Acting Witchy (Witch Hunters) (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Sean was brooding. He glared at the beautiful night view out his window. Mystique was driving him mad. Today they’d filmed a carefree frolicking beach scene to be used in a musical montage. For the first time, his emotions were getting in the way of his acting. Mystique had worn a skimpy white one piece swimsuit that was classy and sexy at once. Portraying a light and whimsical mood was difficult for him when he was so frustrated with her.

She’d played with him in the sand and water as though nothing was amiss. They’d danced together under the stars and she’d pretended as though the rigid bar of his cock wasn’t digging into her belly.

He admitted to himself that he was at a loss as to how to get through to her. He’d asked her to dinner and she’d turned him down. Aside from work, she wasn’t willing to spend any time with him. It was novel to have a woman spurn his affections.

His phone emitted a tone from his front pocket. He pulled it out and answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Go to sleep already. It’s almost two in the morning there,” Keith lamented from California.

He grinned. Only one year separated their births. Keith was the older sibling but in many ways, they were like twins. They shared a close connection. He could always tell when Keith was hurt or unhappy. Likewise, his brother could do the same for him. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Well your brooding is making me antsy.” Keith yawned. “Want to tell me about it so that I get some work done?”

He hesitated. “It’s Mystique.”

“Yeah?”

“I know she wants me, but she keeps telling me no.”

“What is it with you and this woman? Is this just about sex or do you want more?”

“More. Everything. I want it all.”

Keith paused. “Do you think she’s your one?”

“One what?”

“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. You were happy enough to skate by with just looks and charm and not actually do any studies.”

“Spare me the lecture.”

“Every witch has his one—his soul mate. Once you find her, you begin to have vivid dreams of her that she will share with you. There’s more but since you aren’t in the mood for a lecture…”

He was beginning to remember now. “Wouldn’t she have to be one of us?” He’d avoided his fellow witches for just that reason. He was happy being single. He enjoyed his freedom. Or at least he had before he’d developed this obsession for Mystique.

“Not necessarily,” Keith said stiffly.

“The bookstore owner that you’re scared to ask out, is she your one?”

“I am not scared. But yes, she’s my one.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

“She’s not one of us. It complicates matters. I didn’t call to discuss Imani. Did you tell her you’re interested in more than sex?”

“No,” Sean grudgingly admitted. He grimaced when he thought of how he’d given her the spare card key to his suite. “But she has to know that.” He’d asked her to dinner. If it had been simply about sex he wouldn’t have bothered asking her on dates. It was so clear to him that they were meant to be together. Why couldn’t she see it?

Keith emitted an exasperated sigh. “Then tell her to make sure that she does. If she still says no, then ask her why. Now go to bed. Your thinking is getting all muddled with mine and I can’t write.”

“Good to know this call was motivated by concern for me,” he muttered sarcastically.

“As always.”

****

They were on the cover of
Entertainment Weekly
together, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist whilst she leaned into him for support, her head resting on his shoulder.

Mystique recalled the day the reporters had been allowed onto the set. The rumors and buzz Sean had created before filming had people anxious to know what was going on behind the scenes. The movie wasn’t even complete and everyone was saying the film was going to be a blockbuster.

Interviews were not her forte. She always came off as nervous. And she hadn’t been at her best that day. She’d still been keyed up from the love scene where Sean had simulated performing oral sex on her. Sean had come to her aid during the interview, throwing a casual arm around her shoulders. Somehow she’d felt…protected. It was probably some sort of witchy projection but at the time she’d been grateful for it.

Mystique opened her copy with trembling fingers. Inside there were more photos of her in his arms, him feasting at her neck, her sitting on his lap, and him pressing her into
a
wall. In each photo, she faced the camera her eyes heavy lidded with desire. He was completely focused on her.

The
photographer
had been very specific about what type of body language he required of each of them. Jacques Flemish hadn’t known the ordeal he was putting her through. Sean couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again. His behavior was shameful. Between shots, he’d run his hands over her body and tell her how good she felt or how good she smelled. Mystique was mortified. Everyone thought they were a couple, placing her in an untenab
le position since she knew the magazine’s
writers would question her about their relationship and she once again meant to deny any romantic rumors about the two of them.

Mystique quickly skimmed the article and photo captions. She winced when she noted that they had actually talked to the photographer and his crew. As she’d feared, they mentioned their chemistry. She closed her eyes with a groan. They’d quoted one of them as saying that they thought the two of them were going to make love right there.

This is what she got for not causing a scene and slapping him outright! No, she had to be the good girl—the one directors called a joy to work with. Couldn’t they tell she was uncomfortable with the way he was treating her?

She never should have agreed to do the photo shoot. This was going to make her look like a first class liar. In the attached article, she denied any romantic feelings between the two of them. She’d been non-committal about the reasons for her changing roles in the film. She need not have bothered.
Sean told the unvarnished truth—
she had been given a larger part because of the onscreen chemistry between the two of them.

If they were trying to create a media sensation, they couldn’t have done a better job.

Mystique instinctively felt that that’s exactly what Sean was doing. He was a master at keeping the press begging for more. His comments were carefully worded to inform and yet titillate the reader with the unseen possibilities. Without uttering an untoward phrase, he somehow still gave the impression that they were shagging like crazy
—
or would be soon.

They
’d chosen the most risqué photo stills
from the movie also. All of them were of the two of them making love. She’d been asked too many times to count if they’d really made love before the camera. Once the film debuted, she knew she’d hear that one more than once or twice.

Mystique threw aside the magazine. She dug aspirin out of her purse and tossed two pills into her mouth before washing them down with water. She wasn’t getting enough sleep and the headache was a byproduct. If she wasn’t such a control freak, she would take a sleeping pill. She was determined to handle this on her own. The damn dreams with Sean were getting worse, more explicit. They felt so real. Seeing him every day was wreaking havoc on her. Now this magazine debacle.

And the worst part was that she was actually beginning to like him. She’d worked with actors in the past that had nice guy reputations in the public but were actually bastards to work with. Sean was nice to everyone. He knew most of the crew by name. He wasn’t pretentious. Whenever he was able, he was willing to help others. He was fun to work with. She liked his sense of humor.

She stripped down and climbed into the shower stall, shivering as the cool water cascaded down her spine. She shampooed and rinsed before reaching for her conditioner. She worked the sweet smelling product in from root to tip. Today they had filmed the last scripted love scene between her and Sean. After, Sean had asked her to dinner. She’d declined, but damn, it had been hard. His blue eyes had seemed to dim with disappointment and hurt.

Mystique bit her lip and tried to harden her heart to him. The man was a witch. They were inherently evil. She washed swiftly, wondering when she would grow accustomed to the cold showers. She rinsed the conditioner from her hair before stepping out of the shower.

She wrapped her hair in a towel and briskly dried her skin. Once dry, she removed the towel from her hair to apply leave in conditioner and light oil before blow drying it. Naked, she strolled into the bedroom and slipped into bed. She arranged her hair in a ribbon across the satin pillow case.

****

Mystique lay on her bed at her condo with a romance novel in hand. Sean strolled in with that sexy confident stride of his. She placed her book on the side table with a sigh. “I suppose you’re here to make love me?” She rose to her knees and whipped her negligee over her head. Under the white lace she was completely bare. Her voice was casual but her body throbbed in anticipation of his touch.

He groaned. “Not this time. Tonight, I’m going to take you to dinner.”

She frowned. “I told you, I’m not going to date you.” He crossed to her and tilted her face back to receive his kiss. It was soft and sweet. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly. When she opened them, she was dressed in a curve-hugging pink ribbon dress. Sean wore a smoke gray Christian Dior suit. He stood behind her, holding out her chair for her. Once she was seated, he brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.

She watched as he rounded the table and sat. Goblets filled with red wine graced the table. The lighting was dimmed to a romantic level. She looked around the dining room. Pink and white roses were used as a centerpiece. Candles flickered in wall sconces. “Where are we?”

“My home in Doheny Hills just off of Sunset Strip. I wanted to share a meal with you uninterrupted.”

“Is this a dream?”

“Yes and no. This is your dream. I decided to join you.” He grinned. “Good to know I’m not the only one having the erotic dreams.”

She drew in a sharp breath. His eyes glittered. This was no ordinary dream. Sean was really in her dream with her. He was using sorcery to do this. What did this mean? Was he going to admit his nature to her? Would he attempt to bewitch her? He’d soon find she was immune to his spells. “Sean, why are you doing this?”

“You wouldn’t come to me, so I came to you.”

She shook her head and her curls flowed softly over her shoulders. “I don’t understand. You don’t even know me.”

“I know quite a bit about you and I’d like to learn more. I’ve watched the way you treat other people. You’re friendly with everyone.” He paused. “With the exception of me. Why is that?”

“We’ve had this conversation.”

“Why can’t you just answer me?”

“This is my dream, which means I’m the creator. We follow my rules.”

His gaze on her was filled with admiration. “I’m fine with that. But wherever you go, I go. So I hope you’ll agree to stay?”

Resigning herself to his company, she picked up her goblet and drank. “What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken parmesan.” He removed the cloche from their plates.

It was one of her favorite dishes, but she didn’t say anything. She picked up her knife and fork. They ate in silence for a few minutes. She ignored his frequent glances her way. “So tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Where you were born? Do you have siblings? Have you ever been married?”

“I was born in Asheville. I still have relatives there.”

“Really? Do you plan to visit when we conclude filming?”

“Um, no. We’re not close.” She twirled her fork in the linguini. Eating in a dream was an unusual experience.

“Sorry to hear that. May I ask why?”

“Let’s say that my mother didn’t agree with my career choice.”

“Ah. Acting isn’t the most secure decision. My own parents were nothing but supportive. They knew it was what I wanted to do and that it made me happy. Course it helps that they’re both in the business. My dad’s a screenwriter and my mom is a casting director.”

Mystique didn’t say more. It wasn’t that her mother objected to acting any more than any other job. Meadow believed there was only one career into which Mystique had been born to perform.

“So…siblings?”

“None. I’ve heard you mention a brother.”

“Yeah. There’s only one. Can’t imagine growing up without him. We’re really close.”

“I do have a cousin who’s the same age as me. We were close before I moved away.” She bit her lip. She’d given up much to avoid a lifestyle that wasn’t right for her.

Sean’s hand covered hers in a comforting gestured. She allowed it for a brief moment before pulling away to take a sip from her wine glass. “Let’s see, you had one more question. No, I’ve never been married. You?”

“No. Never met the right woman before…”

She let his innuendo pass unanswered. “Dream eating,” she said, slicing into her chicken, “I hope it’s not fattening.”