A Scandal So Sweet

Eight

As soon as Zach’s jet landed on the narrow tarmac nestled between tall pines outside of Bonne Terre, Summer bent over her phone and frowned. She saw dozens of texts and voice-mail messages from Sam and several other producers of Dangerous Man, but none from Zach. Gram and her agent had left messages, too. What was going on?

First, she called Sam, who began ranting about pirated scenes and a lunatic Brazilian hacker, before she could even say hello. He spit out words so fast she could only catch half of what he said.

“But how could this have happened?” she demanded after she finally understood the gist. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Somehow the kid hacked into my laptop, that’s how, damn it,” Sam yelled. “I’ve got firewalls. She’s fifteen! That little hacker gave away everything. For nothing! Just ’cause she’s got the hots for Hugh. She’s cost us millions. Maybe cost me my job. She’s denying it, of course, but we’ve got her IP address.”

After more of the same, Sam finally wound down and hung up.

Oh, God, had Zach seen the video? With grim foreboding, Summer listened to Gram’s message.

“Everybody’s been telling me about some love scenes you’re in… What’s going on? Call me!”

Of course, Zach had seen them. Taken out of context, the scenes might look pornographic and might compromise the integrity of the movie, not to mention her integrity as an actress. Summer felt violated, but her main concern was how Zach would interpret those scenes.

With a heavy heart, she listened to Gram’s second message.

“You swore to me you weren’t going to take off all your clothes. And what about Zach? Everybody says you’re his date tonight. Call me.”

She hadn’t been nude. A double had been used in the only nude shot.

Press coverage had caused tension at home before. Why couldn’t Gram learn not to believe all the lies that were printed about celebrities to sell newspapers?

It would be nice to have understanding and support from those who loved her and really knew her. But, no, those closest to her were as easily manipulated by the press as everybody else.

Feeling very much abused and in no mood to explain herself to anyone-not the town or even Zach-she shut her phone off and buried it in the bottom of her purse.

Thibodeaux House was so dark she could barely see it among the trees when Bob dropped her in the drive.

As she was heading up the walk, he called after her. “Hey! Zach just sent me a text. He’ll be here at six to pick you up for the ceremony.”

Fumbling with the keys Bob had handed her, she let herself into Zach’s shadowy house and unset his alarm.

Had Zach seen the pirated scenes? Did he think the worst of her?

Of course, he did. And he was furious, no doubt.

Carrying her bag, she went to her room and threw herself on the bed. There she lay, hugging herself, as she listened to the birds and the creaks of the old house as the light went out of the sky. She knew she should get ready, but she felt too weary to move.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she heard Zach’s car on the gravel drive. She ran to the window and watched him walk grim-faced toward the house.

The front door opened and slammed. He strode briskly into the kitchen. When she heard his heavy tread on the stairs, she sat up warily. He hadn’t even bothered to check on her.

As if he read her mind, he stopped. She held her breath during that interim before he headed back down the stairs.

Finally, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Come in,” she whispered brokenly.

He flung the door open and stared at her across the darkness, his blazing eyes accusing her. When he flipped on the light, she sat up, brushed her fingers through her hair.

“Not ready I see.” His voice was hard and clipped.

“I was tired,” she whispered.

“I can well imagine.” His black eyes glittered coldly.

“I didn’t know what to wear… Or if you’d still want me to go with you…”

“Not go when everybody in Bonne Terre is so anxious to see you?” he said in a low, cutting tone. “Not that you left much of yourself to the imagination.”

“I can explain…”

“I’m sure-but why bother? Besides, my PR guys are thrilled. They say all your internet coverage is great for Torr Corporation.”

He walked over to the luggage rack and unzipped her suitcase. After rummaging through her clothes, he yanked out a low-cut, ruby-red gown that a personal shopper had bought for her in L.A. before she’d known about the pirated love scenes.

“Wear the red. Perfect choice,” he said. “You’ll look the part your legions of fans expect you to play. And you’ll be gorgeous beside me, which is all my PR people care about.”

But what did he care about? Whatever it was, it was devouring him alive.

“Zach, I haven’t seen the videos, so I don’t know exactly what you saw… But I was acting.”

“Save it! I’ll be back down in a minute!”

“Please-I can explain…”

“Sorry. I don’t have time for one of your offscreen Oscar performances. Although you’re good-very good. And you were even better last week-in my bed.”

He slammed the door in her face and was gone. As she listened to him stomp up the stairs, her heart constricted so tightly she was afraid it would shatter into a million tiny pieces. So, he didn’t care how she felt at all.

“You’ll get through this,” she whispered to herself. “You’ve gotten through worse.”

But had she? She’d never gotten over him… Or their precious baby.

Don’t think about that. You’ll go crazy if you do.

Zach didn’t speak to her on the drive over, and he looked so grim and forbidding she decided it was wise to give him time.

She had done nothing wrong. She’d done her job. Actors acted. She hadn’t made love to Hugh for the camera. Her character had. She didn’t even like Hugh. It wasn’t her fault someone had stolen the video.

Something told her Zach’s mood went deeper than jealousy.

The glow that hung over the trees ahead of them brightened as they neared the construction site. When they reached their destination, Zach parked and helped her out of the car. She drew in an awed breath.

The construction site looked nothing like it had last weekend. Transformed into an enchanted fairyland, it was lit by a thousand lanterns. White tents covered dance floors and a dining area. Champagne was being served by a dozen bartenders. Warm laughter and music drifted through the happy crowd. A podium had been set up in front of a thousand chairs.

No sooner had he stopped his Mercedes than reporters and photographers surrounded them.

Taking her icy hand, Zach led her into the thick of the paparazzi where they were blinded by flashes.

His expression fierce, Zach gave the screaming horde a brief statement and posed beside her for more pictures. Then he’d had enough. She hardly knew how he managed it, but with a wave of his hand, his own people led them past the press and into a cordoned-off area where the music and laughter died. For a full minute, she clung to Zach’s arm, while he braved this fresh crowd gaping at them with stunned expressions.

Before those prying eyes, she began to tremble, feeling the same guilt she’d known fifteen years ago when these same people had thought the worst of her and Zach.

“Easy,” Zach whispered against her ear as he placed a protective hand over hers. Then he signaled his contractor and the band, and the music resumed.

We’ve never done anything wrong, she thought. We were wronged.

Slowly, people turned away and began talking once more. Still, even though Summer held her head high, she felt their lingering interest too acutely; just as she felt the steely tension emanating from Zach’s hard body beside her.

Never had she been more conscious of having a spellbound audience. During the politicians’ speeches and the ceremonial breaking of the ground with shovels, people couldn’t stop staring at her and Zach.

She couldn’t let their stares matter. All that mattered was Zach.

Maybe he was furious at her. Maybe he felt utterly betrayed. Never once did he leave her side, but perhaps he was putting on a show for the public. Would he make such an immense effort to show his support merely for publicity reasons?

He even danced with her beneath the softly lit lanterns and moonlight, holding her close, swirling her about while all she wanted was to run home and have him to herself so she could explain.

Instead, he forced her to brave the curious, fawning crowd, forced her to stay until all the important guests and photographers had departed. Only then did he whisper in her ear, in a tone that chilled her to the bone, “The crowd has lost their appetite to devour you. Time for us to go home, sweetheart, and start our weekend.”

Once they were out of the area that had been cordoned off from the paparazzi, the horde chased them to his Mercedes.

A microphone was shoved in her face. “Is Torr your man now?”

“No comment,” snapped Zach as someone snickered.

“When do you plan to make up your mind, Summer?”

Summer felt a jolt as Zach shoved a reporter aside so he could open her door.

A flash went off in her face, blinding her as Zach raced around the hood.

He jumped behind the wheel. “Get your head down. There are cameras everywhere.”

“I thought this was what your PR guys wanted.”

“Yes, they’re probably thrilled.”

A moment later, he sped out of the parking lot with the pack tailing them. Inside his Mercedes, which was lit by the headlights of the paparazzi, Zach was fiercely silent behind the wheel. So fierce, she thought his anger had built during the opening ceremonies. She didn’t dare say a word during that endless drive through that tunnel of trees to his home.

No sooner were they at his house than the photographers circled them, snapping photographs and yelling questions again.

Zach put his arms tightly around her, shielding her face, and escorted her inside.

“I can see that after this, I’m going to have to build a wall and hire guards to protect my privacy,” he muttered once they were in his living room and had drawn the drapes.

“What did you expect, when you asked me to come here as a publicity stunt?”

He double-bolted the front door and turned on her.

“Okay. I got what I deserved-in spades. The PR junket is over. Tomorrow I want you gone. They’ll soon forget.”

“No, you and I know they never forget.”

“Well, I intend to forget. Bob will fly you wherever you want to go. My only request is that you and your bags are on the front porch at 8:00 a.m. That’s when I told Bob to pick you up. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Why won’t you even let me explain?”

“I’m sure you could explain your way out of hell itself, but I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“What about Tuck?”

“I won’t press charges.”

“You just want me gone? Out of your life?”

“That about sums it up.”

“Zach, please-”

“Save it for your true loves-the stage and the press.” He turned on his heel and headed to his room. When his door slammed, she sagged against the wall as he banged about upstairs.

“But they’re not my true loves,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”

In fact, sometimes, such as now, being an actress felt like hell. She was a human being, a woman, whose privacy had been invaded and whose work had been exploited to serve as lurid entertainment for a mass of strangers on the internet. They’d hurt her, but it was Zach, and his refusal to hear her explanation, that ripped her heart out.

An hour later, Summer felt worse than ever as she closed her laptop after having viewed the pirated clips.

The integrity of the film had been compromised by allowing those provocative scenes to be viewed out of context. She felt used and abused as a woman, as well.

She did look wildly enthralled in the videos, but those hadn’t been her real emotions.

After the connection they’d shared last weekend, she’d worried about Zach’s reaction. Maybe she should have explained what was involved in filming sex on-screen for a major motion picture before she’d left for L.A. She should have made it clear that it was work, hard work… That it was far from a sensual experience. But Zach had been so cold and forbidding.

Well, she had to talk to him now; had to do whatever was necessary to make him listen… To make him understand that they had a bond worth fighting for. She wasn’t about to leave him again without doing so. That’s what she’d done fifteen years ago.

Her heart was beating too fast as she pulled on her robe and headed up the stairs. In her anxious state, it seemed that every stair creaked so that he had plenty of warning to throw the bolt against her.

Much to her surprise, when she twisted the knob and leaned against the door, it opened.

She saw the bottle of whiskey on the table beside the bed. A crystal glass glimmered in his clenched hand as he stood by the window.

“Zach, I’m not going until we talk…”

He whirled. “What do you want now?”

“You. Only you.”

“Get out, damn you.”

“You’ll have to throw me out, because I’m not leaving on my own. Not until you let me explain.”

“There’s no need.”

“You’re being unfair…like Thurman and the people of Bonne Terre were to you fifteen years ago.”

“And you!” he said. “You were the star of that public farce, too!”

His words felt like blows.

“I was sixteen. Thurman had been running me so long, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Except stand by him and sell me out.”

“I-I never intended to hurt you. The whole thing just got out of control. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you again.”

She pushed her robe off her shoulders, indifferent as it slid down her arms and pooled on the oak floor. She stood before him in a shimmering, transparent nightgown.

“Last weekend you made me feel so special when you made love to me. I hoped it might be a new start for us,” she whispered, feeling fearful because he was so cold and determined to shut her out.

“Did you now? Well, there is no new start for us. There never was, so put your robe back on and get out.”

Even as his harsh tone ripped through her, she stepped farther into the room, shut his door and then locked it. She was shaking when she flipped off the light. “You’ll have to make me,” she said softly, refusing to lose her courage.

“Don’t think I won’t.” Slamming his glass down on the windowsill, he stormed across the room and seized her by the shoulders. “Listen to me-this ends now!”

She put her arms around his waist, lifted her eyes to his, then laid her head against his chest and clung.

He stiffened.

“Please! Don’t do this,” she begged, even though she felt desperate that he might push her away. “Last weekend…being with you…meant everything… Don’t let the press’s distortions destroy us.”

“Stop it,” he rasped even as he shuddered from her nearness.

Her breath caught. She could tell he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, but he was fighting his emotions. Maybe because he didn’t trust them, or her.

“I can’t. Not until you hear me out. When I saw you at Gram’s that first day, all those weeks ago, something started between us again. At least it did for me. Maybe it never died. I didn’t want to admit it. I had my career, and that was enough. Then you kissed me… And then we made love. Now none of what I had before you is ever going to be enough. I…want you so much. So very much. Even though I live a crazy life that leaves no time for relationships, I want you.”

“What about Hugh?”

“I told you-there’s nothing between Hugh and me now except for a little chemistry on the screen and whatever fantasy lingers in fans’ minds. We never really dated. I became involved with him after Edward, my boyfriend, walked out on me publicly. I knew the press would focus on Hugh instead of my failure with Edward because Hugh loves media attention and encourages it. It seemed less invasive because it was false. Now I see I shouldn’t have used him like that.”

“Those love scenes between you two were pretty hot. When I saw you on those satin sheets, looking up at him the same way you looked up at me, something snapped.”

His face was closed; his eyes had gone flat and dark. She could tell there was a lot he wasn’t telling her.

“I…I can’t even begin to imagine what you felt. I only know that if I saw you give another woman that special smile or look, I’d feel betrayed. Foolishly, I thought I’d be able to explain about the love scenes before you saw them…since Dangerous Man won’t come out for nearly eight months.” She paused. “I’m afraid I was thinking about you, when I was with Hugh in front of the camera.”

“I don’t much like hearing that.” His black eyes impaled her from beneath his dark brows.

“I know it was wrong, but I was turned off by Hugh and my selfish, seductive character. It was the only way I could get the work done… So, in a way, I did use you…use us… But it’s hard for an actress not to use parts of herself to make a role convincing. Our tools are our own emotions.”

“Does the acting ever stop?”

“Yes. Now. This is me, and I’m begging you to give me-to give us-another chance.”

Terrified, feeling naked to the soul after asking this of him, she inhaled a long breath and waited as he considered what she’d said.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, but the anger had gone out of his voice. “Since I was nineteen, when everything I read about us was distorted and used to hang me, I’ve worked hard to keep my private life private. There were, of course, always those reporters who wrote new stories about what I’d supposedly done to you, but mostly my life was a private affair.

“I’ve never dated a famous actress before. Frankly, I never wanted to. But here you are-a bomb that’s gone off in my life. If we date, your career, with all its fuss, is going to take some getting used to.”

“I know. I’m sorry about that.”

“I thought I had my life under control. It was simple. It was all about building and developing and making more money. Then I lost Uncle Zachery. And I saw your tear-streaked face and kissed you on Viola’s porch.”

“See-your work is not so different from my roller-coaster career. Until that kiss, I lived for interesting parts and good reviews and felt like death when some critic said I couldn’t act.”

“I don’t like feeling out of control-or in your control.”

“That’s understandable because I hurt you before,” she whispered.

“I don’t want this…you…us,” he growled. “You’re bad for me.”

“Not according to your PR guys,” she whispered with a smile.

Zach took a deep breath. For a moment, she was terrified that her little joke would backfire, that he was still going to send her away. She wouldn’t have blamed him.

But he smiled. “I should never have listened to them.”

“Were they really the only reason you called me?”

“Point taken. No… But I wish I could say they were. Then maybe I could resist you.”

“That’s not the wisest course,” she whispered.

Very slowly, his arms gentled upon her shoulders. Wrapping her closely against him, he drew her to his bed and pulled her down onto the mattress beside him. For a long time they just lay together in the darkness growing comfortable in each other’s presence.

His nearness calmed her and made her feel safe again.

Then he rolled on his side and began to stroke her lips, her ears, her neck-and lower.

“All night, at the ground-breaking, I was so miserable…because I knew you were going to send me away again.” Her words were muttered shatteringly against the base of his throat, her hands clinging to his shoulders.

His hand traced the length of her spine.

“I thought that this second chance was over before we’d even begun to understand what we feel,” she continued.

“I damn sure wanted it to be over. You’re like a dangerous drug, and I’m an addict.”

His hands were smoothing her tumbled hair out of her eyes. His lips kissed her brow lightly. Then he pulled her fully against him, so that she was pressed against his long, hard length. Again-he felt so right.

While he petted her hair, she poured out the details of her past week in a jumble-the male members of the crew jamming the set to ogle her, a dissatisfied Sam shouting commands, the alienation she’d felt every night in her lonely L.A. hotel room when she’d longed for him to call.

“I know people think I have a glamorous life, but sometimes it just feels lonely. One minute I’m onstage admired by thousands. Then I’m home alone-or vilified in the press.” She buried her lips against the warm hollow of his neck. “Edward couldn’t stand my crazy life, and I don’t think you will be able to stand it, either. I’m good at acting, at fantasy onstage. But so far, ever since we parted fifteen years ago, I’ve never been able to hold on to anything real.”

“Just promise me you won’t act when you’re with me,” he said roughly.

She nodded.

“I don’t want to look at your face and wonder if you’re using an emotion you felt for someone else to make something work for us.”

“I’d never do that.”

“Okay, then.” His mouth fastened on hers with a passion that soon spiraled out of control. He stripped her, stripped himself and flung their clothes on the floor. Then he mounted her, his knees wide. Straddling her thighs, he cupped her breasts.

She ran her hands down his lean torso. How she loved the way his body was hard and warm; how every part of him was gorgeous.

He breathed in rapid pants, and she was just as hot for him.

He kissed her with such desperate urgency she could only imagine he felt as she did. A foil wrapper rustled. Then, with his condom in place, he thrust inside her, each stroke deeper and harder than the last. She clung, arching her pelvis to meet his. Relentlessly, he took her higher and higher until, at the end, he clutched her close. When he shuddered and ground his hips against hers, she cried his name again and again, her release glorious.

For a long time afterward, their bodies spent, they clung. An hour or so later she awoke to find herself still wrapped in his arms. Never had she felt closer to anyone.

This is where I belong, she thought, refusing to consider the secrets she still hadn’t told him.

Some time later he began to kiss her with a feverish need that fueled her own desire into an instant blaze. He licked his way down her slim body, exploring secret feminine places until she felt she was so hot and tremulous even her bones might melt.

Don’t stop, she thought. Don’t ever stop…

After she recovered from the most shattering climax of her life, he made love to her again. Then they napped and made love again, and maybe again. She lost count.

Needs she’d never experienced before made themselves known. Their bodies spoke to each other in a dark, sweet language only they understood. They said things and did things they’d never done before. Things they could only do now because trust was building between them.

They played erotic games, with tied hands and blindfolds. Sometimes their love was rough, but mostly it was gentle. For an endless time, Summer lived in a sensual universe she shared only with Zach. It was nearly dawn when she drifted to sleep in his arms once again.

She felt changed, as if she’d been reborn within the dazzling magic of his love.

At eight o’clock sharp, his phone and doorbell rang at the same time.

They sprang up groggily, laughing when they realized it was morning.

Zach grabbed for his phone, cursing when it wouldn’t stop ringing.

“It’s Bob! How the hell could I have been so crazy as to ever tell him eight?”

She giggled. “You wanted me gone, remember.”

“Strange how that seems a lifetime away.”

He spoke much too curtly to Bob then, who said he was surrounded by paparazzi.

“Poor guy,” she said after he hung up.

“I’ll apologize. But later. He’s too busy keeping the screaming horde at bay.” Zach’s gleaming eyes met hers sheepishly. “Now that we’re up, we might as well make the most of it.”

“First, I’m going to go downstairs and take a shower, brush my teeth…present a more civilized-”

He laughed and grabbed her hand, preventing her from squirming across the sheets and running downstairs. “I don’t want civilized! I want the wicked wanton I had last night all over again, only wilder.”

“Not possible.”

“I’m going to prove to you that you’re wrong. You’re going to stay right here where you belong. Under me. In my arms.”

Unable to deny him anything in that moment, she lay back and waited for him to again turn their world into a fiery wonderland that was theirs alone.