First Take (Star-Taken) (2 page)

TWO

Rachel blinked hard as heat flared across her skin. Same high cheekbones. Same almost perfectly straight nose. Same sculpted jaw. It couldn’t possibly be, but it so was.

Embarrassment battled with excitement
. While she’d humored him and thought about including him in the rest of her plans, she’d also been annoyed at his presence and how it reminded her she was alone on her special day. But now, all she wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders and demand he kiss her like he had the leading lady. She fisted her hands and resisted the urge.

“So would it be possible that you’d like some company, birthday girl?”
He rocked on his heels, and her gaze skittered past the dark gray, cotton T-shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest, down faded jeans molded to muscular thighs, and ended at his casual walking shoes.

A tweak to her fantasies was needed. She’d always pictured him as a running shoe kind of guy.
Yeah, detail-oriented gal that she was, she dressed her dream dates from head to toe.

She licked her lips and swallowed twice to moisten her dry throat.
Be cool, Rach.
This was the real Stephen Raymond, not the ideal one she could control in her head. “Why would you want to spend the evening with a random stranger?”

He chuckled
and pushed the brim of his baseball cap higher to reveal sparkling green-hazel eyes. Then with a shrug, he said, “Maybe I’d like to get your opinion of my acting skills. You’re pretty no-nonsense.”

She shifted
her weight from one wedge-heel clad foot to the other. Yep, “No-nonsense” was her middle name according to her most recent ex, Paul, but that wasn’t the same as “No sense.” “I’m sure you have tons of people willing to give you their opinions.” She might be a fan, and she might have her fantasies, but she wasn’t a groupie.

Not th
at this scenario wasn’t suspiciously close to how one of her fantasies started, but she needed time to merge the fantasy with this reality. What if he turned out to be the world’s biggest jerk? Movie star or no, she’d had enough of jerks.

A smile kicked up
one corner of his mouth and her stomach did a little flip-flop. “Guess I should have said ‘honest opinion.’”

“I can do honest.”
Ask Paul.
No doubt her ex would be all too happy to share how she’d chased him away with her too harsh criticism of his lack of ambition and drive. He’d never understood why she couldn’t happily let him mooch off her while he sat on his ever-increasing ass day by day playing online games. “Research” he’d called it. However, one couldn’t create a video game without cracking open a development platform. Not unless some new form of programming had appeared that she didn’t know about.

She shook her head.
Whatever.
I’m so over his freeloading ass. Have been for six months now.

He frowned.
“So, you can’t do honest?”

Don’t blow this, Rach.

She forced a laugh. “No. I can. I was…”
stupidly thinking of my ex instead of focusing on you
. That truth wouldn’t do. “I was wondering if I’d filled up on popcorn.” While not technically true, it was something she had to watch out for, hence the small popcorn.

He smiled. “Great. Then
what do you say to grabbing a bite to eat?”

Had she imagined the look of relief that crossed his face?
Stephen tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, thrusting his shoulders out and upward, adding to the too-large-for-life appearance of his. Why would he have cared if she said yes or no to his offer?

Stop over-thinking this, woman.

Well, if she wanted to blend fantasy with reality, what better way than eating in front of said fantasy? Nothing said normal like the challenge of sharing a meal with someone you wanted to impress without making a mess. “I was planning on heading to the little sushi joint a couple of blocks over.”

Maybe she should’ve picked
somewhere else, but sushi was what she wanted for her birthday dinner. She’d just have to be super careful with the chopsticks and the soy sauce because if her middle name wasn’t “No-nonsense” then her family would surely argue it was “Mess.”

His eyes widened.
“The one with the giant blowfish in the tank by the bar?”

She raised her eyebrows.
“You know it?”

He nodded.
“Oh yeah. Best sushi on the island.”

A silly wave of giddiness struck her.
He had the same taste in sushi that she did, though she had to admit she hadn’t tried every restaurant in Manhattan, like his words implied he had. This one was her favorite, not only because of its proximity to the movie theater and her place, but it also had the freshest fish around. Her ideal date was a good flick followed by a seaweed salad, shaggy dog roll, and salmon sashimi. Since the salad and roll often left bits in her teeth, she might have to reconsider her usual order.
Don’t want too much realism.

“After you, birthday girl.”
He bowed and her gaze riveted to the play of corded muscles in his forearm.

What would they feel like dancing under her fing
ers? She repressed a shiver.

Focus, Rachel.
She’d never make it through dinner if her thoughts slewed toward touching him.

Heading
for the main doors, she couldn’t have been more conscious of each step. Thank God she wasn’t one of those short, fashion-conscious women who wore stilettos to gain height. Wedges accomplished the same thing and were so much easier to walk in, especially with her knees all wobbly from proximity to Mr. Raymond.

When she reached the door, she
paused and inhaled a steadying breath. Would he evaporate in the light of the day? Had some magic genii granted her birthday wish of Stephen as a movie date, but the fantasy was bound to the building? She almost chuckled at the ridiculous thoughts.

She
pushed open the heavy door to the real world. The summer heat rolled through the ever-increasing gap. “Man, I can’t wait for fall.”

Stephen
shot his very real, non-vapor-like arm over her head to hold open the door while they exited the theater. “It’s the best time of year to be in New York.”

S
tepping onto the pavement, she nodded. While some people had the odd idea that because northeastern winters involved snow, the summers were cooler, that just wasn’t the case. The skyscrapers trapped the heat and humidity until it smothered the streets and the people on them. When it came to sticky-hot, New York City in the summer was little different than Houston, the big city that cast its shadow over her small hometown of Richmond. An errant breeze caught the hem of her flirty, layered skirts and sent them dancing across her knees, but the stifling heat of the air did nothing to cool her.

He released the door
once they’d cleared it, and a second later, it slammed shut with a
clang.
The echo was drowned by the masses of people on the sidewalks, most probably on their way home from work or whatever daytime outing occupied their time. Tomorrow she’d return to her regular schedule as well, nine-to-five behind a desk, while Stephen would no doubt be enjoying what had to be downtime between filming. Another reminder that however real Stephen’s presence was beside her, their worlds were miles apart.

She smiled. But then, the more different the birthday present, the better the memories.

Making small talk, though Rachel couldn’t say about what, they walked the two blocks to the restaurant. Questions swirled in her head. Would someone recognize him? Would they wonder what he was doing with her, who she even was? Would paparazzi follow them and wait outside the sushi place while they ate? That would only add to the surreal nature of this whole afternoon.

In her fantasies, she’d always pictured herself smiling and nodding if they got waylaid. Friendlier seemed like a better way to be, though some of the cameramen were known for aggressiveness. Th
ose she thought best to ignore.

Stephen’s tabloid shots normally made him appear uncaring of the intrusion on his life, but the photos of him were also few and far between. Maybe he blended into the crowd. In which case, that made her the perfect camouflage. He could use her anytime.

Heat flared to life between her thighs. Her step and breath hitched as arousal slammed into her. Uh-oh, she was in trouble, but it was too late to back out now. Besides, it was just dinner.

Without incident
, which was unsurprising really, they arrived at the restaurant. She hardly ever looked at the faces in the crowd when she was intent on a destination, why should she expect others to be any different? People had their own lives after all. They had to get home for dinner, meet friends for after-work dinks, hit the gym, or any of a hundred different things that would occupy their attention as they walked the streets.

When
she entered the restaurant, the air-conditioned temperature raised goose bumps along her arms. She rubbed them as Stephen greeted the hostess, who smiled and nodded before leading them to a corner table away from the windows and shielded from view of most of the restaurant by a screen.

He really must come here often.
Rachel paused even as Stephen held out a chair. “Normally, I eat at the sushi bar.” She liked watching the chef prepare the food. It was a fine art.

“I
like to as well, but it’s not quite as easy to talk.” He started to push the chair back in. “However, it is your birthday.”

She stayed his arm.
Electricity shot through her fingers as she experienced the dance of those rock-hard muscles. Yanking her hand back did nothing to dampen the tingles zinging through her. Ducking her head as heat washed up her neck, she said, “Never mind. This is fine.”

He pulled the chair
back out and she slid onto the hard wood. He was right, facing forward at the bar wasn’t as conducive to conversation, but she still couldn’t believe he cared one way or another about her opinion of his acting. Until that moment, she’d half thought maybe he was just one of those people who didn’t like eating alone. If that had been the case, surely he wouldn’t have cared where they sat. As it was, she wasn’t sure how good of a dinner partner she’d be. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth.

Busying herself preparing her chopsticks, she focused on steadying her breathing and slowing her racing pulse.
Dinner. This is just dinner. Nothing more.
She wouldn’t make it through the meal if she thought anything else.

H
is chair creaked as he settled onto it, and she looked up to meet his gaze. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Her heart stuttered.
That sounded more like a genuine “getting to know you” date question. She slid her hands underneath the table and wiped them on her skirts, hiding her discomfort with a half smile. “I thought you wanted my opinion of your acting.”

F
olding his hands together on the table, he leaned forward. With a shrug of those too-impressive shoulders, he said, “The more I know about you, the more weight your opinion will hold.” He winked, her breath hitched, and she was a goner.

He was perfect, a gentleman who cared about her thoughts and wanted to get to know her
—her fantasy Stephen Raymond in the flesh. Did that mean the date would end like it did in her fantasies, with bare skin, heated kisses, and lots of moaning and groaning?

~ * ~

THREE

Two hours later and the combination of his charm as well as too much sake and sushi, including all those things she’d worried about getting stuck in her teeth, had her ready to drape herself across him. He’d coaxed her into giving up most of her secrets. She’d confessed each of her embarrassing moments from attending high school in a small town, where nothing was really a secret, to going to college in Houston, where she’d exalted in the anonymity of a large school. He’d drawn out her entire life story before delving into her likes and dislikes then her dreams and hopes, both of which involved travel in some form or fashion.

She’d shared it all. But he’d had yet to ask
her opinion of his acting skills. Aside from her fantasies about him, he now knew almost everything about her; but she also knew some of the same for him. Details that went beyond his online biographies and random interviews she’d read. Things like his parents taking off when he’d turned sixteen, only reappearing after his first big hit. He’d paid for his mother’s unsuccessful cancer treatments and shared how after her death, his dad had disappeared again, turning up dead from an overdose a year later. How he’d managed to keep those private details a secret was beyond her, but the fact that he shared them with her drew her further into the web of attraction holding her captive.

Sitting back in his chair, he laid his chopsticks across his plate. “I don’t know why I told you that stuff. It’s gotta be a downer, and this is your birthday.”

Rachel fought the urge to cover his hand, offering a soft smile instead. “Life’s not always easy, and it’s certainly not picture-perfect. The roles you’ve chosen to play certainly show that, and it’s nice seeing you’re as real as your characters. That’s a wonderful gift to give anyone.” Emotion closed her throat, and she shrugged, unable to say anything else, even if she’d known what else to say.

His eyes darkened with unnamed emotion, and her stomach knotted. What was he thinking? He opened his mouth, but the waitress appeared with the bill and his expression cleared as he smiled at the woman. “Thank you.”

She nodded and left.

He pulled out his wallet. “My treat for the birthday girl,” he said
, placing a credit card on top of the tab. The waitress immediately re-appeared to carry the bill away.

Un-inclined to argue,
Rachel smiled. “Thank you.” Somewhere through the long dinner filled with interesting conversation, the world of fantasy and reality had merged. If this were a real date, then she wouldn’t have stopped him from paying. Thanks to the attentive waitress, Rachel didn’t know what was going on in Stephen’s head, but, at the very least, given all they’d shared over dinner, surely they were more than strangers.

When the woman reappeared with the receipt, h
e signed it with a quick stroke of the pen then folded his copy and slipped it into his wallet. “Ready?” he asked with a sexy half smile.

Ready for what?
she wanted to ask but didn’t dare. Though she wasn’t ready for their time together to end, she stood. A pleasant lethargy weighed her limbs. What would he do if she circled his neck with her arms and tilted her head back for a kiss? When he stepped close, she gave in to the need to touch him and, smiling shyly, placed a hand on the solid wall of his chest. “Thanks again for dinner.”

Her breath caught at the heat that flared in his gaze. He rubbed a finger along her bare elbow and goose bumps that had nothing to do with the AC decorated her arms.
“No one should have to spend their birthday alone.”

She swallowed hard against
the lump of emotion that lodged in her throat. Given his background, he’d probably spent more than one birthday alone, but she couldn’t go back and comfort him then, and she wasn’t sure he wanted her comfort now.

When she shook her head to clear the sadness and uncertainty, she
teetered slightly. He placed a warm hand at the small of her back, and a shiver shimmied along her spine. Curled her fingers into the soft material of his shirt, she leaned into him until her shoulder rested against his arm. The heat from his body mixed with his clean, spicy scent tempted her to lay her head on his shoulder.

Her voice hardly more than a whisper, she said,
“I think I had one too many cups of sake.” Not entirely true. She was just as drunk on his proximity and the charged emotions running through her.

When he frowned, h
is brows drew together and she fought the urge to smooth away the resulting creases. “I shouldn’t have let you finish that last cup.”

He shouldn’t have let her? The man had a strong compulsion to look after people, negligent parents and
new acquaintances included, it seemed. However, she didn’t want him to lump her into the same category as his family. Disappointment blanketed her, and she wished she could rewind to before her too-much-sake comment.

Not knowing how to get the moment back,
she straightened. “As soon as I get some air, I’ll be fine.” Offering a hesitant smile, she said, “Besides, it’s my birthday, and what fun is a birthday without throwing some caution to the wind?”

He closed
his much bigger hand around hers. If not for the tingles tickling up her arm, she’d have called his warm grip comforting. “True. Still I’d like to see you home if you don’t mind.”

Well, double damn.
She should’ve known her comment would only send them farther down the I-want-to-make-sure-you’re-safe road. She forced a smile. “That’s nice of you, but I don’t live far, just a couple of blocks away really.”

As soon as the words were out, she wished she could recall them, but her ever-practical side knew s
he needed to put some distance between them, clear her head and get some perspective. She was topsy-turvy over the real Stephen Raymond. Now that she’d seen the real man, she wanted to get closer to him. Close as in him pinning her to the brick facade of the building, hoisting her leg to his hip, and plundering her mouth with a deep kiss.

Keep dreaming, Rach. He’s just being kind.

He twined their fingers together and smiled. “Then I won’t have far to escort you, will I?”

Her ins
ides turned to mush even though she told herself he was concerned about her safety and nothing more. It didn’t look like he was eager to be anywhere other than there, with her; but yeah, a couple of blocks weren’t too far at all. “Too bad,” she mumbled as they wound through the restaurant to the door.

“What was that?” he asked
while holding open the door.

She shook her head.
“Nothing.”

R
elax and enjoy the walk home, Rach.

She
should bask in the clasp of his hand and let her imagination run wild, though really just the feel of his skin on hers was blanking her ability to think. The skin of his palm was callused, which jarred with the pampered movie star image; but then again, given the history he’d shared, pampered wasn’t something he’d ever been. Besides, he was an action hero.

I
wouldn’t mind seeing him in action in my bed.
Her mouth dried up. Thank God, he didn’t seem inclined to talk. Maybe she drank more sake than she’d intended. Normally, her baser instincts didn’t run roughshod over her logical side. Then again, it wasn’t everyday a woman discovered the man she fantasized about was pretty durn wonderful in real life.

By the
time they reached her block, lust from the simple act of holding hands boiled her blood. She’d probably burst into flame at full, skin-to-skin, thigh-to-shoulder closeness. Not that it was a possibility.

But why c
an’t it be?
her long-neglected libido asked. It was her birthday after all. Shouldn’t she get a wish?

What would he say i
f she invited him up to her place? Was the whole dinner an act so he could get laid? The emotion had felt genuine, but then again he was an actor. Or did he truly just intend to see her safely home?

Did she really care?
Shouldn’t she at least attempt to seize the opportunity to live out a complete fantasy date—movie, dinner, and a night of amazing sex?

T
he fresh, albeit stifling, breeze stirred her logical side into action. Hopping from thought to thought was crazy. The only way to get answers was to ask the questions. But that didn’t mean she had to get straight to the point. “So, I never did tell you what I thought of your acting.”

The slight swing of their joined hands hitched. Then a
fter a brief pause, he said, “No. No, you didn’t.”

Given t
he way he dragged out the first no, did he not want to hear her opinion anymore? She shrugged. “If you don’t want to know…”

Maybe he’d never cared about it. Maybe he’d just been lonely and looking for company. Would that make him more inclined to accept an invitation to her apartment
?

He studied her for a moment then took a deep breath
and weaved his fingers tighter through hers. “I do.”

Was Stephen Raymond
lonely
and
insecure? Her chances of getting lucky looked better and better.

Still, she’d promised him
an honest opinion. “Well, I think you’re a superb action hero. You excel in roles requiring deadpan delivery of lines, so you could probably do straight-faced comedy if you wanted to. I know action generally draws more box office receipts, but I actually prefer your earlier dramatic works.”

And t
hat was the best she could do without sounding like a giggly fan. She really did enjoy his movies. While the thoughts going around in her head about him and her doing the horizontal mambo might rank her near stalker level, as a person whose reputation relied on word-of-mouth praise, she knew how valuable an honest critique was. You couldn’t improve your performance and land new clients if you didn’t know there was a flaw in your product.

“So do you think I have a limited range of expressions? Does deadpan mean emotionless? Do I make a believable romantic lead?”

With each question, he’d tightened his hold even further until she couldn’t feel her fingertips. Had he taken to heart what the critics said about this latest movie?

She wiggled her fingers until his loosened
then twisted her head to offer a soft smile as their gazes met. “Like I said at the theater, the relationship developed true to the story line and the characters. I’d hardly call you emotionless.” And given the family history he’d shared, he wasn’t heartless. Maybe he hid behind the mask to protect himself.

They arrived
at her front steps. “This is me.”

He didn’t drop her hand. “You didn’t answer whether I make a believable romantic lead.”

Her heart stuttered at the brightness of the green in his eyes. Was the color significant? She’d never noticed a dramatic change when watching his movies, but then his eyes weren’t what she focused on. What did he want from her? Surely not the same thing she wanted from him.

When she moistened her lips, his gaze dropped to follow her tongue, and she cleared her throat to cover a small whimper of need.
“You’ve been a very charming date. I’m sure if you had a role that required more emotion, you’d have no problem rising to the occasion.”

Oh God, her thoughts of him and a bed were coloring her speech
and left her wanting to pin him against one of the concrete columns flanking the front steps.

That sexy one-sided smile appeared
. “Date, huh? Does that mean I get a goodnight kiss?”

Her pulse quickened.
“Do you want to kiss me goodnight?” She bit back a groan. Why hadn’t she just said yes?

He met her gaze again.
His enlarged pupils completely obscured the brown flecks and emphasized the bright green of his eyes. She’d love to spend more time with him to figure out what that color meant. Nerves twisted her belly. She was pretty sure she knew what the enlarged pupils indicated. Was she brave enough to seize the opportunity?

“
I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. However,” he stepped back, “if you’d rather I not, I understand. We did just meet after all.”

Except it felt like
she’d known him forever.

Don’t be stupid, Rach. How many women ever get to go on a date with their fantasy man, much less end it with a kiss?
Stop questioning everything.

Just one more question: does
it have to end with a kiss?

~ * ~