Overnight Sensation (17 page)

That had been less than two hours ago and yet now, kissing her, he could feel his body tightening once more in arousal. Ivy wore her bathrobe and nothing else, and Garrett couldn’t resist slipping his hand beneath the silken material to mold her breast. He deepened the kiss, exploring the sweet recesses of her mouth and loving how she responded, instantly and without reservations.

He dragged his mouth from hers, but didn’t stop the slow exploration of her satiny skin. “We can’t do this,” he said, his voice sounding rough.

“Why not?” She slid her hand over his abdomen and lower, to where his arousal pressed against the front of his cargo pants. “It seems to me you’re more than ready.”

“Ready and willing,” he groaned, “but somebody’s coming down the path.”

Without giving her time to protest, he withdrew his arm from beneath her shoulders and swung his legs over the edge of the hammock to the ground. Assuring himself that Ivy was covered, he stood, easing the stiffness from his bad leg. He’d heard footsteps on the path that led from the hacienda to his casita, but he was unprepared for the man who finally emerged from the dense foliage.

“Whoa, Finn!” he exclaimed, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “What are you doing back?”

What the hell was he doing back so early? By Garrett’s estimation, Finn and the film crew—and Eric Terrell—should have been gone for at least another twenty-four hours.

Finn’s eyes swept beyond Garrett to the hammock, where Ivy was oh-so-casually trying to push her robe down lower over her legs.

Garrett knew and trusted Finn enough to feel confident that whatever he might personally think about seeing Garrett and Ivy together, he wouldn’t so much as mention it to anyone else. But for an instant, he thought he saw disappointment in the other man’s eyes. Then it was gone, and Garrett wasn’t certain if what he’d seen was real or just a figment of his imagination.

“We, ah, wrapped up the jungle shoot this afternoon,” Finn said, shifting his gaze back to Garrett. “I’d like you to watch the dailies with me, help me spot any technical problems.”

“Absolutely.” Reviewing the film clips from the last two days could take hours, but the process was essential in evaluating performance and detecting any issues that could have a negative impact on the final product. Inwardly, however, every curse he knew—and he knew plenty—was rolling viciously through his head. He cursed Finn’s bad timing; he cursed the fact that he hadn’t figured this exact scenario into his plans; and he cursed himself for not taking better care of Ivy’s reputation. Instead, he’d allowed her to be caught in what was unquestionably a compromising situation. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me about fifteen minutes, would you? I want to walk Ivy back to the hacienda, then I’ll be right there.”

“Actually,” Finn said smoothly, “I wanted to speak to Ivy, too.”

Garrett glanced at Ivy, who was struggling to sit upright and look composed as the flimsy netting of the hammock threatened to unseat her completely. Reaching back, he caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. He had to give her credit. She tightened the belt of her robe, smoothed a hand over the unruly mass of her hair and smiled as if completely comfortable.

“Hey, Finn. It’s good to see you back.” She glanced swiftly at Garrett and then back at the director. “I want you to know that I—I took your advice to heart, and I hope you’ll be pleased with how I intend to interpret the love scenes.”

Finn arched one bushy eyebrow. “So I take it you found your inspiration?”

“Well,” she began, “I asked Garrett to give me a few pointers. You know…share his experiences with me so that I could gain a better understanding of what transpired between him and—and my character.”

Finn’s eyebrow rose fractionally higher. “Really.” He shot Garrett a look that said clearly what Garrett was already thinking: he was a total and complete scumbag.

“We didn’t follow the script to the letter,” Ivy continued. “We improvised. But I feel I have a better understanding of how to approach the love scenes.”

“Improvised, huh?” Finn sounded less than enthusiastic.

Ivy actually smiled. “Yes. If you recall, Eric recommended that, and in retrospect, I feel it was an excellent suggestion.”

“Excellent,” Finn repeated dully. Garrett knew the other man well enough to guess the direction of his thoughts; he believed Ivy was going to completely botch tomorrow’s shoot. Finn sighed deeply and handed her a slip of paper. “You’ll have an opportunity to demonstrate your newfound techniques tomorrow morning. Here’s your call sheet. We’ll reshoot the love scenes beginning at 8:00 a.m., so I suggest you get a good night’s sleep.”

Which meant that Ivy would need to report to hair and makeup by 5:30 or 6:00 a.m., which meant he really did need to walk her back to her room so she could get some sleep. God knew she hadn’t gotten much in the past forty-eight hours.

“Thanks, Finn,” he said. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

After the other man had left, Garrett turned to Ivy. She had her arms wrapped around her middle, and for an instant, she looked vulnerable. But as he watched her, it was like seeing a shutter close over an open window. Her expression became studiously composed and she smiled politely at him, as if they were strangers and hadn’t spent the past two days plastered against each other.

“Well,” she said, her voice bright. “I guess this is it, huh? My so-called acting lessons are officially over. I just want to—to thank you for everything you did.”

Garrett stepped forward so that he was right there in her space. Apart from one swift indrawn breath, she gave no indication that his closeness affected her.

“Three days,” he said softly, searching her eyes. “That was the deal.”

He saw, with satisfaction, that her eyes widened. “But…that was when we thought the film crew would be gone for three days. Just because they’re back a day early—”

Garrett slid a hand beneath the fall of her hair. Her nape was warm against his fingers. “Three days,” he repeated, massaging her silky skin. “I don’t care when it happens, but I insist on having everything you promised, and that was three days of—”

“No-strings sex,” she finished for him. “Yes, I remember.”

“You can’t tell me you won’t be looking forward to one more day,” he insisted softly. “In fact, I’m certain that if Finn and the rest of the crew never returned, you’d be okay with that.”

He noticed that she swallowed hard and for an instant her eyes shifted away from him. “Maybe,” she finally conceded.

Garrett laughed. “I’m right, and you know it.”

That wrung a reluctant smile out of her, but she refused to agree with him. “Finn’s waiting for you, and I have to go back to my room.”

“I’ll walk you.” He captured her hand in his, linking their fingers. He liked how she leaned into him as they made their way back along the path that led to the hacienda, as though she needed him. As though she trusted him. Having her beside him like this felt incredibly right, and he realized with a growing sense of dismay that he already thought of her as his.

His woman.

He didn’t believe their two days together had been nothing more than meaningless sex, either. Garrett would bet his last peso on the fact that at some point during that time, she’d made a connection with him on more than just a physical level. She genuinely liked being with him, and that was good enough for him.

For now.

Before the filming was through, he’d make sure she liked him a whole lot more. He may have started their relationship under less than truthful conditions, but his long-term intentions toward her were completely honorable. The past two days had firmly cemented just one thought into his head: he wanted Ivy in his life for the long haul.

They approached the rear entrance to the hacienda, and Ivy pulled him to a halt on the dimly lit path.

“What’s wrong?”

She glanced at the hacienda, with its illuminated courtyard and balconies. “You don’t have to walk me to my room. I’ll be fine from here, and Finn’s waiting for you.”

Garrett followed her gaze toward the courtyard, where he could make out several shadowy figures on a second-floor balcony. She didn’t want anyone seeing them together, especially when she wore nothing more than a silky bathrobe.

“Okay, fine. I’ll just wait here until you’re inside.”

She nodded and pulled her hand free from his grasp. “Okay. Thanks.”

She didn’t try to kiss him good-night, but she didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, either. Garrett bent his head down to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I, um, ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.”

He waited as she struggled for words, twisting the sash of her robe in her hands. “I just want to know—what is your relationship with Helena now? I mean, it’s been more than two years since—since it all happened. Do you still see her?”

Garrett hesitated. He should just tell her the truth about Helena. She’d be as mad as hell, and he wouldn’t blame her, but he’d make it up to her. But he also knew that now wasn’t the time to come clean. She had a big shoot to do in the morning, a shoot that could either make or break her role as a lead character in the movie. Telling her the truth now might jeopardize her ability to focus on her job. He knew how important it was to her that she impress Finn, and he wouldn’t do anything to ruin that. He might not be able to tell her the whole truth, but he could tell her a partial truth.

He blew out his breath. “Well, here’s the thing…” His voice sounded gruff even to his own ears. “I haven’t seen her since I was airlifted out of Colombia. She sent me a get-well card while I was in the hospital, and I got a Christmas card from her that first year, but since then…nothing.”

Ivy was silent for a long moment, and he sensed her dismay at this news. She’d thought he and Helena were an item; that they were still together.

“Did you try to stay in touch with her?”

Garrett shrugged. “Sure. I sent her a letter once I returned to the States, and she sent me the Christmas card, but after that…well, there wasn’t much point in continuing our…relationship. She wasn’t leaving her mission in Colombia and I wasn’t going back. The chances of our even seeing each other again were pretty remote.”

Ivy studied her hands. When she finally looked at him, her expression was carefully neutral. “I see.”

Garrett arched an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“I’ve heard,” she began carefully, “that sometimes when two people are forced to coexist under extreme conditions or when their very survival is threatened, they can form a short-term, intense relationship that usually doesn’t last beyond the period of endangerment.”

“That’s right,” he agreed. “There’s a third F to the ‘Fight or Flight’theory that no one mentions.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “It’s just survival sex, or end-of-the-world sex.”

“Out-of-this-world sex, you mean,” he murmured, thinking of the past two days.

“What?”

“I just meant that I agree. When your life is in danger and you don’t know if you’re going to survive, you want to reaffirm your own existence. To say, ‘I’m alive, I’m functioning.’And let’s face it, sex is the deepest physical closeness. It’s basic in the most biological sense. There’s no more obvious antidote to death than sex.”

Ivy was silent for a long moment, and Garrett would have given anything to know what was going through her head.

“So what are the chances that you’ll see her again?”

“Helena?” Garrett shrugged. “Like you said—it’s been more than two years. If I haven’t seen her once in all that time, there’s a strong likelihood I’ll never see her again.”

He couldn’t tell if relief or censure made her briefly close her eyes, but when she opened them again, her expression was carefully composed.

“Well, I guess as long as neither one of you had expectations of something long-term or permanent, then there’s no harm done, yes?”

“Absolutely. I can say with one-hundred-percent certainty that neither of us had any such expectations.”

She nodded and tucked a loose spiral of hair behind one ear, her eyes sliding away from his. “Well, I should probably let you go…to Finn.”

“Yeah. Okay. So I’ll see you tomorrow, then. On the set. And, Ivy, these past two days—”

“It’s okay,” she said, interrupting him. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t regret any of it.” Her lips curved in a quick smile. “In fact, I should probably thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well, let’s just say I’ll approach tomorrow’s shoot with a whole new perspective. A whole new attitude, in fact. Wait until you see.” She gave him a smile that was both sweet and sexy and made Garrett want to haul her against him and kiss her senseless. Instead, he watched as she turned and walked through the arched gateway to the interior courtyard. Her hands were thrust into the pockets of her bathrobe and pulled the fabric taut across her curvy butt. He loved watching her; he just wished he wasn’t watching her walk away, leaving him with the distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to be crazy about tomorrow’s shoot. Nope, not one bit.

IVY STOOD ON THE SIDE of the set and nursed a glass of fruit juice as the lighting technicians fine-tuned their equipment. She’d spent the better part of the day on the set, waiting to shoot the love scene. The filming had been delayed due to various technical problems, and they were hours behind schedule. But rather than reschedule the shoot for the following day, Finn had requested that the actors remain on the set until the problems were fixed. He’d had lunch brought in. Ivy had lounged in her dressing room, flipping through magazines and chatting with Carla.