Femme Fatale (14 page)

She stepped closer. “I’ll do it if it means I can be with you and that you’ll be safe.” She was crazy about him and
did
want to be with him. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Baby, what are you saying?” he half-whispered.

Oh, for the love of Mike
. She’d just told him she had
feelings
for him.
Men
. Dimwits, all of them. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she’d actually meant her declaration. “Figure it out for yourself,” she said with a huff. She marched out of the trailer before he could try to stop her. This whole situation was unacceptable.

So he planned to quit his job as their consultant, did he? Disappear, never to be seen or heard of again?

She’d just see about that.

This mess was all her fault, and Olivia aimed to fix it. And she wasn’t about to let him sacrifice his career for her. Not a chance.

Adrian was still at the food service tables along with his assistant. Olivia stepped up to the brunette. “Hey, Sheila. Can you arrange a press release or something like that for me?”

“Uh, yes. Sure.” The assistant looked between her and the director.

“And what would this press release announce?” Adrian demanded.

“That Blake and I are dating. In love. And the rumors that I’m dating Jeremy are absolutely false.”

“No way,” Adrian declared. “It would kill the great buzz you’ve stirred up. You’ve got every tabloid in Hollywood speculating on whether or not you’re dating two different men. It’s salacious and titillating… My God, they’re having a field day with this story.”

“Yeah, but Russian spies are after Blake. They want to kidnap him and use him as some sort of hostage or something to make our government sign some agreement or other.”

Stunned, Adrian’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “
What?
”

She waved a hand. “I didn’t quite get the details. The point is, that photo last night may have blown his cover sky high.”

“And why is this my problem?”

“I was thinking. Maybe the best way to get these Russian spies off his back is to convince them they’ve got the wrong guy.”

Adrian stared. “Russian spies? Hostage? Hell, I’d better call Franky S. and find out what this is all about.”

He didn’t understand. Blake had just said the Marine Corps wouldn’t protect him. So
she
had to do something. She was an actress, right? If she could fool the press—maybe she could fool the Russians, too.

Tonight, she’d go out and collect herself a big, fat posse of paparazzi.

Except as filming wound down for the day, an unexpected and unwelcome visitor blew onto the set in a flurry of designer sunglasses, cell phone calls, and chain smoking. Esther Feinstein was an old school movie agent, but one of the best in the business.

Olivia stared. “Esther! What are you doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“When Adrian Turnow calls me personally to tell me to get control of a client, Esther Feinstein hits the road.”

She swore under her breath. She didn’t need to be controlled. She
needed
to do the right thing and bail out Blake from the mess she’d gotten him into. “Okay, Esther. Let me have it. I know you spent the whole trip out here planning the speech you’re going to give me.”

She listened patiently as her agent reminded her in no uncertain terms what career plan they’d agreed upon, and why it was the best choice for her. Olivia winced now and then as the agent reminded her of the ways in which she’d agreed to act, including whom she would and would not date during this critical building phase of her career.

Esther finally concluded with, “Look, honey. I know the heart goes where it wills. But tell it to be patient for a little while. Give me a year. Do what I’m telling you to for twelve months, and then you can fall in love with whomever you want.”

Sure, she wanted to continue a relationship with Blake, see how far it went, but who said anything about falling in love? Olivia pondered trying to explain that Blake couldn’t wait a year for her to straighten out this mess. But it would be like trying to explain to a wildfire why it shouldn’t burn down a forest.

She sighed and accepted her agent’s offer to take her out to supper. Undoubtedly the woman wanted to derail any notions Olivia had of a repeat appearance with Blake in front of the paparazzi.

A little before ten p.m. Olivia slipped into a sexy little red dress sure to capture the attention of any photographers lurking around the clubs and headed out.

The concierge closed in on her as she walked through the hotel lobby and surprised her by offering, “Would you like one of our security staff members to accompany you this evening, Miss Harper?”

Hmm. Who’d sicced a babysitter on her? Could be Esther, maybe Adrian? She wouldn’t have put it past Sheila, either. Gaze narrowed, Olivia responded wryly, “I’m not planning on drinking or attacking any photographers, tonight. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

She hailed a cab and named the club Jeremy had taken her to that first night. She had faith he only hung out at bars he was sure to be spotted in. Sure enough, when she pulled up, a photographer was lounging on the lip of a tall concrete planter by the sidewalk. He straightened and flashed her a wolf-like grin as she stepped out of the curb.

“Hey buddy. Who do you work for?” she asked him.

He named one of the big, national tabloids.

“Want an exclusive?”

“Hell, yeah! Whatchya got?”

“I want to make a statement, if you don’t mind.”

The grin disappeared, replaced by stunned disbelief. “Lay it on me, Olivia.”

“For the record, the man I was photographed with last night is in the Army and is a technical consultant on the film I’m shooting.” She gave the name of the consultant who’d been fired to make way for Blake. She hoped the fellow would forgive her for borrowing his name. It was for a good cause, though: safeguarding the life of a fellow military man.

She continued, “He and I have been secretly dating since he arrived on set. I’m crazy about him, and he feels the same about me. I was dating Jeremy McDaniels, but I dumped him to go out with my new boyfriend. Jeremy’s furious and has been tanking scenes all over the place because he’s so pissed off. You can ask anyone on the crew—Adrian’s been jumping all over him. ”

The guy’s tape recorder wavered as he gaped at her.

She leaned closer. “That dinner Jeremy and I had two nights ago? He wanted to get back together, but I turned him down. He’s just not as good as my new boyfriend in
that
department, if you get my drift.” She felt bad telling bald-faced lies like this, but Lord knew, he’d told a pile of whoppers about her. What was good for him was good for her.

“Oh, man. This shit is gold,” the guy gloated.

“At any rate, there’s a ton of drama on the set. The love scenes between Jeremy and me are turning out wildly explosive because he’s so mad at me. It’s been a nightmare.”

“Has McDaniels threatened this other guy?”

Oooh. Good idea. That would add fuel to the fire
. “I haven’t witnessed it myself,” she confessed confidentially. “But I can’t imagine that he hasn’t. You know how bad Jeremy’s temper can be.”

“No shit. Saw him punch a buddy of mine last year. Wrecked a thousand-dollar camera. Fucker’s nasty when crossed.”

Yikes. And she’d just thrown Jeremy under the bus. Ultimately, he would thank her for the publicity this scandal would send his way. But in the meantime, he was going to be royally p.o.’ed to have his sexual prowess insulted. Not to mention that his co-star chose some other guy over him. Even if that part
was
true.

She delivered the
coup de grace
in a worried undertone. “Tomorrow night, my boyfriend and I are having dinner at this nice Italian place…the one across from the walking mall.” She named the restaurant she and Esther had eaten at earlier. “Jeremy’s threatening to come and jump his ass. I figure if you and a few of your friends were there, it might stop Jeremy from doing anything stupid. I hate to ask a favor of you after you’ve been so nice already, but if you just happened to be in the vicinity tomorrow evening, that would
reall
y help me out.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m always up for helping out a hot chick.”

She grinned to herself. Who said the press had no chivalry? He’d be glad to help her out…
and
score a bunch of exclusive photos of a movie star brawling with some guy over a girl. Like those wouldn’t be worth a fortune. She snorted under her breath.

Now all she had to do was talk Blake into playing along.

Chapter Eleven

Blake scowled as he helped Olivia out of the town car in front of the restaurant. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. You don’t even know if Jeremy’s going to show up or not. Without him, we won’t get the press coverage we need to convince the Russians I’m not their guy.” He felt ridiculous with his face full of make-up.

“Have faith,” she answered. “Jeremy will show. And you look good as a brunette.”

He scowled and blinked a few times to wet the contact lenses turning his eyes brown. He couldn’t believe he’d let Olivia talk him into a session in Tyrone’s make-up chair before coming out with her tonight. What had he been thinking? Someone was sure to recognize him.

The paparazzi had turned out in force this evening. The guy Olivia had spoken to yesterday had apparently opted to tell everyone he knew about the showdown at the O.K. Corral tonight rather than keep the exclusive for himself. The photographers shouted for Olivia and him to pose for some photos.

“Here we go,” she murmured.

“For the record, I hate this whole plan of yours.”

“But you’ll do it nonetheless,” she replied sweetly.

Dammit, he couldn’t turn her down. Her plan would never work, but she’d gone way out on a limb by publically declaring herself to be “in lurve” with him. Using Jeremy to convince the press she was telling the truth and that Blake was some completely other guy was pretty diabolical. And after the lies Jeremy had spouted about her, he supposed her co-star deserved a little comeuppance.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he smiled for the cameras, dying to scratch his prosthetic-enhanced cheek.

His trained gaze roamed over the crowd of reporters, then hitched. Stopped. Came back to the one who caught his attention. He moved his gaze on so as not to give away his particular interest while he processed details. Tall guy. Lanky. Bad teeth. Worse haircut. And that slouch…oh, yeah. That was the intruder from the movie set.

He murmured to Olivia without moving his lips, “Third guy from our left. Know him?”

“Never seen him. Not one of the regulars,” she replied under her breath.

A Russian agent
. The next time Blake’s gaze skated across the guy, he took in preternaturally sharp eyes. Definitely not a tabloid photographer.

“Who’s the guy?” someone called out.

As they’d rehearsed, Olivia answered, “Stuntman. Been with Jackson Motta for years. Ex-Army. How’ve you guys missed spotting him before now? Isn’t he pretty?”

She delivered the line perfectly, with just the right amount of casual truth. Even better, the tension in the Russian’s shoulders dissipated.
The guy bought her line
. Son-of-a-gun. He might just get out of this mess with his career intact, after all. He leaned in to Liv to whisper, “Have I ever told you what a brilliant actress you are?”

She smiled up at him as someone shouted, “How about a kiss?”

Olivia laughed and stood on tiptoe, throwing her arms around his neck and laying a big, wet kiss on him, complete with a near tonsillectomy. As she melted into him, his arm naturally went around her. God, she tasted good. He took control of the kiss, devouring the taste of her and swallowing with relish the little moan she made in the back of her throat. Her breasts pressed against his chest through the fine Egyptian cotton of his dress shirt and blood rushed to his groin.

“Somebody throw a bucket of water on those two!” one of the photographers shouted. A laugh went up all around them, shocking Blake back into the present. Damn, the woman messed with his head.

“I can’t ever get enough of you,” he growled low. He’d meant it for her ears alone, but the bastards crowding around them reacted immediately, demanding to know just how hot and heavy their relationship was.

Olivia responded cheerfully, “So hot I can’t believe we haven’t burned down the hotel, yet.”

Blake rolled his eyes at her and ushered her to the door. “We’ll see you after dinner, boys,” he called back at the paparazzi. “Can we bring you anything?”

There was a smattering of laughter as he held the door for Olivia and she sidled past him, her palm brushing across his stomach flirtatiously. His abs tightened until they hurt. Damn, what she did to him…

“You handled those guys really well,” she murmured as the maitre d’ led them to their table.

“Do you think they noticed the different hair and eyes?” he asked tersely under his breath.

“I doubt it. They’re used to movie stars who constantly change their look for roles or just to follow fashion trends. The key question is will we fool the guys who are looking for you?”

Blake shrugged. “I think we fooled the one out there, tonight. Time will tell if his bosses believe him when he says I’m not the guy they’re looking for. My people will monitor the chatter among the Russians and hopefully we’ll intercept something one way or the other.”

“Where did you learn to deal with the press so well?” she asked curiously.

“The military has embedded journalists with them all the time. I’ve got experience with the type. And you know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I’d rather have the press on my side than the other guy’s.”

Her lips formed a thin line. “We’re playing with fire to use them for our own ends, but there doesn’t seem to be any other way to save your life. And as long as Jeremy and I create a bunch of sensational coverage for the film with this little stunt, I think Adrian won’t wring my neck. My agent, on the other hand, may fire me over it.”