The director and a producer were both staring at me like I was some sort of fish swimming around a bowl. A very small bowl.

“We might as well,” Florence said.

I’d spent the past half hour tucked away in a small office, studying lines from a script they’d given me, one scene in particular. They’d told me they’d have me do a reading for them, but now they were asking me to do a scene with Florence instead.

The good news was it was the scene right after the one I’d studied. I’d read it, too, curious, so I had it mostly memorized.

She laughed, looking a little nervous as she glanced over to where the others were watching us. “Are you ready to do this?”

I blew out a breath. So much for a quick, easy reading, then waiting to hear back what they thought.

No, they just wanted to throw me right into it and see what happened. They wanted to see if I had chemistry with Florence.

“Like you said,” I told her with a tight smile. “We might as well.”

I checked the script once more, made sure I had the lines down, then put it on the table. The set was done up to look like a kitchen. It wasn’t completed, but there was still another week before shooting. The table looked like the kind you’d find in any number of homes, especially an old farmhouse. A bowl of fake fruit sat there, and the sight of overly bright red apples reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything.

As the pages settled, the director called out, “I want the whole scene.”

“I know.” I focused on Florence.

She glanced at the script. “You’ve got a number of lines.”

“I know.” I offered my hand. “Let’s do this.”

She put her hand in mine.

“You’re going to fall in love again.” The first line to the scene.

Florence blinked and immediately, her face took on a dewy, forlorn expression. “No, Sebastien…no. I don’t think I ever will. Michael was my whole heart, and now he’s gone. My heart went with him.”

“No…your heart is broken, but it’s still there.” I moved closer and tucked my index finger under her chin, raising her face to mine. “You’re broken and grieving right now. But you’ll wake up one day…”

We went through the scene once, and then again. When we were finished with the second time, we both turned and looked at the director and producer. The director, a small, mousey-looking man by the name of Kurt Thornton, started clapping his hands delightedly.

“Perfect.” He started for the set. “Absolutely perfect. How did you memorize those lines so fast?”

I hitched up a shoulder in a shrug.

The producer, one Scott Watson, remained seated, and Kurt turned to look at him. “What do you think?”

Scott didn’t speak, but he offered a small, pleased smile and a nod.

We did it one more time, then he told me to go to wardrobe and get measured.

Yeah, yeah. I’d do that.

But I needed a breath of fresh air first.

It was hotter than hell under the lights, and I had a headache.

Finding the nearest exit door, I slid outside and placed my back to the wall, staring off at nothing.

My heart was pounding.

My hands were sweating.

I was nervous, I realized.

And my head was killing me. The rough brick at my back was hot, the sun even hotter, and none of that was helping the headache—but I wasn’t ready to go back inside yet.

I’d been up too late the past night. Had too much to drink.

I definitely hadn’t been planning on coming in to audition for a role in a new movie.

I could use another twelve hours horizontal and some aspirin for my headache. Maybe some food.

And coffee.

I could, at the very least, get some food and coffee, maybe even some aspirin, inside.

That in mind, I shoved off the wall.

Just as I went to open the door to go back inside, I heard a woman’s voice—her furious voice.

I paused, listening.

It came again and the words were very clear.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch!”

I took off running.

Rounding the corner, I came to a stumbling stop, frozen. That lasted all of a second as my brain took in what I was seeing.

Then, as rage settled in, I lunged forward and grabbed the man who’d put his hands on Maya.

His nose was bleeding already—I took note of that, realizing she must have punched him, and I couldn’t help but feel some pride even as I spun him around and drove my fist into his gut. He doubled over in surprise and I took advantage of that, slamming my elbow into the back of his head.

He crumpled and hit the ground, hard.

Breathing heavy, I looked at Maya.

She was panting as well, clearly shaken.

Her eyes were glassy as she looked at me and I reached out, caught her arm, and drew her to me.

“Are you okay?” I asked urgently. She was pale, and her mouth was trembling.

I wanted to grab the bastard from the ground and beat him all over again.

“I…” She stopped and licked her lips.

I couldn’t stop myself. I found my gaze dropping down to her mouth. Guilt slammed into me and immediately, I jerked my eyes back to meet hers.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. She bit her lip, then looked at my mouth.

“That’s not a good idea,” I said roughly. But I also stroked my thumb across the inside of her arm.

“What isn’t?”

“Looking at me like that. It’s just a bad an idea as this.”

Her mouth parted and heat flooded her eyes. “As what?”

“This.”

It was stupid. It was crazy. The man who’d grabbed her was still lying unconscious at my feet. And still, I reached up and cupped her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“This,” I said again. Right before I kissed her.

Her mouth was soft and supple, and she opened her lips on a sigh.

I’d kissed women before who hadn’t known what to do. I’d kissed women who had responded almost like they wanted to eat me alive. I’d kissed women who had just stood there and let me do everything, clearly enjoying it, but not willing to go all in with me.

Kissing Maya wasn’t like that.

She reached up and curled her hand into the front of my shirt, tugging me closer as she rose onto her toes.

Her head fell back and a soft moan escaped her.

Then, her tongue slid out to rub against mine, tasting me as surely as I tasted her.

That taste was one that I’d remember, one I’d crave in the darkest nights.

Tangling my free hand in her hair, I nudged her backward until she was braced against the brick wall behind her. Then, slowly, I leaned into her, letting her take my weight and enjoying the feel of her slender body against mine. She wiggled a bit, sending all sorts of jolts of sensations through me. My cock jerked in response, and that elicited another moan from her.

Letting go of her chin, I slid my hand down and cupped her hip, tugging her against me.

She shivered.

I wanted to get us someplace private.

I wanted to get her naked.

I wanted to get inside her.

Now.