Chapter Ten
Over the course of her acting career, Sophie had probably kissed hundreds of men. But most of those had been stage kisses.
And for all that this kiss was supposed to be theatrical—and it was definitely designed to be caught on film—there was nothing at all insincere about it.
As a matter of fact, it might have been the hottest kiss she’d ever experienced. The feel of his firm lips against hers sent a shock through her entire body, leaving her shaking, trembling from surprise. Almost without her volition, her arms snaked up around his neck. Her fingers threaded through the back of his sandy brown hair, tugging him closer to her as if she could make sure the kiss never ended.
A deep, possessive sound echoed from somewhere down in his chest and tightened his arms around her even as his tongue gently teased her lips open. The heat of him filled her senses, like a drug that left her dizzy and reeling and wanting more. He tasted like summer to her—hot and clean and fresh. Aching desire swept through her in a way she would never have expected.
It took her more than a moment to realize that the flashing lights were actually the camera flashbulbs going off and not some further effect of Zeke’s kiss. When he finally gently ended the kiss and pulled away from her just far enough to make eye contact, she laughed a little shakily.
“That was…” Her voice trailed off. “More intense than I would’ve expected,” she finally finished.
Zeke’s smile was all male and more than a little protective. “It’s exactly what I would’ve expected. Except the real thing is much better than anything I could’ve imagined.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tor give Zeke a little wave and a grin and head back to Leta.
“I need to call my publicist,” Sophie finally said, her voice trembling.
Zeke took the phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“Probably,” Sophie hedged.
“One more dance tonight, no matter what your publicist says you should do.”
“I promise,” she smiled as she stepped back toward the window where they’d had their earlier conference with Tor.
Her hands shook as she prepared to dial Eileen’s number on Tor’s phone.
This day had begun with Zeke saving her from an actual fire. It looks like he was about to save her from a virtual one as well. And for all that she had told him that this is not a real date, Sophie was beginning to wish that it was something more than make-believe.
* * *
Ten minutes later, she ended the call. When she turned around, Zeke was standing by a table several feet away—far enough away so that he couldn’t overhear her conversation, but close enough to keep an eye on her—and holding a champagne flute out toward her.
He might be the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met.
She accepted the glass gratefully and took a long drink.
Much better than sweet tea.
And almost as heady as Zeke’s kiss.
The band struck up a slow song. “Dance?” he asked.
Sophie nodded and placed her hand in his. When they reached the dance floor, she moved into his arms as if she belonged there, and rested her head against his shoulder.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked after a moment.
“My publicist is pretty sure this whole plan is a disaster. She thinks it would be better if I stayed in Dallas overnight and joined the rest of the cast and crew tomorrow morning for filming—going back out to Tor’s ranch will only feed the rumors that he’s really the one I’m involved with.”
“Right. Because that’s much more plausible than hooking up with a no-count ranch hand.”
“Hey.” She stared into his eyes intently. “I never said anything like that. Eileen wants to protect me.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Besides, you said you wanted to help, too.”
“I do,” he said. “How do you want to do this?”
“Eileen’s already booked me a room here for the night.”
“So I just … leave you here?”
The sense of devastation that washed through her at the words surprised her. “I guess so,” she said.
This was stupid. She’d just met the man that morning.
That’s what she told herself, anyway.
But she knew that she would like the chance to get to know him better. In the course of just one day, he had made her laugh more than she had in longer than she could remember.
Even now, he tried to cheer her up.
“Ah, hell,” he whispered into her hair. “If I go running back home after you dress me up and take me to the ball, does that make me Cinderella?”
“Only if you leave one of your cowboy boots behind for me to find you with,” she snickered.
He laughed with her. “Not likely. These things are hell to get off.”
“Good. I don’t want a stinky old boot, anyway.”
Pulling back far enough to frown at her indignantly, he said, in his snootiest tone, “These are my dress boots. They are not stinky.” He paused, his gaze on her face considering. “I really should have found a way to bring a work boot along. Now those can get pretty ripe.”
“Gee,” she replied dryly. “What a lovely gift idea. I think I’ll suggest it as a giveaway at our screening of this film.”
“You know, I didn’t even have a chance to ask you what the movie is about.” He twirled her around, spinning them across the dance floor.
“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly, “the usual. Tough cowboy, pretty girl, evil bad guys. Some gunfights, few kisses.”
“A few stinky work boots,” Zeke added.
With that, he kissed her through the laughter one more time before leading her off the dance floor to say goodbye to Tor and Leta.