Page 94 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

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The lines on Logan’s script blurred.

Letters shifted, rearranging themselves before his very eyes. He blinked and scratched his nose with annoyance.

It had been three hours since he’d dropped Jane off at the store. Despite the army of people that waited to prepare them for the night ahead, he’d needed to set aside time for the big scene that was filming at the end of the week.

It was the culmination of his character’s story, the moment where everything — including his motivation for killing a man — rested. It was the revelation that would, if done correctly, send shock-waves rippling through the audience.

There were only two twists that had gone down in the history books prior, two that were referenced over and over again: that of Chinatown and The Sixth Sense, but with this, it was hoped that there would be a third.

It was for this scene that Logan had signed up for the movie.

But the work was proving more troublesome than he had anticipated. His focus was off, and if he were to be honest with himself, he knew where it had gone.

To a woman who knew nothing yet was twisting her way around his heart.

He had acted ridiculously this morning, when he’d demanded to meet her friend and proceeded to interrogate her as if she were a criminal, yet he hadn’t been able to control himself. He’d needed to know that Clare wasn’t anything other than she had appeared to be.

He’d been rude, he knew that, but it wasn’t until she had revealed her fiancé’s betrayal, and saw the hurt that still stung her eyes, that his concerns had been set aside.

With it, the guilt had come.

It seemed the least he could do after causing that unexpected upset was to gift her a dress as an apology. He’d had no real choice: it would have been adding salt to the wound if Clare had to spend the morning trying on clothes (he’d known she would — what woman wouldn’t, put in the same position?) only to leave with nothing.

A smile tugged the corner of his lip when he pictured their faces as they learned of his surprise.

Jane had been cool to him today. It was that damn kiss and his reaction afterward that had drawn her frosty ire. Didn’t she understand that he was trying to protect her? Trying to do the right thing?

Her coolness had disturbed him and made him retreat into his own shell.

Movie stars — in particular male action stars — had it drilled into them that they could never show any weaknesses or discomfort. He had to be strong at all times. When she’d blown past him that morning with barely a look tossed his way, he’d pulled out his phone and pretended to focus on it, despite not being able to make out a single line of any email.

There had been too many people in the room for him to be able to talk with her, and by the time they were on their way to the store, it seemed the moment had passed.

He didn’t like how much she was getting under his skin. There was so much at stake here that she wasn’t even aware of.

A vein throbbed in his temple and he closed his eyes, blocking out the words that were the bane of his life. Without even trying to, an image of Jane came into his mind.

He saw her at the store, standing in a sea of dresses, laughing with the kind of wild abandon he had yet to see in her tightly controlled movements.

She was an enigma.

So many of the things she said, even the way she moved, seemed at odds with each other. He saw the openly delighted way in which she had tasted his food, and the outburst she’d made at Adele this morning when the other woman had overstepped her line. But then a flash of her trembling body and white face reappeared. He saw that lowlife executive yelling at her in front of the entire crew — and how she hadn’t said a word to defend herself.

It was almost as if she were two people.

One who yearned to be free, while the other kept a tight rein on her emotions and words. He had spent years studying body language with some of the most renowned teachers in the world, and her conflicting behavior was a puzzle. He wasn’t convinced he could put down those conflicting sides of her to the memory loss.

There was something else going on with her that he was determined to find out.

And it was going to start with tonight’s ball.

Tonight, he would get to know the real Jane who hid beneath the layers of protection she wore around herself.

* * *

Hands were touchingher almost everywhere, it seemed.

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