Just Another Pretty Face (HT 459) (9 page)

"Andie MacDowell is a happily married woman," Pierce said easily, showing absolutely no sign that he hated those kinds of personal questions. "And I'm involved with someone else. Someone," he added with a grin, "who wouldn't like it if I talked about our relationship on national television."

Nikki, along with every other woman in the viewing audience, wondered just who the lucky woman was while Arsenio Hall thanked his guest for appearing on the show.

* * *

PIERCE HANDED his keys to the parking valet and took Nikki's hand in his. "I thought we'd start out slow," he said, explaining his choice of Chasen's over the more trendy Mortons or Spago for dinner. "We need to get used to being seen in public together. And we need to agree to some ground rules before we go inside," he added, as they headed toward the entrance to one of the favorite restaurants of Hollywood's old guard.

"Ground rules?" Nikki said skeptically. "What kind of ground rules? Why?"

"So you don't try to give me a karate chop to the neck if I put my arm around you."

Nikki shot him a sidelong look. "I didn't realize you were planning to put your arm around me."

"I'm not planning it," he said, although that was exactly what he was planning. That and anything else she'd let him get away with. "But it might happen naturally in the course of the evening."

She gave him a wry look. "During dinner?"

He sighed. Deeply. "We're supposed to be fostering the impression that we're having the hottest romance of the decade," he said in an aggrieved voice. "Under those circumstances I don't think an occasional hug is out of line." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye in an effort to gauge her reaction to his next words. "You might even try hugging me back."

"What about the woman you're involved with? How is she going to feel about all this public fondling of a woman who isn't her?"

Pierce came to a stop in front of the door to the restaurant, pulling Nikki to a halt beside him. "What woman are you talking about?"

"The one who wouldn't like it if you talked about your relationship on national television. I hardly think she'd like it any better if it got back to her that you were snuggling up to some woman in a fancy restaurant."

Pierce grinned, pleased by her reaction to the thought of another woman. "Oh,
that
woman."

Nikki arched a brow. "Yes,
that
woman."

Pierce shrugged. "She's nobody for you to worry about."

"Nobody for me to—" she began indignantly.

"She's a figment of my imagination," Pierce said. And it was almost true. The relationship he wanted with Nikki was still only a figment of his imagination. "A convenient ruse to stop people from asking questions that are none of their business."

Nikki considered that for a moment. "Oh. Okay," she decided, trying not to reveal the sense of euphoria that suddenly swamped her.
The other woman isn't real!
"I'll buy that," she said with a casual attempt at a shrug.

"So we're agreed then?"

"On what?"

"The ground rules. We'll hold hands. I'll hug you once or twice. I might even throw in a kiss if it seems warranted. A little kiss," he added quickly, before she could object. "Like this." He lifted their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed the back of her wrist. "See? No big deal."

"No big deal," Nikki echoed, trying to make her wildly beating heart believe it as they stood there in front of Chasens, staring at each other as if they were the only two people in the world.

"Excuse me," said a deep masculine voice.

Pierce looked up. "Mr. Peck," he said respectfully, stepping out of the other man's way. "How are you, sir?"

"Very well, thank you, Pierce," the legendary actor said with a dignified nod. There was an amused glint in his eyes. "Carry on," he said as he stepped around them and continued into the restaurant.

Nikki clutched at Pierce's hand. "That was Gregory Peck," she said in an excited little voice. "You said hello to Gregory Peck. He knew your name."

"He's an old friend of my parents. I've known him since I was a little kid."

"I saw him and your mother in
Vow of Silence
when I was fifteen," Nikki said in a hushed voice. "I thought it was the saddest, most romantic movie I'd ever seen. I still do." She sighed. "Gregory Peck. I can't believe it. Gregory Peck knows who you are." She gave Pierce a teasing grin. "I'm really impressed."

"If you like, I'll introduce you," Pierce said, as if he were offering her a bribe. "Later. After I see how well you follow the ground rules."

6

P
IERCE
K
INGSTON'S
hot new romance was hot news the very next morning.

The
Star
had somehow gotten hold of the picture that had been taken in the garden room by the photographer from
People
and enlarged it to cover most of the front page. It showed Pierce's face clearly, but Nikki, lying under him with her head buried in his shoulder, was identified only as "an exotic, dark-haired mystery woman" who had moved in with him after a whirlwind romance. Much was made of the fact that "legendary ladies' man, Pierce Kingston," had never had a live-in lover, and wedding bells, it was hinted, had already rung over the pair in a hush-and-hurry Las Vegas ceremony.

The
National Enquirer
had to make do with less titillating photographs snapped the previous evening as Pierce and Nikki were coming out of Chasen's but they had her name—and a grainy snapshot of her in her MP's uniform. The headline, at least an inch high, read The Star And The Soldier. After giving the highlights of her four-year career in the marines and lauding her "heroic contributions to the American effort in the recent Gulf War," it went on to give the purported details of her current romance with Hollywood's sexiest leading man. The tabloid had decided she was a stunt-woman—an occupation she had tried when she first moved to Los Angeles and quickly given up as too dangerous—apparently because it could then report that she and Pierce had met while working on the set of
The Devil's Game.
According to the paper's sources, the two of them had "looked into each other's eyes and fallen instantly in love." Since Pierce had never before had a live-in lover, they too were hinting at the possibility of wedding bells.

Talk-show hostess Joan Rivers opened the gossip segment of her morning program with the story.

USA Today
devoted a paragraph to it in their "Lifestyle" section.

And "CNN Headline News" gave it a mention in their "Hollywood Minute" segment.

Pierce grinned with satisfaction when Kathy Frye informed him he'd warranted CNN coverage. "Did Dennis Michael actually mention
The Devil's Game?"
he asked her.

Kathy's smile mirrored his. "Twice."

"Good." He took a sip of his black coffee. "Good. Make sure Claire knows, will you?" he said, looking at his secretary over the rims of his reading glasses. "She likes to keep track of that sort of thing."

"Good?" Nikki said from across the table. "They print this trash about us, and you call it good? It's full of innuendo and downright lies."

"Yes, but they mentioned the movie," Kathy said. "That's the important thing." She handed Pierce his morning mail with the current copy of
People
magazine displayed prominently on top of the stack. Pierce's own face stared back at him from the cover, his lips turned up in what Nikki thought of as his pirate's grin. "It's a good article," Kathy said. "They concentrated mostly on the movie. Used the stills I gave them of you and Ms. MacDowell on the set of
The Devil's Game.
And an old picture of you with your whole family at Gage and Tara's wedding. They only mention the mystery woman—" she glanced at Nikki"—twice, in passing."

Pierce nodded. "Anything else that requires my urgent attention today?"

Kathy looked down at her notebook.
"Esquire
called. They want to discuss a possible cover article. Claire wants you to call her this afternoon around four. She says a decision has to be made about a director for the new script. You need to make a decision on those three invitations—" she nodded at the small stack of mail "—as soon as possible so I can RSVP one way or the other. And there's a pile of letters on my desk that are waiting for your review and signature sometime today. There's also that batch of new publicity photos you've been putting off autographing. We're going to need them soon," she told him. "The old supply is running low."

Pierce sighed, thinking of the writer's cramp he was going to suffer. "I'll do a bunch of them right after breakfast, okay?"

"I could sign them and save us both a lot of time and trouble," Kathy offered. "No one will know the difference."

Pierce shook his head. "I'll know," he said. He received so much fan mail that it was impossible for him to answer each one individually—although he did try to read them all—but he firmly believed that anyone who took the time to write to him deserved a picture autographed in his own hand in return, at least.

Kathy nodded and flipped her notebook closed. She took a deep breath. "There's one more thing," she said.

Pierce raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"It might be nothing," she hedged, obviously uncomfortable with what she was about to say. "I might be seeing problems where there aren't any but, well— here." She put a crumpled sheet of lined, pastel blue notepaper down on the table. "It's a note from Lisbeth to her aunt."

Pierce looked up at his secretary. "So why are you giving it to me?"

"Pierce, don't be dense," Nikki said. "She's giving it to you because it's the same kind of paper those fan letters were written on."

"You think
Lisbeth
is writing those letters?" He looked back and forth between the two women as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Lisbeth is just a kid. A shy kid, at that."

"Lisbeth is a young woman," Nikki said. "And shy or not, she's got a humongous crush on you. She's around all the time—"

"Visiting her aunt! This is her first year away from home and Mrs. Gilmore is the only family she has out here. The kid hangs around here because she's homesick."

"Maybe," Nikki said. "And maybe she hangs around to be near you."

"Those letters come through the mail," Pierce pointed out. He gestured at the crumpled note on the table between them. "They aren't left lying around the house for anyone to find."

"It wasn't lying around," Kathy said. "I found it on the floor next to the trash can in the kitchen."

"And that's exactly where it should go," Pierce said. "In the trash."

"You should at least compare the handwriting," Nikki said quietly.

"You compare it," Pierce replied, glancing at the note with an expression of distaste. "I never believed that whoever wrote those letters posed any real threat to begin with. And even if I did believe it, I sure as hell wouldn't believe it was Lisbeth Greene. That's ridiculous. In the first place, she hasn't got it in her to write stuff like that. In the second place, you can buy that kind of notepaper in any stationery or office supply store in the country. And in the third place..." He gave a snort of disgust. "Hell, I might just as well suspect Mrs. Gilmore or—" he flung a hand toward his secretary "—or Kathy. Or you."

"Nobody's saying it's Lisbeth. Or anyone else, at this point." Nikki reached out to pick up the note as she spoke. "But burying your head in the sand won't prove it one way or another."

"Why don't you have it dusted for fingerprints while you're at it?"

Nikki gave him a reproachful glare. "Your attitude isn't helping any," she said, and lowered her gaze to read the note.

The handwriting was rounded and flowing, the letters full of loops and swirls, a bit childish, a bit fanciful. It resembled the handwriting in the fan letters, but was it the same handwriting? Without one of the letters to compare it to, Nikki couldn't tell. Maybe even with the letters to compare it to, she wouldn't be able to tell.

"I'm no handwriting expert," she said at last.

Pierce snorted derisively.

"I think we should have someone who is take a look at this. If Claire doesn't know anyone who can do it," Nikki said as she handed the note to Kathy, "I can give her the names of a couple of people who can."

Kathy took the pale blue sheet of paper and turned to go.

"Kathy?" Pierce said, halting her.

She turned her head inquiringly. "I'll need reservations tonight at Spago," he said. "Dinner for two at eight o'clock." He looked across the table at Nikki. "If you're right and there is some crazy fan out there, then it's time we did something to bring her out of the woodwork and into the open. If I'm right, then we'll put this foolishness to rest, once and for all."

* * *

"I DON'T THINK this is a good idea," Nikki said, eyeing the fans and photographers loitering around the entrance to the restaurant from the inside of Pierce's Rolls-Royce limousine. "Crowds make it difficult for me to do my job effectively."

"Relax," Pierce advised her, leaning back against the seat as he waited for the driver to come around and open the door. "They're not waiting around to see us, specifically. They're just hoping to see a movie star. Any movie star."

Nikki hitched the long strap of her purse up on her shoulder, hefting the reassuring weight of her gun, and put a hand on the hem of her red leather miniskirt to keep it from riding up on her thighs. "I still think you should reconsider," she said, carefully scooting toward the door in order to get out first. She already knew he wasn't going to take her advice, and she wanted to put herself between him and possible danger.

"You and Claire think I have a dangerous fan out there—" he waved a hand "—somewhere, close at hand, waiting to do me bodily harm for being unfaithful. If that's true, then the best way to flush her out is to wave my infidelity—which is you—" he touched her nose with his fingertip "—in front of her like a red flag. So the more publicity she reads about the two of us, the better. Smile for the photographers, darling," he said as the driver pulled the car door open with a flourish. Somehow, despite her careful maneuvering, Pierce managed to step out of the long black limousine first.