, she drew the towel to her breasts, which left the clean line of her shoulders, tiny waist and curving hips clearly defined.

  “You don’t want me?” she asked. Reynaldo groaned. “I am on fire for you, mí corazón. But the priest has not blessed our union.”

  She smiled and the camera moved in for a close-up.

  Drew stiffened as the cameraman moved in. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing the blanket and shoving it around Lisa’s shoulders. Cool it, Donovan. The man’s a professional. Somehow that didn’t help. Drew considered himself a professional as well. In fact he had been part of many scenes similar to this, and his leading lady’s lack of clothing had never bothered him before.

  But Lisa was different.

  “God has blessed or union, Reynaldo. He has brought us here safely. I am yours now.”

  He stared down at her and saw the glint of humor in her eyes. So she thought this was funny, did she? Gently he picked her up, and carrying her like precious, breakable cargo, he walked over to the blanket, coming down with her so that his body shielded her from the ever-seeing eye of the camera.

  Lisa unbuttoned his shirt at the wrists, then down the front, shyly pulling it from his shoulders. While the camera was trained on their faces and shoulders, Drew pulled off his pants so that both of them were nude. In that position the camera would be able to pick up angles of his back, hips and thighs and only see glimpses of her, perhaps a titillating view of a rosy peak, but for the most part the emphasis would be on their expressions and reactions to each other.

  Neither one of them had to fake feelings.

  For the first time in a year Drew felt Lisa’s warm, loving body pressed boldly against his. A shock went through him when he faced the possibility that she could have made this movie with someone else.

  But Tom had said it had been written especially for them. The writer knew they were married and had used that knowledge to add sensuality to the scene. There was no way Drew could have allowed another man to hold Lisa like this, to place nibbling little kisses along her forehead and brows, to discover the delicate scent behind her ears, to find solace in the possession of her mouth as it met his with fierce tenderness.

  Lisa was his. Somehow he would convince her of that.

  Lisa could feel Drew’s reaction to their position, and she fought a moment of panic. Never had they been completely nude in a love scene where their reactions could be monitored. She glanced up at him—so close above her—and saw the dancing lights in his eyes. Why had she thought he would be embarrassed by the fact that he was turned on by her? He was amused that she was!

  He muttered a few words of love in Spanish, staying faithfully with the script, while his hands leisurely explored
the tempting contours of her body. She wondered how much of the scene was on camera and could only hope they wouldn’t have to reshoot it. Her blood pressure wouldn’t be able to stand it.

  When his lips found hers, Lisa found herself relaxing in his arms. This was Drew and it was real. She knew he loved her—and she loved him—and for this little while she could rejoice in their closeness.

  Nine

  “That’s a wrap,” Tom shouted exultantly, “and it’s going to be a winner. Whew! I think you must have raised everyone’s temperature at least ten degrees with that last kiss.”

  The assembled group broke into laughter, relieved to be through with the scene. The sun had been beating down on them all morning, and everyone was limp with the heat.

  Everyone but Drew and Lisa.

  Lisa had been handed her robe and Drew his as soon as the scene was completed, and both of them wordlessly returned to their miniscule dressing rooms to dress. By the time they came out, Tom had announced to the crew that they had the rest of the day off. He wanted to get this particular film developed to make sure nothing was wrong with it before they went on. In the meantime, everyone was awarded free time and the group started piling into their Jeeps, reveling in the idea of jumping into the hacienda swimming pool as soon as they returned.

  Drew and Lisa were conspicuously quiet in the rowdy group.

  Tom congratulated everyone on the teamwork, pointing out they were ahead of their shooting schedule. By the time they returned to the hacienda, everyone was in a holiday mood. Everyone except Drew and Lisa.

  Lisa had ridden in a different Jeep from Drew, and she was one of the first to hop out and head for her room. She didn’t look around to see where Drew was. She didn’t want to know. She just knew that she had to reach some privacy as soon as possible before she fell apart. The quivering inside her that had started at Drew’s first touch had never lessened, and she ached with wanting him.