Authors: Inara Scott
Until she could get Ryker to buy in, nothing else
mattered.
“Finally,” Lena grumbled. “Something that makes sense.”
Jake glared at Lena. “Can’t you even be civil? She’s
trying to save your movie, you know.”
“Oh, so now it’s my movie, is it? I thought this was all
about you,” Lena replied acidly.
Ryker hesitated for a minute, obviously debating the
benefits of spending the hour yelling at the actors versus letting everyone get
a little bit of distance. Finally, he turned to Alix. “A break would be a good
idea. Take an hour, everyone,” he called. “We’ll start back at two.”
Jake and Lena wandered off the set together, still
arguing. Alix stretched her arms over her head and yawned. Being around the two
of them was absolutely exhausting. They bounced off each other with a restless
energy that was all the more infuriating because it could have been so powerful
had it been appropriately directed. Instead it was wasted on bickering and
twisted sexual tension hidden behind a cloud of fear and frustration.
“So, what did you have in mind?”
The deep voice startled her, and she dropped her arms
abruptly, realizing the bare skin of her stomach was exposed. Three days hadn’t
done much to chill the desire that Ryker inspired. If only she could have
maintained the outrage he’d stirred up with his initial assumptions about her
ability to help, perhaps things would have been fine. But her anger had faded
all too quickly. As much as she wanted to hate him, once they settled down to
work together, he had become the consummate professional. He treated her with
respect, though he clearly disagreed with her suggestions. He focused with
single-minded intensity on the movie, as if he could make things better by
sheer force of will. He cajoled and intimidated but was never disrespectful.
For the first time in a long time, Alix was excited to get
up and go to work in the morning.
The problem was her damned libido.
Every time Ryker bent over and she was forced to view his
perfect backside, outlined by those should-be-illegal pants, her stomach
quivered. When he flashed that ironic smile, the one that seemed to reflect
some deep inner humor, she found herself furiously speculating about what was
really happening behind his dark eyes. Then he’d touch her hand or stand closer
than was absolutely necessary and send her back into a tizzy.
“Oh, I thought maybe we’d…” Alix struggled to get her mind
back to the present. “Maybe we could get outside a little? Go for a walk?”
“Walk? You mean, leave the studio?” A slow smile creased
the hard lines of Ryker’s face. “What a novel concept.”
“I tend to walk a lot when I’m stuck,” Alix admitted. “But
I guess that makes more sense when you live on the beach.”
“I do the same. If it didn’t take an hour just to get
there, I’d say we should go back to my place.”
“You live on the ocean?” Alix asked.
Ryker nodded. “First thing I did when I made a little
money—bought a place with private beach access up the coast in Malibu.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“I’ll have to take you there some time.”
Alix’s heart fluttered nervously. She was not going to get
involved with Ryker, she reminded herself firmly, steeling her eyes not to
linger on his lean hips. His dark eyes grew knowing as she took a half step
back. “Uh, sure,” she said, forcing a calm smile. “Maybe when we’re done
filming.”
He chuckled. “Chicken.”
She felt the color steal into her cheeks. With one word,
he put her back into the viewing room with his lips on her shoulder, and her
body flushed with heat.
“Ryker, you’re not…” She trailed off as his eyes flicked
from her face to her chest and then back.
“Alix, did you know that when you blush, you turn pink all
the way down to your collarbones?” he said, his voice conversational.
It occurred to her that going off the studio grounds might
not be a good idea after all. “You know, we’ve got a lot to talk about. Maybe
we should just stay here.”
Ryker shook his head. “Wildwood Canyon is only ten minutes
away. We won’t have time for a long walk, but at least we’ll get away from
that.” He gestured toward Jake and Lena, who were still glaring at each other,
even as they grabbed lunch from the catering table.
“All right,” she said, wishing with all her might that she
could take back her hasty suggestion.
Despite her fears, Ryker didn’t make any further
suggestive remarks as they headed out of the studio. With the same casual
chivalry he’d shown when they went to dinner together, he opened the door of
his car for her, waited until she had seated herself, and then closed it gently
behind.
Alix forced herself to relax into the smooth leather seat
of the cherry-red Mercedes. The car had two seats, a sleek mahogany instrument
panel, and a long front end. Something about it made her feel like she was
driving off to see the premier of a Gene Kelly film.
The sun bathed her skin in a gentle warmth, and Alix
rolled down her window to let the breeze in as they pulled out of the parking
lot. She rested her head against the seat and tried not to think about how
close Ryker was and how intimate the tiny space between them.
“What kind of car is this?” she asked, uncomfortable with
the silence. “I mean, besides a Mercedes.”
“It’s a 1960 300 SL Roadster.”
“Wow,” she said, trying to sound as if that meant
something to her.
He slid her a sideways glance as they accelerated onto the
highway. “I don’t really know anything about cars either,” he said. “I just
think it looks cool.”
Alix laughed, and her shoulders slowly relaxed. “I thought
all men knew something about cars. Isn’t that programmed into the Y chromosome?
Cars and sports?”
“If so, I may be a double X in disguise,” he said. “I
never had much interest in either.”
“Really? You weren’t quarterback for your high school
football team?”
“I spent most of my youth dodging the police and my
stepfather, both of which sent me to the movie theater. By the time I hit high
school, I was saving money for acting classes. Sports were for other kids. I
didn’t have time.”
She studied him through her lashes, his profile a mix of
hard, rigid planes and a mouth twisted with wry humor. She realized that that
combination seemed to define him—darkness and humor.
“What was your favorite?” she asked impulsively. “Favorite
movie, I mean.”
He shrugged. “It didn’t matter to me. Anything with car
chases and explosions, when I was young. My mother dragged me to some of the
better films when I got a little older. I suppose my all-time favorite would
have to be
Citizen Kane
, and of course anything by Hitchcock. What about
you?”
Alix considered for a moment. “I can’t say I really have
one favorite. That seems to change by the season. I think Ingmar Bergman may be
my all-time favorite director, though lately I’ve been partial to Almodóvar.”
Ryker shook his head sadly. “I should have known.”
Alix giggled. “Too romantic for you?”
He snorted. “What do you think?”
They chatted easily, and Alix forgot about her nerves and
fear of being alone with him. Ryker handled the car with careless precision,
one hand resting loosely on the gearshift, long fingers tapping idly on the
steering wheel. They rode slowly through the stately, residential houses at the
edge of Burbank and then turned up a narrow road into one of the steep canyons
that led to the Verdugo Mountains. After a mile or so, they turned into the
park. A small gatehouse marked the entrance. The road climbed up into the
canyon, winding past a number of picnic tables set amid tall sycamores and pine
trees, fragrant in the warm afternoon sun.
They parked in a small lot at the end of the road. Ryker
slid on a pair of dark glasses and jammed a dark brown fedora on his head.
“A fiendishly good disguise,” Alix said, straight-faced.
Ryker looked at her over the top of his glasses. “You’d
never recognize me, right?”
She laughed. “I never recognized you in the first place,
remember?”
The path was narrow and dusty, hard-packed yellow sand and
loose rocks. Alix pulled off her sweatshirt and tied it around her waist, sweat
beading up on her forehead as they left the shade of the tall trees and
ventured out under the bright sun. The path had been carved into the side of
the canyon, steep and winding, with the vista of the city spread out in front
of them and the canyon walls rising at their backs. The air was warm and still,
birds twittering from steel-gray sage and the hardy, desert vegetation that thrived
along the canyon walls. There had been two other cars in the parking lot, but
the trail was empty and quiet, save for the crunch of the gravel beneath their
feet.
The studio seemed a million miles away.
Alix held her arms at her sides, acutely aware that the
narrow trail had them practically touching, their bodies mere inches apart.
“So how are we going to make this work?” Ryker said
suddenly.
Alix cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“We’re coming at this movie from opposite sides. How do we
bring it together?”
She paused, surprised that he had brought up the very
issue she’d been dancing around. “It’s your movie,” she said carefully. “I’m
just trying to do what you hired me to do. I can’t make you believe in
something you think is nonsense. On the other hand, if I can’t get you to
suspend your beliefs, I’m not sure we’re going to get anywhere.”
He did not respond. Alix wondered if she had been too
direct, but when she dared a look at his face, he seemed thoughtful, not angry.
They walked in silence, their shoes crunching on the sandy trail.
They followed the path until they came to a fork, one
route continuing up into the mountains, the other following along the top of a
ridge before dipping back toward the road in a series of steep switchbacks.
Ryker motioned toward the ridge, and they continued until they reached a small
clearing. Alix stopped to catch her breath and then noticed a couple a few
hundred yards ahead of them, several switchbacks below. They were facing each
other, and the man held the woman’s face in his hands. Alix stared, instantly
captivated by the emotion plainly evident in her eyes.
“Wishing you had your camera?” Ryker whispered.
“Hush,” Alix responded.
The man lowered his head and kissed the woman; it was a
long, slow kiss that started with her mouth and trailed down her neck. His arms
wound around her body and settled on her bottom. He pulled her tightly against
him, and she gave a soft cry of delight.
Ryker checked behind them and shuffled his feet
uncomfortably. “Alix, don’t you usually get permission first?”
She frowned, eyes not leaving the man and woman. “They’re
in a public park. They don’t mind.”
“Really? I thought—”
Alix waved him quiet. “Look at how he’s touching her,” she
said. “Can you see how he adores her? How he’s completely focused on her?”
Ryker turned reluctantly back to the couple. “I see that
he’s risking being arrested for public indecency. Kids use this park, you
know.”
Alix glared at him. “Look at them,” she ordered. “Look at
them and then think about our movie. They are completely lost in each other.
That’s what we need Jake and Lena to do. Lose themselves in each other. Can’t
you see how she’s yielding to him? How she uses her body to tell him she wants
him?”
The man dipped his face into the woman’s neck and then
looked up again to meet her gaze. He murmured something Alix couldn’t hear, but
the words hardly mattered. The woman’s eyes shone, and she nodded and smiled.
The man trailed the back of his hand along her cheek and then across her
breast. Her eyes closed, and she arched her back.
“Watch him caress her,” Alix whispered. “Watch her respond
with her whole body. They are communicating on every level right now, body and
mind.”
Ryker was silent. They watched for another moment, Ryker
peering nervously over his shoulder every few minutes.
“Alix, it’s not going to do either of us any good to end
up on the cover of a tabloid watching a couple make out in the park.”
Reluctantly, she nodded, and he gave a warning cough as
they started forward again. The couple barely moved as Alix and Ryker walked
past, their bodies draped against each other.
Ryker continued down the path, Alix following a few paces
behind, careful not to accidentally come in contact with him.
“You watch that sort of thing all the time?” Ryker asked.
He looked back up the trail to the spot where they had seen the couple, though
it was hidden now from view by the thick vegetation.
“I’m probably a little too liberal with it,” Alix
admitted, brushing the sweat from her forehead. “There are some who get annoyed.”
“But you’re absolutely comfortable with it. With watching,
I mean?”
“It’s beautiful,” she said simply, her gaze drawn back by
his soft voice. “I hate that people don’t get to look at that beauty. Why
should we look away just because people are expressing love for each other?”
Ryker paused in the trail, considering her words. “And
that’s what you want our movie to look like?”
Alix nodded. “That’s it.”
He looked into her eyes, and Alix felt herself being
searched, measured. She wanted to lean forward and touch the brown skin exposed
at the neck of his shirt but instead jammed her hands into her pockets and
turned away.
He pulled her back with a gentle tug to her arm. “Okay, I
get it. That’s what you want it to look like. But what’s it supposed to
feel
like, Alix? Can you help me with that?”
It took only the time for her to
catch her breath before his lips swooped down to capture hers. And it took only
that breath for Alix to lose control of all her convictions and dissolve under
the heat of that kiss. Her arms, traitorous pair, wound themselves around his
neck. He was tall enough that she had to stand on tiptoe, and that movement
sent her off-balance, leaning into him and inadvertently pressing her body
along the length of his.