finest.
So, okay, she had let her guard down and let herself be affected by him. But tomorrow would be better. She had gotten used to him and would be more in control.
With that resolved, she proceeded to finish her meal.
“Do you promise, Uncle Ethan?”
Ethan couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I promise.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, truly.”
His six-year-old niece, Kendra, had him wrapped around her finger and probably knew it, he thought. When his parents had mentioned to her that Los Angeles was close to Disneyland, she had begun asking him questions. Mainly she wanted to know if he’d seen any princesses.
Just to hear her voice was a sheer delight because Kendra hadn’t done much talking since her mother had died three years ago in a car accident. She had pretty much been withdrawn and quiet much of the time. But she would always talk to her Uncle Ethan.
“Daddy wants to talk to you, Uncle Ethan.”
“Okay, sweetheart, and always remember you’re Uncle Ethan’s cupcake.”
“I remember. Nighty-night.”
He then heard her hand the phone over to his brother, Hunter, after telling her daddy nighty-night, too and after exchanging an “I love you” and an “I love you back.” It was only then that Hunter placed the phone to his ear. “What’s going on, kid?”
Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle. There was an eight year difference in their ages, and Hunter never let him forget it. But even with that big variation, they’d always gotten along. Like all brothers, they’d had their disagreements, but they’d never lasted more than a few hours. Except for that one time a few years ago when Hunter had tried pressuring him into staying in the family business and getting all those ideas out of his head about making it big in Hollywood.
Ethan had left home anyway to pursue his dream. It was only after the fatal car accident that claimed Hunter’s wife’s life—an accident that Hunter and Kendra had survived—that Hunter had understood why Ethan had to do what he did. He’d learned that life was too precious and fleeting to take for granted. Tomorrow wasn’t promised to anyone.
“Nothing much is going on. Kendra talked a lot tonight,” he said.
“Only because it’s you. She loves her uncle Ethan. Besides, she wanted to ask you all about princesses.”
Ethan grinned. “Yeah, I noticed. What’s up with that?”
“The Princess and the Frog. She’s seen it five times already. I should blame you since you’re the one who got her the DVD as soon as it went on sale.”
“Hey, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my cupcake,” he said, meaning it.
He talked to Hunter for a few minutes longer before his brother passed the phone to their folks. In addition to the winery, Hunter and his parents ran a small four-star bed-and-breakfast on the property. It was always good to call home because he truly missed everyone, and updates were priceless.
“And you’re eating properly, Ethan?”
He cringed at his mother’s question, knowing he would have to tell her a little white lie, especially when at that very moment the timer went off to let him know his microwave dinner was ready. He had a beer to drink and his dessert would be a bag of peanut M&M’s he’d grabbed out of the vending machine when he’d left the studio today. Paige had invited him to her place for dinner but he had declined.
He removed his dinner from the microwave and said, “Yes, Mom, I’m eating properly.”
“Met any nice girls you want to bring home?”
She has to be kidding. The last few girls he dated weren’t any he would dare bring home for his parents, brother and niece to meet. But then the face of his sexy pixie flashed across his mind and he couldn’t help but think that she would work. For some reason he liked her, and the sexual vibes between them hadn’t gone unnoticed, although it was evident she’d tried ignoring them.
Besides, he didn’t have time to meet girls—nice or any other kind. He had lines to study every night, especially tonight. Frasier had been impressed with him today and had added another scene to his schedule for tomorrow.
“No, Mom, so don’t go planning a wedding for me yet.”
Later that night when he slid into bed, he couldn’t help but think just how blessed he was. Both of his parents were alive and in good health. As the oldest son, Hunter had taken on his role with ease and was the perfect businessman to manage the family’s vast wealth. And Hunter had had the insight to utilize the property surrounding the winery to build the bed-and-breakfast, which was doing extremely well. The reservation list was always filled up a year in advance.
As much as he’d loved Napa Valley, Ethan had known it wasn’t in his blood to the extent it had been in Hunter’s. After college, he returned home and tried working alongside Hunter and his parents, but he hadn’t been happy. Hunter had said it was wanderlust and that eventually he would get over it, but he never did. A year later he had made up his mind to pursue his dream.
So here he was, living in a nice place in L.A. and building the career he’d always wanted. Money was no object, thanks to a trust fund that had been set up by his grandparents as well as the financial standing of the winery, in which he was a stockholder. Of course, every once in a while some smart-ass reporter would ask him why an independently wealthy person would want to work. He was sure Anderson Cooper was asked the same question often enough, too. Ethan wasn’t privy to Anderson’s response, but his was simply, “Wealthy or poor, everyone has dreams, and there is such a thing as continued money growth.”
He reached over to turn off the lamp light, thinking that things had gone better than he’d expected on the set today. His lines had flowed easily, and for a while he had stepped into the role of Dr. Tyrell Perry. To prepare, he had watched medical movies and had volunteered his time at a hospital for ninety days. He had come away with an even greater respect for those in the medical industry.
As he stared up at the ceiling his thoughts shifted to the woman he’d met that day, Rachel Wellesley. There had been something about her that pulled her to him like a magnet. Something about her that he found totally adorable. Even among the sea of model-type women on the set, she had somehow stood out.
And when she had leaned over him to apply whatever it was she brushed on his face, he had inhaled her scent. With his eyes closed, he had breathed it all in while imagining all sorts of things. It was a soft scent, yet it had been hot enough to enflame his senses.
So he had sat there, letting her have her way with his face while he imagined all kind of things, especially the image of her naked.
More than once during the shoot, he had had to remind himself that he didn’t really know her and that it would be crazy to lose focus. But he would be the first to admit that he hadn’t counted on being bowled over by a woman who had to tilt her head all the way back just to look up at him. He smiled, remembering the many times they had looked at each other and the number of times they had tried not to do so. And nothing could erase from his mind the sight of the soft smile that had touched her lips when she’d seen his tattoo and when
