First Take (Star-Taken) (17 page)

Well, then, it just wasn’t meant to be.
Rachel slammed the door on the doubts. Right now, her family needed her. She’d concentrate on that and the rest would take care of itself.

“Hopefully, a move will serve me as well. Except instead of leaving town, I’m coming back.”

Rachel walked to the window overlooking the trees of the park. It was so peaceful, unlike her life. “I’m sure that makes Mom and Dad happy, but aren’t you concerned about what everyone else will think? I mean Richmond’s not Houston.” While the town was all but a suburb of the bigger city, she wouldn’t label it progressive.

“See, that’s your problem, Rachel, you
worry too much about other’s opinions. There’s deeper meaning to Dad’s words about us being our own people and doing what makes us happy. Yeah, it means be yourself and follow your dreams, but the ‘despite what others might think’ is implied.”

“Is tha
t what you and Dad share on those fishing trips I don’t go on,” Rachel faced Stephen and crossed one leg over the other while leaning against the windowsill, “the philosophical musings of the Harrington men?”

He laughed. “You’re jealous now
, aren’t you?”

She waved a hand
. “Nah. I’ll still take a comfy seat where I can read a book next to a window in an air-conditioned house. Like people, bugs find me attractive.” She stuck out her tongue as Robert moaned. Then they both burst into laughter.

A sense of peace washed through Rachel. Her love life might stink and her dad’s health might not be perfect, but both things had brought her closer to her brother.

“What’s all this laughing I heard from down the hall about?” Mom asked, pushing the door completely open and holding the curtain aside so the orderly could wheel Dad into the room.

“
We were discussing my moving back.”

Dropping the curtain, Mom smiled.
“Yes, now if we could get Rachel home—”

Rachel
said, “As if” at the same time Robert snorted and Dad said, “Now, honey.”

Everyone laughed
and Rachel had to admit having family around was nice. While she had friends in New York, they weren’t the same as family, and for some reason, the thought of returning alone to that brownstone apartment didn’t hold the same appeal as it once had.

She shoved the melancholy away. Once she w
as home with her own bed and personal belongings surrounding her and life returned to normal, the emotional upheaval would sort itself out—she hoped.

~ * ~

FIFTEEN

Rachel opened the door to her apartment and stepped into the stale air that had accumulated during her time in Texas. Dragging her bag behind her, she dropped a pile of mail and her keys in the basket on the table near the entry and continued into the living space. After letting go of the handle to her luggage, she headed to the air conditioner. Fresh air circulation was a must.

She flipped on the unit
—its soft hum filled the space with a pleasant hum—then stared out the window overlooking the street below. Had it really only been a couple of weeks since she’d stood down there making an idiot of herself in front of Stephen Raymond? She’d stayed in Texas an extra week after Dad was released from the hospital and had even managed to finish a project for work, but she’d needed to get back to some notes and documents she’d left on her desktop here. Plus, all that family time had begun to wear thin on her nerves. True to his word, Stephen hadn’t come after her and hadn’t called.

Did you seriously expect him to, Rachel?

Expected? No. Hoped. Maybe.

With a sigh, she turned and went into the kitchen. The refrigerator had been near bare when she’d left
, and it hadn’t miraculously filled itself while she was gone, which meant she either needed to order take-out or walk to the corner market and stock up on the necessities: milk, yogurt, bread, fruit and lunch meat. Take-out tempted her, but in the end, a light refreshing meal sounded better so she dragged her butt out of the apartment, down the three flights of stairs, and to the store.

When she returned home a half hour later, two
deliveries rested on her doormat, a brown paper-wrapped box and a large bouquet of daisies and yellow roses—her favorites—that put to shame the small one of pink carnations and tiger lilies she’d picked up at the market. One of the neighbors must’ve buzzed in the delivery guy. Her heartbeat picked up. Had Stephen sent the gifts?

Get a grip, Rachel.

How would Stephen know her favorite flowers? More than likely, her brother had sent them to cheer her up. Besides, it wasn’t as if Stephen even knew she was back in the City, and why would he have waited this long to contact her? She opened her door and stepped over the gifts. After putting the groceries and small bouquet down on the counter, she retrieved the flowers and box.

With unsteady hands, she set the presents on the counter beside the groceries
, the cellophane around the flowers crinkling. A card nestled between two yellow roses. Weaving through the thick, de-thorned rose stems, she located the plastic stick holding the little envelope and freed it from the arrangement. Removing the card, she set aside the prong. The name of a local florist was stamped on the envelope but nothing else. She slid a finger under the seal, opened the flap then pulled out the card. It simply read,
Welcome home
.

She smiled. The flowers had to be from Robert. Her parents
, the only other ones who even knew she’d flown back to New York today, would never have put “home” on the card. What was in the package though? She’d kill for a piece of Belgium chocolate. The corner grocer didn’t carry the brand she liked.

Tearing
through the wrapper revealed a La Perla gift box. Her mouth went dry even as her knees weakened.
Stephen.
He’d promised her a set to replace the panties he’d ruined their first day together.

But La Perla?
Talk about extravagant.

Without opening the box, she started putting
away groceries. What did it mean? Was he ending their relationship by fulfilling this promise, or was this his way of bridging the silence between them? The panties he’d ripped apart hadn’t cost anywhere near whatever was in that box. She could probably buy a week’s worth of matched sets for the cost of one item from La Perla. Should she open it or send it back?

Rachel
headed to her purse to get her phone. How the heck had Stephen known when to send the packages? She assumed the flowers had come from him as well. After swiping her thumb across the screen, she dialed her brother.

“
Hey, sis. Miss me already?”

She snorted
, heading to the window to look out over the near-empty street. “As if. Did you happen to have a conversation with one Stephen Raymond, and during that conversation, did you mention when I was flying home?”

“You should’ve gone to law school, Rach.
You and Nate could’ve gone into practice together.” At her moan, he chuckled. “Or at the very least been a private detective.”

Even though he couldn’t see, she rolled her eyes.
“How’d you get his number?”

“
Or maybe I should’ve been the private eye.” If he’d been in the room with her, she’d have thrown something at him when he laughed again. “I got it from your phone. Your lock wasn’t all that hard to break.”

She huffed. “I’ll have to remember to change it when I get off the phone with you.”

“You do that.” He sounded smug, like no matter what torturous combination she devised, he’d puzzle it out.

“So besides telling him when I was getting home
and that yellow roses are my favorite, what other information did you share with him?”

“Uh-
uh. I’m not playing middle man here. I merely called to tell him when you were arriving. The rest of it is up to you two to figure out.” He paused. “But for what it’s worth, I think you should call him.”

Rachel’s heart stuttered.
She rested her head against the window casing. “I want to, but I’m afraid.”

There. She’d admitted it
. She missed him, but wouldn’t that empty sensation be ten times worse once a full-blown relationship ended?

“Then it must be the real thing, and isn’t that worth fighting for?” The
word’s pierced through the storm of emotion swirling through her and returned calm to her world.

Yes. It i
s.

“Thanks, Robert.”

He laughed, but it was nervous. “Just wish me luck on my date with Dr. Holloway tonight.”

“
You’ve been keeping more than one secret it seems.” She tried to sound stern, but she was too happy for Robert. “Good luck with the hot doctor.” She paused then added, “And I love you.”

“Love you too
, sis.”

The phone went dead while Rachel swallowed
against the lump lodged in her throat. Even though half a country separated them, she’d never felt this close to her brother. Drawing a deep breath, she straightened. She’d call Stephen, but she needed a reason first.

Her stomach growled, a
reminder she was hungry. She headed back to the kitchen, pausing on the threshold when she spied the La Perla box. Stephen had given her the perfect excuse to call. It was rude not to thank someone for a gift. With shaky fingers, she placed her phone on the counter then drew the lid off the box. Perfumed tissue paper crinkled and fragrance wafted to her nose as she dug through the layers.

When she finally uncovered the satiny material, s
he gasped. The undies were nothing like anything she’d ever worn. At the sides, ribbons held together the two scraps of fabric making the panties. The cutout work on the matching bra was breathtaking and the color was an unusual pearly gray-lavender. It had to have cost a fortune.

A folded piece of full-size paper lay underneath the underwear. She flipped it open and stared at the words and numbers. It was
a schedule. Stephen’s jam-packed schedule for the week. An odd sensation worked through her. Had he included it, or had some nameless, faceless assistant selected this very personal item then tucked in the schedule so she’d know when not to interrupt Mr. Important Movie Star?

Irritation simmered her blood
. Was that how dating him would be, scheduled phone calls and dates with no spontaneity? If so, she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of it. It would be better to let him go and keep the memories for fantasizing. She could leave a thank you note with the hotel desk in LA, which was apparently where he would be for the remainder of the week according to his itinerary.

She flicked the piece of paper across the counter as her stomach rumbled.
Robert’s voice telling her she was over-reacting and Stephen’s voice calling her irrational warred in her head. She needed to eat. Hunger left her easy to annoy and she wanted a cool head when she talked to Stephen. She should also check her e-mails to rid herself of that particular distraction. Maybe she’d shower too. She hated the dry feeling flying always left on her skin.

The more
Rachel thought about it, the better a long soak in the tub sounded, so after eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and downing a glass of milk, she headed to the bathroom. Long minutes later, a heavy sigh eased from her lips as she lowered herself into the hot bath. This was the only time she wished for a bigger place. The desire for a garden tub like the one in her parents’ house inspired the dream. Her tub was narrow and shallow, so she couldn’t completely submerse herself and had to splash water over her breasts and knees to warm those parts. If Stephen were there, he’d no doubt heat things right up.

God, how pathetic was she? Before he came into her life, she’d gone days and weeks without a
n orgasm. Now, she craved them.

T
hough she didn’t just miss the mind-blowing sex; she also missed being the center of someone’s attention, missed talking to Stephen. She leaned her head on the hard rim of the tub. Not that she’d be Stephen’s main focus any longer, not with the crazy schedule he had at the moment, and then there was the rom-com he’d be filming soon. Where would she fit in then?

She hated letting fear govern her life. She could conquer it. After all, she never would’ve moved to New York if she’d let the looming possibility of failure overwhelm her. She’d check her
e-mails, and then she’d call Stephen. Though she couldn’t remember when the opening on his schedule for the day was, she could always leave a message. Maybe he’d like to know she was thinking about him. Plus it would tell him that his schedule was all fine and well, but she still planned her life, and she’d roll the dice and call him whenever she wanted.

With a decisive nod, she grabbed the loofa and made quick work of her bath. A
fter throwing on a T-shirt and yoga pants, she checked her e-mails, which showed nothing in need of immediate attention. From the kitchen, she retrieved her phone, but not Stephen’s itinerary, then settled into the corner of the sofa and took a deep breath.

When he picked up on the second ring, heat zipped along her skin, the blood raced through her ears, and she barely heard, “Hey, Rach.”

Rach. Not babe. Not even Rachel.
Maybe Robert had given more information than just her arrival date and time and favorite flowers to Stephen after all. Or maybe Stephen had thought over what she’d said in the hotel room.

She moistened dry lips. “Hey.
Thanks for the flowers,” her cheeks flamed, “and underwear, but they’re too much. I could buy a handful of the ones you tore for the price of the bra alone I bet.”

“I couldn’t help myself when I saw that sexy number. My only thought was how good you’d look in it.” A hoarse laugh escaped. “Of course, that image has haunted me since I picked out the piece, and my right hand has been suffering for it.”

Lust struck her hard and fast, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Should they be going there when they hadn’t even discussed the fight? Or rather her tirade? She hadn’t given him much opportunity to talk. Though if he was willing to put it behind them, shouldn’t she follow his lead?

Except that would be like saying her feelings on certain topics didn’t matter. Still, she couldn’t resist temptation.
“That sounds like a long, hard week.”

He groaned and her nipples tightened. She fought the urge to tweak one, just to enhance the sensation
—she didn’t want to start something that couldn’t be finished properly.

He cleared his throat.
“Truthfully, it’s only been a couple of days. I spent the first few trying to forget you.”

Her heart dropped
into the pit of her stomach, though his words shouldn’t have surprised her. But it hurt to hear them nonetheless, and it had been her decision to take a step back for some perspective.

“But that proved difficult. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought about the way your voice sounds over the phone, like a siren’s call home.”

Rachel’s insides turned to mush.

“Not to mention the throat
y little noises you make when you come. No. You’re not easy to forget at all.”

Her body was in turmoil—her heart raced, her belly did flip-flops, and need throbbed between her thighs.
Picking at a thread on the sofa “Yeah, well, you’re pretty unforgettable as well.”

He blew out a breath. “Look, Rach, if we’re going to have a shot in hell at making this work, you need to stop watching that crap that passes for a TV show and not pay attention to gossip
magazines or columns, especially with the movie I’ll be filming. There’s always speculation the male and female leads are a romantic couple.”