Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) (8 page)

BOOK: Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3)
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“You’ve
seen how she is. There isn’t a pretentious bone in Mom’s body.”

“I
know. Callie made me feel welcome the moment I stepped into her home. Five
minutes later, I almost forgot I was sitting next to an Academy Award winner.”
Sable’s eyes widened. “Holy crap,” she laughed.

“What?”

“You
were nominated.”

Colt
chuckled. “But I didn’t win.”

“You
will.”

Delighted,
and a little surprised, Colt turned. “You think so?”

“It’s
simply a matter of time.”

Sable
stared out the window at the city lights. From here, they saw only beauty. She
knew ugly things happened out there, but while they sat, alone and quiet, none
of it could touch them.

“I
need to hit the sack.” Colt stretched his arms over his head. “We need to leave
at four.”

“No
problem.”

“That’s
A.M.”

“Colton.”
Sable patted his hand before rising. “My father woke me every morning at five.
Every day. Rain or shine. Summer, winter, spring, and fall.”

“Why?”
he asked, obviously horrified.

“Discipline.
He tried the same thing with my mother but stopped after their first few years
of marriage. She threw things at his head.”

“What
did you do?”

“Me?”
Sable found it an odd question. “I got out of bed.”

Colt
stayed seated after Sable closed her bedroom door. His body relaxed while
thoughts of Sable raced through his mind. She was a complicated woman. A fact
that intrigued him. More and more, he wanted to find out what made her tick.

Who
was Sable Ford? At times, she seemed open, friendly, and uncomplicated. A
beautiful, intelligent woman with no hidden secrets.

Then
there was the soldier. Looking at her, Colt found it difficult to believe that
she was a warrior. A trained killer. He had seen her in action. Taking down
Nate during a simulated fight didn’t count as real combat. However, his brother
outweighed Sable by over a hundred pounds. And he trained with the best martial
artists in the world. It took her less than five minutes to put Nate flat on
his back. Then she did it again.

He
didn’t think Sable realized it, but her comment about her father gave him the
first glimpse into her past—and what helped mold Sable into who she was.

The
woman was scary tough. Steel—with the softest skin he had ever touched.

Colt
groaned. Soft skin, so close and out of reach. It wasn’t the best thought to
take to bed. On the other hand, he decided with a grin, it wasn’t the worst.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

AFTER THE FIRST day of shooting, Sable wondered how she would
stand weeks of the mind-numbing routine. She dreaded another day of sitting and
watching nothing happen.

Whoever
thought this was a glamorous business was out of their mind.

Sable
decided that actors needed the patience of Job. Each scene took forever to
prepare and only a few minutes to film. Sometimes, seconds.

Someone
always fussed around Colt. If someone wasn’t retouching his makeup or styling
his hair, wardrobe was there to swap out one shirt for another the second it
showed the slightest sweat stain. God forbid if his public found out that the
sexiest man alive was mortal. Perspiration was considered rugged in an action
flick, not in a romance.

The
first sign of a glistening upper lip and everything came to a crashing halt.
Sable didn’t know how Colt could stand it.

“Want
to see how we set up a shot?”

“I
would love to.”

Grateful
for a reason to move around, Sable smiled at Kiki Donahue. Earlier, Colt had
introduced her to the assistant director. The number of smart, energetic women
working on the movie was impressive. Clearly, the Landis family respected
talent and didn’t let gender get in the way.

After
she had motioned Sable over, Kiki showed her the proper way to look through the
camera.

“That
is where the big breakup scene is taking place.” Kiki pointed to the park
bench. “We’ll film it later this afternoon.”

An
hour earlier, the bench hadn’t existed. Sable had watched as three crew members
built it from stacks of wrought iron and wood.

“I
don’t understand. We’re in a real park. Why not use one of the pre-existing
benches?”

“This
area has the bush.” Kiki pointed to the flowering shrub located directly behind
the newly constructed seat. “It will perfectly frame our fictional lovers just
as the sun sets. When we leave, the bench stays.”

With
Kiki’s explanation in mind, Sable took another look through the camera.
Everything looked different through the lens. Suddenly, she easily pictured
Colt and his co-star playing out the emotional scene.

“You
love what you do.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s
been my dream for as long as I can remember.”

Pretty,
with long, coal-black hair, Kiki Donahue had the looks to be on the other side
of the camera but not the ambition. She wanted to create images on film that
moved people to laughter and tears. And every emotion in between. To do that,
she planned to use her brain, not her face.

“Thank
you.” Sable stepped back. “It gives you a completely different perspective.”

“From
here, I can make the world as beautiful or as ugly as I choose.”

“Power.”

“Yes.”
Kiki turned, her eyes sharpening. “Not many people get that.”

“Sometimes
the people around us want to push us down. They take advantage of their power
to make us feel small and insignificant. When you find a place to be in charge,
never let go, Kiki. And use
your
power to help, not hurt.”

Sable
took a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to say those things. The past had a way of
jumping up when least expected.

“Wow.”
Kiki laid a hand on Sable’s arm. “Let’s get a drink one day soon. You can spill
your guts, and I’ll spill mine.” When Sable hesitated, Kiki shrugged. “Or we
can drink a lot of tequila and get shit faced.”

“After
the movie wraps?”

“It’s
a date.” With a wave, Kiki jogged off.

“I’d
like to hear your secrets. With or without the tequila.”

Colt.
Where had he come from? She wasn’t doing a very good job if she lost track of
her client.

“My
secrets are as boring as I am.”

“Then,
not boring at all.”

Colt
moved closer. Close enough for her to see little flecks of silver in his eyes.

“You
never know,” Sable teased.

“I
know more than you think.” Colt traced the curve of her jaw, his finger
stopping at the corner of her mouth. “You should kiss me.”

“Give
me two good reasons.”

Colt
smiled. “Easy. One? That’s what couples do. Two? You want to.”

“I
do?”
Silly question. Of course, she did
.

“Mmm.”

Slowly,
their eyes locked, Sable took his arms and placed them around her waist.

“No
arguments?” Colt asked, his hands settling on her hips.

“No.”
Sable brushed her lips against his. “I’m your girlfriend. It’s time to enjoy
the perks.”

Colt
groaned. Sable’s lips were soft, opening against his. She tasted sweet. Like
peppermint and Coca-Cola. His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting. Again and
again.

“Don’t
stop,” she whispered.

Never
. Why would he when he’d dreamed
of holding her this way? Slender and strong. Silk and steel. So warm. Colt
couldn’t get enough. He would never get enough.

“I
hate to interrupt.”

“Then
don’t.” When Sable tried to pull back, Colt held her tight. “Rene called a
ten-minute break.”

“It’s
been eleven.”

Colt
sighed. Still holding Sable, he turned his head. Nigel Locke, Rene’s assistant,
sent him a sheepish smile.

“I’ll
be right there.” Kissing Sable’s cheek, he reluctantly stepped back. “To be
continued.”

Sable
leaned in and whispered. “That one will have to hold you, pretty boy.”

Colt
didn’t respond, but his smile spoke volumes. He’d had a taste, and he planned
on having more.

Shaking
her head, Sable lightly touched her lips. They tingled with the lingering
warmth of Colt’s imprint. Sable watched him leave, a spring in his step. She
wasn’t fooling him or herself. Why fight it? They would share more than a kiss.
And soon. And she planned on enjoying every second.

“His
interest never lasts long.”

Sable
didn’t keep up on the latest Hollywood buzz, but she recognized Candice
DeMarcco. Colt’s co-star had the kind of box office clout that almost equaled
his. Dark haired, with chocolate brown eyes, according to Janis Mainard, she
was the current rom-com darling. She played sweet, likable women the audience rooted
for and cheered as love inevitably conquered all.

Janis
hadn’t pulled any punches when describing what she called
the real Candice.

“Vicious,”
Janis said with no preamble. “Oh, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth if she
wants something. She sidles up to new friends like the proverbial snake. Then
boom. When she has finished sucking as much from her victim as possible, she
moves on. Candice DeMarcco has burned more bridges than Sherman on his way to
Atlanta.”

Sable
took Janis’ words with a grain of salt. There were always two sides to a story.
No one knew that better than she did. She knew what had been said about her
when she left the Army. The rumors that circulated. Rumors that she couldn’t
completely shake.

She
refused to judge anyone based on rumor and innuendo.

“We
haven’t met. I’m Sable Ford.”

Candice
ignored her outstretched hand. The actress stepped closer. It was a tactical
error. Sable topped her by a good six inches. It was difficult to get the upper
hand when she needed to tip her head back to look her adversary in the eye.

“Nice
name,” Candice smirked. “Are you a stripper or an actress wannabe?”

Okay.
Candice was a bitch. Sable felt her open mind closing. Quickly.

“At
the moment, I’m Colt’s girlfriend,” Sable smiled slowly, her eyes cool. She
pulled her shoulders back, adding another inch to her height. “Good luck taking
my place. The line stretches about ten miles to the rear.”

“Oh,
now I get it. You’re a comedienne. You aren’t pretty enough to be eye candy.
Colt keeps you around as his court jester.”

“I’m
a regular Jack Benny.”

“Who?”

“Oh,
now I get it,” Sable drawled, mocking Candice. “You’re the brunette equivalent
of a dumb blonde.”

Sable
watched as Candice’s face turned an interesting shade of red.

“I
could have you thrown off the set like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“You
could try. But if you want to get into Colt’s pants, that isn’t the way to do
it. Run along, little girl.” Sable flicked her hand in the general direction of
the park bench. “You bore me.”

“This
isn’t over.”

Sable
wasn’t impressed. The last time someone said that, she had an actual reason to
worry. Then again, a major in the Army held more clout than this year’s Hollywood
sweetheart.

“What
burr did you put under Candice’s saddle and where do I get one?” Janis watched
Candice stalk off, mumbling expletives under her breath.

“Sadly,
it appears there are no pajama parties in our future.”

“If
this were the first grade, the teacher would write,
Candice does not work
well with other girls.

Sable
laughed. “And boys?”

“She’s
very
popular—until she isn’t. Candice’s shelf life is around two months.”

“That
long?”

“She
starts to go bad around week six. By the end, she stinks up the joint.”

“Hollywood
rumor mill?” Janis seemed well versed on Candice DeMarcco.

“Yes,
and a few close friends who she chewed up, spit out, and ground under her heel.”

“Isn’t
it difficult to play her best friend?”

“I’m
an actress.” Janis winked. “A damn good one.”

 

SABLE KEPT HER encounter with Candice to herself. She saw no
reason to tell Colt. He had to work with the woman—pretend to be in love with
her. Sable planned on avoiding her, and the subject, as much as possible.

Colt’s
day ended early. After the big park bench scene, he was free until seven o’clock
the next morning.

“Do
you want to go out for dinner?” he asked as they walked toward his car, hand in
hand.

Casual
touching did not come naturally to Sable. To Colt, it was like breathing.
Another trait his parents passed down to their sons.

He
brushed her cheek, rubbed her arm, held her hand. He wasn’t trying to be
provocative. The gestures were friendly and casual. And they stirred something
deep inside her that Sable couldn’t identify.

“Your
refrigerator is bursting with food. Shouldn’t we eat some of it?”

“Do
you cook?”

“No.
But I can manage a salad.”

“That
will do. To start. I’ll take care of the rest.”


You
cook?” Sable didn’t try to hide her amazement.

“I
do.” He paused by his car. “Wanna drive?”

Her
eyes lit up. Snatching the keys, she pushed him to the passenger side and into
the seat. In a flash, she zipped around the car and slipped behind the wheel.

“Hello,
you sweet baby.”

Colt
grinned. He wasn’t one of those men who believed his car was a sacred piece of metal
and chrome—to be driven by him and him alone. He cared for it, kept it in prime
condition, but if he believed someone was capable of handling the powerful
machine, he didn’t mind sharing his ride.

He
didn’t hesitate about letting Sable take control of the Maserati. He trusted
her with his safety—in and out of the car.

“You’re
sure?”

“Would
it matter?”

“Nope.”

They
shot out of the parking lot and onto the backroads of Los Angeles. Sable
shifted like a pro, taking the corners at speeds that were not strictly legal
but a hell of a lot of fun.

“There’s
a racetrack about half a mile from here. I know the owner. Want to take a few
laps?”

Sable’s
grin widened, her dark eyes sparkling with the excitement of a child on
Christmas morning. Colt called ahead, and soon they were racing around the oval
in their borrowed crash helmets, Sable’s whoops of joy punctuating every turn.

Colt
didn’t watch the track. He watched Sable. Her face glowed. And all he could
think of was how sweet her lips must taste at that moment. Slightly parted and
curved, her smile wide and infectious. He knew the one on his face was an exact
match.

“I
don’t think that would ever get old,” Sable said an hour later. She drove at a
more sedate pace through the downtown traffic, but the excitement still rang in
her voice.

“Going
in circles?”

“The
speed. The power.”

“We
can go back anytime you like.”

“Thank
you, Colt. But once was enough.”

Colt
could see her battling temptation. However, the disciplined soldier in her won out
over the daredevil. Now that he knew her weakness, he planned on laying
temptation at Sable’s feet as often as possible. Speed and power came in many
forms. Wait until he showed her a few tricks in bed that would blow her mind.

Sable
parked in the underground garage. Patiently, Colt waited while she went through
her familiar bodyguard routine.

“No
kidnappers under the SUV?” he asked when she opened the passenger door.

“Your
smartass remarks can’t kill my buzz.” Sable followed him into the elevator, her
eyes diligently watching the shadows.

“That’s
good to hear because I’m carrying a major buzz myself.”

In
a flash, Colt had Sable pinned against the wall. His lips covered hers, and
ruthlessly he took advantage of her gasp of surprise by plunging his tongue
into her mouth. Hot velvet. Sweet. Colt groaned. No dream could match this kind
of reality.

The
kiss went on and on. Colt changed the angle to find another spot, another
taste. He sighed with pleasure when Sable tugged, freeing her hands. Not to
push him away, but to pull his hips against hers. The slow grind of their
bodies was a fully clothed sexual act. It teased and excited. Thank God his bed
was nearby. He didn’t want their first time to be on the floor of an elevator.

“I
need you, Sable. Say yes.” Colt felt ready to beg. To plead. To fall to his
knees and grant any wish just to hear that one little word.

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