Seduced

by Angel Payne

  “Basta,” She spat it at a nonexistent Zoe, jamming her hands into her jeans pockets so she didn’t have to watch them shake. There was a sensible reason why Ethan was back here today. And letting Bella paw him like they were rehearsing a sexy tango for one of those celebrity dance shows. And continuing to smile like he enjoyed every second of it.

  Cameron to the rescue.

  She let herself breathe as their director and unspoken leader entered. Cameron Stock was as big as a UFC champion but gentle as a high school guidance counselor, a combination that served him well during the show’s production. By the gleam in his eyes and the eager grin on his square face, Ava judged he was working on his fifth or sixth cup of coffee for the day. Despite that, the man lifted his voice in its normal blend of statesman and quarterback.

  “Good morning, everyone. Thank you for prying yourselves out of your normal nooks and crannies for the early call time.”

  As everyone chuckled, he turned to give a nod to one more person who arrived on the set. Though Cameron’s motion was small, the effect was significant. The person he greeted was Mr. Lemare himself, dressed in his usual open-necked shirt, casual-but-custom suit, and luxurious Italian boots that were worth three months of Ava’s salary. Everyone bolstered their posture and silenced their phones as Cam continued.

  “As you can surmise, we’ve got a significant piece of news to relay today. Several, in fact. First, we have decided not to renew Mr. Lake’s contract with the show. I know this part doesn’t come as a surprise, considering how avidly Trent’s been pursuing a film career. We wish him the best in his endeavors.”

  The bitterness in the man’s eyes betrayed the opposite sentiment, but that wasn’t a shock to anyone. His smile became a savoring smirk as he continued, “On that note, I’m ecstatic to say that we’ll be killing off Mr. Lake’s character in a big two-hour special taking place on our normal broadcast date in ten days.” After the excited ripple from the declaration abated, he went on, “When I say big, people, I mean it. Mr. Lemare has gotten the studio’s green light to contribute his own backing into this endeavor. We’re buying up our own advertising slots so as to present the episode commercial-free. We’ll be able to write it as a two-hour movie instead of a ten-part television episode, with the last half hour to be a live broadcast of our scripted content.

  “Because of this, the story will be bigger, the action more intense. We’ll be double-checking every detail of the plot, with the help of some real-world consultants generously on loan to us from the army. I’m happy to introduce Sergeants Archer, Lange, and Stafford, whom many of you met during their set visit yesterday. I’d like to thank you all for continuing our Dress Blues hospitality during their time with us.”

  Cameron basked in the excited applause that filled the building. Thirty seconds later, the production crew swarmed him in full interrogation mode about how the live broadcast was going to work. Everyone else turned to each other, chattering about the challenge ahead. It wasn’t rare for reality shows to broadcast live, but in scripted television, the decision was a move that could either fly high or fall hard. At the moment, everyone concentrated on the more pleasant of those two options.

  It was all background buzz to Ava.

  Cameron’s news had filled in the blanks about why Ethan was still here. She’d been so riveted on him, she hadn’t noticed Rhett and Rebel were here too. Of course, neither of them had Bella practically sitting in their lap with the flirtation jets on full, leaving them free to toss Ava a pair of good-natured waves. She slapped on a brave smile in return but quickly made her way outside, deciding she needed several minutes of air and solitude.

  There was a corner outside that she’d secretly claimed as hers. It was located steps from the Wardrobe department, a benefit since Bella enjoyed making sure the team there earned their paychecks with her last-minute changes. Ava could always scoot there fast if need be. But the location was also dark and private, thanks to the hydraulic lift that seemed permanently parked there.

  Today, she decided to take advantage of the equipment. After scooting up onto the platform of the lift, she rested her arms and chin on the lower railing and stared at the soundstage wall in contemplative silence.

  Ten days. Ethan’s stay had just been given a huge extension because of this gig as one of the show’s advisors. The decision about the script direction must have happened late last night and explained why he’d gotten the drop-everything text from Franzen.

  It was a gift. Wasn’t it?

  If asked back at midnight, she would have danced naked on the beach in thanks to the Hollywood marketing gods for it. A big part of her was still crazy proud of him and girlishly excited for herself. Just knowing he was in the same geographic vicinity, instead of two states and thousands of miles away, made the air itself feel a little more special.

  But she couldn’t deny what she’d just seen. The giddy smile on Bella’s face. The cavalier grin on Ethan’s. And damn it, if Noah were loading up his ark today, they’d be the pair picked as the most beautiful creatures on earth. Bella looked like she belonged on his arm—and was fully acting the part too.

  Which means what?

  The question—to be accurate, her utter lack of an answer to it—had rolled her gut into the aching ball at which she winced at now. The spur to her heels, getting her out of there as fast as she could.

  She instantly squirmed in retaliation. “You don’t cower, Chestain.” She ordered it from grinding teeth. “Cowering is in your past, damn it.” Her shoulders straightened on a surge of determination. “You can handle this, whatever it is. He was in your bed last night, not hers. He kissed you goodbye until he broke away.”

  He was also the person she’d dragged out Colin and Flynn for. To whom she’d opened herself in ways she swore would never happen again.

  “You told him their names. It wasn’t a crime.”

  Just like it wasn’t a crime for him to be holding Bella’s hand and trading some jokes with the woman this morning.

  She had to stop being a coward. To at least give him the chance to explain. This time without Bella making like human plastic wrap on him.

  With head high and a confident stride, she made her way back to work. But once she was back on set, perplexity hit fast. Bella wasn’t there anymore. That usually meant the star was in her trailer, which normally generated at least one frantic text with a demand of Ava’s whereabouts, but the phone had been silent.

  Charlie strolled in. “Hey, sweet truffle!” he greeted. “There you are. I looked for you during Cam’s big pep rally. You didn’t miss it, did you?”

  She returned his hug. “I was in the back of the mob.”

  “Mmmm.” Though his tone was encouraging, his gaze darted away. “Probably for the best.”

  Her throat turned into a solid lead pipe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Charlie rolled his blue-greens at the catwalks overhead. “Dear Lawd in Heaven, I told her to jump fast onto the good bounty that is Ethan Archer, did I not? You heard me, heavenly fathah, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” she retorted. “And so did I.” Her face warmed. “And so I…did.”

  He plunged his gaze back down, eyes now wide. “Pardon the hell out of me, crème brûlée?”

  “Have you and Matt been on another dessert obsession?”

  “Don’t you dare change the subject.” He grinned as he grabbed her by the elbows. “You and Mr. Hunk of Decadent Goodness?”

  Ava’s whole face began to warm. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?”

  “At Bella’s place.”

  “At Bella’s place?”

  “In the wine room.”

  “Holy shit.” He hauled her closer. “Does Bella know?”

  “No!” She grabbed the front of his black D&G shirt. “And you are sworn to secrecy, Jenkow.”

  “Duh,” he countered. But confusion crunched his features. “I only asked because…”

  “Because wh
at?” She dreaded giving the prompt. And if Charlie gave the answer she expected, the feeling was doomed to get doubled.

  “If Bella caught a whiff of the tour you gave him of the villa, that would explain a few things.”

  “What things?” She verbally stomped on the second word enough to make her friend hunch his brows at her. But before she could get any more information from Charlie, her cell buzzed. Bella’s name appeared in the window, along with the string of exclamation points that formed the woman’s version of a drop-everything summons. “Guess you lucked out, sweetie.”

  Charlie tugged her into a hug, his face still conveying that strange pensiveness. “And I hope you do too, creamsicle. God knows, nobody deserves it more.”

  She snorted. “You’re just saying that because you still want that Prada tux.”

  Her joke worked. He grinned and drawled, “I’m just saying that because I love you.” With his old snark intact again, he pulled back. “I also happen to be the new president of your fan club.”

  “Huh?”

  “Fornication in Bella Lanza’s wine room.” He said it like the explanation was obvious. “There’s no mountain you can’t climb now. Go get him, tiger butter.”

  * * *

  The trip back to Bella’s trailer took her past the show’s on-site production offices. Ava watched Cameron walking toward them, head down in what looked like an intense conversation with Rebel Stafford. Rhett waved at the pair from the window, sitting at a conference table that looked like a war room already, giving her the impression Ethan was likely nearby as well.

  The observation, along with the boost of knowing she had a fan club with a president and everything, made her laugh as she walked the last thirty yards to the trailer. She berated herself for the conclusions to which she’d jumped when scrutinizing Ethan and Bella earlier. Bella herself would likely provide the logical explanation for their overtures, citing how they were remembering old times and couldn’t keep their hands off each other for a few minutes. She’d respond by listening patiently, knowing Ethan would call soon…confident they’d find a way to see each other again during his stay.

  Her heartbeat sped. Maybe they could even revisit the prop room. Just flashing on a memory of their kiss from yesterday, with the wall at her back and Ethan’s body fitted to hers in all the right places in front, provided deeper assurance that whatever happened between him and Bella on main set—

  Was now the main attraction they’d taken to the dressing trailer.

  “Dios.”

  The adrenaline she’d been enjoying two seconds ago turned into a congealed mess at the base of her throat, preventing nothing more from coming out. Not a sound. Not a choke. Certainly not a breath. But her eyes worked just fine, damn them, and were now seared with the image of Ethan, sans his uniform jacket, leaned back in Bella’s styling chair, chuckling while the woman straddled him, playfully brandishing a tube of hair cream. Like she needed help from the product. Her red fingernails were missiles of seduction in his thick hair. As she deepened the invasion, Ethan’s hands tightened against her bare thighs. Such a thing was possible when all somebody wore was a mini satin dressing robe, a red demi cup, and matching thong panties.

  “Ava!” Bella’s greeting was half buried in giggles. “Finally. Per amor di Dio, where have you been?”

  “I…uhhh…had to… Wardrobe had something for me to—”

  “Did you make it for Cameron’s meeting?” As the woman scooted off Ethan’s lap, her tone clicked into a business mien, though that didn’t stop her from sliding a hand down his chest as she went. Ethan’s tight but discernible grunt, definitely a sound of pleasure on top of pain, assured that the knot in Ava’s throat wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I…” she stammered. “Yeah. I was there.” She couldn’t bring herself to move. Or to stop staring into the mirror, where it seemed easier to look at Ethan now. If she confined him to the reflection, then it wasn’t really him sitting here. It wasn’t really his wrinkled clothes, with his dark-blue pants stretched into that hard mound where it most mattered. And it sure as hell wasn’t his stare that stabbed through the dark discord of his hair, right at her, without a moment of softness or acknowledgment about what they’d shared yesterday. It wasn’t him staring as if she might as well be just another pretty face in a land that ate pretty for breakfast.

  “Good, good.” Bella strolled to the refrigerator and pulled out a vitamin water. “Porca vacca, with all this excitement, I’m simply parched. Ethan darling, do you want one too?”

  “Negative.” He let that stretch into the most uncomfortable three seconds of Ava’s life. “But Ava looks like she might.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She spewed the words more than said them. She could barely stand here breathing the same air as him right now, let alone be bothered with the sham of civility. Ethan seemed to understand at least that much, but Bella didn’t. Her boss whipped over a look of such stunned fury, Ava was forced to drop her head. Humiliation joined her rage, pouring its scalding pain through the giant crack in her heart and into the center of her soul.

  “Of course she is. Ava’s always good to go. Aren’t you, sweetie?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She threw a smirk full of Cinderella sweetness at Bella. “That’s me. Ready for…anything.” With the smile still in place, she let her eyes throw Evil Queen daggers at Ethan. “But you know, I did leave some, umm, supplies back at main set. Be back in a jiff.”

  As she turned and stumbled to the door, she was all too aware of Ethan rising behind her. There was no way she couldn’t be. Even now, with every cell in her body yearning to get away from him, the awareness of his size, his heat, his potent presence was like a drug on her helpless libido, pulling ruthlessly at her for another hit.

  When would she learn?

  When the hell would she realize that guys like him had special radars for women like her: the ones who got one look at their dog tags and one earful of their boot stomps and opened their legs while closing down their common sense…until it was too damn late. Like now.

  “I need to get going too, missy,” she heard him say to Bella.

  “Awww.” Her trademark pout permeated every note. “For real, arrow bear?”

  Arrow bear?

  She was strongly tempted to use that as an excuse to hurl when she got outside the trailer door. But getting away from Ethan Archer, as fast as she possibly could, ranked much higher on this mission objective.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ethan didn’t bother shouting after her. It hadn’t worked yesterday, and it sure as fuck wasn’t going to work now. Instead, he skipped straight to catching up to her, hooking an arm around her waist, and hauling her into a nearby building that was thankfully unlocked. From the desks he’d glimpsed through the window, he guessed the place was a temporary production office. The assumption was right. The room also contained a bunch of filing cabinets, rolling chairs, and even a kitchenette with a single-cup coffee maker. As settings went, it was fine. He wasn’t too sure about the seething fireball of a woman still locked in his hold.

  “Let me go!” Ava demanded.

  “Stop kicking and I will.”

  “I’ll scream.”

  “Empty threat, sunshine. You’re doing a fine job of that right now.”

  “Shut. Up. And take your goddamn hands off me!”

  “Stop kicking first. Please.” Ironically, he summoned some Dom mojo to emphasize the last word.

  “Ethan, if you don’t let me go—ahhh!”

  He released her. And watched her fall right on her adorable ass. Because she’d been kicking so hard, she had no proper footing to stand.

  Because of how you hurt her. How you’re still hurting her because of this ruse with Bella. And have to continue digging that damn knife into her, until that memory stick is found.

  He turned, unable to contain his grimace. He’d done shitty things for this job but this capped the list. He hadn’t signed up to be lounging around a goddamn movie studi
o, playing James Bond games and earning himself a tormented glower from the woman he’d pursued across seven months and over a thousand miles. This woman he now had to treat like a possible suspect in this fucking thing, at least in the eyes of his team.

  But if he went to Franz and came clean about everything, told him that Ava Chestain had passed his personal “body cavity search,” the captain would toss his ass onto a plane for home faster than anyone could yell Roll, mark, action. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let that happen, not when Ava was working every day for a man with tight ties to terrorists who’d been pulling some scary, shifty shit lately. If he had to endure Ava’s hatred for that, so be it. She’d be pissed, but she’d be safe.

  He held out a hand to help her up. Ava glared, shoved to her feet by herself, and then parked herself in one of the rolling chairs, pulling a hand through her hair in fury. Hell. She had to remind him of how the thick chocolate curls had felt between his fingers, didn’t she?

  It took every ounce of concentration he had to keep his voice even. “Are you okay?”

  “Do you care anymore?”

  He caught her stare, afire with fury and pain, and answered quietly, “After last night, is that fair?”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “After last night, should I have expected to come to work and find Bella straddling you like a lap dancer? Of course, after the two of you warmed up at the cast and crew meeting—”

  “Bella and I share a past.” The words were tight with his tension. The truth was, Bella—at the time, Brenda—was a mistake that never should’ve happened. Just being around her the last forty-eight hours had shown him that. What had he seen in her eight years ago? A sexual appetite that matched his own, that was what—not that he was going to drop that particular bomb into this conversation. “We’re comfortable with each other. And this consulting shit is a whole lot of brand-new and weird to me. She’s trying to help.”

  “Right. With her naked body in your face.”