she’d visited the area years ago as part of a high school field trip. “I’ve been to Napa Valley once. It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is. I hated leaving it,” he said after putting on the smock.
She glanced over and met those killer eyes again. “Then why did you?”
He would be justified to tell her it wasn’t her business, she quickly thought, but for some reason she knew he wouldn’t do that. They had met just moments ago, but she felt she knew him, or knew men like him. No, she corrected herself. She didn’t know any man like him, and how she could say that with such certainty, she wasn’t sure.
“I left to pursue my dream. Unfortunately, it wasn’t connected to my family business,” he said.
Now that she understood. Her sister and uncle always thought she would join them in the family business, but she hadn’t. Limelight Entertainment Management had been founded by her father, John Wellesley, and his brother Jacob. It had been the dream they shared and made into reality, with the purpose of representing and building the careers of African American actors during a time when there were many prejudices in Hollywood. Today the company was still very highly respected and had helped many well-known stars jumpstart their careers.
“It’s a nice tattoo, but I’ll need to use some cream to completely cover it for the shoot. Dr. Perry doesn’t have a tattoo,” she explained, pressing a button that eased the chair into a reclining position
“That’s no problem. Do whatever you have to do, Rachel.”
It wasn’t what he’d said but how he’d said it that sent sensuous chills coursing through her. For a timeless moment, they stared at each other as heat flooded her in a way it never had before. As the flames of awareness licked at her body, somehow a part of her—the sensible part—remained unscathed. In a nagging voice it reminded her that she needed to get back on track and prep Ethan for his scene.
She swallowed and broke eye contact with him again as she turned to reach for her makeup kit. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you so nervous?” she decided to ask him while checking different tubes of makeup cream for one that would work with his complexion and skin type. It was August, and although the air conditioner on the set would be on full blast, all the lighting being used would generate heat. She needed to prevent any facial shiny spots from showing up on camera.
He shifted in his seat and she glanced over at him. “This is the first day on the job of what I see as my big break,” he said, straightening in the chair. “This is what I’ve worked my ass off for since the day I decided acting was what I wanted to do. I’ve done small parts in theater and guest spots on a couple of shows and was even an extra on Avatar, but being here, getting this opportunity, is a dream come true.”
She nodded, knowing just how he felt. She had wanted to step out on her own without any help from her family’s name. She had submitted her résumé to Glenn Productions and had gotten called in for an interview with both Frasier and John. Although Frasier had been a friend of her father’s, and both men were well acquainted with Sofia since she was Uncle Jacob’s partner in the family business, Rachel was convinced she had been given the job on her own merits and hadn’t been given any preferential treatment.
This was her second season on the show and she worked doubly hard to make sure Frasier and John never regretted their decision to give her a chance. So, yes, she knew all about dreams coming true.
The first thing she thought as she applied a light brush to Ethan’s face was that he had flawless skin with a healthy glow. He had perfect bone structure and his lips were shapely and full. She bent toward him to gently brush his brows and was glad he had closed his eyes since crazy things were going on in the pit of her stomach. A tightness was there that had never been there before. She drew in a deep breath to relieve the pressure. His aftershave smelled good. Almost too good for her peace of mind.
“So tell me, Rachel, what’s your dream?”
She smiled. “What makes you think I have one?”
“All women do.”
She chuckled. “Sounds like you think you know us pretty well.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I would think everyone has at least one dream they would love to see come true.”
“I agree, and this is mine—being a makeup artist and wardrobe designer.”
“You’re good at it. Very professional.”
He opened his eyes to meet hers and she was aroused in a way that just wasn’t acceptable, especially for a woman who made it her motto never to mix business with pleasure.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a step back and reaching over to grab a hand mirror to give to him. “You didn’t need much. I don’t believe in being heavy-handed with makeup.”
“I can appreciate that.”
She had made up enough men in her day to know if they had a choice they would gladly skip this part in preparing for their scene. “Now for that tattoo. I have just the thing to blend in with your skin tone that won’t rub off. And later you can wash it off.”
“Okay.”
He held out his arm and she began applying the cream. Against her fingertips, his skin felt warm, slowly sending her body into meltdown. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to glance up and look at him for fear that he would know what touching him was doing to her. Instead she tried concentrating on what she was doing. This time, though, she was too distracted by other things, such as the feel of his strong veins beneath her fingers and the rapid beat of his pulse. Her body responded with a raging flood of desire that seeped into her bones.
Not being able to resist temptation any longer, she looked over at him. For a long, achingly seductive moment, they stared at each other. She wanted to look away but it was as if he controlled the movement of her neck and it refused to budge. She swallowed the panic she felt lodged in her throat as she slowly released his hand. So much for being a firm believer in the separation of business and pleasure. For a moment, no matter how brief, thoughts had filled her mind about how it would be to take her hand and rub it down his chest and then move her hand even lower to—
There was a quick knock at the door before it opened and Paige walked in. And for the first time ever, Rachel was glad to see the woman.
Chapter Three
“If he’s as hot as you say he is, then maybe you should let him know you might be interested, Rachel.”
Rachel wiped paint from her hands as she glared at the phone. If her best friend since elementary school wasn’t there in person to see her frown, transmitting it through the speakerphone was the next best thing. “I’m not interested.”
And because she knew Charlene would belabor the point, she went on the defensive and said, “Look, Cha, I thought you of all people would understand. You know I don’t like mixing business with pleasure. Besides, I have plenty of work to do.”
Charlene laughed. “You always have plenty of work to do. If becoming involved with a man is a way to slow you down, then I’m all for it. It’s time you started having fun.”
Rachel
