Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) (7 page)

“No.
Like my tattoo, it is in a place you will never see.”

Colt
took out his keys and unlocked the doors. He already knew the routine. Sable
wouldn’t let him hold her door. She insisted that he get in the car before she
did. He didn’t like it, but she wouldn’t budge.

“You
have a tattoo?” he asked when after she slipped into the passenger seat.

“An
Army Ranger insignia.”

Colt
started the car and shifted into drive. “Tell me where it is.”

“Why
torture yourself?” Sable couldn’t resist teasing him. “It’s better if you don’t
know.”

“I
don’t agree,” he grumbled.

Sable
sat back and relaxed. She mentioned the tattoo to distract Colt. And it worked.
He didn’t mention the gunshot wound again. She didn’t fool herself. He hadn’t
forgotten. But he let it slide. For now.

The
tattoo was another matter altogether. They both knew why Colt didn’t push the
issue. He believed they were destined to have sex. He would get her naked and
look for the ink.

“It
is not going to happen.”

“Keep
telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.”

“You
are impossible.”

Sable
punched him in the arm. She gave him points for not crying out; she didn’t hold
back. However, he winced, and that gave her a lot of satisfaction.

“I
will never again accuse someone of hitting like a girl.”

Delighted,
Sable burst out laughing. Keeping her hormones in check would be a challenge.
But she looked forward to spending time with Colt. He made her smile, and laugh—and
think. A unique combination.

Nope.
He was not a vapid pretty boy. He was much more. And Sable couldn’t wait to
discover the many layers of Colton Landis.

“YOU’RE MY GIRLFRIEND.”

“
Pretend
girlfriend. It isn’t necessary for us to be inseparable.”

“Let
me get this straight. You are willing to sit for hours on a movie set, but you
won’t dine with me?
Trance
has the best ravioli this side of Rome.”

Colt’s
stubborn streak was a mile wide. It was one of those many layers Sable would
have happily skipped. They weren’t engaging in a discussion. Or an argument.
Colt’s tone never changed. Nor did his stance. Reasonable and intractable. How
was she supposed to deal with that?

“What
does the menu have to do with anything?” Sable shifted on the sofa. They
arrived home over an hour ago. The only break in this conversation came when
Colt took ten minutes to shower.

“Why
pass up an amazing meal? Have you been to
Trance
?”

“No.”

“Case
closed.”

“What?”
Sable jumped to her feet, rushing after him. “There is no case. You’ve already
told me that this is a working dinner. It makes sense for you to show up alone.
My boss has arranged with the owner of
Trance
to let me watch you from
the kitchen.”

It
was the first time Sable had entered Colt’s bedroom. It was almost twice the
size of hers. Why one person needed so much space, she would never know.
However, she liked the soothing tones of green and blue. And she appreciated a
good view. Her balcony back in Harper Falls could fit onto the one that
overlooked Los Angeles, at least five times. But the principle was the same. It
was a getaway space. Surrounded by people, yet isolated.

“I
refuse.”

“You
can’t refuse. It is a done deal.”

“Why
are you fighting me so hard?”

Colt
entered his walk-in closet, his voice becoming muffled.

Sable
had her reasons. Good ones. Her part as the devoted girlfriend was a great
cover. That cover would begin to slip if it appeared that she had leached
herself onto Colt. They shouldn’t be seen together all the time. Tonight would
be a perfect opportunity to shake some attention.

“Why
are you?” she demanded. “If our relationship were real, would we go everywhere together?”

“I
plan on enjoying my meal,” he called out. “How can I do that knowing you’re
lurking in the kitchen?”

“I
don’t lurk.”

Colt
ignored her. He exited the closet carrying a gray suit that sported a stylish
thin, black pinstripe. “Think of my digestion. My stomach and I will be happier
with you by my side. Give me a good reason you shouldn’t join me.”

“I’ll
have a better view of the restaurant from the kitchen.”

“Not
good enough.”

“I
need to keep my attention focused on you, not ravioli.”

“Try
again.”

“My
wardrobe is limited. I have casual, and I have dressy. It’s the in between that’s
the problem.” All true. However, Sable had the knack of making almost anything
look fashionable. Call it champagne taste on a beer budget.

“Normally
I would have purchased a few things before I arrived, but I didn’t have time.”

“Why
the hell didn’t you say so?”

“I
just did,” she shot back.

Colt
dropped his suit on the bed.

“Come
on.”

He
grabbed her hand, pulling her from his room to hers. Colt opened her closet and
surveyed the contents.

“You
dress well,” Colt said. He looked her up and down. “I noticed that when you
guarded Jade. Your taste is excellent, and you have a good eye for color.”

“Good?”
Sable’s eyes narrowed. She might not have the money to buy designer originals,
but no one could fault her style. “Try excellent.”

“Agreed.”
Colt handed her a simple pale lavender sheath dress and a pair of sling-back
heels. “Those will do nicely. Nobody can see the labels, Sable.”

“In
Beverly Hills? Think again.”

“You
know the old saying. The clothes don’t make the woman. You look fantastic, no
matter what you wear.”

“Flattery?”
Sable smiled, taking the dress and holding it up in front of the mirror. It
suited her. “And I think you garbled that saying.”

Colt
shrugged. “I like my way. It fits. And it’s true. Now, about your underwear.”

“I
can handle the rest,” she said, pushing him out the door.

“Party
pooper. Things were getting interesting.”

“I’ll
be ready in thirty minutes.”

“Really?”
Colt looked impressed. “Take your time. It will take me at least an hour.”

“To
put on a suit?” Sable blinked. He had to be kidding.

“It’s
a process.”

“An
asinine process.”

Colt
grinned. “Welcome to my world where asinine is another word for Hollywood.”

Alone,
Sable sighed. Wyatt Landis paid her salary, but Colt was her boss. If he
insisted on having her by his side, she had no choice but to comply.

Sable
began applying her makeup. Perhaps she needed to switch gears—mentally. She had
played the girlfriend before now. However, none of those jobs lasted longer
than a few days.

Funny
how that mimicked real life. Men came and went. Casual. Pleasant. Forgettable.
Sable wanted to treat Colt the same and hold him at a distance. Their mutual
attraction aside, she knew she didn’t have that luxury. Not this time.

Colt
couldn’t make a move without drawing attention. A live-in girlfriend counted as
more than news. As soon as word got around, Sable’s face would be splashed all
over the internet. Rumors would run rampant. Wedding plans? Babies?

Sable
needed to prepare herself for an onslaught from every direction. Including, God
help her, her mother.

Hopefully,
there would be time enough to worry about the inevitable accusatory phone call.
Would there be approval or horror? Either way, Sable knew her mother’s reaction
was bound to be over the top.

That
was a bridge, lined with explosives, that Sable would cross another time.
Today, on set, Colt had introduced her as his girlfriend. No one batted an eye.
They had jobs to do. Worrying about their star’s latest squeeze was far down
their list of concerns. Tonight would be different. A new world.

Luckily,
Sable loved an adventure. The more it challenged her, the better. It was time
for her to hone a new set of skills.

She
needed to learn the ins and outs of being the perfect Hollywood girlfriend.

TRANCE
WAS EVERYTHING Colt built it up to be—and more.
Luxurious, exclusive, and a little obnoxious in the way they slathered Colt
with attention.

He
took it with good grace and a wink, letting Sable know he understood that it
was nothing but bullshit.

Colton
Landis, movie star. When his movies made tons of money, he ruled Hollywood. At
the moment, Colt was top of the heap. Next year that might change, but for now,
people climbed over each other to bow and scrape, hoping some of his luster
would run off onto them.

That
included the woman interviewing Colt, Sable realized from the moment they
joined her at their table. Izzy Clark was young, pretty, and savvy enough not
to flirt with Colt when his girlfriend sat inches away.

And
she only cared about his glitzy exterior. She couldn’t have cared less about
the real man.

“Do
you mind if I record the interview?” she asked Colt.

“Not
at all.”

“I
feel honored.” Izzy set her phone in the middle of the table and beamed at
Colt, her eyes occasionally darting Sable’s way. “I get to break the news of
your new relationship. How thrilling. Tonight is a coming-out party, so to
speak.”

Sable
groaned. Good Lord. Before she could roll her eyes, Colt nudged her leg.
Play
the part
. Her lips curved, hiding tightly clenched teeth. This girlfriend
thing would be harder than she anticipated.

“When
did you meet?”

“Sable
and my brother’s fiancée are dear friends. Jade introduced us last fall.”

The
woman had a lousy poker face. Sable could tell she wanted to use the opening to
ask about Jade and Garrett. The story was a juicy one. The furor it stirred up
hadn’t died down. Wisely, she kept her questions to herself. She was ambitious.
And smart enough to know what subject matter was off limits.

“Was
it love at first sight?”

Izzy
directed the question at Sable.

“Love?”
Sable shrugged, then proceeded to skirt the word like a pro. She looked at
Colt, her smile warming. Time to jump in—full-tilt girlfriend mode. “Not at
first. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blind. Looking at Colt is no hardship.”

Izzy
laughed. And laughed.
Okay
, Sable thought.
Not that funny
.

“I
knew I wanted to get to know her. I’m fortunate that she agreed.”

Colt
raised her hand to his lips. His mouth curved upward against her skin and his
eyes sparkled. He knew that Sable was out of her element—swimming hard against
the tide that wanted to swallow her under—and he enjoyed every moment.
The
bastard
.

“Are
you officially off the market?”

“We’re
living together.”

Izzy
gasped. Skin flushed with excitement; she checked her phone to make certain she
got every word.

Colt’s
reaction wasn’t as obvious, though Sable read him with ease. If they hadn’t
been in a room filled with eager observers, he would have burst out laughing.

“How
long ago did you move in?”

“Yesterday,”
Colt replied. “It’s new.”

“What
is your family’s reaction?”

There
was a question behind the question. Izzy hoped the Landis clan hated Sable and
disapproved of the relationship. Sable understood that Izzy had a job to do.
But did she believe Colt would say such a thing?

Later,
Sable asked Colt that very question when they were alone in his loft.

“She
can hope. It wouldn’t be the first time a celebrity said more than was prudent.”

Colt
had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. The suit and tie were nice. The pictures
taken by the paparazzi as they entered and left the restaurant would make women
swoon. Sable had to admit, Colt’s impeccably tailored clothing set off his
long, muscled frame to perfection—the gray of the material deepening the blue
of his eyes.

However,
Sable liked him best casual and relaxed. He crossed his ankles and sighed.

“She
pushed the champagne. Then proceeded to drink most of it.”

“Mmm.”
Closing his eyes, Colt patted the sofa. He smiled when Sable joined him. “She
never recovered from your bombshell. Ms. Clark believed she would interview me
about my new movie. Instead, how did she put it? She scooped the world. You can’t
blame her for falling apart. You made her career.”

“That
wasn’t my intention. But, hey, I’m all for doing my part to advance my fellow
woman. Even if I find her job morally reprehensible.”

Colt
peered at Sable, one eye firmly shut.

“Isn’t
that a bit harsh?”

“Is
it? She almost drooled when you mentioned Jade. She wanted you to throw her and
your family under the bus. “

Colt’s
mouth tightened. “That wasn’t going to happen.”

“But
if you were a different kind of man, one who slipped after a few glasses of
wine, she would gleefully write every dirty secret without a single tinge of
conscience. I stick with my assessment. In fact, reprehensible might be letting
her off lightly.”

Sable
stretched her legs out next to Colt’s, their bare feet inches apart.

“You
found your rhythm quickly.” Colt tapped her toe with his. “You were a natural
in front of the paparazzi.”

“They
threw me at first, but I reminded myself that they had the cameras. I had the
gun.”

“Ouch.
Literally.”

They
fell into a comfortable, easy conversation. The tone of Colt’s voice, low and
soothing was the perfect accompaniment to his stories about growing up with
three brothers and high-profile parents.

Colt
didn’t speak of his mother in reverent tones. She wasn’t
Callie Flynn:
Superstar.
She was Mom. Loving. Strong. Supportive. Willing to let her boys
be who they were meant to be. Surprisingly, Colt painted the picture of a
normal childhood—quite a feat, all things considered.