Her harsh tone matched the annoyance in her eyes. “Honestly, no. But you could be a method actor and deep in character at the moment.”
The V deepened. “What character would that be?”
He studied her—curly, messy hair, slumping shoulders, two-sizes-too-big clothes that could be hiding some delectable curves. Or not. “Insecure girl desperately seeking a boyfriend.”
Her icy glare would have frozen the equator.
He’d been a little too honest. Next time he’d stick to being polite. “O-kay, not an actress.”
As she walked—almost marched—away from him, heading toward Chas’s place, Adam’s curiosity grew. No rings on her fingers. Hooking up with her could be a possibility. Though she wasn’t his type. He preferred athletic women who were tan, lithe and straight-to-bed sexy. Still he wouldn’t forget those eyes anytime soon.
“So …” he said.
“I’m here doing my job, Mr. Noble,” she said. “You don’t have to go out of your way to talk to me.”
Her straightforwardness surprised him.
“Call me Adam. I’m just messing with you about carrying my board. A little Hollywood hazing of the intern.” He waited to see if she was amused. Nope. He almost regretted making her carry the board. “I’ll take it now.”
She tightened her grip on the board and sped up.
Stubborn. Adam had to admit he was impressed by Megan Calhoun’s total lack of sucking up to him. He wanted to know more about her. “You sound like you’re from the South.”
No reply.
“You must be new in town,” he tried again.
Megan glanced his way again, only this time her gaze was wary. “Why do you say that?”
Her pale skin and clothing were dead giveaways. Not to mention her ignoring him. Most people no matter what their job title and status in the industry would leech on to him, like barnacles on the hull of a boat, in hopes of getting a boost to their own careers. “Just a hunch.”
“I’ve been here six days.”
“A newbie.”
She nodded.
“First time in Malibu?” he asked.
Another nod.
A breeze toyed with the ends of her hair. Adam wouldn’t mind twisting one of those curls around his finger. He imagined her hair loose, flowing past her shoulders in long ringlets. The temptation to remove her hair clip was strong.
Nah, better not try it. She would drop the Fish. Or hit him with it. The mousy ones could be a lot stronger than they looked. Megan might not have the posture of a ballerina, but she was showing some backbone.
“They call this weather the May Gray,” he explained. “The June Gloom follows.”
“I thought the beach would be sunny.”
“Don’t let the clouds fool you, you can still get sunburned. Always wear sunscreen.” That was what his mom had told him. He bet Megan’s nose would be a little pink soon. Her cheeks, too. “How do you like Los Angeles?”
“I haven’t seen much,” she said. “No time.”
It would be hard to sightsee and make friends with the hours interns worked. No pay. No sleep. Zero respect. “If you’re ever lonely and want me to show you around town …”
The offer escaped before he realized what he was saying.
Her pursed full lips looked as if they’d been specially made for slow hot kisses. Maybe she would say yes. He wouldn’t mind a kiss. He was curious whether she tasted sweet or bitter.
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’m not that lonely.”
Most likely bitter.
But her dismissive tone only piqued his interest. Chasing Megan could be interesting. Catching her, too. He winked. “At least not yet.”
She stumbled.
Adam grabbed hold of her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and the surfboard, to keep both from hitting the sand. Her body tensed beneath his hand. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
She stiffened more. “I’m okay now.”
Better than okay, actually. He expected the baggy clothes to be hiding a soft, lumpy body. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Megan Calhoun, intern, was full of surprises and much thinner and fitter than she looked. “Let go of the board.”
“I’m fine.”
“Let go or I won’t let go of you.”
Her hands released the board as if it were on fire.
He liked her doing what he said. Playful images of the things he wanted to tell her to do to him ran through his mind. He could think of a few ways to put a big smile on her face. He wondered how her eyes expressed attraction, desire, passion.
Megan accelerated her pace.
Adam kept up with her. “What’s the hurry?”
“My boss is watching us.”
He glanced up at the deck. Chas, who was producing Adam’s new film, stood next to Eva Redding, the costume designer. Adam hadn’t known which of the three costume people Megan would be working for, but she didn’t seem the type to get along with Eva. Not that many people got along with her. “You’re interning with Firebreather?”
Megan nodded.
Damn. Adam should have made the connection before. He still wasn’t sure why he’d been included in today’s costume meeting, but at least they’d told him to go surfing while they waited for the designs to arrive. He probably shouldn’t have surfed for so long. He wanted to give his input and make this film the best it could be. Maybe then he’d get the recognition he wanted for his acting. “I’m sorry.”
And he was. Not only for having Megan carry his board. Someone who wore her heart on her sleeve would never stand a chance with Firebreather. Eva Redding wowed people with her talent, but also intimidated them with her take-no-prisoners personality. She went through interns like bubble gum. Rumor had it the last one, a young woman he’d met during a costume fitting, was let go on her fourth day.
“When did your internship start?” he asked.
“Monday.”
Three days ago. The clock was winding down for poor Megan.
Adam felt like a jerk for treating her the way he had. She must be under a lot of pressure. He hadn’t made a great impression, either. Having Eva see him holding Megan could make things worse for the intern.
He knew what it was like to work your way up from the bottom. It would be hard enough to succeed with Eva Redding as a boss. He didn’t want to do anything to screw up Megan’s internship. Best to back off so she didn’t get in trouble.
As Adam rinsed off in the villa’s outdoor shower, Megan stood by the stairs with his surfboard, something he apparently called the Fish. She hadn’t been sure what to do when they arrived at the house. She decided to wait for Adam, figuring it might be considered bad form to go up to the deck without him given he was “the star.”
The guy had some nerve.
She was surprised he hadn’t wanted her to walk four feet behind him, as if he were royalty. But Adam Noble was no Prince Charming. Not like Rob, who would never allow her to carry a shopping bag, let alone a surfboard. Well, if he surfed. Rob didn’t like the water. He was into mental challenges, not physical ones.
Still she couldn’t deny Adam’s attractiveness. His eyes shone brightly and he could carry a conversation, suggesting he wasn’t as stupid