The Talk of Hollywood (13 page)

Unfortunately, as Jaxon had already pointed out, just starting up the engine had brought three of her grandfather’s guards running to where the motorbike was parked at the back of the house. Quickly followed by the humiliation of having the keys to the motorbike taken from her before being escorted back inside.

With the added embarrassment that Jaxon now knew exactly what she had planned on doing too. ‘Obviously I didn’t really think beyond the idea of going to London to see my grandfather,’ she accepted guiltily.

‘Obviously!’ Jaxon gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘You could have been killed, damn it!’

In retrospect Stazy accepted that her method of leaving Bromley House really hadn’t been a good plan at all. Not only had starting the engine sounded like the roar of an angry lion in the stillness of the night, but there had still been no guarantee that she would have found it any easier to leave by the back road. She would never know now.

No, in retrospect, taking the Harley hadn’t been a good plan at all. And, if Stazy was being honest, she now admitted it had also been an extremely childish one.

Why, oh, why did just being around Jaxon make her behave in this ridiculous way …?

She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘I just feel so—so useless, having to sit here and wait for news from my grandfather.’

Jaxon’s expression softened. ‘I’m sure Geoffrey is well aware of exactly how you feel, Stazy—’

‘Are
you?’
she said warily.

‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Look, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning, and no doubt the kitchen staff all went to bed hours ago. So why don’t the two of us go down to the kitchen and make a pot of tea or something?’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Tea being the English panacea for whatever ails you?’

He shrugged. ‘It would seem to work in most situations, yes.’

It certainly couldn’t do any harm, and Stazy knew she was still too restless to be able to sleep even if she went up to bed now. ‘Why not?’ she said softly as she crossed the room to precede him out into the hallway.

The house was quiet as Jaxon and Stazy crossed the
cavernous entrance hall on their way to the more shadowy hallway that led down to the kitchen, with only the sound of the grandfather clock ticking to disturb that eerie silence.

A stark reminder, if Jaxon had needed one, that it was very late at night and he and Stazy were completely alone.

And if Stazy believed there had been no repercussions for him after having to walk away from her earlier this evening then she was completely mistaken!

A fifteen-minute cold shower had done absolutely nothing to dampen Jaxon’s arousal. Nor had sitting at the desk in his bathrobe to read through the notes he had already accumulated for the screenplay. Or telephoning his agent in LA and chatting to him about it for ten minutes.

None of those things had done a damned thing to stop Jaxon’s mind from wandering, time and time again, to thoughts of making love with Stazy in Geoffrey’s study.

As he was thinking about it still.

Self-denial wasn’t something Jaxon enjoyed. And walking away from Stazy—not once, but twice in the past two days!—was playing havoc with his self-control!

The cosy intimacy of the warm kitchen and working together to make tea—Jaxon finding the cups while Stazy filled the kettle with water and switched it on—did nothing to lessen his awareness of her. Not when his gaze wandered to her constantly as the slender elegance of her hands prepared and warmed the teapot and he all too easily imagined the places those hands might touch and caress. The smooth roundness of her
bottom in those black fitted denims wasn’t helping either!

‘Feeling any better?’ Jaxon prompted gruffly, once he was seated on the other side of the kitchen table from Stazy, two steaming cups of tea in front of them.

‘Less hysterical, you mean?’ She grimaced.

He shook his head. ‘You weren’t hysterical, Stazy, just understandably concerned about your grandfather.’

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged with a sigh. ‘Still, I didn’t have to be quite so bitchy about it.’

‘You? Bitchy?’ Jaxon gave an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. ‘Never!’ He placed a dramatic hand on his heart.

She smiled ruefully. ‘You aren’t going to win any awards with
that
performance!’

‘No,’ he acknowledged with a wry chuckle.

Stazy sobered. ‘Do you think my grandfather is telling us the truth about this threat?’ She looked across at him worriedly. ‘It occurred to me earlier that he could be using it as a smokescreen,’ she continued as Jaxon raised one dark brow. ‘That maybe this screenplay and the making of the film might have brought on another heart attack …?’

‘Why am I not surprised!’ Jaxon grimaced ruefully. ‘Do you seriously believe your grandfather would lie to you in that way?’

‘If he thought I would worry less, yes,’ she confirmed unhesitantly.

Unfortunately, so did Jaxon.

Although he honestly hoped in this instance that wouldn’t turn out to be the case. ‘Then it’s one of those questions where I can’t win, however I choose to answer it. If I say no, I can’t see that happening, then you
aren’t going to believe me. And if I say it’s a possibility, you’ll ask me to consider dropping the whole idea.’

Stazy was rational enough now to be able to see the logic in Jaxon’s reply. ‘Maybe we should just change the subject …?’

‘That might be a good idea,’ he drawled ruefully.

She nodded. ‘As you probably aren’t going to be able to speak to my grandfather about it for several days yet, perhaps you would like to tell
me
what it is you found earlier and wanted to talk to him about …?’

Jaxon gave a wince. ‘Another lose/lose question as far as I’m concerned, I’m afraid. And it seems a pity to spoil things when we have reached something of a truce in the last few minutes …’

‘It’s probably an armed truce, Jaxon,’ Stazy said dryly. ‘And liable to erupt into shots being exchanged again at any moment!’

‘Okay.’ He grimaced. ‘Curiously, what I’ve found is something the reporter who wrote the biography seems to have missed altogether …’

‘Hmm …’

Jaxon raised one dark brow at that sceptical murmur. ‘You don’t think he missed it?’

‘What I think,’ Stazy said slowly, ‘is that, whatever you found, my grandfather will have ensured the reporter didn’t find it.’

‘You believe Geoffrey has that much power …?’

‘Oh, yes.’ She smiled affectionately.

Jaxon shook his head. ‘You don’t even know what this is about yet.’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t need to. If my grandfather left some incriminating papers in the library for you to look at then he meant for you to find them.’

That made Jaxon feel a little better, at least. ‘There were two things, actually, but they’re related.’

Stazy looked down at her fingertip, running it distractedly around the rim of her cup as she waited for him to continue.

He sighed. ‘I found your grandparents’ marriage certificate for February 1946.’

‘Yes?’

‘And your father’s birth certificate for October 1944.’

‘Yes?’

‘Leaving a discrepancy of sixteen months.’

‘Two years or more if you take into account the nine months of pregnancy,’ she corrected ruefully.

‘Yes …’

The tension eased out of Stazy’s shoulders as she smiled across at him. ‘I’m sure that there are always a lot of children born with questionable birth certificates during war years.’

‘No doubt.’ Jaxon was literally squirming with discomfort now. ‘But—’

‘But my father’s place of birth is listed as Berlin, Germany,’ she finished lightly.

‘Yes.’ Jaxon breathed his relief.

‘With no name listed under the “Father” column.’

‘No …’

‘Meaning there’s no way of knowing for certain that Geoffrey was actually his father.’

‘I didn’t say that—’

‘You didn’t have to.’ Stazy chuckled. ‘It would have looked a little odd, don’t you think, to have the name of an Englishman listed as the father of a baby boy born in Berlin in 1944?’

‘Well, yes … But—’

‘More tea, Jaxon?’ She stood up to put more hot
water into the teapot before coming back to stand with the pot poised over his cup.

‘Thanks,’ he accepted distractedly. He had been dreading having to talk to any of the Bromley family about his discovery earlier today, and especially the unpredictable Stazy. Now, instead of being her usual defensive self, she actually seemed to find the whole thing amusing. To the point that he could see laughter gleaming in those expressive green eyes as she refilled his cup before sitting down again. ‘Like to share what’s so amusing …?’

‘You are.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head as she resumed her seat. ‘You’re aged in your mid-thirties, Jaxon, a Hollywood A-list actor and director, and yet you seem scandalised that there might have been babies born out of wedlock seventy years ago!’ She grinned across at him.

‘I’m not in the least scandalised—’

‘Um … protesting too much, much?’ she teased, in the manner of one of her students.

Jaxon eyed her frustatedly. ‘These are your grandparents we’re talking about. And your father.’

‘Geoffrey and Anastasia never tried to hide from me that my father was actually present and sixteen months old at the time of their wedding,’ she assured him gently. ‘We have the photographs to prove it. Which I can show you tomorrow—later today,’ she corrected, after a glance at the kitchen clock revealed it was now almost two o’clock in the morning. ‘If you would like to see them?’

‘I would, yes.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll look them out in the morning.’

‘So what happened?’ Jaxon said slowly. ‘Why didn’t
the two of them marry when Anastasia knew she was expecting Geoffrey’s child?’

‘They didn’t marry earlier because Anastasia didn’t know she was pregnant when she was dropped behind enemy lines in late February 1944. By the time she realised her condition she had already established her cover as a young Austrian woman, recently widowed and bitterly resentful of the English as a result, and it was too late for her to do anything but remain in Berlin and continue with the mission she had been sent there to complete. She always maintained her pregnancy actually helped to confirm that identity.’

‘My God …’ Jaxon fell back against his chair.

‘Yes.’ Stazy smiled affectionately. ‘Of course my grandfather, once informed of Anastasia’s condition, ensured that she was ordered out of Berlin immediately.’

‘And she refused to leave until she had finished what she went there to do?’ Jaxon guessed.

Stazy met his gaze unblinkingly. ‘Yes, she did.’

‘She went through her pregnancy, gave birth to her son, cared for him, all the while behind enemy lines under a false identity that could have been blown apart at any moment?’

Her chin tilted. ‘Yes.’

He gave an incredulous shake of his head. ‘God, that’s so—so—’

‘Irresponsible? Selfish?’ There was a slight edge to Stazy’s voice now.

‘I was going to say romantic.’ Jaxon grinned admiringly. ‘And incredibly brave. What a woman she must have been!’

Stazy relaxed slightly as she answered huskily, ‘I’ve always believed so, yes.’

Jaxon nodded. ‘And so you should. You’re very like her, you know,’ he added softly.

‘I don’t think so, Jaxon.’ Stazy gave a choked laugh. ‘Even in her nineties Anastasia would have made sure she got on that Harley tonight and somehow managed to ride it out of here, despite all those guards trying to stop her!’

‘Maybe,’ he acknowledged dryly. ‘But you definitely gave it your best shot.’

She shrugged. ‘Not good enough, obviously.’

‘Choosing the Harley for your first attempt was extremely gutsy.’ In fact Stazy’s behaviour tonight was so much more than Jaxon would ever have believed possible of that stiffly formal and tightly buttoned down Dr Anastasia Bromley he had been introduced to six weeks ago. ‘So you think Geoffrey meant for me to find the marriage and birth certificates …?’

She nodded. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Why?’

Stazy gave a rueful smile. ‘For some reason he seems to trust you to do the right thing …’ she said slowly, knowing there was no way her grandfather would ever have put the reputation of his darling Anastasia in the hands of a man he didn’t trust implicitly.

Something she should probably have appreciated more while resenting Jaxon these past six weeks.

He leant across the table now, to take one of her hands gently in both of his. ‘And do
you
trust me to do that too, Stazy?’

She did trust him, Stazy realised as she looked across the table at him. That silver-grey gaze was unmistakably sincere as it met hers unwaveringly.

Yes, she trusted Jaxon—it was herself she didn’t trust whenever she was around him!

Even now, worried about her grandfather, frustrated at not being able to leave the estate, Stazy was totally aware of Jaxon as he held her hand in both of his. Of the roughness of his palm, the gentleness of his fingers as they played lightly across the back of her hand, sending a quiver of awareness through her arm and down into the fullness of her breasts and between her thighs. Warming her. Once again arousing her …

‘I trust my grandfather’s judgement in all things,’ she finally said huskily.

‘But not mine?’ Jaxon said shrewdly.

Stazy pulled her trembling hand out of his grasp before pushing it out of sight beneath the table, very aware of the heat of awareness singing through her veins. ‘It’s late, Jaxon.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘And tomorrow looks as if it’s going to be something of a long and anxious day. We should at least try to get some sleep tonight.’ She picked up their empty cups and carried them over to the sink to rinse them out before placing them on the rack to dry.

All the time she was aware of Jaxon’s piercing gaze on her. Heating her blood to boiling point. Her legs trembled slightly, so that she was forced to resort to leaning against the sink unit for support.

‘Stazy …?’

She drew in a deep breath, desperately searching for some of the coolness and control that had stood her in such good stead these past ten years. Searching and failing.

‘If something I’ve said or done has upset you, then I apologise …’