Simon didn’t talk much the rest of the evening. He was polite but the casual camaraderie they’d established since coming to Whiskey Creek was gone. Gail hadn’t realized how much she’d enjoyed his companionship until that warmth was replaced with the old indifference.
Accusing him of wanting her only because he couldn’t have her hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, but it’d hurt him somehow. She was afraid it kept him from changing, becoming a better person. Every time he tried, every time he started to believe he could, she held up the mirror of his past and reminded him that there was no way to outdistance his deeds, that she’d never forget and therefore he couldn’t, either.
He was probably confused and disappointed. So was she. She didn’t want to send mixed signals. But no one had ever frightened her in quite the same way as Simon O’Neal. Charisma rolled off him in waves. If she let it carry her away, there was no telling where she’d end up.
“You okay?” she said at one point.
“Fine.” He offered her another perfectly roasted marshmallow. But his emotional withdrawal made her feel as if the sun had suddenly disappeared behind a cloud.
Simon dozed off before the movie ended, but Gail lay next to him long after, wide-awake and feeling...she didn’t know what. Remorseful. Conflicted. And attracted. Always attracted.
In the light of the log’s dying embers, she admired the contours of his face while trying to decide how to keep this “marriage” on track. She was supposed to care about Matt. She’d yearned for him for years. The flutter she’d felt in her stomach when she’d seen him earlier had made her wonder what she’d done. Yet she’d scarcely thought of him since their encounter in the coffee shop. As long as Simon was around, nothing else seemed to matter.
But Simon wouldn’t be around forever....
Suddenly he opened his eyes as if her intense regard had dragged him from sleep. She told herself to roll over and pretend she hadn’t been watching him, but she refused to be that much of a coward. Even after his eyes met hers, she continued to stare just as intently and allowed him to do the same.
Finally he broke the silence. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” she admitted with a sigh.
“Don’t waste your time on that.” He turned over, but she refused to let him exclude her so easily. She put her palm on his back, and when he didn’t move, she slid it up and into his hair. The thick, silky locks felt so good....
“What do you want from me?” he murmured without moving. “Sometimes the way you look at me...it’s as if you want to be with me. And yet...the second I act on that, you shut me down.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
After another strained pause, during which she went on touching his hair, he turned to face her again and unzipped his sleeping bag. “Come here.”
Gail’s heart pumped hard and fast. She’d done it now; she’d started down the path of no return. But she couldn’t blame Simon. He was right about the way she looked at him. And what else could he assume when she kept touching him?
“Maybe...maybe we should lay down some ground rules first,” she said.
“What kind of ground rules?”
“How about this can only happen once. And it doesn’t mean anything. Those kinds of rules.”
“There isn’t any need.”
But the next few minutes would change everything. At least for her. She wet her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. You coming or not? Because it’s cold, and I’m going to zip this thing up if you’re not.”
Supremely conscious of the fact that she’d chosen to wear a T-shirt and pajama bottoms—nightclothes that weren’t the slightest bit sexy just so she wouldn’t be tempted to do exactly what she was about to do—she took a deep breath and wiggled out of her own bag. Fleetingly she wondered if her underwear was attractive enough. She thought so. She’d recently bought new ones. Just marrying Simon was enough to make her worry about her underclothes.
Thinking of her panties made her question whether she should undress before climbing inside his bag. They already had his T-shirt and pajama bottoms to remove, which wouldn’t be easy in such a confined space.
The practical side of Gail suggested she strip now. But maybe that was unromantic. He didn’t tell her to....
In the end, she didn’t have the nerve. She figured he could get creative; after all, he had a lot more experience than she did.
“I’m a little self-conscious,” she admitted.
“Everything will be fine,” he said.
“But...talk about pressure.” She worried her lip. “You’ve been with supermodels and actresses and Olympic athletes.”
He surprised her with a laugh. “Where did you get Olympic athletes?”
“Just guessing. Some of them are pretty hot, right? And you can take your pick.”
Sobering, he lowered his voice. “It’s not a contest, Gail. You don’t have to compete with anyone.”
“I wouldn’t want to be your worst. I’d at least like to hit somewhere in the middle.”
“God, no wonder you don’t want to sleep with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Come on.”
The nerves in her stomach were making her jittery. “I’m just trying to tell you it’s been a long time for me. I’m out of practice.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three years.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Wow, you really are selective. How many men have you been with?”
“At one time?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“That was a joke.”
“You had me for a second. How many?”
She considered lying. Too few might make her seem like she wasn’t playful or sexy enough—or someone guys sought out. But she figured he should know what he was getting into. “Two.”
“That makes it easy to see why you’re self-conscious. But it’s just me, right? You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Just you...” she repeated, and somehow managed to suppress a nervous giggle. She was going to sleep with one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. She figured she had a right to be anxious about it. But after he’d helped her inside his bag and managed to zip it up, he simply enfolded her in his arms. He didn’t even kiss her.
“Simon?” she said when minute after minute ticked away and he didn’t move. He seemed to be going to sleep....
“What?” he mumbled.
Sure enough, he sounded as if he was just on this side of sleep. “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”
“No.”
Shocked, she blinked at the darkness. She couldn’t look into his face. The way he was holding her kept her cheek against his chest. “Why not?” she whispered.
“Because you’ll only regret it in the morning.”
This was not the answer she’d been expecting. He’d tried to make sex part of her contract, for crying out loud. “How do you know?”
“You don’t trust me.”
She considered that before breaking the silence again. “So...what are we going to do?”
His hand swept her hair back as his lips brushed her forehead. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to sleep.”
“Have you ever just...slept with someone like this before?”
“Only my wife.”
So she hadn’t gone too far. He was offering her the comfort of his body in an asexual way and she sort of liked that. It certainly eased her fear and anxiety, even her self-consciousness.
As she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of warm male, she experienced a strange sense of satisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t as exciting as a sexual encounter, but it was oddly gratifying. “You smell good,” she whispered.
His hand slipped up the back of her shirt. But he didn’t bring it around to her breasts. He merely flattened his palm against her bare skin. Then, slowly but surely, his breathing evened out and hers must have, too, because the next thing she knew it was morning.
* * *
Gail had slept deeply. But when she came to full awareness, she realized that the contentment she’d felt the night before was gone. She liked being in Simon’s arms just as much as before—didn’t want to be anywhere else. But after spending the night pressed to his body, the awkwardness of climbing into his sleeping bag had vanished. So had her reluctance to touch him and be touched by him. As a matter of fact, all she could think about was getting naked so she could feel more of him.
The love scene in Shiver played in her mind as Simon’s chest rose and fell with each breath. She imagined him making love to her as he and his costar had depicted, imagined his mouth moving down her stomach—
“What’s wrong?”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was awake. But his thoughts didn’t seem to be going in the same direction as hers. He didn’t sound happy to be disturbed. “Nothing, why?”
“You keep moving.”
“Oh. Sorry,” she said, but shifted again—to bring their hips into full contact.
She noted his surprise as she glanced up at him, felt his irritation fall away as he came almost instantly to full attention. She’d attracted his interest; she could tell by his growing erection. He opened his mouth to say something. Then the doorbell rang.
“No way,” she grumbled.
He rolled onto his back and covered his face with one arm. “Already?”
She pulled her cell phone closer to check the time. It was barely eight.
“Who do you think it is?” he asked without looking over.
“Probably Kathy,” Gail guessed. “She said she’d bring us copies of the fully executed real estate contract, but I don’t know why she has to do it this early. I’m sure she couldn’t wait to see you again. I’ll get it.”
As soon as she left the sleeping bag, Simon got up, too, and went into the bathroom. She heard the door close just as she peered out the window. But the person on her porch wasn’t Kathy. It was a man.
Did she know him? There was something familiar about him, but he was turned away from her....
“Who is it?” she called through the door.
“Tex O’Neal.” At the sound of her voice he’d turned back to face her. It was Simon’s father.
“Oh, God,” she muttered. “Simon?”
She’d had to whisper his name. Simon probably couldn’t hear her over the running water. In any case, he didn’t answer.
“I need to talk to Simon,” Tex called.
Gail pivoted to head down the hall. She wanted to check with her husband before letting Tex in. She knew he and his father weren’t on good terms. Their relationship had always been rocky, more so in recent years. But what was the point of asking Simon whether or not to let him in? They couldn’t sit inside their house and refuse to open the door when she’d already given away the fact that someone was home.
Self-conscious about her appearance, since she’d come straight from bed, she smoothed her T-shirt and cautiously opened the door.
Simon’s father wasn’t nearly as attractive as Simon. He didn’t have the same bone structure—the kind that made Simon almost as beautiful as he was handsome. Simon had inherited those features from his mother. But his father’s face was interesting the way Clint Eastwood’s was. Shrewd. Tough. Unflinching. Despite their visual differences, father and son had the same powerful personalities, however—the same magnetism and keen intellect. At least that was Gail’s impression.
“I want to see my son,” he said without preamble.
His gaze swept over her, then shifted away as if he found her wanting, which made Gail regret her courtesy in answering his knock. “He’s in the bathroom. If you’d like to come in, he’ll be out shortly.”
She stepped back, half expecting to hear the jingle of spurs as Tex walked in. He’d taken a lot of acting parts over the years, but none fit him better than that of a hardened gunslinger; that, of course, was where he’d gotten his nickname. He’d been called Tex for so long she couldn’t remember his real name. Even now he was wearing a pair of fancy snakeskin cowboy boots and a hat. No doubt he’d come straight from the ranch he owned somewhere farther north.
Was it near the town of Chico? Gail couldn’t remember that, either.
Simon came out of the bathroom, froze as soon as he saw his father, then flipped his hair out of his eyes and ambled toward him. “What a surprise,” he drawled.
Tex acknowledged him with a brief tilt of the head. “Must be, considering you disappeared without letting anyone know where you were going.”
The belligerent attitude that had become synonymous with Simon over the past couple of years reasserted itself. His eyes glittered; his chin jutted forward. The transformation was so marked and immediate it caught Gail off guard. Obviously just seeing his father was enough to drag him into a dark place.
“So...how did you find me?” Simon asked.
“Ian finally got tired of me busting his balls and gave me the information I was after. But he said not to tell you it was him.”
“So of course you out him first thing.”
His father studied him for a second. “I’m not in the business of protecting Ian.”
“No, that would require looking beyond your own concerns. But I’m afraid harassing my business manager was a waste of your time. It would’ve been smarter to call me.”
“Why would I bother?” he said. “You won’t pick up for me.”
Simon shoved a hand through his hair. “Most people would take that as a sign and not show up on my doorstep.”
“Ordinarily, I’d leave you in peace. You’ve made your wishes clear where I’m concerned.” He tipped his hat to punctuate his words. “But this isn’t personal. It’s business. If you weren’t my lead actor, I’d be banging on someone else’s door.”
A muscle flexed in Simon’s cheek. “Your lead actor? What the hell are you talking about?”
With a condescending chuckle, Tex stepped forward. “You don’t know? Man, you really have been in a world of hurt. I’m bankrolling your next film.”
“No. Frank and Jimmy Kozlowski are bankrolling it.”
“Together with a few other investors, and I happen to be one of them.”
Nostrils flaring, Simon clenched his jaw. When he spoke, it sounded like he forced each word through his teeth. “You put up money for Hellion? Your name has never been mentioned in connection with the project.”
Tex gave a careless shrug. “Ian knew when I came on board. I’ve never made a secret of it.”
Gail felt her fingernails curve into her palms. Good old Ian, playing both ends against the middle. What had he been thinking? That Simon would never find out his father was involved?
That wasn’t realistic. He must’ve been hoping the movie would be done by the time Simon learned. That was certainly possible. When there were a number of producers, a group of investors, not all of them had a say in the actual making of the film.
“Why?” Simon asked. “There are so many other projects, so many other actors. Why are you involved in this?”
“Frankly, it was the kind of opportunity I didn’t want to pass up. A script like this doesn’t come around every day. And you couldn’t be more suited to the part.”
Disgust etched lines in Simon’s forehead. “I’m playing a serial killer, for God’s sake!”
“But he’s a good husband and father at the same time, very complex. That’s what makes him interesting and I’m sure it’s why you took the part. Anyway, not too many actors have more box office appeal than you do right now. We wait much longer, that might not be the case. So how can I convince you to get your ass back to work?”
Now Simon laughed. “You can’t. I’m not going back until I gain custody of Ty.”
“You won’t get Ty. You’ve already made sure of that.”
Simon folded his arms. “I wonder where I learned the behavior that brought me to this point.”
“It’s not your behavior I’m trying to understand. It’s why you didn’t bother to be more discreet.”
“Maybe I’m not interested in becoming the Great Pretender, like you.”
“If you had any brains you wouldn’t be in this situation. You had Bella by the jugular, and you let her go. No one knows that better than me.”
“That you could even suggest I go public with what happened, after the part you played, makes me want to kick your ass,” Simon growled. “You were probably hoping I’d do just that. Give you a spot in the limelight again.”
Tex waved his words away. “Oh, come on, your marriage to Bella would never have lasted, regardless of anything I did. It was already on the rocks.” He gestured toward Gail. “This one won’t last, either. One woman could never keep you happy, not when just about every female you come across is willing to lie down and spread her legs. You’re too much like me.”
Gail felt sick. “Out,” she said. “Get out of our house. Now.”
Simon grabbed her by the arm before she could get in Tex’s face. “I’m nothing like you, and I’m going to prove it.”
His father adjusted his hat. “Knock yourself out,” he said. “But understand this—you have three days. I’ll be staying at the B and B on Sutter Street until Tuesday. You don’t make arrangements with me to start that damn film, I’ll sue you for breach of contract and hire someone else. We’ll see if the publicity from that helps you get Ty back. The judge and everyone else will think, ‘Simon screwed up again, just like we figured he would.’ Then hiding out here in the back of beyond will be a waste of time. Why not be realistic while you have the chance?”
“While it serves you, you mean?” Simon said. “While it gives you a film that’ll make you millions more than if you hired another actor?”
“The people I talked into signing on are upset at the way this thing is going. I owe them something, too.”
“But who do you owe more?” Gail asked. “Don’t you care about your grandson? Don’t you want a better relationship with him than you have with your son?”
Tex shifted his attention to her. “I think you shouldn’t get involved,” he said, and stalked out.
* * *
Rage consumed Simon. His father’s nerve in showing up here and acting as if...as if he’d had nothing to do with the situation that had started everything made Simon want to put his fist through a wall.
“You okay?” Gail’s voice came to him as if from far away. He knew she meant well, that she was trying to help him, but he couldn’t be with her right now. Considering the rage bubbling up inside him, he couldn’t be with anyone he hoped to have a relationship with afterward because there’d be no way to take back the things he was about to say.
“I need to get out of here,” he muttered.
She stood in his path. “And go where? You don’t even know the area.”
“Who cares?”
“I do.”
“Then you’re a fool. And you’ll live to regret it. Get out of my way.”
“No. If you leave now you’ll do something you regret.”
On some level, he agreed with her. He thought of Ty and wanted to make him proud. But even his son wasn’t enough to stem the deluge of anger whipping through him. Because trying to reclaim Ty felt like he was grasping at air. His father was right; he’d never get his son back.
He needed a liquor store, some way to dull the jagged emotions that felt like barbed wire being yanked through his heart. If he didn’t do something he’d explode—or finally give his old man what he deserved. He wanted to do exactly that, but if he ever started down that road, he’d wind up in prison. He doubted he’d be able to quit slugging him.
He tried to get around Gail, but she stopped him. “No!” she said more firmly. “I won’t let him take from you what you’ve achieved during these past two and a half weeks.”
“I don’t give a shit about what I’ve achieved. I don’t give a shit about anything!” He thought his temper would frighten her. It’d certainly frightened her when he’d stormed into her office following that bogus rape accusation. But she didn’t let go or back away, even when he tried to shake her off.
“I’m not giving up on you, damn it!” she cried. “Don’t let him win!”
“You have no choice but to give up. Our marriage—this joke of a relationship—is over.” Determined to get through the door, he picked her up and set her aside. But she came after him again, catching his arm. When he whirled, ready to shout—to say whatever he had to say to get her to accept who and what he really was—she grabbed his hand and shoved it up her shirt.
“Stay,” she breathed.
The shock of suddenly having her breast in his hand shot straight to his groin. He told himself it wasn’t right to take her up on the offer she was making. Not when he knew why she was making it. But the anger was like a monster inside him, a monster with a mind of its own. It demanded some kind of physical action, a release....
Still, he hesitated for a second and almost let go. He respected her too much to use her. But there was more than anger at work. He also wanted her—badly. And when her hand clenched in his hair and she turned his head to kiss him as if she wouldn’t take no for an answer, he knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Especially when she met his lips with an open mouth and arched into him, holding nothing back.