Spotlight On Desire. Anita Bunkley. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Anita Bunkley
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472020147
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would lean in and make an air-kiss just below her ear. That he would give her a firm hug of welcome, bringing his body in touch with hers. That he would make some flip remark that would shift their meeting from a discussion about P & P into a more personal zone. Clearly, she’d worried for no reason.

      “Hi. Glad you could make it,” she told Taye, letting go of his hand and waving him through the candle-lit foyer toward the den. She was struck once again by his fresh lemony scent and wondered if it came from the soap he used or his cologne. Either way, she knew she liked it very much.

      “Hey, I’m just glad you were able to squeeze me in. Hope meeting here at your house hasn’t inconvenienced you,” Taye remarked in a breezy manner.

      Jewel laughed as she escorted Taye over to the white leather sectional that faced open French doors leading onto the patio. The first streaks of an orange-red sunset shimmered in the pool’s dark water.

      “Great pool,” Taye remarked, walking over to the door to look out into the yard. “You a good swimmer?”

      When he turned to look back at her, Jewel opened her mouth, thought a minute and then ducked her head in embarrassment. “I have to confess…I’m not. But I do water aerobics in the pool with my trainer a few times a month. I play around in the shallow end, swim a few laps now and then, but I don’t dive off the board into the deep end. That’s where I draw the line.”

      Taye stuck a hand into the pocket of his navy slacks and tilted his head to one side, an inquisitive expression overtaking his features. “Really? I’m surprised you don’t swim. Why not?”

      “I dunno. I think my fear of diving started when I took swimming lessons back home in Texas. It was not a good experience.”

      “Too bad, but you do look like the swimming type,” Taye observed.

      “Oh? And what’s that?”

      “Clearly you’re in great shape and you don’t strike me as the type who goes in for lifting weights in the gym.”

      “You’re right. I don’t.”

      “Tennis, then, perhaps?” he probed.

      A hint of a smile teased the corners of her mouth as Jewel shook her head. “Not at all.”

      “Power walking, the treadmill?”

      “You got me. That’s what I like to do.”

      “Hmm, hmm. I thought so. You like to be toned, but not bulky. You like cardio, but prefer to do it alone. I’d guess you’re not much into competitive sports. Am I right?”

      “You’re very observant,” Jewel commented, actually appreciative of his remarks. “Do you always pay such close attention to the exercise regimes of your actors?”

      “I’m a director, remember? I watch actors all day. Size them up. Figure out what works for them.”

      When he scanned her with a slow shift of his eyes, Jewel escaped his pointed assessment by moving behind the bar on the other side of the room. “What can I get you to drink?” Jewel asked.

      “What do you suggest?” Taye responded, still standing by the door, resting one shoulder on the frame, watching her with measured eyes.

      Jewel raised a bottle with a colorful sunburst label on the front. “I can recommend this crisp chardonnay from the vineyard of a friend of mine who lives in the Russian River Valley.”

      “Sounds perfect. Want me to open it?”

      “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said, feeling his gaze on her hands as she worked the opener into the cork and poured the wine into two marquis cut crystal glasses. She was thankful that the marble-topped bar provided a barrier between them and support for her to steady herself.

      “Tell me more about your nonswimming life,” he continued in a playful tone. “You blame it on what again?” Taye approached, accepted the glass of wine and took a sip. “Very nice,” he murmured with a satisfied nod as he settled on a bar stool across from her.

      Jewel leaned over, both arms on the bar, chin up, thinking back. “I waited too late to start taking lessons,” she decided, picking up their conversation. “I was thirteen years old. Didn’t want to get my hair wet, didn’t want the boys in my class to see me in a swimsuit and didn’t want water up my nose. I did everything possible to stay out of the pool.”

      “That’s too bad. Ever think about taking lessons again?”

      “Absolutely not. I’m happy to sit by my pool and drink in the sun and watch others splash around.”

      “You prefer to play it safe, huh?”

      “Sometimes,” she tossed back. “Depends on what’s going on.”

      “You never know when you’ll find yourself in a dangerous situation. Where you’ll have to take a chance.”

      “But that doesn’t happen very often,” Jewel tossed back.

      A long beat while they locked eyes.

      Jewel walked from behind the bar. “I’m rarely blindsided by something that I know I can avoid,” she remarked, successfully disarming his banter. “Why don’t we eat before getting down to business?” she suggested, motioning for Taye to follow her into the dining room where they helped themselves to the seafood quesadillas and jicama salad that Carmie had prepared.

      Moving to the round glass-topped table near the patio door, they ate, drank wine and chatted about industry-related topics like the blockbuster opening of the latest Batman movie and how action films were raking in big bucks. This was the perfect opening for Jewel to tell Taye, “I enjoyed Terror Train 1, 2 and 3 very much.”

      He almost choked on a mouthful of salad. “You saw them?” he blurted, seeming genuinely surprised.

      Jewel let a slow, secret grin ease over her face, enjoying the shocked expression that overtook Taye’s features and glad she’d taken Carmie’s advice. “Yes, I rented them this morning and watched all afternoon, although I have to admit that I squeezed them in between phone calls back and forth with my insurance company and the Lexus car dealership.”

      “Oh? Something wrong with your car?”

      “Nothing serious. I had a minor fender bender on the way home yesterday.”

      “After lunch?”

      “Yea. My fault. Not paying attention. Guess I was distracted.”

      “By what?”

      “Nothing important,” she lied.

      “Were you hurt?”

      “No. No one was injured.”

      “That’s good.”

      “Right. So, I’ll take my car in to be fixed Monday. Insurance will cover it and that’s all there is to that.” She shrugged. “One of those stupid self-inflicted scratches.”

      A knowing grin. “Happens to all of us sooner or later. Need a ride to the studio Monday?”

      “No, the dealer will have a driver take me in and, hopefully, deliver my car back to me by the time I’m ready to leave.”

      “Good. Now…about my movies…you really enjoyed them? Truthfully?”

      “Yes, I did, but in the second film, how did you convince Marilu Gale to squeeze into that child-size bed with Danny Lowe for their love scene? It was so cramped in that sleeping car! Must have been a claustrophobic situation for everyone involved.”

      Taye laughed, agreeing. “It was. As I remember, there was nothing romantic about that scene. Blazing one-hundred-degree heat in the desert, trapped inside a stripped-down train for nine hours, with too many people and too many complaints. Whew! That was not a memorable shoot.”

      “If the public only knew what you directors put your actors