She was lying on the faded couch in the green room when she woke up.

“How’re you feeling?”

She blinked. Chris was kneeling on the floor next to her, looking anxious. She tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her down again.

“Easy, girl. Just rest for a moment. You feeling any better?”

She thought about it. The nausea and the vision spots were gone and the clammy feeling was fading. “Bit of a headache. How long was I out?”

“Just long enough for me to hit the vending machine. When you’re ready to sit up, I want you to drink this.” He held up a plastic bottle of water, frosted with little drops.

“Oh, that looks good.” She sat up carefully and let him open it and hand it to her. “Thank you,” she said gratefully after a long sip.

“Lie back down.”

“No, I’m fine—”

“Humor me,” he insisted, and she lay back down.

She no longer felt faint, but she did feel drained, and the lumpy cushions were surprisingly comfortable. She wasn’t sure if Chris had arranged the small pillow beneath her head or if it had been there already, but she was grateful for it. Still, she felt a little silly, lying there like an invalid.

“I can’t believe I fainted,” she said.

“I can. Hot day, long walk, no shade. I bet you didn’t eat breakfast, did you?”

She shot him a sheepish look. “No.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Any chance you’re … pregnant?”

She dropped her eyes and shook her head slightly. “Highly unlikely.”

She wasn’t sure if a swift look of disappointment crossed his face, but he said nothing, just continued to study her.

Finally, he said, “Well, if you can’t take care of yourself, I’ll have to take care of you.”

She gave an exasperated snort. “Thank you, Prince Charming, but I’m fine. Really. Can I sit up now?”

“No.” His voice was short, and she looked at him in surprise. “We need to talk, Joy.”

She studied him. The concern that had lined his face had deepened into a kind of grim determination. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but fetched a small stool from a corner and brought it over to the couch. He sat down on it, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“I like you,” he finally said. “I like you a lot. I don’t want to do this friends-with-benefits bullshit anymore. I want to hold your hand in public and take you out on real dates. Don’t get me wrong, the incredible, crazy sex is ... crazy and incredible—but I want more than that. And I’ll totally respect it if you don’t want more, but I can’t keep doing only the sex. I want to be able to take care of you, too.”

She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. He didn’t try to stop her this time. “Chris, I’m seven years older than you, and we live in different states. We were in a play together once. Beyond that, we really don’t have anything in common—”

“Bullshit,” he said again. “I don’t care about the age difference. You’re selling your house, anyway—move to California. Or I could fly up here whenever. It’s not that far, and I can afford it. And I admire you, Joy. I like the way you’re pitching in to help Victor and the Players. I like how determined you are to make things better for yourself and everyone around you. Like I said, if you don’t want us to be anything more, I’ll—well, I won’t understand exactly, but I’ll deal with it. But I can’t keep doing what we’re doing if there’s no chance of it going anywhere.”

She sipped at her water, less now because she was thirsty than to give herself time to think. “Chris, I like you a lot too, but … look, you might not care about the age difference now, but you will sooner or later. What if you want kids? I’m not even sure if I can have kids anymore.”

He looked thoughtful. “Maybe I could at least take you out to dinner before we start worrying about whether or not we have kids?” he asked.

She managed a small laugh. “You know what I mean, though, don’t you? In your job, you’re surrounded by gorgeous women who are a lot younger than I am—”

He groaned in frustration. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, woman? What do I have to do to convince you that you’re totally hot?”

She felt her cheeks get warm. “My self-esteem is actually in pretty good shape these days. Hot sex with a younger man will do that.” She caught his eye and gave him a small smile, relieved to see a ghost of a smile flicker across his face in response. “I’m more worried about the future.” She looked at her lap and fingered the rich satin of her dress. “I don’t want to go through another situation like with my ex.”

He leaned in and took her hands, looking her square in the eyes. “Look, I don’t know what the future will bring, but I do know that I’ll never cheat on you. I have a lot of faults, Joy, but that’s not one of them.”

She looked into his earnest blue eyes, seeing an eagerness and sincerity there that touched her. She nodded. “I think … I could believe that. But, you know, it wasn’t me who told you that Scott cheated on me.” She shook her head at the slightly guilty expression that crossed his face. “It doesn’t matter who did—it’s pretty much common knowledge. And that’s the thing—living in a fishbowl like that, having your personal life dissected in public—it’s horrible. I hated that almost as much as I hated the fact that he had an affair. Maybe that doesn’t say very much about our marriage, but … the point is, I’m not sure if I’m cut out to date someone in the public eye.”

He nodded, absorbing her words. He was still holding her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “I get that. I do. I can’t not be in the public eye to some extent, but I promise you, I won’t do anything that will bring the tabloids down on us. I’ll talk to my publicist about it, and make sure we do everything to keep you out of it, if that’s what you want. Just tell me you’d be willing to try at least.”

They sat in silence for a moment. She was conscious of the way his large hands wrapped around hers and held them gently.

If he weren’t a celebrity, would she date him?

The answer—a resounding yes—came to her immediately.

“I think … maybe we could give it a try,” she said softly.

He leaned in and she had barely a moment to register what he was about to do before she blinked away her surprise and surrendered to the sensation of his lips on hers. The first kiss was soft and tentative; the next was deeper and more passionate. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, felt his hand cup her face. The softness of his lips in contrast with the coarse texture of his beard was tantalizing. She parted her lips in response to his probing tongue, and the kiss grew more urgent.

“I always loved this dress,” he murmured, tracing her collarbone with his finger. The Renaissance-style shirt that he wore opened in a wide V at the collar and she slipped one hand inside, caressing his shoulder, thrilled anew at the feel of his smooth skin and the firm muscle beneath it.

With a barely audible groan, he pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to hers again. Sight and sound seemed to fall away like they had on the theater steps, but this time the sensations that accompanied the loss were pure delight.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the back door.

They broke away from each other in surprise, and then smiled guiltily at each other.

The banging came again. “Are you in there? I don’t have a key!” a voice called from outside.

“Charlotte,” they both said at the same time.

He stood up and straightened his shirt. “Stay there. I’ll get it.”

A moment later he was back with Charlotte, followed closely by Luke and Tracie, who carried costumes.

“Mom, are you okay?” Charlotte sounded uncharacteristically subdued.

Joy felt extremely self-conscious under their scrutiny. “I’m fine. I just got a little light-headed in the heat.”

Charlotte studied her. “You’re not as pale as you were. Now your face is kind of red.”

“That’s because it’s embarrassing to have all of you staring at me.” Joy stood up and smoothed down her skirt. “Come on. Let’s hang those costumes up so we can get to the Falls for Chris’s picnic.”

An awkwardness hung over the small group as they sorted and hung up the costumes, as if the newcomers guessed they’d interrupted something. Joy caught Charlotte looking at her suspiciously and tried to ignore her. Tracie hummed cheerfully to herself but didn’t speak, and Luke and Chris were silent, though she noticed that Chris couldn’t repress a smile.

Luke finally cleared his throat, “So, how was your trip?” he asked Chris, trying to make conversation.

“It was good,” Chris answered, folding a pair of peasant breeches and putting them over a hanger. “Went to a pop culture convention in Chicago. That was a lot of fun, and I got to hang out with some friends from the movie. Then I was back in LA for talks about the sequel. They’re already talking about doing some preliminary location shooting in November in Sulawesi.”

Joy turned to stare at him.

“Where’s that?” asked Luke.

“Some island in Indonesia.”

Joy shifted her gaze to Tracie, who responded with a huge grin and a thumbs up.