wore ripped into his stomach, spreading remembered and familiar heat and want through his veins. He recognized that smile, knew it, had had it directed at him when he … When they … Disgusted, Finn turned and walked away.
Dolby trotted beside him. Once they were safely out of range, he spoke quietly, “If this thing with Cait is going to be a problem, I’ll stay and you can go back to L.A.”
Why wouldn’t Dolby just let it go? Probably because he knew far more than Finn was really comfortable with at the moment. “There is no ‘thing’ with Cait, so there’s no problem, either. I refuse to make a big deal out of this. The set is closed, Cait’s going to go out and pretend to be hot for Jason Elkins and I’m going to produce this movie. If everyone will just do their damn jobs, it will all be fine.”
Dolby threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Folly is all yours.”
“How kind of you.”
The assistant director waved them down and Dolby went to see what he needed. Finn went to the trailer housing the production office and tried to lose himself in the seemingly endless number of emails. About twenty minutes later, the subject line on one brought him up short: Comment on Caitlyn Reese’s return?
Finn sighed. On the off-chance it was actually something worthwhile, he clicked it open. Nope. No questions about Folly or the role of Rebecca or anything else that might be considered anything other than tabloid-ready gossip.
Good Lord. When he’d left for Monaco, Folly had been newsworthy because of the importance of the project. The book had a nearly cult-like following, and was required reading at many universities, so film companies had been trying to buy the rights to the book for decades. Dolfinn’s success had been hailed as the get of the year.
He wouldn’t care if the attention shifted to one of the cast or the director, because that would be equally valid. In the last few days, as word had spread that not only had Cait been cast but that he would be on the set, Folly’s buzz had shifted toward the tawdry. The media was circling, but not in a good way.
He deleted the email without responding. The invasion of his private life didn’t really bother him. Hell, he’d never had much of a private life. The Marshall family was always in the news: being rich and politically connected equaled fame, and he’d grown up in the fishbowl of power politics. It wasn’t personal. And if it was personal, well, he’d learned long ago not to let that faze him.
He’d built his own reputation in L.A., proving that Marshall DNA wasn’t destiny, but his connections and success only increased the glare of the spotlight. Honestly, he didn’t care what was said about him; he lived his life exactly as he damn well pleased and the rest of the world could shove it. That was the one lesson he’d learned from his father that had served him well. Professional success came with personal scrutiny, but enough success meant his private life couldn’t outshout it. Fame, fortune and power made him blog fodder, but they also meant he didn’t have to answer to anyone about anything.
Why, then, did this sudden Cait-fueled interest irritate him? God knew there was nothing about their previous relationship that hadn’t made the tabloids, and he’d never given that a second thought.
Until now. And he was finding out it was something he really didn’t want to think about.
It made no sense at all.
“Beautiful, Caitlyn. Absolutely wonderful. You and Jason are just magic together.”
Caitlyn accepted the compliments with a smile as she waited for the crew to reset the shot and the makeup artists swooped in to fix her hair and lipstick. She reached for a bottle of water and sipped gently through the straw. What she’d really like to do was swish and gargle to get the taste of Jason out of her mouth, but that probably wouldn’t go over well.
She bit back a laugh. He looked good, smelled even better, and women everywhere would kill to be in her shoes right now. If only the teen magazines knew that their current cover hottie and winner of “Best Lips” should actually take home the title of “Worst Kisser.” Not that a screen kiss would ever equal a real kiss, but jeez … There were close-ups involved, so chaste, fake kisses just wouldn’t do. At their last rehearsal Walter had thundered on about authenticity and making it real, and she was really doing her best. If this was the best Jason could do … Well, Caitlyn felt a little bad for the women he dated.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn and froze. What the hell? It wasn’t that he didn’t belong here—he had full run of the set and there was a good chance he had a legitimate reason for observing the filming—but something slithered down her spine at the thought of him watching her do this.
It just seemed … icky. As if it was wrong somehow, even though she knew that was ridiculous. They weren’t an item anymore, and this was professional kissing, not recreational. Then why did she suddenly feel like …?
The sound of her name pulled her out of her shock, and she realized the crew was waiting for her. Clearing her mind, she lay down next to Jason and let Walter direct her into place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and at that moment she realized why Jason smelled so good.
That was the aftershave Finn used to wear.
Pieces fell into place and memories rushed back at her, crowding her mind’s eye too quickly for her to focus on anything else. Damn it. Now was not the time to wander down that path. But as Jason’s hands moved across her back it was all too easy to pretend it was just part of those memories. That those were Finn’s hands touching her, his breath against her neck, his lips … A shiver ran over her body.
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face, and when she opened her eyes it was Finn’s face she saw, his eyes hooded and glowing with desire. She let the memories wash over her and take control. Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for the buttons on her blouse, then a hand caught her hair and pulled her down against a broad chest. Only part of her mind registered the crew watching and the directions being quietly fed to her; something else was guiding her.
The word, “Cut!” finally caught her attention, and she snapped back to herself. The realization of who she was actually with sent heat to her cheeks, but she forced herself to keep her face still. Looking around, she saw the big smile on the director’s face, and stunned looks from some of the crew.
Jason pushed himself to a sitting position and shook like a wet dog. Her lipstick stained his lips. “Wow, Caitlyn. Hell of a take.”
Thank God this was a professional crew. They expected realism. She was the only one who needed to know what had actually happened, and as the compliments about that “magic” started again she didn’t bother to correct anyone who wanted to gush about the chemistry she had with Jason.
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