“So what if it is?” She puckered her lips and stood straight and tall.
He ran his fingers through her hair, releasing the bun, and allowing her hair to spill down her shoulders. She gasped, peering into his eyes.
Luke ignored her question. His fingers weaved in and out through the loose curls that tumbled down her back. “I like your hair like this. It suits you.”
He kissed her one last time on the lips before pressing his lips to her exposed shoulder, sending shivers down her spine.
“Just so you know, I have no intention of backing down. I want you, Elle. And I know you want me too.”
She swallowed hard and licked her lips. She was terribly uncomfortable yet aroused by his words. She wanted him in her bed, desperately.
“Good,” she whispered, the corners of her mouth curling up in satisfaction.
He grinned at her response, before saying good night. Her body tingled as she drove back home, unable to escape thoughts of that kiss, of the way he’d teased her, of how he made her come apart. Their chemistry was no longer something she could deny. She only hoped she could maintain her professionalism despite her building need for Luke Kingston.
Elle awoke, yet again, with sweat dripping down her neck and an ache between her legs. For four straight nights, she’d dreamed of Luke—above her, beneath her, behind her. On the bed, the couch, against the wall—the fantasies made her yearn every single morning. She despised her alarm clock for pulling her from the encounters.
She wiped the sleep from her eyes, attempting to focus her vision as she shifted to a seated position. How long could she resist him? Of that, she was unsure. He was invading her psyche in more ways than she was comfortable. For work, it was having a more than positive effect on her productivity. Writing David was simple—scenes poured from her brain and out through her fingers as she typed. The sexual tension between David and Molly was screaming from the pages. Rob was delighted at episodes eight and nine. She’d delivered them just yesterday and he praised her up and down—predicting all sorts of grandeur for the upcoming season. Luke was proving to be quite the muse.
But when she wasn’t hard at work on another script, her mind was wandering and, like a smitten teenager, she’d been counting down the days until Luke would arrive for his appointment with Barb, the head costume designer. And today, it had finally arrived.
After a refreshing shower, Elle pondered the clothing in her closet. Her schedule for the morning was a table read with Nolan, Gina, and several members of the supporting cast, followed by lunch, and an afternoon of writing. Tomorrow, they would begin shooting the very first episode of the season. Her nerves were aflame with anticipation of both the official start of the season and her hopeful run-in with the possible leading man in her life.
She opted for a simple pencil skirt with a pale yellow chiffon blouse. Nothing extravagant or ostentatious, but classy, fun, and just a little bit sexy. Butterflies swarmed her abdomen as she groomed herself for the day ahead. She expected it would be quite a busy week¸ but she welcomed the excitement.
What Elle didn’t expect upon settling in at the sizable table in the conference room was the rising tension between her two leads. Typically, table reads were a relaxed experience for all involved. The actors had received their scripts the previous week and were given plenty of time to study their own lines. Then, the table read allowed them to work on delivery and ask for direction from both Elle and Rob.
The normally relaxed environment, however, was anything but. Tension hovered above the table and Elle struggled to decipher the source of the strain as her actors struggled through the scene. She knew it wasn’t the writing. This was the first episode of the season and had picked up immediately after the cliff-hanger of the season finale. No, it was the actors. Specifically Gina Romano.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Nolan delivered his line, his eyes sincere, his voice conveying the desperation Desmond was feeling.
Gina rolled her eyes as Nolan read the line and her response was wooden and stiff, without any of the emotion the script demanded. “I’ve been looking for you too.”
Elle couldn’t take it anymore. She had to interrupt the read. Gina’s unprofessional behavior was unacceptable.
“I’m sorry, is there a problem here?” She pushed her reading glasses down to the tip of her nose and glared at Gina.
Gina wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Nope, no problem here.”
“Maybe we should take a break,” Nolan suggested, clearing his throat and tapping his copy of the script on the table.
“Fine, whatever.” Gina dropped her attention to the floor, retrieving her phone from her purse.
Elle stared at the two, each refusing to look one another in the eye. She had to get to the bottom of this. Sure, Nolan would eventually be written out of the show, but they had twenty-three episodes to shoot before that would become a reality.
Elle stood and walked to the door. “Nolan, care to step outside for a minute?”
Nolan inhaled deeply, glaring at Gina before pushing his chair back. The bottoms squeaked against the linoleum floor. He huffed, ran his hand through his dark hair, and followed Elle into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
“What was that all about?”
“I don’t know.” He avoided her eyes just as Gina had at the table.
What the hell is going on?
“I can stand out here all day, so . . .”
“Fine, but . . . you can’t tell her I told you.”
Elle’s annoyance level was reaching a new high. “What are we, five? No, I make no promises. You two are messing with my show.”
Nolan’s shoulders slumped as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. He looked down at the floor.
“It’s no big deal.”
“Obviously.” Elle had quite the habit of handling conflict with sarcasm. She knew it made her seem tough as nails, and she didn’t care. She was irritated they’d managed to ruin the excitement she’d had flurrying in her belly all morning. Now, she was breaking up a fight between two adults who were acting like kindergarteners.
“She’s pissed off, that’s all.”
“About?”
“My leaving.” Elle continued to stare at Nolan, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He looked at her like she was a raving lunatic. “The show. She’s pissed I’m leaving the show.”
Elle crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Sorry, not buying it.”
Nolan’s eyes rose to meet Elle’s. The whites of his eyes became more prevalent as he widened them in disbelief.
“She read with Luke Kingston last week and she was fine. Whatever this is, it’s recent.”
“She found out . . . about me and—me and someone on staff.”
Whitney. Of course. They’d slept together, but . . . why would Gina care? Then it dawned on her.
“Wait . . . you and Gina? You’re . . . a couple? How in the world did I not know this?” Elle was shocked. She’d worked with the two for years and had always assumed their chemistry was simply that—on-screen chemistry. She never imagined they were actually involved when they were no longer delivering the lines of Molly and Desmond.
Nolan walked quickly from Elle, pacing the length of the hallway, his arms stretched out to rest behind his neck. “No one knows. It was . . . a casual thing. At least, I thought it was. I guess I was sorely mistaken.”