Overnight Sensation (21 page)

She rode him just as powerfully, gripping his hips with her thighs and using them to lever herself up and down on his shaft. Her fingers speared through his hair and she was moaning into his mouth, making small sounds of pleasure and rising need.

He dragged his mouth from hers and used one hand to swiftly undo the little buttons at the top of her dress, all the while maintaining the aerobic pace she was setting.

“I want to see you,” he growled, and pushed the fabric aside until her breasts sprang free. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples were tightly erect, straining toward him. With a groan, he bent his head and drew one into his mouth, suckling her hard. She cried out and arched her back, and he felt her tightening around him, squeezing him until, with a harsh cry, he climaxed in a surge of exquisite pleasure. They stood locked together for a full minute, until his legs began to tremble with fatigue. Through a haze of mindless bliss, he turned and shuffled the few steps to the bed, where his bad leg finally gave out, tumbling Ivy and him onto the mattress.

Ivy still straddled his hips, and her face was pressed against his neck. Her breathing was uneven, and his sounded harsh in the silence of the little cabin. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him, pressing closer.

“I have never done anything so—so—wild in my entire life,” she said breathlessly. “My God, it’s not even fully dark outside.”

“So?”

She pushed her hair back from where it obscured her face and gave him a look of astonishment. “So…I let you touch me there. In the Jeep. While we were driving! Anyone could have seen us.”

“The doors were on and the top was up,” Garrett reassured her, struggling to catch his breath. “Even if anyone was looking—which they weren’t—they couldn’t see anything. Which reminds me…what did Franz say to you on the set?”

“What?”

“Franz Keller said something to you when he handed you the call sheet for tomorrow. What was it?”

She was quiet for a moment, before she withdrew her limbs from where they were entwined around him and slowly pushed her skirt back down over her legs. “Nothing. He’s just a thoughtless jerk.”

But Garrett knew from the subdued tone of her voice that it wasn’t something good. He stood up, disposed of the condom and pulled his jeans up over his hips. “Fine. If you don’t tell me, then I’ll ask him.”

“No. Wait.” Ivy sat up and grabbed his wrist. “I’ll tell you. Only, please don’t say anything to him. He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just looking out for the project, and that’s his job, right?”

“What did he say?”

She regarded him for a long minute, and Garrett could see the distress in her eyes before she chewed her lower lip and gazed down at her hands. “He said he knew my M.O. is to sleep with my leading man, and he doesn’t really mind as long as it doesn’t interfere with his production schedule.”

“Son of a bitch.” Garrett didn’t care who the little bastard worked for; he was going to pay him an un-pleasant visit. He yanked the zipper up on his jeans. “Wait here. This won’t take long.”

Ivy leaped to her feet. “What are you going to do?”

Garrett hesitated. Her eyes were wide and filled with dread, and he realized that he’d only make things worse for her by interfering. Just like that, the fight went out of him. “Come here.” He drew her close.

“I don’t think he actually meant to insult me when he said it,” she insisted, her voice muffled against his chest. “It’s just what people expect from me.” She gave a laugh of self-disgust. “I haven’t let them down.”

Garrett pulled back and gazed into Ivy’s eyes. “Is that what you think?”

She looked at him silently.

“Jesus, Ivy.” He set her at arm’s length. “How many movies have you made?”

She shrugged. “Ten.”

“And how many of those have resulted in a relationship with a costar?”

Her eyes begged him not to continue, even as she tried to edge away from him, but he refused to release her.

“How many, Ivy?”

She made a sound of frustration and resignation. “Three, okay? I was involved with three of my costars.”

“Three,” he breathed, “over the course of how many years? Four? Five?”

As if he didn’t already know.

“Something like that.”

Garrett tipped his head to look into her face. “That hardly qualifies you as ‘Fire crotch of the Year.’”

Her eyes widened and then she grinned. “Where did you hear that term?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, refusing to be sidetracked. “The important thing to remember is that you’re human, and you’re subject to the same foibles as the rest of us.” He let his gaze drift over her features. “There are worse things in life than falling in love.”

“But that’s just it,” she protested, searching his eyes. “I only thought I was in love. I let myself be influenced by the characters we were portraying, and by the surroundings.” She gestured helplessly. “What I felt wasn’t love. Just a cheap Hollywood imitation of it.”

She sounded so miserable that Garrett couldn’t help but hug her. “Listen to me. We all make mistakes. If you knew half the things I’ve done…” His voice trailed off. Even if he wanted to tell her about his military experiences, he couldn’t. “Let’s just say I’ve done shit because at the time it was the right thing to do. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t spend your life regretting your past or you’ll miss out on your future.” He put a finger beneath her chin and raised her face, studying her. “Got it?”

She wrapped her fingers around his hand and a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You don’t think less of me for those past relationships?”

“I’d be lying if I said they didn’t bother me,” he finally acknowledged, his voice rough. “The fact is, I’m jealous as hell of the men you’ve been with, because I know a bit of you will always belong to them.”

Ivy disentangled her fingers from his and moved away from him, scrubbing her hands over her face. “This is crazy,” she muttered. “I’ve only known you a short time. How can I feel this way about you?”

Garrett stilled. “How do you feel, Ivy?”

She turned toward him, and her eyes shimmered. She shrugged helplessly and her voice was little more than a whisper.

“Like I’m falling in love with you.”

SILENCE FILLED THE SMALL cabin.

Ivy stared at Garrett, hardly daring to breathe. She still couldn’t believe she’d uttered the words, but he had that effect on her. She felt as though she’d known him for so much longer than the short time they’d been in Mexico. It was as if they were connected on a level she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. She’d felt an affinity with him from the first day they’d met, and it had only grown stronger during the time they’d been together.

Now, as she saw him stand so still, so stunned, her chest constricted. She’d just made a huge mistake.

Again.

Mortification, hot and swift, flooded her veins, followed by a chilling sense of loss. How could she have been so stupid? If she’d just kept her mouth shut…if she hadn’t blurted out her feelings…

She needed to get out of there before she did something she’d really regret, like start to cry.

“I—I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too soon.”

Before he could protest, she bolted for the door. Her bare foot kicked his wallet where it still lay, and she automatically bent to retrieve it.

“Ivy, wait—”

“Here,” she said, thrusting it blindly at him.

As she did so, the contents slid out and Ivy watched helplessly as credit cards, money, several receipts and a folded photograph fluttered to the floor.

The event galvanized Garrett into action. He lunged at the same instant Ivy hunched down to scoop up the photo.

“I’ll have that,” he said, and grabbed for her hands.

But Ivy had already seen what he was attempting so desperately to retrieve from her. She couldn’t prevent a small gasp of astonishment as she snatched the photograph away from him and held it just out of reach, while letting him keep the other items. She was only vaguely aware of him sitting down heavily on the floor, his shoulders sagging.

“Where did you get this?” She unfolded the snapshot, smoothing her fingers over the dog-eared corners and deep creases. “How could you have this?”

It was the photograph she’d taken with her to Walter Reed Army Medical Center two years ago when she’d visited her brother.

She’d also brought flowers and magazines, hoping to cheer him up, not understanding that he wasn’t going to recover. In the end, she’d left just the photograph, placing it gently on the blanket that covered him. He’d snapped the picture of her the summer before his last deployment, and had been ridiculously pleased with the results.

“I’d carry it with me,” he’d joked, “but all the guys would hound me for your address. I’d never have any peace.”

Seeing the photo again brought forth all her suppressed memories, and hot tears blurred her vision. She turned to look at Garrett. His arms rested on his bent knees and one hand swiped wearily at his face.

“Where did you get this?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

He made a helpless gesture, and even through her tears she could see the resignation and defeat on his chiseled features. “I shared a room with your brother.”

“What?” She still didn’t understand.

“I was in the bed next to his at Walter Reed,” he continued. “I’d just been airlifted out of Colombia and had undergone surgery on my leg.” He raised his head to her, and Ivy noticed compassion in his eyes. “I was there when your brother died. I saw you leave the photo.”

She frowned as she fought her tears, trying vainly to recall her brother’s hospital room and the man who’d occupied the other bed. The memory was hazy—she’d kept it buried for so long—but it was there. She struggled to bring it to the surface, and when it finally came into focus, she eyed him in astonishment.

“It was you!”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you seemed so familiar to me…I remember your eyes. You looked right at me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, my God.” Her breath emerged in a hard rush, and she felt weak. “You stole my photo.”

Garrett pushed himself to his feet. “Now, wait just a minute. I did not steal it.”

Ivy, too, rose to her feet. She held the photo out to him, unable to keep the accusatory tone from her voice. “Then tell me how you have this.”

“It fell off your brother’s bed and landed under mine. A couple of days later the cleaning guy found it and put it on my side table.” He met her gaze without flinching. “I’ve kept it ever since.”

“Why?”

He stepped toward her and his hands closed around hers.

“Why do you think?” His voice was low and fierce.

She shook her head, staring at him in bemusement. “I’m not sure, but I do know one thing—my being here to film your story is no coincidence. Is it?”

He didn’t answer, but she heard his deep sigh. He didn’t look at her. Wordlessly, he gathered up the items on the floor and took the photo from her, then replaced them in his wallet, turning it over in his hands before shoving the wallet into his back pocket. She could see he struggled to form a reply.

“What?” she asked. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. “What is it? Why am I really here?” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Why do I get the sense that my being cast in this role has nothing to do with my acting skills and everything to do with you?”

When he finally looked at her, Ivy couldn’t deny the truth in his eyes. They were filled with so much regret and resignation that she wanted to cry out in denial.

“Ivy…”

“Oh, my God. It’s true,” she whispered, one hand at her throat. “That’s it, isn’t it? What did you do, Garrett? Refuse to let Finn make the movie unless they cast me?”

“Damn it, Ivy, would you slow down for just a minute and let me explain?”

Ivy flung her arms wide, too shocked and hurt to hear the growing impatience in his voice. “Explain what? That I wasn’t hired on my own merit? That this was all a big setup, and I’m nothing more than an elaborate booty call?”

“You know that’s not true.” His voice was low and edged with an anger that Ivy couldn’t miss but was just reckless enough to ignore.

“Then what is the truth, Garrett? Because I don’t know anymore. What did you think—that since I have a history of sleeping with my costars, I’d be an easy lay for you?”

She didn’t actually believe her own words, but she felt an irresistible urge to lash out at him. She knew she’d hit her target when he flinched, but he refused to back down.

He grasped her by the upper arms and gave her a little shake. “If the only thing I wanted was casual sex, I wouldn’t have to come all the way to Mexico to get it,” he growled. “I already told you. This is real. You want more truth?”

The expression on his face was so taut and his eyes so intense that Ivy’s breath caught. She tried to look away, to break free, but found herself mesmerized.

“You’re here because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Before he died, Devon asked me to watch over you. Trust me, it was no hardship. Since the day I saw you in that hospital, there’s been nobody else.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Call me crazy—you wouldn’t be the first. But trust me when I say that my feelings for you are real.”