“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I really didn’t need rescuing this time.”
“What makes you think I stepped in to rescue you?”
“Then who…? Oh. Arlene?”
“Right. Arlene. She doesn’t appear to share your confidence that what happened between you and Jamie is, how did you put it? Water over the dam?”
“I can’t help what she believes.” She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her baggy pants, her movements stiff and defensive in the lamplight. “I came here to make a movie, and only to make a movie.”
“A lot of people seem to believe otherwise.”
“Tough. I can’t avoid the past, but I’m certainly not going to let it get in my way.”
“The past being Jamie Chavez, or his wife?”
Her chin angled. “Look, this isn’t really any of your business. Let’s just—”
She broke off, her glance darting past him. Behind him, Reece heard the sound of the café door banging shut.
“Oh, hell!”
It didn’t take an Einstein to guess who had just walked out. After a short, pregnant pause, Sydney shot him a challenge.
“Okay, hotshot,” she muttered, lifting her arms to lock them around his neck. “You scripted this scene. We might as well act it out.”
Reece would have had to be poured from reinforced concrete not to respond to the body pressed so seductively against his. As slender as Sydney was, she fit him perfectly in every spot that mattered…and at this point that was just about everywhere. Little sparks ignited where their knees brushed, their hips met, their chests touched.
“Let’s make it look good,” she whispered, rising up on tiptoe to brush her mouth to his.
Reece held out for all of ten seconds before he lost the short, fierce battle he waged with himself. Her mouth was too soft, too seductive, to ignore. Spanning her waist, he slid his hands around to the small of her back.
She curved inward at the pressure, and the sparks sizzling where their bodies touched burst into flames. Reece shifted, widening his stance, bringing her into the notch between his legs.
She drew back, gasping a little at the intimate contact. The glow from the yellow lightbulb illuminated her startled face. The thrill that zinged through Reece at the sight of her parted lips and flushed face annoyed the hell out of him…and sent a rush of heat straight to his gut.
“Are they still there?” he growled softly.
She dragged her gaze from his to peer around his shoulder. “Yes.”
“Guess we’d better do a retake.”
With a small smile he bent her backward over his arm.
Chapter 4
W hen Sydney came up for air, her coherent first thought was that Reece Henderson had chosen the wrong profession. If he performed like this on stage or film, he’d walk away with a fistful of Oscars and Emmys.
The second, far-more-disconcerting thought was that she’d forgotten he was acting about halfway through their bone-rattling kiss.
The crunch of car tires on gravel brought her thumping back to earth. She pushed out of Reece’s arms, shaken to the toes of her scuffed boots, just in time to see a silver and maroon utility vehicle with the Chavez Ranch logo on the door pull out of the parking lot. Blowing a shaky breath, she turned back to her co-conspirator.
“That was quite a performance, Mr. Henderson. Let’s hope it doesn’t get back to your wife.”
“I’m not married.”
“Engaged? Not that I’m really interested, you understand, but I already have something of a reputation in this town. It would be nice to know what I’m adding to it.”
He shoved a hand through his closely trimmed black hair. Sydney felt a little dart of wholly feminine satisfaction at the red that singed his cheeks. She wasn’t the only one who’d put more than she planned into the kiss…or taken more out of it.
“No fiancée, no significant other, not even a dog,” he replied shortly. “My job keeps me on the road too much for anything that requires a commitment.”
Was that a warning? Sydney wondered. Well, she didn’t need it. She didn’t require anything from Reece Henderson except his cooperation for her documentary.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she replied dryly. “I don’t think I’ve got room on my chest for another scarlet A.”
His deliberate glance at the portion of her anatomy under discussion had Sydney battling the absurd urge to cross her arms. She never wore a bra…one, because she wasn’t well-enough endowed to require support and two, because she didn’t like any unnecessary constriction when she was working. Right now, though, she would gladly have traded a little constriction for the shield of a Maidenform. The tingling at the center of her breasts told her she was showing the effects of that stunning kiss. That, and the way Reece’s gaze lingered on her chest.
How embarrassing! And ridiculous! She hadn’t allowed any man to fluster her like this since—
Since Jamie.
The memory of her idiocy that long-ago summer acted like a bucket of cold water, fizzling out the shivery feeling left by Reece’s mouth and hands and appraising glance. She slanted her head, studying his square chin and faintly disapproving eyes.
“When you stepped into the fray tonight and hinted at something more than a casual acquaintance between us, you obviously wanted to send Jamie Chavez a message. Just out of curiosity, why does it matter to you what either he or his wife thinks?”
His jaw squared. “Maybe I don’t like to see a wife humiliated by her husband’s interest in another woman.”
The barb was directed at her as much as at Jamie. Sydney stiffened, but bit back a sharp reply. She refused to defend herself to him…or anyone else…again.
“And maybe it’s because I’ve got a job to do here,” he continued. “I made several trips to Chalo Canyon earlier this year to lay the groundwork and gain the cooperation of the locals, including the Chavez family.”
“Sebastian Chavez being the most important and influential of those locals?”
“Exactly. Until he learned about your plans to film the ruins, he was willing to work with me to address the worries of the other ranchers and farmers and businessmen. Since then, he’s become a major—”
“Pain in the butt?” Sydney supplied with syrupy sweetness.
“A major opponent of any delay.”
“Then he doesn’t have anything to worry about, does he? I’m as anxious to complete my project as you are yours. Speaking of which, are we still on schedule for 9:24 tomorrow?”
“Nine twenty-three,” he corrected with a disconcerting glint in his blue eyes.
Good Lord! Was that a glimmer of amusement? The idea that Reece Henderson could laugh at himself threw Sydney almost as much as his kiss had. What a contradictory man he was, all disapproving and square-jawed one moment, almost human and too damned attractive for her peace of mind the next.
Good thing her work would keep her occupied from dawn to dusk for the next two weeks. The last thing she needed at this critical juncture was distraction. This project meant too much to her emotionally and financially to jeopardize it with even a mild flirtation.
“I want to position my crew