The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) (10 page)

By the time the sun started to sink low in the sky, we were both exhausted. And I still couldn’t work out what to do. I felt like it was up to me to say something, since he’d already tried. But what if he’d only been interested in me because he was drunk, that night? What if he was inwardly sighing in relief that he’d avoided an awful mistake?

I knew he wanted kids now. I knew he wanted a life beyond fake Hollywood kisses. But that didn’t mean he wanted anything long-term with
me
...if he wanted anything with me at all.

When we finished the scene we were on, he suddenly tossed the script on the table. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

“Where?”

“Out. We’ve been cooped up here for days. Well,
you
have. Come on. Wait. It’s hot as hell out there...”

He disappeared off to his room for a moment and came back out wearing a t-shirt. Then he looked at me in my blouse and jeans. “You staying like that?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Okay.” He said it as if he understood. He led me to the massive garage under the house and there, gleaming next to his sports cars, was a motorbike. He swung his leg over it.

“A bike?! I didn’t know you rode bikes!”

“I can only ride it when I’m not shooting a movie. The insurance people won’t underwrite the movie, otherwise, in case I fly off and break a leg or something. But I’m not making a movie
now…
” He tossed me a helmet.

“I’ve never been on a motorbike before,” I said stupidly.

“That doesn’t
entirely
surprise me, Charlotte. Get on. We’ll go slow.”

I put the helmet on and climbed on behind him.

“Hold on. No, tighter than that.”

I pushed myself right up against him and wrapped my arms around him, until my breasts were squashed against his back and my crotch was up against the firm cheeks of his ass. And then we were off, riding up the ramp and out of the garage, into the warm copper light of evening.

It really was hot as hell outside, even with the wind to keep me cool—but baking was still preferable to stripping off. He went slow, just like he’d promised. The bike throbbed and growled between my legs, making me squirm just a little as I sat behind him. We rode out of the city, first past strip malls and starkly beautiful oil fields, and then out into the desert. The sunset painted everything in shades of amber and russet and our shadows grew longer and longer behind us, stretching out like capes behind the bike.

When he eventually pulled off the road, we were miles from anywhere. All I could see was bare rock, dusty scrub and the sun, huge and red, slowly sinking below the horizon.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“I come here a lot,” he said from behind me. I could feel that he was looking at me, but I didn’t dare turn around to check so I kept my eyes locked on the sunset.

“Good place for a date,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “They must love it. It’s romantic.”

“I never brought anyone here before.”

And there it was. He was making a move. He was definitely making a move. Even I couldn’t deny it, now. All I had to do was turn around and—

I started to turn. I really did. But halfway there, I saw the bike, with its gleaming chrome fuel tank. And reflected in it was the two of us, silhouetted against the sunset. Tanner, with his broad shoulders and tight, toned waist flaring out to muscled legs. An ideal shape. The shape a man should be.

And...me. My curves draped in a blouse and jeans that made me into an oblong. Too wide, too
solid.
Not a shape anyone could ever love.

“I think,” I said, “I think—”

His voice was very low. “Yes, Charlotte?”

“I think I’d like to go back now.”

***

Back at the mansion, he told me tersely that he was going to work out, and left me alone. I didn’t blame him for being mad. I was mad at myself for letting my fears about my body rule me.

I paced the living room. Our scripts were still sitting on the table and I stared at one of them, running the movie in my mind. I knew the damn thing as well as Tanner, by now.

Thomas, a man with his future all worked out for him, expected to marry a woman from a noble family. Annabel, the woman he really loved, too afraid to say “yes.”

Was it really all that different?

The movie wasn’t going to be the usual Hollywood schmaltz, either. They’d stayed true to the book it was based on. Annabel never did accept Thomas’s love and he wound up marrying someone else. They both died unhappy. Exactly the sort of weepy ending I usually liked.

But not the ending I wanted.

I crept through the mansion to the gym. Big floor-to-ceiling windows separated it from the hallway and I hid behind the last section of wall, peering through the window but keeping myself hidden. Tanner was lying on a weights bench, in sweat pants and stripped to the waist. For the first time, I could see that chiseled, perfect torso that had graced so many movie posters. Pecs as firm and solid as mountains, the sort you wanted to nestle your head into. A defined valley ran all the way down his chest, leading my eyes into the foothills and passes of his abs, a six pack I wanted to trace with my fingers. The ridge of his Adonis belt pointed down, leading my eyes under his pants.

He was angry. His teeth were bared as he heaved the barbell up again and again, muscles bunching and straining, sweat dampening his hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, biting my lip as I watched his body work. The raw power of him was amazing—the weights were so heavy I could see the bar bending a little, but he heaved it up with brute power.

Tomorrow would be the last day of training. The next day, I’d be on a plane home...unless I did something.

I took a deep breath...and stepped into view.

Chapter 6

He froze. Then he heaved the bar up one last time and dropped it into the frame and sat up. “Charlotte,” he said, surprised.

“Mr. Cole,” I said solemnly.

“Do you...need something?”

I knew what was going on. I’d pushed him away so many times that he wasn’t going to risk it again. Not unless he was sure. I had to make him sure. But I had no idea what to say. So I just...looked. I let my eyes move exactly where I wanted my hands to go, sweeping over the curves of his pecs, tracing that center line down to his abs, sliding down over the hard muscles there...and then lower. And then I looked back up to his face and locked eyes with him. Immediately, the tension was back. It was familiar, now. For the first time, I didn’t try to break it. I let it build and build, feeling my breathing quicken and my heart race.

He stared at me and stared at me and I thought
God, please, give me one more chance.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said slowly. “And then I was going to go in the hot tub. Do you want to join me?”

My resolve suddenly faltered. The hot tub? God, not that! That meant stripping off and baring practically everything!

Wait. I had an excuse.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear,” I said. “No swimsuit.”

He smiled and got up, then led me to his bedroom. “I thought of that,” he said, and handed me a bag from some store I’d never heard of.

I looked at the bag and then at him. My excuse was blown. Now I had to strip off and show myself, or forget the whole thing. I faltered.

“I’ll be in the tub,” he said. “I really hope you’ll join me.”

***

In my room, I turned my back to the mirror and then looked in the bag. It was a one-piece swimsuit, black with white polka dots, with a scoop neck.

It wouldn’t be my size, of course. He’d have been hopeful, not realistic.

I stripped off my clothes and slowly pulled it on. It clung to me, but in the right places. It was tight, but not too tight. He
had
got the size right.

And then I was too scared to turn around.

I thought of my apartment back in London. Being scared to show myself. Being scared to go out, or take a chance on a blind date. Being scared of everything. And then I thought of Tanner. The decent guy hiding inside the bad boy. The Tanner I’d got to know. Did anyone else get to see him like this?

He’d taken a chance for me, more than once. I had to do the same.

I turned around...and caught my breath. I was showing more skin than I had in years and my brain rebelled. I wanted to grab the covers off the bed and pull them around me. I wanted to lock the door before someone saw.

Instead, I took a deep breath...and went downstairs.

***

The doors into the gardens were open. It was fully dark outside and I could see fireflies dancing in the orange grove. The pool was lit up with calm, blue lights. And next to it, the hot tub, steam rising from its surface.

Tanner was sitting there, his hair still wet from his shower. The water was up to just beneath his pecs and I could see bright red swim shorts beneath the surface.

I felt more than saw his eyes pass over me. It was like a caress, starting on my cheek and wending its way down over my bare shoulders, my breasts, my stomach and thighs. All the way down my exposed legs to my feet. “You look...sensational,” he told me.

There was that tightening in my stomach, the same one I always got when he said something nice about me. Except this time, there was a flutter alongside it. A tiny, scared little voice that dared to ask if it could be true. I looked down at myself. The scoop neck showed a lot of cleavage and with my breasts it was...well, full-on.

It had cooled down a lot now that the sun was down. A tiny shiver rippled all the way down my spine, and I could feel the cold seeping into my bare legs, my bare arms...and—
erp!—
my nipples. Two peaks were visible through the tight fabric of the suit, and Tanner was looking straight at them. It should have sent me running back to the mansion, but instead I felt a spike of hot desire shooting straight down between my legs.

I put one foot tentatively in the tub. Hotter than I’d imagined, like stepping into a hot bath. I looked at Tanner again...and then I climbed fully in, gasping as the heat enveloped me.

I found a seat opposite him, because that seemed like a safe way to start. But that meant my bare leg was brushing his bare leg under the water, his thickly-muscled hardness against my pale softness. I gulped. I hadn’t been ready for how intimate it felt, being there in the water with him.

He looked at me for a long time, maybe waiting for me to relax. But I couldn’t. It was all too much—the revealing swimsuit, being in the tub with a man,
him….
It felt like my brain was overloading.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

There didn’t seem to be any point denying it. I nodded.

“You don’t have to be.”

My heart started booming in my chest. This was all slipping rapidly out of control…but wasn’t that what I wanted?

“I’m going to come over there,” he told me. His voice was gentle, as if he was trying to calm a frightened animal. “Just stay there.”

I did, and he moved around the tub to sit next to me. I couldn’t help but flinch when his hip first touched mine. “God! Sorry. I’m not. I mean, I don’t—” I took a deep breath. “I mean, it’s fine.”

He laughed. “Okay. Just…relax.” And he slid an arm around my shoulders, warm and comforting. Gradually, I
did
relax, muscle by muscle, until we were stretched out side by side, touching from shoulder to ankle.

“It’s a clear night,” he said softly.

I blinked. It seemed a very random thing to say. “So?”

“Look up.”

I looked up and gasped. The house was far enough from the lights of LA that the sky was painted with stars. The Milky Way was a glorious sweep of gleaming pinpricks above us, the rest of the sky dusted with individual jewels.

I looked down to find Tanner looking into my eyes. “It’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve seen tonight,” he told me. And then he leaned forward and kissed me.

It was soft and tender for the first few seconds—just enough time for my lips to part and confirm that I wasn’t going to reject him. Then it became hard and aggressive, days of pent-up tension spilling out, his tongue searching for mine. The tips played together and I was as hungry for it as he was, not just wanting him but needing him. I felt his hand knit into the hair at the back of my head and draw me to him, his other arm going around my waist to support me. As we kissed, he brought me around in front of him and pulled me in tight, tight enough that my breasts pillowed against his naked chest. He was still sitting so, for a moment, I was taller than him.

Then he stood, cupping my cheeks in my hands and guiding me back a step, the water hip-deep around me, and he was kissing down into my mouth, my head upturned to meet him. His fingers were tangled in my damp hair, our mouths open as we panted and kissed. The pants turned to groans and then to urgent moans of need—

I broke the kiss. I wanted it—I wanted it so badly. But I had to know. “Why me?” I whispered.