Exposing Alix (9 page)

Ryker hit Pause again. He muttered an expletive under his
breath. “I thought they were professionals.”

“She’s in love with him, Ryker,” Alix said softly. “You
can’t blame her for that.”

“What?” He looked amazed. “She hates him. It’s as plain as
the nose on her face. She must still be pissed about that wardrobe girl.”

Alix shook her head. “I always try to give men the benefit
of the doubt, but you really don’t get this stuff, do you?”

He sighed. “If you’re considering giving me a lecture
about true love, you can stop right now. I’m not interested.”

“Whether you’re interested or not, Lena’s still in love
with Jake. She’s terrified to let him touch her. That’s why she looks like
that. She’s using her anger to mask her fear. If we don’t figure out some way
to get her past that fear, we’ll never get what we need out of these two.”

Ryker got off the couch and began to pace the room. “So
now we’re supposed to be amateur psychiatrists? Matchmakers? Sorry, but I don’t
do Dr. Phil on the set of my movies. They’re grown-ups, and they’re making too
much money to allow these
feelings
to get in the way of their jobs.
Forget all that, and tell me something I can control. Cameras, lighting,
costume, set design… What are we missing?”

“They’re not just actors, Ryker, they’re people, and
there’s some serious stuff going on between them. You think we can just stand
there and tell them to forget it, and it will all go away?”

“So what do you suggest?” He laughed grimly. “We send them
out on a date?”

Alix leaned back against the couch, relieved not to have
his body so close to hers. “I didn’t say we had to fix their relationship. I
said we had to get her past her fear. She’s an actor—a good actor. We
just have to convince her she’s good enough to hide her real feelings.”

“I see.” He leaned against the bar and crossed his arms
over his chest. “And you figured all this out from watching five minutes of
film?”

She shrugged. “I could be completely wrong. Stranger
things have happened.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know fear when I see it, but she
isn’t scared of him physically. She trusts him enough to fight with him, and
that tells me there’s still something between them.”

“So you’ve watched a bunch of people screw, and now you’re
some kind of sexual Sherlock Holmes?” He kept his voice light, but it was
impossible to hide the irritation that lurked below the surface.

Alix bit her lip. “I’m just telling you what I think.”

He advanced on her a few steps, his mouth curving
speculatively. “Tell me, Sherlock, I’ve got some pent-up frustration. Any ideas
for getting rid of it?”

She tried to laugh, though her heart skipped at the look
in his eye. “Sorry, I only diagnose actors.”

“You’re sure?” He stopped a few feet in front of her, head
cocked at a questioning angle as his gaze traveled up and down her body. “I bet
we could figure something out between the two of us.”

Alix’s body flushed with heat. She knew she should move
quickly, make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with whatever he was
offering. Yet she was frozen, unable to tear herself away from the most
sexually charged moment she’d experienced in years. “Look, it’s getting late.
Maybe we should take this up again in the morning.”

He took her hand and pulled her to standing. The touch of
his palm caught her breath in her throat, and she wobbled on her high heels. He
smiled and placed one finger on the strap of her dress, right by her
collarbone, and then slid the finger down to the front of her dress. “You know,
I’ve been wondering. How many…” He trailed the back of his hand across her bare
skin. “How many couples do you think you’ve watched over the years?”

“What do you mean?” she asked lowly, an uncomfortable
prickle tightening her nipples. “What does this have to do with
Salva’s
Revenge
?”

“I’m just curious. When you’re taking your pictures,
you’re watching them, right? They’re having sex in front of you. So what do you
think? How many has it been?” His hand crept around to the back of her neck,
where he lingered for a minute, tickling the sensitive skin at the nape of her
neck, and then following the delicate bones of her spine down her back.

She swallowed hard, willing herself to pull away as his
hand came to rest on the small of her back. “I don’t really keep track.”

“Surely you have some idea,” he said.

“I’d really prefer not to talk about it. I don’t
think—”

He leaned forward and let his mouth lightly caress the
edge of her shoulder. At the same time, he pressed her toward him, bringing
their bodies into contact from thigh to chest. Her heart lurched as his lips
traveled upward, along the sensitive skin of her neck and the line of her jaw.
Desire curled through her body, lingering in the pit of her stomach.

Finally, their lips met, touched, parted. He was taking
without pause, and she was letting him, letting the wet, seductive pressure of
his tongue run through her. There was fire inside her, rushing in a torrent
from her lips to her legs.

It was an emotion she hadn’t felt for ages.

Hell, she’d
never
felt it before. Not like this.

He slid his mouth down her neck. “Do you pick up tips
while you’re watching? Refine your technique?” he breathed.

“Ryker—” She meant to tell him to stop, but the
sensation of his lips caressing her neck robbed her of breath, of thought. He
pressed into the base of her spine, and she molded against him. He returned to
her mouth, sucked lightly on her bottom lip, and then opened his lips to take
her into a cloud of hot, wet passion. She clutched his shoulder, the muscles
beneath her hand hard, flexing as he ran a hand along her spine, tracing the
outline of her vertebrae. She had no idea how to tell him to stop, couldn’t
even remember why she should. Her voice had disappeared even as her body melted
into his sensual assault.

His hand moved up her side, brushing lightly against the
hard peaks of her nipples, and she gasped, the spell finally broken. The
pleasure was too intense, her reaction too swift and abandoned to let it
continue. She knew what lay at the end of this path, and she refused to go
through it again. She put her hands on his chest and firmly pushed him away,
her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.
“This isn’t a good idea. We’re working together.”

He straightened, his eyes dark, unfathomable. “Look, I
don’t like to get involved with coworkers either. But let’s be rational about
it. We’re attracted to each other. We’re grown-ups. I think we can handle it.”

She tried to slow her breathing and act calm. “I’m being practical.
It doesn’t make sense. I’m not here for long, and we’ve got a lot of work to
do.”

His voice curled around her, deep and sensual, with just a
hint of humor. “We can speed things up, if you prefer. I suggest we take our
time, personally, but if you’re feeling rushed…”

Heat flushed her cheeks. She took a step back. “We just
met. You don’t know anything about me.”

He eyed her flushed cheeks, and then his gaze dropped
lower, to the hard buds peeking out through the thin silk of her dress. A tiny
smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure that matters.”

“Of course it matters,” she flared, drawing strength from
his statement. “Look, I’m here to make my hundred thousand dollars and get the
hell out of LA as quickly as possible. I’m not interested in entanglements.
Understand?”

He assessed her silently and then nodded. “If you say so.”

He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes. But
she knew what would happen if she tried to explain. She’d tell him how she
valued her privacy and how she wasn’t interested in casual sex, and he’d look
at her with pity and pretend he understood. Meanwhile, he’d be thinking what a
pathetic, frigid freak she must be.

She made her voice firm. “I do. It’s been a long day, and
we’ve got an early call tomorrow. Can we just drop it?”

“If you insist,” he said. “The last thing I want is to
interrupt your beauty sleep. Six a.m. call. I’ll look forward to hearing your
ideas for bringing about this great reconciliation between Jake and Lena.”

Unsure from his wry smile what he was—or was
not—dropping, Alix grabbed her purse from the couch. “Fine. Great. I’ll
see you tomorrow.” Her words tripped over each other nervously.

She caught sight of him staring at her bottom as she bent
over to retrieve her bag. His grin widened. “I will look forward to it. There’s
nothing I like better than to watch a master working her craft.”

#

Ryker walked Alix to her car and then returned to the
screening room. He sank down into the couch, smile fading as he focused on the projection
screen and the frozen image of Lena and Jake. He jabbed at the remote control
until their faces faded away.

What a night. From Alix’s transformation to that amazing
kiss, nothing had gone the way he’d expected. She’d gotten under his skin from
the very start with her probing questions about love and sex. He’d turned on
the charm then because he remembered from their first meeting that it seemed to
fluster her. She’d responded with a mix of nervousness and defiance that he
couldn’t help but enjoy. He had assumed a woman with her background would have
been hit on thousands of times, but she didn’t have the tough skin or the
casual cynicism he would have expected. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a
mix of innocence and temptation, all wrapped up together in one saucy package
of sultry emerald eyes and smooth skin.

And her mouth… Lord, nothing could have prepared him for
that mouth. Hot and wet, sucking him into a dark pool of passion that he would
have willingly drowned in, right then and there. With one kiss she’d turned on
his entire body.

It was remarkable. She was a puzzle, a knot he wanted to
unravel more and more every time he saw her. She’d trembled with anticipation
when he’d touched her. He’d felt the shiver run through her, seen how her
nipples hardened instantly under his touch. Her body didn’t hesitate before
reacting, even if her mind told her it should. Her hips had melded with his;
her lips teased him with unrestrained passion.

And she was ready to throw that away because they were
coworkers
?
Because she didn’t want to live in LA? A woman who worshipped at the altar of
good sex and made movies dedicated to the art of arousal didn’t have time for
entanglements?

Ryker shook his head. He turned out the rest of the lights
in the bungalow and got into his car. If nothing else, the mystery of Alix had
momentarily distracted him from the train wreck
Salva’s Revenge
had
become. Hell, he’d be distracted all night long just thinking about the touch
of her tongue on his.

As he pulled out onto the freeway, a smile played around
the corner of his mouth. Twice now Alix had pushed him away. One might think
he’d be frustrated, embarrassed even. But instead he was strangely energized.
He couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow and see what she’d do next. He half
expected an entirely different person to greet him in the morning.

It was as if they were in the first act of a three-act
play, and he didn’t know yet how the story would end.

Though he had a very good guess.

Alix practically ran back to her
car, not stopping until she hit the cool outside air. She fumbled with the car
key and slid into the front seat, her hands shaking. Two blocks later, her
heartbeat was still racing, and there was a suspicious warmth between her
thighs.

Damn him. Damn him for being just as dangerous as she’d
expected. Damn him for giving her that horrible, seductive smile—the one
she’d seen him use in all his movies to get the girl into bed.

And damn
her
for still wanting him.

When the light turned green, Alix forced herself to accelerate
rapidly and merge into the next lane. She had to stop thinking about Ryker and
pay attention to her driving, or she’d end up in a ten-car pile-up on the 101.
Then she’d really be the laughingstock of Hollywood.

Her phone rang in her purse, and she jumped at the sound.
She managed to extract her cell just as the call went to voice mail, her car
swerving into the next lane. A horn honked, and someone sped by, shouting. She
cringed and sank down in the seat. Truthfully, she was a horrible driver. She’d
grown up a foster kid in New York City and moved into her own apartment when
she was seventeen. She’d never had the money or the need for a car until she
moved to LA, after film school. By then it was too late. She didn’t have the
reflexes.

She studiously ignored the honking horns and looked at the
phone, half thinking she’d see Ryker’s name on her caller ID.

It was Gunther.

Of course, Gunther. She’d promised she’d call him when she
got into town.

She straightened in her seat and adjusted the rearview
mirror. As she did, she caught a quick look at her flushed face and shook her
head with disgust. Gunther couldn’t see her like this. He would know something
was wrong. She had to pull herself together.

Alix deliberately took five deep, slow breaths. She hit
the air conditioning and rolled down the windows.

Ryker, she reminded herself, was just a man. A man with
the face and body of a Greek god, perhaps, but a man. And she had very clear
rules for dealing with men; rules that would ensure she never, ever made the same
mistakes she’d made in the past.

Rule one: no sex without love. That eliminated most
wannabe actors and directors from the dating pool. Hollywood-types wanted sex,
nothing more. In fact, once she made rule one, she didn’t really need a rule
two.

Thirty white-knuckled minutes and two near-collisions
later, she pulled up to the gate in front of a sprawling Bel Air mansion. She
tapped in a passcode and waited for the heavy iron to retract. When it did, she
accelerated up the drive to the front of the palatial, three-story mansion
Gunther called home.