Was Lucas's claim that he had no other files the truth? He might have said it merely to infuriate his old rival. Whatever the truth was, given how Lucas had been acting, it was wise to make multiple copies of the files she’d found so far.
Once George’s copies were made, she made another set, which she hid. If Lucas came looking for files, he’d find something. The originals were on a flash drive that went into the little wallet she carried around with her in her pocket in the house, the one that also held her cell phone. Not that this was an espionage assignment, but in case Lucas decided to tie one on again, she was ready.
She couldn’t settle down and look at the files right now. She needed the multiple monitors of an editing booth. Plus, her body was tense after the fracas of a half hour ago. She needed to get out of this bedroom and do something active. A walk was out, because she still limped from the cut on her foot caused by the broken glass from Lucas's whiskey bottle. She couldn’t use the pool in this condition, either. Anyway, for all she knew, both men were currently soaking their bruises in the hot tub, best buddies after their fight. Men could do that, and go right back to being enemies the next day.
With Leona’s help, Sara moved her belongings to a different guest bedroom, one with its own private bath. It had a key that could lock the door, which Leona handed to her. Sara didn’t know if she was protecting herself from David or from Lucas. Lucas would have his own key. All right, then. She was protecting herself from David.
She ventured out to the garden, thankful not to meet anybody. Past the arbor there was a small open space not visible from the house. Suitable for Tai Chi. This rocky emotional situation she was in, caught between two men with an old score to settle, called for a dose of serenity and balance.
The familiar motions were soothing. She should do this more often. But even standing on her one good foot, pretending to be a crane, did not keep her from compulsively thinking about the situation. What had she achieved so far? She’d lost her admiring awe of Lucas. Six years ago, he’d been like a god to her. Today, she saw him as a man, and a flawed man at that. Arrogance, folly, or sheer stubbornness had kept him from seeking support to work through his grief. He was stuck emotionally despite all the years that had passed.
She paused to breathe, in and out, trying to be conscious of only the movement of her body.
She also had been stuck, cherishing the delusion that Lucas was the perfect man for her. She should have sought therapy for her fixation. She’d let men pass out of her life who might have been right for her, and all because she was holding onto her foolish, unrequited love of Lucas. All this time, she’d believed if she could only see Lucas again, her love for him would rescue him. Yet she had never made any effort to see Lucas on her own. She’d cherished the fantasy that if they met again, his grief over the unworthy Jennifer Barnes would fade away like a morning mist, leaving him ready to gratefully love and appreciate Sara for her finer qualities and her loyalty.
What a stupid, immature daydream, one that held her in thrall for years, yet she’d never acted on, even to help him. Her crush on Lucas had distorted her view of herself and the world. It had sealed her off from genuine interactions with available men. What was she so afraid of? Being loved?
Love was so special, so personal, so dependent on chemistry. David’s kisses made her eager for more. His mere touch set her body on high alert. Did that mean more than her years of yearning over the fantasy of being loved by Lucas?
She did the final motions of the exercise, aware that her thoughts were supposed to have emptied instead of dwelling obsessively on Lucas.
The arbor beckoned, the one with the flowers that Lucas said attracted wasps. She sat on the bench beneath the flowering vine. No wasps. Were all Lucas's negative assessments equally as mistaken? The way he was now, he was a hard man to like.
She wanted a stable man who loved her, a father for children she might have, and a long-term relationship. She wanted passion, too, and romance. She was tired of being miserable over an unobtainable man. Perhaps she’d never even known Lucas, never loved the real man.
Or had he been forever changed? His sly satisfaction over ruining what he claimed was the only copy of any Desert Wind footage was shocking. Where had that come from? Had he turned from a creator into a destroyer? Did he have some twisted desire to pay the universe back for taking the woman he loved? Or just David Connor?
When she’d been an intern working for Lucas Steel, he would never have stooped to such a wrongheaded action as torching an editing booth, or bothered with a transparent lie about flowers that attracted wasps. What kind of man was he now?
Did it matter, as long as he returned to being a brilliant director? He was still in his prime creative years. Had she lived, Jennifer Barnes would have been over the hill now by film industry standards and unable to get work in romcoms as a star anymore. Unfair, but that was Hollywood.
Thoughts of Jennifer Barnes's face cracking out in wrinkles or distorted by cosmetic surgery would have made Sara happy only a few days ago. Now, seeing the havoc the actress’ death had caused in two men’s lives, Sara wasn’t so sure. They had loved Jennifer deeply. Didn’t that suggest there might have been a soul inside that plastic exterior?
“Sara. Where are you?” David’s voice rang out.
Chapter 16
Could he see her sitting in the arbor? If she said nothing, would he give up and go away?
“There you are. Why didn’t you answer?” He came down the path and stood in front of her. The rays of the setting sun caught his hair and turned it to gold. There should be a law against a man being this handsome or this vibrant. Her brief sense of peace evaporated under his intensity.
“Do you need something?” she asked.
“The footage of Desert Wind.”
Taken aback, and still unsure of how she fit into David’s filming plans, Sara chose her next words carefully. “May I ask for what purpose?”
“To learn what needs to be filmed. My crew arrives here next week, remember.”
“You didn’t cancel?”
“Like Steel wants? No way.” His expression was adamant.
She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. “The footage I found is completely raw. All the file titles are just numbers.”
“You mean it’s not in sequence yet?”
Most films were not shot in story sequence. Another task of the editor was to assemble them into a coherent flow. “I might need weeks to make the barest sense out of it.”
“You don’t have that luxury. Come up with an alternate plan.”
She let her exasperation show in her tone. “Don’t go all Hollywood mogul on me. I don’t have the tools I need to make sense of raw files. Lucas won’t talk to me about what remained to be filmed. You haven’t volunteered anything, either.”
His long fingers slowly rubbed the wooden post that supported the flowering vine. “I can’t tell you because I don’t remember.”
“Why not?”
“What happened to Jen blew everything out of my mind. Her tragic death was all I thought about for days, weeks, months, years.”
Typical actor exaggeration, yet he made it sound sincere.
“What about the final shooting script? Your personal copy?”
He shrugged. “You have no idea how chaotic the scene was after that crane toppled. When I left, all I had were the clothes on my back.”
She pushed at her hair, thinking. “Lucas hinted he didn’t follow George’s script exactly.”
“That’s right. Lucas played games with me, to make me look bad in front of Jen and everyone else. He made completely arbitrary changes, and then didn’t send me my daily revises. Or I’d get a delivery of new pages, color coded as everyone else’s were, but mine wouldn’t have any of my new dialogue or action.”
She frowned. Was that true? She had never known Lucas to be petty. “What you’re telling me is beneath a great artist like Lucas.”
“You don’t believe me? Find someone who
worked on Desert Wind, and ask.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. When I worked for Lucas, he was incredibly fair. To everyone, from the highest to the lowest.” Although possibly he had consulted his baser self when he lost his wife to a rival.
David gave a cynical laugh. “It made him feel like a big shot to be kind to the peons. But when it came to Jen and me, he played dirty.”
“What did you expect from a wronged husband?”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment, with a faint grin. “The whole situation was nuts, but Jen insisted. Chalk it up to me being young and easily led. She swore this one movie with Lucas would turn me into a star.”
“The cachet of working with him was enormous,” she agreed.
“Jen was right. After I was signed to do Desert Wind, suddenly the phone started ringing. I was offered good parts, not the beefcake roles that came my way previously.”
“Even before you’d acted in the film?”
“Lucas had amazing cred then. Now, not so much.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle. “So in your opinion, Desert Wind won’t automatically be a must-see movie?”
“If George lives long enough, he’ll push it hard.” Seeing her expression, he said, “George is tough. He’ll make it.”
“I hope so.” A tear ran down her cheek. “He’s been so wonderful to me. I will hate losing him.”
“A mentor?”
“The real kind,” she said firmly. “Decent, caring, immensely helpful.” She paused. The sun was slowly setting, and the air in the garden was already getting a bit cooler. “You say your judgment of people wasn’t so good five years ago. What about your belief that Jennifer Barnes turned in the best performance of her career?”
“I still believe it. Lucas laughs at me, but he’s wrong. If he’s as brilliant as you keep saying, why didn’t he see how wonderful Jen was in Desert Wind?”
“Maybe he had other things on his mind at the time, like the tangle of your triangular relationship?”
He nodded. “I could buy that.”
She stood, and found her body dangerously close to his. She remembered his kisses of a few hours ago. She’d worked with handsome actors before. His height, his muscular body, and even those blue eyes shouldn’t have affected her. Her heartbeat accelerated, anyway. Her body felt warmer all of a sudden, and her knees were shaky. “I need the final script, and the rest of the film if there’s more. Let’s find Lucas.”
When David made to take her arm to lead her to the house, she avoided his touch. If she gave in right now, she’d be lost.
Lucas was nowhere to be found in the house. In the kitchen, Leona told them Lucas had taken a vehicle and driven off, saying he wouldn’t be back until very late.
Sara’s heart sank. “He’s still running away.”
David smothered his own frustration admirably. He said to Sara, “Think of it as an opportunity to spend some quality time together tonight.” His voice was gentle.
She looked at him sideways. He raised an eyebrow. Was that all he needed to seduce a woman? From the way her pulse was speeding up and her cheeks were heating, she was afraid she’d fallen for the bait of his cliché romantic line.
“Gin or poker?” she asked. “But I warn you, I’m a piker. I only make penny bets.”
“I had in mind something more…intimate.”
When he talked like that, butter in his voice and an angelic expression on his face, Sara didn’t know where to look. Was he serious and set on seduction, or was he always like this?
Leona said, “Guess I don’t need to hear about your plans.” She made to leave the stove and head for the pantry.
David reached out a long arm and pulled the older woman into a light hug. “I’m thinking a candlelight dinner? A special dessert? How about it, Leona?”
The housekeeper looked pleased. “I can do that. In the formal dining room, too. Give me an hour.”
“Wonderful.”
That same buttery tone in his voice. Did he use it on all women on purpose, or was it unconscious? David wasn’t even looking at Sara and still she was melting. His voice made promises, promises those two kisses had proved were true. David would be a gentle lover, seducing at every step, encouraging her to find her needs and fulfill them.
Her breath caught. She had to stop thinking such thoughts. They were talking about dinner, not sex. Weren’t they?
“Okay, an hour,” David said, nodding. “I’ll even clean up in your honor, Miss Leona. Got to keep on your good side or you’ll throw cold water on me again.” He smiled at the older woman.
“Served you right, and you know it,” she said firmly.
“Yes, ma’am. Brawling in a living room. Very bad,” he grinned, not looking at all chastened.
Leona’s face creased in a reluctant smile.
An hour later, David appeared in the formal dining room sporting an open weave off-white jacket and a collared casual shirt beneath it. He’d gone all out and put on wild argyle socks with his loafers. Sara had torn through her very limited wardrobe and come up with a floor-length cotton skirt in a blue batik pattern, matching it with sandals and a daringly bare black camisole top with spaghetti straps. She usually wore the cami under a blouse, but tonight it and her bra were all that defended her body from his appreciative gaze. Her only jewelry was a pair of tiny gold earrings.
They enjoyed Leona’s cooking. Fresh vegetables were complemented by strips of chicken and some kind of white fish with dipping sauces, all set on colorful crockery that had a southwestern vibe.
The candles left the room full of shadows. The stark O’Keeffe paintings took on a soft glow in the dim light. Everything in the room now focused on the two of them, David and Sara.
They talked, but about what, she couldn’t remember the moment the words left her lips, because he stared at her lips and made her very conscious of them. Made her remember how his lips had caressed hers.
He spoke, but she didn’t hear his words, only the message in his blue eyes, the feelings he sent her, feelings to which she responded in spite of herself.
When he lifted his glass to toast her silently, she almost forgot to sip her own wine. The expression on his face was too intoxicating. His eyes said he admired and wanted her as a woman. They said she fascinated him.
Lies. She lowered her gaze, afraid to keep seeing the seduction in his, the deliberate pull that she suddenly wanted to answer. She must remember that he was Lucas's enemy. David wanted to destroy Lucas. She couldn’t let that happen.
He was far too sophisticated, too experienced in the ways of women to make a crude come-on based on dim lighting and a romantic meal. Instead, he let her struggle with her feelings during dinner, then suggested they take their desserts to the sunroom that looked out on the garden.
“If we dim the lights, we’ll see the fountain and the night flowers,” he said.
Why couldn’t she refuse? Why didn’t she tell him that it had been a long day that started in a hospital, that she was tired and needed to sleep? She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He wove a spell around her with his soft voice that implied so much, a spell she couldn’t break. Didn’t want to break. They said good night to Leona and moved into the sunroom.
Once there, David set their plates on a coffee table and sat close to her on the couch. He said nothing as he put one arm around her bare shoulders. Somewhere along the line, he’d shed his jacket. His arm was warm through the broadcloth of his shirt.
She was at a loss for words, even though she knew that words would break the spell. She was drunk on David. She’d never felt this way before. Was he making a pass? Was he about to come on strong? What would she do if he did?
Outside, the garden was busy. Moths flew around the dim path lights. Water danced in the fountain, bubbling up and over the top level to fall gently to the next and then the next. The moon cast a glow over the plants and the walkways. It reached into the room where they sat nearly entwined. David’s warm body was a firm
support to her more pliant one. What a wonderful night.
“It’s beautiful,” she finally managed to say.
He made a noise of assent, but said nothing. She looked at him, wondering why, and found he was staring at her, drinking her in.
“Moonlight becomes you,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open. His gaze was so intense. How could he say such clichés and yet every element of her being believed him? Her body responded even though her brain said this was deliberate enchantment.
“Why don’t you kiss me?” David asked. “We should kiss in this magical moonlight. Hold its magic close to our hearts. Go ahead. I won’t fight you off.” A small teasing smile danced around his lips.
It would be so easy. All she had to do was reach up a little. He was leaning down already, his soft lips temptingly close to hers. She knew those lips, how gentle and firm they were under such incredible, controlled softness. She ached to know them again.
Only a kiss. Had she said it out loud? She lifted her chin and sought his lips with hers.
Magic. Melting. Yearning. She floated on feelings, suspended in time. Not thinking.
“This is cozy.”
Lucas's harsh voice pulled them apart. He stood over them, anger in every line of his body. “I thought you cared about me, Sara. I see you lied, as all women lie.”
“I—I…” she stuttered, in shock at being ripped out of her romantic fantasy.
David spoke deliberately as he put his arm around Sara again. “Jealous, Steel? Sara isn’t the first woman you and I have shared.”
She shrank away from David, aghast. Was that what this seduction scene was all about? Revenge? Getting back at Lucas any way he could?
She stood on shaky legs. “You’re both disgusting.” She stalked from the room.
Her strength lasted until she was inside her new guest bedroom, behind the door she carefully locked. She flung herself on the bed and cried.
How could she have been such an idiot? Why hadn’t she questioned David’s motives in playing up to her over dinner? What had made her give in to his seductively spoken request that she kiss him? She was easy pickings for an experienced seducer like David. He didn’t even have to try hard to win her eager compliance.
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