Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (22 page)

“But you’re telling me.”

“Of course I’m telling you. You’re my sister. Who else would I tell?”

A tear splashed down Nina’s cheek. Thank heavens her sister didn’t do Facetime.

Their relationship wasn’t a two-way street. She still wasn’t able to tell Jess her own news. She still wasn’t even sure what she was going to do.

She felt as if she were on a runaway train headed straight for a cliff and she couldn’t get off.

“I’m so happy for you, Jess. Really, really happy.” And she meant it.

When she ended the call, Nina set aside her book and phone and climbed off the bed.

She’d missed having a full-length mirror all the weeks she’d spent at Dom’s. It wasn’t that she was vain and wanted to see her reflection – not with the love/hate relationship she had with her body – but this body was her brand. She couldn’t afford to let herself go.

She faced the mirror. She still wore sleep shorts that revealed her long, tanned legs, more muscled and athletic than they’d ever been before in her life. She lifted her tank top and placed her hands over her toned, smooth belly.

How long would it be before she started to show? How long could she keep this baby a secret? Three or four months, as Jess planned to do? Long enough to get through 15 weeks of filming without someone realizing she was pregnant? She didn’t trust those odds.

Especially with her breasts already so full and aching they were like a teenager’s wet dream.

She’d only allowed herself to think ahead to the next few weeks. If she could just keep her pregnancy secret through the first few weeks of principal photography, a month at most, the movie would be too far underway for them to replace her.

Once she was through the all-important first month of filming she could break the news to the producers and ask them to cut her some slack with the riskier action shots. There were always ways to cheat angles and to use body doubles.

But by the end of filming, everyone would know, wouldn’t they?

It would be an impossible secret to keep on a film set with hundreds of people. Location film shoots, especially, were hotbeds of gossip, everyone living in one another’s pockets for months on end.

And then when she gave the baby away, everyone would know that too.

She’d be known as the actress who gave away her baby. Chrissie would really have her job cut out putting a good spin on that.

And what were the chances Jess would even want her baby now, with her own on the way?

Which left only one last option.

Nina would have to keep the baby.

Could she keep her career too? It wasn’t as if she’d be the first movie star to be a single, unwed mother. It would mean nannies and night nurses, and raising a child inside the goldfish bowl that was her life, and all those things she’d sworn she didn’t want, but the thought didn’t seem nearly as scary as it had a few days ago.

She could keep the baby.

Her hands stroked over the curve of her stomach. Though there was nothing yet to see or feel, her body felt different. There was a new life growing inside her.

And she was hungry.

With a bounce in her step, she headed for the kitchen. She only kept bread in the house for the housekeeper, but she was going to make herself the most giant-ass sandwich imaginable, with all the trimmings. She had a baby to feed.

She was halfway through lathering mayonnaise onto the bread when a blinding thought stopped her hand in midair.

If she kept the baby, Dom would want to be involved.

Whether they wanted it or not, their lives would be entangled forever.

The vision that followed rapidly on the heels of that thought was an instant appetite suppressant. What if Dom met someone else? Started a family with someone else? What if her son or daughter grew up with half siblings and a stepmother?

What if she had to sit on the sidelines, alone, and watch them be a happy family together?

The urge to throw up was back in force, but this time it wasn’t morning sickness. Tossing the half-made sandwich in the bin, she headed back to bed.

Maybe she wasn’t as ready for this as she’d thought.

Without Wendy, she had to make her own appointment with a doctor, selecting one of those exclusive Beverly Hills clinics masquerading as a spa, where the staff could be relied upon to be discreet. She even drove herself there.

The appointment took a lot less time than she thought it would.

Now that the decision was made, a weight had lifted off her shoulders. She smiled and laughed with her new trainers, made friends with her co-stars. The old Nina was back, the perky, outgoing Nina, and it was no longer an act. Only now the ditsiness was gone, replaced by a harder edge that no one could see, but she could feel.

She threw herself into work, into rehearsals and press interviews, and absolutely anything else that would take her mind off Dom and where he was and what he was doing.

The press conference to announce the final cast of
Revelations
was scheduled for the same day her training with Dom should have ended. It was impossible not to think of him.

She woke reaching out for him in the bed.

She showered, remembering the time they’d scrubbed beach sand off each other in the outdoor shower in his yard, though it had been so chilly they’d run straight indoors and got warm again in the best way possible.

She dressed in a pair of skinny black jeans, gray silky blouse, and heeled leather boots, remembering the borrowed jeans she’d left neatly folded in the closet in Dom’s guest bedroom.

She ate breakfast alone in her kitchen and remembered the time he’d made her orgasm right there on his kitchen counter. Best breakfast ever.

Her stylist arrived to prepare her for the cameras, and as they made inconsequential small talk she remembered the fast-paced, overlapping conversation of Dom’s sisters as Kathy readied her for the fundraiser.

The studio driver drove her to the Beverly Hills Hotel for the press conference and she had to close her eyes against the memories of the last time she’d been in a car with Dom, the last time she’d held his hand.

“We’re here,” the driver said.

She opened her eyes. Her chest felt tight again, so tight she could hardly breathe. Then the door opened and there was no more time to be sentimental or to wallow in self-pity for everything she’d lost. This was her moment. This was the first day of the rest of her life.

“God, I could use a drink,” her co-star said as they were led to the private suite, where refreshments had been laid out for them ahead of the press conference. “I hate these press junkets.” He pulled a face. “Small price to pay for making a living at this job, though, isn’t it?”

She nodded. There were far bigger prices to be paid. She glanced at her wristwatch. The press conference would be starting soon and she was almost out of time.

“Mineral water,” she said to the hovering waitress, and her co-star pulled another face. Once she had her mineral water and he his bourbon, they toasted each other. She liked him already, though they had zero chemistry. Always a good thing since the key to having great sexual chemistry on-screen was having none off-screen.

“I didn’t see Dominic here today,” Tarquin said, putting an arm around her shoulders as he joined them.

She shook her head and steeled her nerve. A strong part of her wanted to run away, to play a part, and pretend nothing was wrong. But she’d already gone too far down this road to turn back. “There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Tarquin nodded and she added: “Privately.”

With a wry shrug to her co-star, Tarquin led her outside into the hotel gardens, where the photographers were setting up their lights.

They were still talking when the anxious publicist called them into the press conference. For the next hour, Nina bantered with her new colleagues and co-stars, made all the obligatory flattering sound bites required of her in the Q&A, then posed for photos in the garden.

The die had been cast. There was no going back now.

At last it was over. Barely pausing to say goodbye to her co-stars or the producers, she hurried to the residents-only car park. She caught the driver unawares, leaning up against the black Escalade smoking a cigarette. He stubbed it out hastily. “I’m sorry. They didn’t tell me you were ready to leave.”

“Please take me to Venice Beach.” She gave him the address.

But Dom wasn’t home.

Was she too late? What if he’d already gone to have the surgery?

“He’s out,” Eric said, sitting up on the sofa and shoving aside the Wii controller. “You guys had a fight or something? We missed you at the barbecue on Sunday.”

He hadn’t told his family they’d broken up? A spark of hope ignited in her stomach. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, Dom said you got the part in that
Revelations
movie. My girlfriend’s really stoked. She wants to know if she can get your autograph.”

“Do you have any idea where Dom is?”

Eric shrugged. “He only told me he needed space to think.”

She hadn’t asked the driver to wait. Where she needed to go went above and beyond the job he’d been hired to do anyway. She found the keys for Dom’s Jeep in the bowl on the kitchen counter. There were no longer condoms in the bowl.

As she headed north along the Pacific Coast Highway she hoped Eric stayed so absorbed in his game he didn’t realize she’d stolen Dom’s car. Her
Revelations
contract included a morality clause she was pretty sure covered grand theft auto.

Once through the worst of the afternoon traffic, she opened all the windows to hear the crash of the surf and smell the briny scent of the ocean. She threaded through Malibu, then out the other side, enjoying the dramatic ocean views and the wild flowers in bloom at the base of the rocky cliffs. Considering what she had to do, her heart felt unexpectedly buoyant.

She had to pay for parking, then put up with the gawkers in the car park who stared open-mouthed as she strode past, head high and shoulders back, feigning a confidence she didn’t feel.

Now that the moment was here, terror began to replace the hope. She hadn’t felt this scared since the day her father had stopped answering his phone.

What if Dom wanted nothing more to do with her?

She wouldn’t blame him. She had done nothing to earn his trust or his heart. But she was going to ask for them anyway. After laying her own heart bare.

He’d rejected her enough times in the past. Perhaps that had just been practice for today. It would be so much easier to do what she always did: run away.

But she had to do this. She wasn’t going to repeat her mother’s mistakes. She had to face her fear and do it anyway. Because if she didn’t say what she needed to say to Dom, she’d never forgive herself, and it would become the greatest “what if” of her life.

No matter what the outcome.

At the top of the steep metal staircase she paused to take off her heeled boots before she made her way down to the beach, cautiously picking her way across the rocks to reach the sand. She should have stopped for sneakers along the way.

There were no sea lions to be heard today, and the beach wasn’t as deserted as it had been that first night. The breakers were bigger, crashing in against the rocks and spraying her with cool, salty droplets. But the beach was quiet and wild, and she understood why this was the place Dom came to think.

Even if he wasn’t here as she hoped, it would be worth it for the fresh breeze blowing in off the sea and the spectacular view of steep cliffs plunging into the Pacific. This place was as close to paradise as she’d yet found in LA.

But Dom was here. She found him halfway along the crescent of beach, staring out toward the sea, his eyes concealed by dark sunglasses. Her heart beat frantically against her ribs as she stopped before him.

He looked up, squinting into the sunlight, and a distinct furrow appeared between his eyes. For a long moment he said nothing. She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“The press conference went well?”

So he knew about that. She nodded, biting her lip.

“You made your decision, then.” His tone was flat, emotionless, but she knew it was there, bubbling beneath his calm control.

She knelt down in the white sand and pushed her own sunglasses up on her head. He needed to read her expression. He needed to know she was sincere, that this wasn’t another act.

“I screwed up, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you did.”

What did she expect – that he’d make this easy for her?

She dragged in a deep breath. “I told Tarquin I’d take the job on three conditions, and he agreed.”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care.

“The first condition was that I wouldn’t work with Jordan.”

She couldn’t think of anything worse than spending ten hour days sharing a make-up trailer with Jordan. Four years on the same sitcom had been more than enough for one lifetime. Still…for a moment she’d been tempted to use her Oscar-loser status to ask Tarquin to rewrite the script, so instead of rescuing Jordan’s character in the woods she could leave her to the wolves, where she belonged.

Dom cleared his throat. “If you’re trying to avoid women I’ve slept with, you’ve set yourself one hell of a task.” He said it without humor, but the spark in her stomach flared.

“My second condition was that I would only do the movie if you worked on it too.”

He finally looked at her. His eyes were hard, his expression closed, scaring her more than his indifference had. There was a very real chance he wouldn’t forgive her, that she’d lost him forever.

“That’s one condition that won’t be met. I’ve rescheduled the arthroplasty for tomorrow. I won’t be able to do another stunt for months.”

“Tarquin wants to offer you the job of second unit director. You won’t be in front of the camera, you’ll be behind it, directing the stunts.”

At last she saw a crack of emotion, a flicker of interest. Then he shook his head. “Even if they offer me the moon, I still won’t take it. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” His voice came out harsh and she flinched.

It was nothing less than she’d expected. Nothing less than she deserved. But she wasn’t giving up yet, and she wasn’t above begging. “I need you. Please take the job. For me.”