Honey Moon (22 page)

was sunburned.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, his eyes skimming from her hair to her flat, bare midriff. "You shouldn't be in public looking like that."

Liz hadn't left Honey's side. "Leave her alone, Ross. And stop being such a worrywart. There's nothing

in the world —not even her real age—that would make audiences stop loving her. Besides, she's here to have fun."

They greeted several more people, and then Liz steered her out onto the deck and toward a young man standing alone by one of the umbrella tables. He had light-brown hair cut short, square, blunt features, and an athlete's trim build.

Sunglasses dangled from a short cord around his neck, and a gold watch glimmered at his wrist. Despite the rumpled and faded purple polo shirt that accompanied his swim trunks, the easy assurance of his stance made Honey suspect he came from money. As Liz led her relentlessly forward, she felt herself begin to panic. She didn't know anything about men like this.

"No, Liz. I—"

"Darling, I want you to meet Scott Carlton. Scott, would you make certain Honey gets something to eat and drink?"

"My pleasure."

Honey gazed up into a pair of warm brown eyes that were regarding her with obvious admiration. Some of her tension eased.

"What are you drinking?" he asked, as Liz left them alone.

She started to request an Orange Crush, but stopped herself just in time.

"Whatever you're having. I'm not particular."

"Coors it is." He went over to an ice chest and pulled out a can of beer.

Returning to her side, he popped the top and handed it over to her. She took a nervous sip.

"I must be the only person in America who hasn't watched your show. I've been taking classes in the evenings for my M.B.A. I've seen photos of you, of course, in magazines." His eyes dropped momentarily to the little swell of cleavage rising from the cups of her bikini and he smiled. "You look lots different in person."

"The camera puts on weight," she said inanely. Where was Dash? Why hadn't he shown up? She hoped he wouldn't bring a date. Watching him with other women bothered her.

"Not something you need to worry about. So how long have you been in L.A.?"

She told him. He asked her a few questions about her work, and then began to tell her about his job with a well-known market research firm. She realized to her amazement that he was trying to impress her. Imagine somebody like him trying to impress somebody like her. Gradually she became aware of the fact that several of the young men were giving her sidelong glances, and her self-confidence took a baby step forward.

"If you don't mind a personal question, how old are you, Honey?"

She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and see if Ross was nearby.

"Nineteen. Twenty in December."

"Really. I'm surprised. You look older. Even though you're small, there's something about your eyes.

A maturity."

She decided that she definitely liked Scott Carlton.

He was joking with her about one of his coworkers when Dash came out on the deck and her heart gave a crazy jolt. All the men around him faded like old photographs. He was taller than most of them, but it was more than his physical stature that made the others seem diminished. He was a legend, while they were merely mortals.

A young woman approached him, and Honey realized it was Lilly Isabella, Liz's next-door neighbor. She had met her once last fall when she had visited Liz. Lilly was tall and beautiful, with full breasts and slim hips. Her silver-blond hair swept back from her face like liquid silk, displaying a finely chiseled classical profile.

The sight of Lilly sapped some of Honey's confidence. She was so sexy and sophisticated, obviously born to money and privilege. She wore a light blue raw-silk top tucked into a pair of darker blue slacks that set off her long legs. A silver slave bracelet encircled her upper arm and a matching belt cinched her waist.

As Dash smiled at her, jealousy nipped at Honey. He never looked like that when he talked to her.

"Do you know Lilly?" Scott asked, following the direction of her eyes.

"Not really. We've met, but that's all. Why? Do you know her?"

"We dated for a while. But Lilly's complicated. It's hard for an ordinary guy to compete with her father. Besides, she doesn't stay with any guy for long if he's not an actor."

Honey waited, but he didn't elaborate. She watched as Dash tilted his head attentively, treating Lilly as a mature, desirable woman, even though she wasn't all that much older than Honey. Her resentment grew, and she decided it was time she showed him that Lilly Isabella wasn't the only desirable woman around. She gazed up at Scott through her lashes. "If Lilly walked away from someone as attractive as you, then she's definitely not as smart as she looks."

He grinned. "You want to go down to the beach?"

She glanced toward Dash and saw that he still hadn't noticed her. "I'd love to."

They had to pass Dash and Lilly to reach the steps. As she and Scott drew close, Dash spotted her for

the first time. To Honey's delight, Scott slipped his arm around her waist. A flicker of surprised crossed Dash's features, but she couldn't tell whether it was from the change in her appearance or Scott's familiarity.

"Hi, Dash." She greeted him as if she had just noticed him, then introduced Scott and spoke to Lilly.

"Honey! I didn't recognize you. You look terrific." Lilly gave her a friendly smile and exchanged a few pleasantries with Scott.

Dash's eyes surveyed Honey's bare midriff, then locked on to her breasts. He was obviously displeased, and his scowl deepened as he spotted the beer can she still held in her hand. "Since when did you start drinking?"

"Since absolutely forever," she replied in her best Liz Castleberry imitation.

"Honey and I were just going for a walk on the beach," Scott said, taking her elbow. "We'll talk to you later."

She fancied she could feel Dash's eyes boring into her back as she walked away. The idea pleased her, and she added a defiant swing to her hips.

* * *

Eric regretted accepting the invitation to Liz's party before he'd stubbed out his first cigarette. He had been filming a movie since hiatus had begun, and this was his first day off in weeks. He should have

spent it in bed. Rubbing the stubble on his jaw, he looked for a corner where he could hide out undisturbed. He'd have a drink and then slip away.

As he walked across the deck, a young woman in a red sundress shot him an admiring glance. He wondered why. He was unshaved and disreputable looking, in keeping with his role as a renegade cop on the run from the kingpin of a drug ring. The movie role was a far cry from Blake Chadwick, and exactly what Eric needed to flush the saccharin of
The
Dash Coogan Show
from his veins.

Even though he had two years left on his contract, he'd decided he had to get out now. He didn't care how much it cost or what his lawyers had to do. From now on he was concentrating on his film career and putting television behind him.

He spotted Coogan on the other side of the deck and turned his back to look out at the ocean. He avoided his costar as much as possible, maybe because he had the uneasy sense that Dash saw right through him. Being with Dash Coogan always made him feel inferior, the same way he used to feel with his own father. Eric didn't like to think about how much he wanted Dash's respect.

Every time Dash called him "pretty boy," Eric felt sick.

Sunlight sparkled the tips of the waves and he thought about going for a swim, but it was too much trouble. A couple stood talking on the beach in front of him. He dismissed the man but his eyes lingered for a moment over the woman.

Squinting against the glare from the sand, he saw that she was tiny but well proportioned, with small round breasts and good legs. From a distance, she looked a bit too fragile to appeal to him, but she was still tempting. Maybe he'd take a closer look when she came up on the deck. He didn't bother to consider what he would do if she weren't interested in him. That never happened.

The man reached out and touched her arm. She tossed her curls and her earrings sparked in the sun. Turning her head, she laughed.

With a shock he realized it was Honey. What had happened to the tomboy with the cropped hair and perpetual scowl? Occasionally last season, she had shown up in lipstick and a skirt. But she hadn't

looked like this.

She stretched out her arm and made a sweeping gesture toward the water. The wind whipped her skirt, revealing the V of her thighs. His gaze settled there, and then he was disgusted with himself because his instinctive response seemed vaguely incestuous. No matter how much she might have changed, Honey still reminded him of Jase.

"Haven't I seen your face on a post-office wall somewhere?"

A woman's voice, rich and musical, came from behind him. He turned toward her and forgot all about Honey.

"An innocent man wrongly accused," he said.

She took a sip of wine from her glass and regarded him with a pair of widely spaced light gray eyes. A long lock of silvery hair blew across her face. She hooked it with her little finger and pushed it away.

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Why don't I believe that?"

"It's the truth. I swear."

"I can't imagine anyone describing you as innocent."

He feigned hurt. "I'm a choirboy. Really."

She laughed.

He held out his hand. "Eric Dillon."

She gave it a lazy glance. "I know."

And then she walked away.

He stared after her, intrigued as much by her aplomb as by her beauty. She walked over to a group of men and was quickly surrounded. He heard her musical laughter. The crowd parted and he saw one of the men offering her a shrimp speared on a toothpick. She took it from him, brushed it over her lips before she tasted it, then nibbled it slowly, as if she were savoring each bite.

Liz Castleberry came up behind him. "I wondered how long it would take you and Lilly to find each other."

"Is that her name?"

Liz nodded. "She's Guy Isabella's daughter."

"That turkey?" Eric gave a snort of disgust. Guy Isabella was a movie star, not an actor.

"Don't let Lilly hear you say that. She thinks he's perfect. Not even the fact that he's a lush tarnishes the halo she's put on him."

But Eric wasn't interested in Lilly Isabella's father. As he watched her with the men, he lit a cigarette.

She definitely intrigued him. Maybe it was because she didn't look like the type of woman who could be easily hurt.

Not even by him.

* * *

"I don't believe you." Honey laughed. "Nobody could break his arm three times in one summer."

"I did."

As dusk fell, Scott showed no signs of losing interest in her, and her self-confidence had grown by leaps and bounds. Now she found herself extending her leg ever so slightly through the slit in her skirt and hanging onto Scott's words as if each one were shaped from precious metal. Once she'd gotten the hang of it, flirting hadn't proved to be difficult at all. In a queer way it made her feel strong, although it was a

different kind of strength from what she experienced when she cussed at somebody. Flirting gave her another sort of power, one she didn't fully understand but that she was definitely enjoying. She hoped Dash was watching.

"I can't imagine someone as athletic as you ever being awkward." Her voice held just the right degree of admiration.

"You should have seen me when I was fourteen."

He pitched his beer can over her shoulder toward the trash container that sat in the sand behind her. It bounced off the rim. This was their second trip to the beach. After their earlier walk, they had eaten and chatted with some of the other guests. She had spotted Eric, looking gorgeous and unsavory with a week's worth of stubble on his chin, but her old fascination with him had been murdered that day under the oak tree.

Dash, however, was definitely distracting her. Every time she looked at him he had a woman hanging on his arm. In retaliation, she concentrated on Scott.

Lovely Scott, who licked her with his eyes and treated her as if she were every inch a mature, desirable woman.

"I'll bet you were cute when you were fourteen," she said as they waded at the edge of the water.

"Not half as cute as you are right now."

Incredibly, she felt her mouth forming a coquettish pout. "You make me sound like a puppy dog."

"Believe me, you don't look anything like a puppy dog."

She had only a few seconds to enjoy his compliment before he slipped his arms around her body and drew her against him. Her bare midriff brushed against the soft knit fabric of his shirt. He lifted his hand and cupped the back of her neck.

Then he lowered his head and kissed her.

His kiss wasn't anything like those lying kisses Eric had once given her. This one was real. He opened his mouth to encompass hers. A wave swirled around her calves, unbalancing her enough so that she leaned into him. He held her more tightly, and warmth spread through her body.

"God, you're really something," he whispered against her open lips. "I want to make love to you."

"You do?" She suppressed the urge to look toward the deck and see if Dash was watching.

"Can't you feel how hard I am?"

He pressed his hips against her stomach. A delicious heat spread through her, along with a new sense of power. She had done that to him.

One of his hands slipped down from the small of her back to cup her bottom.

He gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're terrific. Has anybody ever told you that?"

"Everybody." She gazed up at him. "Has anybody ever told you that you're a wonderful kisser?"

"You're not so bad yourself."

She smiled and he kissed her again. This time his lips parted and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She received the intimacy with curiosity and decided kissing was definitely something she wanted to learn more about. An image of who she wanted her teacher to be flashed through her mind so quickly that she couldn't grab hold of it.