Undercover Heat (25 page)

“Jesus, she looks incredible
,
” Manny said, with wide eyes. “The fans are crazy about her.”

“Join the club,” he said to himself, as he watched the pandemonium. It took every bit of his acting abilities not to react to her. Even yards away, the woman appealed to his every sense. He could smell her, his fingers twitched with the need to touch her and brush her copper hair from those bedroom eyes.

The Deacon and Lizzie hovered on either side of her. He was glad she had their support, and maybe somehow they’d buffer the madness if he couldn’t. But as far as he could tell, she was doing fine on her own. With her shoulders back and chin held high, she stepped out to the middle of the carpet. Her smile was easy. She laughed and shook hands.

“Wow, I love that dress,” Stacy said. “And where did she get the jewelry?”

Ty smiled. “Beats me.” He licked his lips, watching the light reflect from diamonds and sapphires hanging from her earlobes. They were more beautiful than he imagined. The hell with the rules. He had to talk to her, just once. And maybe get her alone, kiss her.

“Hey Ty! You look great!” Earl shook his hand and let it linger for photo op sake. “I’m pretty pleased with the turnout.”

Ty could tell by his smirk that he meant the press more than the party’s guest list. “Yeah, well you’
re the hostess-with-the-mostest
. How about we head inside and send all these people home?”

“Now Ty, remember this is a press event. Which means you and your costar need to say ‘cheese’ first.”

“Carrie over here!”

“Lexie Love! Show us a smile.”

“Turn around Carrie Ann!”

The crowd grew louder as Carrie came closer. Most chanted her name and urged her to pose with him. Lizzie hung in the shadows with the body guard and her father. Ty tried to catch her attention, but caught her father’s daggers instead.

“Come on, Ty
,
” Earl said. “Get y
our co-star and strike a pose.”

And in that instant, the carpet seemed to clear, the distance between him, only feet instead of yards. An energy surged within him, weakening his legs and stole his breath.

“Get together!” The crowd shouted, using both their real and characters names to coax them. Ty took a chance and held out his hand, but she surprised him by pulling him close and wrapping her arms around his waist.

The shock of her touch almost knocked him to his knees. Her eyes twinkled like stars, and her skin glistened in the spotlights. Sliding her hand over his arm,
she laid her head on his chest.

“Over here you two!

“Carrie Ann, this way!”

“Kiss her, Jax! Kiss her!”

Photographers, at least ten deep, collected in front of them. The ropes bulged as they heaved forward in a wave, and then gave way in a snap. People fell forward in exited shock, before the burly armed guards herded them back behind the barrier.

“It’s like a riot
,
”
h
e heard Carrie say, with the slightest tremble in her voice. Reflex responded by pulling her closer, and he hadn’t realized he done so until she subtly resisted. Grabbing his hand, she stepped out to arms length, doing a full thr
ee-sixty to show off her dress.

“You look beautiful,” he said when she spun back in his arms. “Earl is right about you and blue.”

“Thank you, I like it myself.” Her tone was all business. Not something he was at all used to, and something, he discovered, he despised. Even her body felt foreign against him. Stiff, rigid. He was a prop in her scene, and when she wrapped her hands around his neck and smiled up at him with fake adoration, he felt mo
re like screaming than smiling.

“You know how much this is killing me,” he croaked through his best showbiz smile. “Not being able to talk to you. Or touch you.”

“Hmm, interesting thing to say to your co-star when your date is a few feet away.”

“She’s here as a favor. I thought she’d deflec
t the attention from us a bit.”

Carrie placed her hands on his chest and adjusted her pose. “It doesn’t look like it’s working.”

“I need to talk to you, Carrie.”

Really?” she uttered, through a smile. “I have a few things to say myself.”

“Just one kiss!”

“Come on you two!

“Hey J
ax and Lexi, give us a smooch!”

He looked down at her. Her eyes reflected the bright city lights and the flashbulbs that continued to pop. She smelled like lilacs and night air, a combination so incredibly arousing, he was sure if he wasn’t careful, his smile wouldn’t be the only giveaway about how happy he was to be with her.

And suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing her lips to his. It took all the willpower he possessed not to really kiss her, taste her with his tongue, run his hands all over her. When she slipped away, a puff of cold air swirled around him. Her fingers traced over his, as she moved around him toward the door, disappearing up the r
ed carpet and inside the hotel.

“Wow, you really are a good actor.” Manny slapped his back on the way by. Ty cursed, following him and Stacy through the entrance.

*
**

Carrie hadn’t seen such extravagance in a long time, and she hated to admit she liked it. It amazed her that her father hadn’t said one thing derogatory all night, even engaging in polite conversation. Things were going smoothly. Almost too smoothly. But the night was young, and there was no sense expending energy questioning it, given the extended performance the occasion required.

“My goodness this place is beautiful.” Lizzie pulled her black silk wrap around her. “I did a lot of parties in my day at the Waldorf, but this tops them all.” She studied a gigantic ice sculpture in the shape of a flame of fire. Spouting from the top ran a stream of champagne.

“It looks like they pulled out all the stops,” Carrie said. The entire place was lit by candlelight, either with large candelabras or small votives in elaborate, blue, rose center-pieces. Along the wall hung gigantic posters of her and Ty from various photo shoots and episode stills, with spotlights attached at the bottom.

“So what do you think? “Earl asked, handing Carrie a chardonnay and Lizzie what looked like a ginger ale. “We went all out.”

“I can see that,” Carrie said. “There certainly are a lot of people here.
”

“You bet. Network executives, press people.” He took a step closer and glanced around the room. “There’s also a bunch of film producers here. They’re clamoring for a big screen reunion.”

The excitement was evident on Earl’s face, and she hated to be the one to squelch it. But there was no way on God’s green earth she would co-star with Ty doing anything. Scripted or otherwise. “Good luck with that.” Carrie raised her glass.

“Hey listen, what do you think it would take for Ty to tickle the ivories a little? That would impress the hell out of everyone.”

“Ty plays the piano?” Lizzie asked. “Huh, he doesn’t seem the type.”

“But not for people,” Carrie corrected. “That’s more of a personal thing.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He jammed the last of his stuffed mushroom in his mouth. “Well, holler if you need anything. I think I’ll drop in on your partner in crime and see how he’s doing.”

Carrie scanned the room. Ty stood at the bar with a drink in one hand and his date in the other. As usual, surrounded by a sea of penguin suits and well-dressed woman, all with eyes focused on him. She could tell by his posture and the way he gestured, his party demeanor had kicked into high gear. When he laughed, they did, and when he raised his
glass the rest of them did too.

Earl descended the stairs in front of her, and suddenly her head began to swim. It had started that morning, and despite her best efforts to keep at least crackers in her stomach at all times, she realized that once again her morning sickness would be more of an any-time-of-day kind of deal.

“Carrie,” Lizzie asked. “You okay?”

Again, she glanced down at the bar to where Ty stood. As if sensing her, his gaze locked on hers. “I’m fine,” she finally said. “I think I just need something to drink.”

“And eat,” her sister emphasized as they made their way down the stairs.

She looked at Lizzie and back at Ty who pretended to do anything but look back. Again, her focus seemed to swim, and she shook her head to right it. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s go find something to eat.”

“God, quit staring, Harvey. She’s just a woman.”

Harvey leaned on the bar and wiped the syrupy liquor from his fake moustache. The thing felt like a caterpillar crawling across on his face, but he couldn’t take the chance of the Simmons guy recognizing him. Getting past security was enough of a pain in the ass, but now that he had, he was happy just to sit and enjoy the top-shelf bourbon. It would probably taste even better if he didn’t have Layla yammering in his ear.

“Hey, dip shit, are you listening to me?

Man, tonight was his golden opportunity. One he had waited far too long for. If he played his cards right, he would leave this soirée with pictures and a story he could retire on. He could give up this stint a paparazzi. He missed his old hobbies. Ones where payment was guaranteed. He sipped his drink and pictured a Brazilian beach with topless companions smearing him with cocoa butter. After putting up with a Whack-job all this time, t
hat’s exactly what he deserved.

“I don’t get what’s so great about Carrie
,
” Layla said. “She’s short, she has red hair. Look at those men. They’re falling all over her.”

Harvey turned on his stool. Carrie stood at the foot of the stairs, with a guy having a conversation with her cleavage.

“I thought men preferred tall blonds,” she grumbled.

Harvey
looked back at Layla. Tonight she opted for the long brunette wig and conservative black dress that covered all the good parts. She also wore glasses and a shit-eating grin that Harvey couldn’t help feeling good about. Tonight was the night he’d score. He’d snap his pictures, get his story and give Layla the boot. Tall blonds, hell. Broads like
her weren’t worth the trouble.

“Hello, are you deaf? I’m talking here.”

Harvey signaled to the bartender. “Why don’t you have another drink and chill out for a while. After dinner is when we’ll make our move.”

“Why not now? How do I know I won’t be recognized?”

“You won’t be. Relax.”

She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “You know I thought you’d be a little better company, consid
ering tonight’s the big payoff.
”

“Which reminds me. When am I seeing my money?”

“After tonight, lover
,
”
s
he cooed then licked her lips with a seductive wink. “Besides, I thought you were more interested in the benefits than the salary.”

He groaned, more out of frustration than lust. Once again, he’d let his small head dictate instead of his big one, and now he was getting screwed in a way he hadn’t bargained for. He glanced across the bar at Carrie Ann, smiling and laughing with a herd of guys gawking at her. Tonight, he’d get what he deserved one way or the other. This time he wasn’t walking away empty handed.

“Looks like it’s time for dinner
,
” Layla purred in his ear. “Perfect. Plotting makes me hungry.”

“I have a serious appetite myself,” he mumbled before tearing his gaze away from Carrie and making his way to the press dining room.

Chapter Seventeen

Carrie sat at the bar, sipping on ice water, her stomach bubbling in her throat. She struggled to eat at dinner, a fact that drew a few concerned eyes, including Ty’s, who hovered, pretending he wasn’t. Her sister and father just leered, a normal occurrence when it came to her appetite. She’d probably be drilled about it later by one or both of them. Biting down on an ice cube, she smiled. Now that was one conversation she wasn’t looking forward to.

“You okay?” her father asked, resting his hand on her shoulder. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m just tired, I guess.”

“You should be, holding up a front like this.” He brushed a hair away from her face, and nodded toward the crowd behind him. “Look at this debauchery. The drinking, the carousing. Watching that half-naked girl climb all over Ty is turning my stomach.”

Carrie sucked in an ice cube and took a bite. Of course, she noticed the way Ty and his date had carried on all night, especially in front of the invited press. If she was there as a favor, watching her jam her tongue down his throat didn’t do much to invoke her gratitude. “She's here as a screen, Daddy.”

“Who?”

“That girl.” She turned in her seat and nodded toward Ty’s entourage at the far end of the bar. “Her name is Stacey, I think. She and Ty are friends, but I think she’s here as more as a favor to me than anything else.”

Carrie watched the girl nuzzle Ty’s neck, and run her fingers down the lapel of his tux. He was smiling, but in a guarded way. The one he used when he was in front of the camera. “I know it’s hard to explain, but Earl probably arranged it to get the spotlight off me. Studios in old Hollywood used to arrange dates
all the time for press’s sake.”

She could tell by the snarl on her father’s face that he wasn’t buying it. She probably wouldn’t either, if she were him. But right now staying on her father’s good side wasn’t a top concern. There were other things to worry about. Like keeping down the few bites of prime rib that she forced down at dinner.

“Daddy, I think the band is starting up again, and Lizzie told me how she looked forward to dancing. How about you go find her?”

“Are you sure?”

Over his shoulder, Carrie saw a man hovering. He had been all night, in a creepy kind of way, that in any other situation where the security wasn’t so tight, she’d avoid him. But he wore a press identification tag, and given what the event was for, she was obligated to talk to him. Tonight was a business engagement plain and simple, and she had a job to do. “Go ahead and dance.” Carrie urged her father. “Lizzie will love it. I should talk to a few people, anyway.”

“Fine, one song.” He kissed her on the cheek, and disappeared in the crowd. She mentally cringed when the seedy man sauntered up, and slid onto the bar stool next to her. “Excuse me, Carrie Ann Langley?” He set his scotch down on the bar, and extended his hand. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited
for an opportunity like this.”

“Good to meet you, Mr
.
-.”

“Tills. Hank Tills. I’m a reporter for ‘It’ magazine.”

“
Well,” she said, accepting his hand shake. “A pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled, his yellow teeth showing between his chapped lips. “No, believe me Miss. Langley, the pleasure is all mine.”

Carrie waited while he took a noisy slurp of his drink. He eyed her over his glass, and a shiver passed through her body. She knew the look. The lustful one, some men had at parties like these, where women were expected to be as fast as scene implied. Usually Ty was around to police a situation like this. She wasn’t used to fending for herself.

“So, your costar has a pretty hot date,” he said. “Why didn’t you come with one?”

“Oh, well I came with my family instead.”

“Really, what’s the problem? No boyfriend?”

Carrie thought that over. Saying ‘no’ would give him hope and a ‘yes’ would probably require proof, or at least an explanation. At that moment she didn’t have the mind or the stomach to summon her improvisation skills, so she opted for the generic, “no comment” angle. “Maybe we should talk about the show,” she said sweetly. “That’s what
we’re here for anyway, right?”

“That dress is sexy as hell on you,” he said with a voice too low for her comfort. “And man, do I love redheads. You’re staying here at the Ritz, Miss Langley?”

She resisted her urge to gag. “What?”

“How about you answer that after we share a drink.” He winked and patted her knee, before signaling a bartender at the far end of the bar.

“Who’s the jerk-off with Carrie?” Ty grumbled, craning his head over the crowd. “He’s had her cornered at the bar
for,”
he checked his watch, “thirteen minutes.”

“Her father was just with her a second ago
,
” Manny said. “How much trouble can she get into with that guy standing guard?”

From where Ty stood at the opposite end of the bar, he could see the Deacon with Lizzie on the dance floor. Figured. Langley hadn’t left Carrie alone all night, and he chose now to do a cha cha with her sister. “I’ve got a bad feeling,” Ty said. “I’m going to talk to Carrie.”

“No!” Manny pulled him back by the arm. “Look man, you’ve avoided a scene this long, don’t mess it up now. If you want to talk to her, you can do it later. Catch her on the way out, or something.”

“Is everything okay?’ Stacey wrapped her arm around Ty’s neck.
“You guys look a little tense.”

“Nothing to worry about, honey.” Ty kissed her quickly for show and looked back at Carrie. The jerk was admiring her earrings. Ty ground his teeth, when he saw his fingers brush her skin. The guy sported a press tag, but there was nothing business about his smile. Horny. Like the only thing holding him back was a room full of people, and even that didn’t
seem like much of a deterrent.

Ty’s fingers constricted around his tumbler as if choking the guy’s neck. The glass shattered in a million pieces, sticking to his clammy hand. “Damn it!” He shook the shards to the floor. His palm stung with blood. Snagging his handkerchief from his pocket, he wrapped it around the wound.

“Are you okay?” Stacey asked.

“He’s fine,” Manny said more to the concerned onlookers than to her. “Go to the bathroom and take care of that before the press reports a near fatal injury.”

With his eyes still fixed on the two at the bar, Ty pushed through the crowd to the hallway. He turned the corner to the restrooms, when a hand snaked around his arm.

“Need a little help, baby?”

The voice almost knocked him from his feet. He spied the red nails gripping his sleeve, before his gaze slowly lifted to hers. The long brown hair was unfamiliar, but the narrow eyes were unmistakable. “Layla, how the hell did you get in here?”

“Wasn’t hard,” she cooed. “You’d be surprised how many people out there sympathize for a woman scorned.” She kissed his cheek and took a step back, leaning low to flash him her cleavage. “The bathroom is empty by the way if you have a minute.”

“What happened? Marcy drive you straight?”

She smiled. “Go ahead and take your cheap shots. But I’m the one who’ll have t
he last laugh.”

Ty’s stomach churned, and his hands fisted at his sides. “So you did set us up, huh? You had us followed, dug up dirt, spread rumors.” His heart pounded in his chest. “Why, Layla? What do you want from me?”

“Everything.”

Ty stole a glance at the bar, before Layla gripped his chin and dragged his eyes back to her. “You know, I didn’t want things to go this far. But
Harvey can be very persuasive.”

“Harvey, huh
?” Ty chuckled. “Who’s Harvey?”

“He’s a big fan of “Undercover Heat”, well of Carrie’s anyway. That’s how we met. Through a fan
site.” She shook her head and frowned. “It’s shocking, they let sex offenders chat on line, especially to make plans to do something a lot like what got them tossed in jail in the first place.”

“So what are you telling me? That you hooked up with some pervert and decided to come after Carrie and me for kicks? Is that it?”

She shrugged. “I admit I have
my own agenda and he has his.”

Ty took a deep breath to steady himself, before jamming his fisted hands in his pockets. “If you think yo
u can get away with hurting her...
”

“Not me, Ty. Harvey. And if you have a bone to pick, he’s right over there.”

He followed Layla’s blood red finger to Carrie, and the seedy
man still chatting at the bar.

The bartender delivered a round of drinks, and they lifted their glasses in toast. In the instant they knocked glasses, Ty realized where he had seen the guy before. He was the creep that was hangi
ng around that day in New York.

And he was the guy who took the picture of him and Layla.

Ty pulled free from Layla’s grasp, and pushed his way through the crowd. He had them in his sights, when he saw the guy lean over, dumping a hin
t of white powder in her drink.

***

“Son of a bitch!”

Carrie almost fell from her stool when she heard Ty’s voice. She turned just in time to see him pounce on the man beside her, and wedge his head against the bar.

“Carrie, put the glass down!”

“What are you doing?”

“Put it down!” Ty knocked it from her hand and smashed it against the bar. Flying shards drove Carrie’s head around, and when she turned back, Ty held the jagged neck to
Harvey
’s jugular. “Answer me you fucking bastard! What the hell
kind of game are you playing?”

“Jesus, what’s going on over here?” Manny yelled over Ty’s shoulder.

“This guy just slipped something into her drink.”

“What?” Carrie wip
ed the moistness from her lips.

“We were just talking!” Harvey said, with his hands in the air. “I
’m a reporter for Christ sake.”

“You’re a thug and you work for my ex-wife!” Ty yelled. “Your name’s Harvey and Layla’s paying you with my money, isn’t she?”

“Hey wait a minute!” Earl pushed through the crowd of people, and ripped off his glasses “You’re him! You’re the reporter for ‘It Magazine’! The one who interviewed me! The guy who doesn’t exist.”

“You son of a bitch!” Again Ty rammed Harvey’s head against the bar just as security swarmed. Two burly guards wrestled the man out of Ty’s grasp, and held him by the arms.

“Carrie Ann, you didn’t drink
any of that did you.” Ty asked.

“No!”

“Are you sure? Not even a drop?”

Now wasn’t the time to inform him of the real reason she wasn’t drinking wine. So she left it at that. “I said, no!”

“What’s going on over here?” Deacon Langley demanded. “Honey, are you all right?”

“This asshole just tried to slip something in her drink.” Ty took her by the hand and pulled her off her stool. “Come on, Carri
e Ann. I want you out of here.”

“No one is going anywhere, until we all set a few things straight!”

Carrie gulped when she heard the familiar feminine voice. When she turned around, two hundred sets of eyes settled along with hers on the long-haired brunette, striking a pose at the top of the stairs. “Surprise!” she said, with a bottle of champagne held high in a toast. “Happy gala, everyone. Consider yourself crashed!”

She pulled off her wig and tossed it like a Frisbee. It hit a waiter in the face, sending him to the floor with his tray full of brandies. “First of all, I’m not one that usually does this kind of thing. I don’t have to. I’m Layla Hollister after all.” She nodded in Ty’s direction. “My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail. Right, sweetheart?”

She took a gulp from the bottle then descended the three steps to the landing, in front of the bar. The crowd scurried out of her way, as if making room for a street fight until all that occupied the ring was Ty, Car
rie, and her.

“I’ve never hit a woman,” Ty seethed, “but for you I might make an exception.”

“Ty leave her alone
,
” Manny said. “Let security take care of her.”

“You’d love that wouldn’t you, Ty,” Layla taunted. “Let security sweep me under the rug, so you all could have your little party. Well, you can’t just cast me aside like a broken toy. The crash and burn way you live your life has consequences, and I deserve some consideration.” Her narrowed eyes locked on Carrie’s, and she smiled. “And now I’m here to collect.”

Security pushed through the onlookers and grabbed Layla by the arms. She kicked and bit until one took aim with pepper spray. Carrie gasped and stepped in between them. “Wait!” she heard herself say. “Let her talk. I want to hear what she has to say.”

“Carrie, are you crazy?” Her father grabbed her by the shoulder. “Let security take care of this.”

“No, if she has a problem with me, I want to hear it, here and now. I’m beginning to see that your issue with Ty has more to do with me than anything else anyway,” Carrie said, taking a step toward her adversary. “So, no more tabloids, and no more paparazzi. How about we
settle this once and for all?
”