The last thing he heard as the door closed was her sultry laugh and a whispered, “You’ll be back. I know it.”
Oh, baby. You bet I will.
* * * * *
Maggie took a shower and thought about the handsome Scott Forrester. She really did like him. When he put aside the arrogant attitude he had a kind heart. He was fun to be around, smart, well spoken, even if he did say some very odd things. And he sizzled for her. Maggie felt it in every bone in her body.
If Scott sizzled, then Maggie burned. Never had she felt this kind of passion before. Just thinking of Scott put a stupid grin on her face. The water sluicing down her body electrified her causing her nipples to pucker. When had she become so sensitive that soft, wet drops aroused her? She rubbed her hands over her skin wishing they were Scott’s hands.
A small groan escaped Maggie and she pushed the erotic thoughts away. Focus on mundane ideas, Maggie girl. It was too bad, Maggie thought, that she had to use Scott to get Roger Morgan out of her life. She’d never played with another person’s emotions that way before and darts of doubt crawled through her. Scott was a nice man. If she hadn’t felt so desperate she wouldn’t even consider using him like this. She could tell he genuinely liked her. Most of the men she met only cared about her father’s money and getting to it through her. She hoped that a few pictures in the papers would be enough to have Roger feel he couldn’t marry a woman with loose morals.
Loose morals. Maggie snorted. She had more morals than anybody she knew in her mother and father’s circles. She was still a virgin and planned to stay that way. If only their friends could see Little Miss Prim and Proper now. They wouldn’t believe she was the same person.
Luckily, she had some time to “compromise” herself. As she rubbed cold cream on her face she planned her strategy. Her trip to Hollywood put enough distance between her and her father. She could take a week or two and get to know Scott. Dinners at restaurants frequented by famous actors and actresses should do it. Photographers always hung out where the rich and famous gathered. A kiss here, a touch there, a smoldering look…that’s all it’d take to have the news travel back east via the newspapers and humiliate her father and Roger Morgan. Her father would take the first train out to Hollywood when he saw a picture of her and Scott, but by then Roger would have moved on—thank goodness.
Done.
Maggie glanced at the satisfied smile on her face in the vanity mirror. She’d be done with Roger and able to resume her life, the way she wanted to live it. She patted her smooth cheeks, rubbed away the redness.
As she pulled on her dress she wished for one thing. If only she didn’t have to use the very handsome Scott Forrester to get out from under her father.
* * * * *
They walked to the commissary together. Maggie decided now was as good a time as any to implement her plan. She moved closer to Scott so their arms would brush while they walked. She “accidentally” stepped too close to him and stumbled. Scott steadied her with his hands on her waist. Oh, what a delicious feeling that was. Maggie wondered if Scott realized his hands tightened and caressed her tiny waist and stayed for a moment too long. She hoped she had the right amount of perfume on, something strong enough to entice, but not too strong. She’d chosen a floral scent that was light but seductive.
When they entered the room Maggie noticed a muscle ticking in Scott’s jaw. He looked as though he was gritting his teeth.
Good. She smiled to herself, hoping he was having trouble keeping his hands off her.
Scott marched over to the buffet table, grabbed a plate and piled scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes and toast on it. She chose the same foods, but in smaller amounts. Once they were seated with their plates and coffee Maggie said in a sweet voice, “Scott? Is something bothering you?”
“No.”
Maggie hid her smile. “You seem different, upset. What could have happened since you left to take a shower?” She ate small bites of her food and daintily dabbed at the corners of her mouth. After a sip of coffee, she glanced at him. “Umm.” She licked her lips leaving them wet and shiny. “This coffee tastes great today. How’s yours?”
“Fine.”
Maggie smothered the laugh that almost bubbled out. She could tell Scott didn’t want to look at her, but his eyes traveled to her face and immediately fell on her still wet lips. After a moment they darted away. With a suggestive shrug of her shoulders she lowered her voice, leaned forward and whispered, “Are you concerned about what people will think when they realize you spent the night in my trailer?”
She watched Scott’s Herculean effort not to spit out his coffee. For some reason the gesture endeared him to her.
“What?” He glanced around the room and leaned forward. “I don’t want Sid Goodman to think the wrong thing,” he whispered.
“Oh, he’s way over in that corner talking to those two people. He can’t hear us,” Maggie said as she waved her hand in Goodman’s direction.
“Yeah, but Chambers can. He’s only two tables over.” They both glanced at Carey Chambers. He glared at Scott and threw Maggie his million-dollar smile. Maggie watched Scott’s eyebrows lower and wanted to rub away the two little lines between them.
She smiled back at Chambers and gave Scott an exaggerated sigh. “He sure is good-looking. I have to pinch myself now and then. I really am in a movie with the famous Carey Chambers.”
“He won’t be so famous in a few years,” Scott mumbled.
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing,” Scott said.
The comment didn’t make any sense, Maggie thought. How would Scott know that Carey Chambers wouldn’t be famous in a few years? Maggie decided to let up on Scott for a while. She didn’t want to overdo it.
She glanced between the two men. In her opinion, no one was more handsome and dashing than Scott Forrester, fireman and hero.
* * * * *
This time the set was a train on a long track. The scene taking place had Scott’s character, Alex, having an argument with Chambers’ character, William, inside one of the train’s cars.
“Ready on the set!” shouted Damon Westerly. He turned and said, “Camera one start rolling, camera two move to the right and hold.”
As the train slowly rolled along the track inside the huge sound stage the cameras rolled next to it. The two actors began shouting at each other. Chambers’ shouts were slurred, Scott’s were harsh. Scott didn’t like Chambers and he knew the feeling was mutual. They waved their arms and pointed, their faces turned red from the exertion. Music played in the background and swelled as the argument turned into a fistfight.
At the peak of the fight, Maggie’s character, Susie, rushed into the room. “What are you doing?” she shouted. “Stop that!” Susie tried to pull the two men apart, but they ignored her and kept fighting.
“I’ll never give up the ranch, Alex. It’s mine,” William hollered.
“It was never yours, William. My father owned it and his father before him.”
The two men continued to fight, but somewhere along the way the fight turned personal to Scott and he gave Chambers a punch to the stomach. He didn’t hold back either. “This is for you trying to molest Maggie last night,” he murmured. He figured if the man was sloshed enough he wouldn’t even notice that the words had changed from the pre-scripted ones.
No one heard what Scott said to Chambers because the music had crescendoed to a loud pitch, but they all saw the air rush out of Chambers as he doubled over. He actually threw up a little.
“Cut!” Westerly roared. “What’s the matter with you Forrester? Didn’t they tell you to hold back on the punch?” Westerly didn’t let Scott reply. “Get Chambers some cold water, for God’s sake!”
Scott didn’t say anything. He knew he was supposed to hold back his punch but he couldn’t stop picturing Chambers in Maggie’s trailer trying to molest her. He felt a sense of satisfaction that he’d derailed Chambers and knew the man would know that Maggie Ing
ram had a protector.
Chambers staggered off the set and limped to his trailer. Scott lounged by a false front waiting to see what would happen next. It didn’t take long.
“Forrester, over here—now,” Westerly ordered.
Scott trotted to the director. “What’s up?”
Westerly narrowed his eyes and studied Scott. “Did something happen last night between you and Chambers? Seems to me there’s a bit of animosity between the two of you that hadn’t been there yesterday.”
Scott would never give away what’d happened, so he said, “Nope. Nothing. I think it’s just Carey’s state of mind. He’s drunk again. By the way, where does he get his liquor?”
Westerly lit a cigarette and waved it at Scott. “Don’t know and I don’t want to know. If it’s illegal I want no part of it. And because of Chambers’ drunkenness we’re going to shoot the scene on the train where Alex tries to reason with Susie. That ought to give him time to sober up.
“I want you to remember that in this scene Alex talks nicely to Susie and tries to keep his hands off her, but she’ll come on to him, pushing him past his limit.” Westerly pointed the cigarette in Scott’s face. “When the big kiss-a-roo scene happens it’ll be initiated by Susie. Alex will scoop up Susie and take her to a lounge chair on the train and start to make love to her. Got it?”
“Got it.” Scott’s whole body tightened at the thought that Maggie would initiate the love scene. He felt his fingers twitch and waves of desire pounded through him.
“Maggie darling, you ready for scene fifty-two?” Westerly hollered over his shoulder.
Maggie strolled out from behind the set. “I’m ready,” she whispered her eyes hot, staring straight into Scott’s.
The moan came out before Scott could stop it. His hands reached for Maggie as he strode nearer to her, like a moth to a flame. He stroked her soft cheek with one hand. The other went around her and lay at the small of her back. Scott leaned forward and inhaled her scent, something light, intoxicating. His body raged with desire but he forced his mind to concentrate on the upcoming scene.
That didn’t do any good, though. A scene about lovemaking wasn’t the best way to forget that he ached for Maggie. Every memory of last night poured through Scott. Each delicate snore, her light murmurs and the musical sound of her breathing touched every sensory nerve in Scott’s body. He didn’t even remember breakfast and that was only an hour ago. Scott had been so busy trying to control his raging emotions that he had no idea what he ate.
“Take your places, everyone!” Westerly yelled.
Scott helped Maggie onto the train. They took their places, Scott inside the car and Maggie outside the door waiting for her cue to enter.
“And…Action!”
Susie burst through the door with a look of anger on her face. She marched up to Alex who was pouring himself a bourbon, actually cold tea. He downed the drink, thumped the glass on the table and turned to Susie. “Come here to defend your brother?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” Susie lowered her eyes for a moment and stared at Alex’s crotch. She placed one finger up to her lips and ran it softly around the rim. Then she sucked the tip of her finger and placed it on Alex’s lips. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind about William running the ranch?”
All thought flew out of Scott’s mind. His erection was so hard he grunted in pain. The slight wetness that Maggie had left on his lips was sweet torture. He needed that drugging nectar, craved it, desired it. Scott stood rigid, every muscle in his body tense and waiting.
“What’s the matter, Alex? Afraid of me?” Susie leaned toward Alex. “I won’t hurt you, I promise,” she whispered. She ran that tantalizing finger down Alex’s cheek, dipped it into the hollow between his neck and collarbone then stopped and rubbed along the pronounced bone.
Tendrils of heat sparked under her finger and Alex gave in. He hauled Susie to his chest, lifted her face and paused with his mouth a breath away from hers.
Scott felt Maggie’s ragged breathing, inhaled her mint-scented breath and forgot to play the part of Alex. He captured her lips and thrust his tongue inside her mouth. The moan was heard throughout the whole studio. Every cameraman, grip, production assistant, prop man and even Damon Westerly stopped and held their breaths. No one had ever seen such a tension-filled scene.
Scott swept the inside of Maggie’s mouth with his tongue while he ran his hands up her straight back tangling them in her long hair. The softness of her hair equaled the velvety feel of the inside of her mouth. Lost to his raging passion, Scott never realized that the camera kept rolling.
Maggie hadn’t struggled. Her character was the one initiating the love scene, which put her at a distinct disadvantage, much to Scott’s delight. He pulled her closer, lifted her into his arms and carried her to a nearby lounge chair. He continued to kiss her as he lowered her to the soft cushion. Their tongues tangled and teased, tempted and tormented. Sharp desire raced through Scott.
At that moment Scott knew Maggie was the one. She felt right, completed him. He felt a passion he’d only dreamed of, and knew that Maggie returned the feeling with her own deep desire. He also knew that he could only have her under the guise of acting. Once the scene ended it would be back to the prim and proper mores of the times.
No one heard the clink of the train coming off the track, they were all so enthralled with the sexual tension burning between Scott and Maggie. Suddenly, the train lurched, jolted and began to fall to its side as it slid out of control.
Maggie screamed. Scott shouted.
The train slid along the ground sending sparks flying. The screeching of crumpling metal filled the hollow sound stage until the train came to the end of the track and crashed into the farthest wall.
The moment the train lurched off the track Scott and Maggie were thrown onto a table which crashed and broke into pieces. As the train continued to fall onto its side Maggie fell out of an open window with a wild scream. Scott knew the train would fall on her and he jumped out the window to save her. The hulking train tottered, then slowly fell toward them. Maggie screamed and screamed as she struggled to get up and run out of the way, but she was tangled in the long skirt of her costume. Scott grabbed Maggie by her collar and pulled with all his strength. He heard her gag from the collar strangling her as he hefted her up with two hands and yanked her away just as the train crashed onto its side.
Scott released the collar, hauled Maggie to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. He heard and felt the air rush back into her lungs as she gulped and struggled to fill her windpipe.
“Maggie…sweetheart. Are you all right?” Scott held her tight and rubbed her hair as he stroked her face.
“Ohmigod,” Maggie sobbed between gasps of air. “Ohmigod.”
“Honey, are you all right?” Scott repeated. He ran his hands up her arms, along her neck then down to her waist and finished by stroking along her legs. He wanted to be sure nothing was broken.
“The train…the train…almost killed us,” she ended on a broken whisper.
Tears ran down her cheeks and spilled onto Scott’s arms. “I know, love, but we’re fine.” Scott felt her shudders and heard Maggie take ragged breaths. “Come on, you need to sit down.” He helped her to the nearest chair and kneeled by her side, never taking his hands off her.
Suddenly there was a flurry of activity. “Forrester, Ingram, you two okay?” Westerly ran up to them. The train had crashed to a stop at the farthest end of the hangar-like building.
“We’re okay, Damon. Just a little shook up,” Scott said.
“Maggie, speak to me,” Westerly ordered.
“I’m… I’m…” Maggie burst into tears. She lowered her head onto Scott’s shoulder and sobbed.
“Forrester, take her to your trailer.”
“I will, Damon, but she needs a few minutes to collect herself. If you could keep everyone away that’ll help.”
“Consider it done,” Westerly stated. He turned and s
houted, “Jones! Carter! Find out what happened here. No one leaves the grounds. You hear me?” Then he hollered to everyone on the sound stage, “This accident will never happen again. The movie is suspended until I find out what happened and can be assured that all props and lights are safe to work with. No one goes home until we have answers—I don’t care if it takes all night! Guards will be posted at the door and the gates will be notified to not let anyone leave the studio. Does everyone understand?”
The men and women working on the movie The Gunslinger’s Wife stood shocked and silent. A few heads nodded up and down, frowns and lowered eyebrows were stamped on the men’s faces and the women in the room still had their hands covering their gaping mouths.
No one moved until Damon Westerly roared, “What’s with you people? I want answers and I want them now! Move!”
Scott bent to lift Maggie from the chair she sat slumped in.
“I’m not an invalid. I can walk.”
He watched her gather her emotions and her strength as she stood on wobbly legs. Scott steadied her for a moment then his arm fell away from her shoulder. He saw her eyes drift to the train’s twisted wreckage then dart away. Tears formed. Scott felt her effort to push them back deep in his still churning gut.
“I’ve had my tears,” she said. “The accident happened, now it’s time to move on.”
Pride filled him as he watched Maggie Ingram stand straight and tall, give him a weak smile then turn her back on the sound stage.
They walked out of the room into bright sunshine that blinded them for a minute. Maggie’s hand flew to cover her eyes as she gulped deep breaths and slowly walked to her trailer.
Scott let her lead the way until she headed to her door. “No. You’re coming to my trailer. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I can’t.”
“You will.” Scott left no room for argument.
He placed his hand on her elbow and with a firm touch guided her to his trailer. They entered the small room in silence. Maggie flopped onto the sofa and Scott grabbed a couple of Cokes out of the icebox. After popping the top with a bottle opener he handed one to Maggie. They drank the sweet liquid in silence. Scott finished his and put the empty bottle on the table. “Will you be all right?”
No Silent Christmas Page 6