Page 109 of The VIP Doubles Down
Gavin hesitated, remembering the pain of being abandoned by the women he loved. He’d just clawed his way out of that pit, so why did he want to risk hurling himself back into it again?
Because this was Allie. The muse who broke through his writer’s block. The sprite who answered his snark with sass. The woman who met his passion with fire. The healer who laid her hands on his damaged body and spirit and made them whole.
She would never betray his trust.
“Allie,” he said, his throat so tight he had to clear it. He let his hands slide down to her shoulders, running his thumbs along the fragile collarbones under the cream of her skin. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, except:Stay. Always.But it was too soon for that. “I know you think this isn’t real, what we have out here. But it feels real to me. I don’t want to lose it, to lose you, when we go back to the city.”
He stared up at the candles suspended over their heads for a moment, trying to recall the words he’d composed earlier. “Damn it, writing the words is so much easier than saying them.”
“You won’t lose me,” she said, her eyes picking up flickers of candlelight while her lips curved into a soft smile. He wanted to kiss them in the hope that he could transfer his thoughts directly to her mind. “I want this to be real, too,” she said. “It’s just hard to believe it can be.”
He tightened his grip on her, as though that would keep her from slipping out of his emotional grasp. “Why do you find it so hard to believe that I would want you to stay with me?”
“Because there’s a world of difference between you and me.”
What could he say to convince her? He gave up on words and pulled her to him, kissing her with all the longing pent up inside him. She melted against him, her body pliant and sweet under his roving hands. When they made love, he felt as though she was his, with nothing held back. Maybe he could persuade her more effectively in bed.
“I found you, you son of a bitch.” Someone seized his shoulder from behind.
Gavin tore himself away from the delicious feel of Allie and turned, shielding her with his body. “Hugh? What the hell?”
The actor’s blue eyes blazed with anger. “What the hell is right! What the hell is going on with you? You tell me there’s no Julian Best book or movie in the works. I agree to be released from my contract and sign on for a different job ... in freaking Russia, for God’s sake! And now some snot-nosed soaps actor tells the casting director he’s there to audition for the upcoming Julian Best film!”
An answering anger ripped through Gavin. “There’s no film.”
“Then why the blazes did a wannabe named Troy Nichols show up in Gail’s office, tossing your name around and declaring there’s going to be a movie? Not only that, it’s set at Christmas. That seems like more than a coincidence when you’re working on a holiday story right now.”
Behind Gavin’s back, Allie gasped and jerked under the hand he was using to hold her there.
Suddenly, all the things he thought he knew about Allie were smothered by a dark fog that rolled through him, clogging his lungs, blurring his thoughts, making his heart struggle to beat in his chest. Something seemed off-kilter, but he couldn’t figure it out as he suffocated under the sense of betrayal.
He released Allie’s hand and stepped to the side, leaving her exposed to Hugh. “Any mention of ghostwriters?” he asked the enraged actor.
Hugh nodded, his lips in a tight line. “You said you’d never allow it.”
“Evidently, you chose to believe a—what was it?—snot-nosed soaps actor over your old friend,” Gavin said. As much as he wanted to see Allie’s reaction, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“Let’s just say that Nichols had a lot of details to back up his story. Greg believed him enough to send me out here to track you down.”
“Greg has Jane’s number.” Gavin was grasping at straws, trying to stave off the inevitable conclusion that Allie had used him to help her ex-husband.
“Jane stonewalled him. Told him she had no idea what he was talking about.”
“Maybe because it’s all a pack of lies,” Gavin said.
Hugh pulled his cell phone out of his tuxedo’s breast pocket and held it out to Gavin. “Tell Greg that.”
“Did you perhaps not notice that we are at a party?” Gavin said. “I don’t make business calls when I am supposed to be enjoying myself.”
He felt Allie slip her hand into the crook of his elbow and give it a gentle tug. “Why don’t you take a moment to reassure Hugh?” Allie said. “I’ll go find Chloe and Miranda.”
When he glanced down, he found her face turned up to his, her expression a strange mix of anger, worry, and confusion. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded and lifted his arm to indicate she should remove her hand.
She started to rise on her toes to kiss his cheek, but he shifted away. A stricken look darkened her eyes, and she hurried away across the sand without even acknowledging Hugh.
“That was some ugly body language from you,” Hugh said, watching Allie leave. “Especially since not five minutes ago you were so engrossed in kissing her that I practically had to assault you to get your attention.”
Gavin followed her exit, too, unable to tear his eyes away from the shimmer of her hair and the swirl of her gossamer skirt around her slender ankles. “Troy Nichols is her ex-husband.”
