heated. Oh, he was decently enough dressed today, in jeans and a simple black tee that fit snugly against his body, but memories of what lay under those clothes …
“Regardless, I’d rather you wait outside and we go somewhere to talk.”
Finn pulled a bottle out and offered it to her. When she shook her head, he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Then he sat instead of leaving. She had to wonder if he was being difficult intentionally.
“Why can’t we talk here? It’s hot out there.”
She pulled the robe tighter across her chest and wished it covered a bit more thigh. “I’d rather not.”
Finn’s exasperated look was almost funny. “What is with you, Caity?”
“Nothing. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be seen meeting privately in my trailer. It’s … inappropriate and might be misconstrued.” Ugh, she sounded like a virgin schoolteacher.
Finn’s look said the same thing. “You’re not serious?”
“As you helpfully noted last night, my being within fifty feet of you will be enough to send the paparazzi into a frenzy. I’d rather not give them more to feed on.” She went to the closet and grabbed jeans and tee shirt and waited for him to leave.
Finn ignored the hint, so she frowned at him to make her point. He gave her a look that questioned her mental stability instead, so she took her clothes to the bathroom and closed the door to get dressed.
“I’m afraid it won’t take even that much,” he called through the door.
“Exactly,” she shouted back. “As soon as we’re seen together—however innocent it may be—all those old, embarrassing pictures of us are going to resurface. I can’t live all that down as old news if there’s speculation there’s new news.”
Now decent, she came out and opened the shades on every window, giving anyone who walked by a clear view of what was going on inside. She’d have opened the door, but that would have just let the heat in. She wasn’t willing to go that far. Propriety would just have to be served by open shades.
As she took her seat on the far side of the table, Finn snorted. “You’re taking this a little far, don’t you think?”
“I’m just cautious. You may not give a damn about appearances, but I do.”
“How kind of you to worry about me.” The smirk told her he was deliberately misinterpreting her words.
“Only to the extent that your reputation will impugn mine. I think we’ve proved that you can raise hell and people will still respect you, but I can’t. It’s a horrible double standard, so I’ve worked very, very hard to clean up my act.” She picked up her water and drank deeply. After two disastrous starts, she really needed to bring her interactions with Finn back to the business they had in common. And only that. “So, what brings you by, Finn?”
He chuckled, and it put her on guard. “That very topic, actually.”
“Your reputation?”
“Paparazzi, speculation, new news …”
That was odd. Those were the top three things Finn normally didn’t even deign to give five minutes of his time to. He really didn’t care about tabloid gossip.
A warning tingled up her spine, but she forced her face to remain merely curious and clasped her hands together to keep them still. “Okay.”
“After meeting with Dolby and Farrell this morning, we’ve decided to close the set for the rest of filming. Considering our past, they agreed it might be disruptive or distracting to have to worry about uncontrolled press for the next five weeks.”
She held up a hand. “Wait.” Barring any disasters, they’d be finished filming here by then. They shouldn’t have to close the set permanently unless … Damn. She tried to keep her voice just this side of mildly curious. “You’re not going back to L.A.?”
“No. Dolby will head back with the second unit tomorrow.”
A headache began to form behind her right eye. “But why?”
“Because.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but there was only silence. The man could be so unbelievably frustrating. She rubbed her temples. Ugh. “So you’ll be here through the end?”
“Yep. Do you have a problem with that?” he challenged.
“No,” she lied. She had a big problem with that. Multiple big problems. You’re an actress. You’ll just have to act like it’s not a problem. “Do you?”
Finn looked completely unconcerned. In fact, he seemed to be biting back a smile. “Not at all.”
“Okay, then.” She took a deep breath. She, too, could play this game. “I’m glad you closed the set. I’d like to concentrate on my job. Not worrying about the press will make that easier. For all of us,” she added.
“Unfortunately we’re a little late for that.”
That warning tingle took on an unpleasant sharp edge. As Finn pulled a couple of pieces of paper out of the stack and pushed them toward her, that edge cut deep into her skin.
Pictures printed from a blog. Oh, no. Caitlyn’s stomach sank. He first thought was that some blogger had already dug up old pictures of her dancing on tables and being carried out of bars by Finn. Or, even worse, that one picture of her and Finn on his motorcycle, her skirt hiked up too far and Finn’s hand …
She didn’t recognize the pictures, but the relief that flooded in was short-lived. There had been witnesses last night, after all. Damn. A picture of Finn and that guy staring each other down, another of her and Finn sitting on the bench, and another of her walking away, anger written across her face and irritation stamped on Finn’s. She didn’t need to read the accompanying text to add to the ill feeling rolling through her stomach.
“Already? Geez.”
“I’d say welcome back, but—”
“I’d have to kill you if you did.” Caitlyn took a deep breath and blew it out. “Are you sure you can’t swap things around and go back to L.A.? Just let me get this film done without dealing with that kind of garbage?”
“No. And it would only postpone the inevitable, anyway.” He looked at her oddly. “I mean, you do plan to move back to L.A. and start working again, right?”
“That’s the plan. I’d hoped to have Folly under my belt, though, first. Something for people to talk about other than just my past.”
His eyes widened. “So you really don’t want that kind of publicity?”
Finally something she’d said was sinking in. “God, no.”
“It made you a household name.”
That reminder was unnecessary. She’d spent the last three years trying to
