Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set (64 page)

BOOK: Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set
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‘I didn’t say that, exactly.’

He pulled the sweater over his head and turned towards her. ‘Then what did you say, exactly?’ he asked in an empty voice.

His eyes had gone flat, and a coldness suddenly gripped Shannon’s spine. She looked at Claire, but her agent was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, gazing upward with a vacant expression. Where are you when I need you, Claire? she thought desperately.

‘All I meant was that performing isn’t the same as acting. People think it is, but...’

‘That’s what I told Crawford.’

‘Did you?’ she said eagerly. ‘Well, then...’

‘He told me to let him be the judge of that.’ Cade  smiled politely. ‘Don’t you think that’s good advice, Miss Padgett?’

‘My agent said...’ She looked across the room again. Claire had said she’d go back and try to talk Jerry out of this if she thought it was for the best. But that wasn’t what she’d intended to do at all, Shannon suddenly realized, staring at her agent’s bemused expression.

How could she have been so naive? Claire had just said whatever had to be said to soothe her.

The truth was that the agent had brought her here so she could see first-hand what Jerry Crawford had seen. And, dammit, even if there was nothing to see, she’d pretend there was.

Everybody bowed and scraped, Shannon thought bitterly, even the people you thought were your friends.

This man standing before her, this man who made her tense with anger, was going to replace Tony. She knew that as surely as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow.

Without warning, the afternoon’s disastrous love scene flashed into her mind. If she hadn’t been able to play it with Tony, how in hell would she manage it with Cade Morgan?

She turned away quickly and reached for the door. ‘Then there's nothing for us to discuss, Mr. Morgan. Thank you for the tickets. It's been an interesting evening.'

Cade grasped her wrist as her fingers closed around the doorknob. ‘Interesting? Even unfavorable critics come up with better words than that to describe my con
certs.’

‘Someone actually said something unfavorable about the great Cade Morgan?’ she said softly, raising her eyes to his. ‘I’m shocked.’

His hand curled more tightly around her wrist. She could feel the heat of his touch burning through her jacket, through her silk blouse to the naked flesh beneath.

‘What’s your problem, lady?’ Can’t you get through five minutes without insulting me?’

‘I was simply being honest,’ she said, looking down at his hand on hers. Suddenly, all she wanted was to escape the stifling confines of the small room. Morgan’s presence seemed overwhelming.

‘Were you?'

‘It doesn't matter. I’m not really in a position to judge your music or your performance.’

He drew closer. ‘We’re not talking about that, Padgett, are we? You just don’t like me.’

‘That has nothing to do with it,’ Shannon said quickly.

A tight smile spread across his mouth, leaving his eyes untouched and cold.

‘It has everything to do with it.’ He drew her towards him, his eyes riveted to hers.

He was going to kiss her again. She could read it in his dark eyes, in the sultry ex
pression on his mouth. This time, she’d slap his face. This time, she’d tell him she didn’t like cavemen…

But a honeyed weakness was spreading through her, fuelled by the soft, licking flame that was his hand on her wrist.

‘Let go of me,’ she said, thinking the words as a command, saying them as a plea.

His eyes searched hers for the span of a heartbeat and then he took a deep breath. Carefully, as if he were letting go of something that might turn on him, his hand re
leased hers and he stepped back,

‘Look,’ he said gruffly, running his hand through his dark hair, ‘maybe we got off to a bad start. I didn’t mean to insult you this afternoon. I wish you’d just forget all about that kiss.’

Of course, Shannon thought grimly. His  apology, if that’s what it was, was all the proof she needed. The decision to hire Cade Morgan had already been made. And the man wasn’t a fool; he knew it would be a lot better to have her on his side than not.

Well, he could forget that. She’d deliver when she had to—when the lights and the camera were on—and he could be damned when they weren’t.

‘I’ve already forgotten it,’ she said evenly, as she pulled open the door. ‘As I told you earlier, there wasn’t that much to remember.’

She turned her back on him and stepped out into the hall. Cade followed her, and suddenly Claire moved toward them both.

‘Hey,’ she said with artificial good cheer, ‘let’s take it easy, kids.’

Cade watched Shannon walk away. Then he swung toward Claire.

‘Miss Holden.’ His voice was ice. ‘Tell your client I’m going to take that part. Tell her she’s going to have lots to remember by the time I’m finished with her.’

Claire nodded and closed the door quietly behind her. Shannon was almost running down the corridor, her high heels tapping an angry tattoo against the floor.

Cade Morgan and Shannon Padgett, playing lovers.

It was going to be like touching a lighted match to a fuse. Dangerous, volatile—but with breathtaking results.

And the explosion would make Shannon  a star.

CHAPTER FOUR

The door
to the Theatre Arts Workshop squealed as Shannon eased it open. Why didn’t somebody fix the stupid thing? she thought as she slipped into the dimly lit, overheated classroom. Did it always have to sound like an over-the-hill soprano struggling for a high C?

The actor and actress reading lines in the glare of the lights at the front of the room were caught in their roles, thank heavens. They didn’t so much as glance in her direction—but the two people seated nearest the door turned towards her and frowned.

She mouthed an apology, slid along the back wall until she reached an empty seat, and slipped into it. The wooden chair creaked noisily—why not? she thought, fighting against an overwhelming desire to kick it into silence—and a woman nearby  glared at the intrusion.

So much for unobtrusive en
trances.

Maybe she should have waited in the corridor until break, but she’d missed so many classes lately that she was afraid to miss another.

Not that her teacher had complained; Eli encouraged his students to take any part they could get, even if it interfered with class time.

The Theatre Arts Workshop had been difficult to get into. She’d had to wait two years after her audition before she’d been admitted. But she knew she’d benefited from the harsh criticism that was part of the curriculum, and was a better actress for it.

Carefully, she opened the catch on her shoulder-bag. The snap of the clasp sounded like a crack of lightning in the silent room. Shannon froze, expecting another furious stare, then breathed a sigh of relief when none came. Her workshop script was in her bag somewhere, tucked behind the script Jerry had thrust into her hands as she’d raced out the door a half-hour before.

‘1 have tomorrow’s script,’ she’d said impatiently. ‘Jerry, forgive me for running, but...’

‘The script I just gave you is changed—and your agent called. She’ll be along in just a few minutes.’

‘Thanks for the message, but I can’t wait.’

‘There are some things in that script that I’d like to go over with you, Shannon.’

‘Tomorrow, Jerry. OK? I’ll get in early,’ she’d pleaded. She had missed her last workshop class; that, and wanting Eli to help her with what she and Tony laugh
ingly called the infamous bedroom scene, had given her the courage to turn the director down. Jerry had given her a funny look and she’d wondered if she’d over-stepped her bounds. Then he’d shrugged and waved her away.

‘Yeah, sure,’ he’d said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

There was a sudden murmur in the small classroom. Shannon blinked and looked up from her shoulder-bag.

‘Thank you,’ Eli was saying in a non-committal voice. ‘Next pair, please.’

Another actress settled on the high stool and smoothed down her skirt with hands that trembled. Eli nodded to her and she launched into her opening speech.

Not bad, Shannon thought. Her voice betrayed her ner
vousness, but she had the feel of the part. But the guy playing opposite her was awful.

The class shifted restlessly, a sure sign that they would show him no pity  when they criticized the hour’s performances.

This was the most demanding of audiences. Playing to these impassive faces was enough to make even the toughest soul want to turn tail and run. Once in a great, great while, if everything went well, you could wrench a stir of emotion from the class. It hadn’t happened to Shannon yet, but she was sure that when it did—if it did—she’d treasure the moment. Well, she thought, at least she no longer felt intimidated when she read in front of them.

Terrified, yes, but not intimidated.

The actor’s  voice cracked and a murmur ran through the room. The poor soul was blowing his lines. Eli uncoiled his thin figure from the wall he’d been leaning on and cleared his throat.

‘This is a pivotal scene, young man. It’s one of the only chances we have to glimpse the real man inside the mask he’s created.  Try it again, please, and with feeling this time. Remember—the writing is spare and you’ve got to provide the emotion.’

The scene started again and Shannon’s thoughts drifted. Funny that Eli should say something like that. Jerry Crawford had made virtually the same speech to her only a couple of hours ago. They’d been taping tomorrow’s show and her dialogue had consisted of three lines with a grand total of fifteen words. It had hardly seemed worthwhile to bother rehearsing something so simple. Jerry had sensed her dissatisfaction or maybe her boredom, she wasn’t sure which, but midway through the fourth take he’d smiled at her.

‘Just think of the scene as a skeletal structure, Shannon,’ he’d said. ‘I’m counting on you to flesh it out.’

She didn’t think it was true—you could have cut her dialogue from the scene without losing a thing—but it had made her feel better, although she’d wondered almost immediately why he should care how she felt. Claire swore she had a suspicious mind, but it seemed to her that Jerry had been awfully nice to her over the past few days.

Maybe he was making up to her for that unpleasant incident with Cade Morgan.

At least all that nonsense about co-starring them had bitten the dust. She had no idea why—it was nice to think it was because she’d objected—but she wasn’t that naive. After all, she was just an unknown actress; Jerry Crawford and the producers could replace her in the time it took a viewer to tune into a competing game show. No matter how good a case Claire might have pleaded in her behalf, they were interested in ratings and how much detergent and toothpaste the viewers were buying, and they would do what had to be done to achieve both those goals.

No, Cade Morgan must have backed out.

Maybe his demands were too outrageous. Maybe he’d chickened out at the thought of pretending he could act in front of fifty million fans. Whatever, things had gone back to normal on the set. She and Tony hadn’t rehearsed the infamous bedroom scene again, but she was sure they’d be running through it tomorrow. After all, they’d be taping it next week. And it didn’t really require any complex acting technique. Maybe Eli could help her find some motivation for her character’s behavior.

The door to the classroom squeaked open. Somebody was even later than she had been.

‘Excuse me.’

The latecomer was standing over her. Out of the comer of her eye, Shannon saw him motion at the chair on which she’d placed her shoulder-bag. She nodded, took the bag from the chair and put it on the floor beside her.

‘Thanks.’


Shhh,’ she whispered.

‘Right. Sorry.’

The chair creaked as he settled into it and she frowned. It was bad enough to come in so late; the least he could do was try to keep noise to a minimum. She gave him a sidelong glance, watching as he opened his copy of the play the class was reading—
A Streetcar Named Desire
—and  began rustling through the pages of the first act. She thought of telling him they were reading from the second, but before she had the chance, he leaned towards her.

‘Uh—could you tell me what page they’re on? I can’t seem to find it.’

‘Page forty-four,’ she muttered. ‘And could you please be a little quieter? I’m trying to...”

Her sentence ended before it had begun, the words drifting into the air as aimlessly as smoke in a summer breeze. That voice, she thought, while her heart thumped into overdrive, that distinctive voice...No, no, it couldn’t be. It was impossible.

Shannon took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Easy, she told herself, easy. Lots of men have husky voices. She raised her lashes slowly, glancing down and to the side. Motorcycle boots, she thought, as mounting panic fluttered inside her chest, dusty black motorcycle boots. Her glance moved slowly up the length of blue-denimed leg beside her. Please, she thought, please...

He turned towards her and she choked back a moan.

‘What are you doing here?’

Cade Morgan shrugged his shoulders. ‘I might ask you the same question.’

‘Don’t play cute with me!’ she whispered frantically. ‘I asked you a question. What are you doing here?’

He crossed one boot-clad ankle over the other. ‘What does it look like?’

‘You... you can’t just walk in here and sit down. This is a classroom.’

‘Really?’ He looked around and then nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s what it is, all right.’

‘Mr. Morgan, please...’

‘Cade,’ he said, leaning towards her.

‘Mr. Morgan, my teacher will be furious at me.’


Cade,’ he repeated. ‘Shall I spell that for you, Shannon? Capital C...’

She took a deep breath. Don’t antagonize him, she thought desperately. Don’t even try to understand why he’s doing this to you. Just get rid of him before somebody realizes what’s happening.

‘OK, OK. Look, my teacher. . .’

‘Cade,’ he repeated. ‘It’s an easy name. Just one syllable.’

She ducked her head and bit her lip as a woman in front of them stirred. ‘All right, Cade,’ she said swiftly. ‘Look, my teacher doesn’t let us bring visitors to class.’

‘No problem,’ Cade said easily. ‘I’ll just tell him I’m not here with you.’

‘Will you stop being such an ass?’ she whispered in fury. ‘You can’t do this!.’

The woman seated ahead clucked her tongue in an
noyance and swiveled around to face them.

‘For God’s sake,’ she said through tight lips, ‘isn’t it enough you both came in late? Must you keep inter
rupting things?’

Shannon’s face whitened. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘This wasn’t my idea.’

‘You should be sorry. You know better. As for you,’ she added, turning her angry glare on Cade, ‘you shouldn’t even be here. You...’ A sudden spark of recognition lit the woman’s face.  ‘Aren’t you—aren’t you…’ She blinked. ‘Cade Morgan?’

‘No,’ Shannon babbled, ‘he isn’t.’ Cade glanced at her and chuckled softly. ‘I mean... I mean he was just leaving….’

The woman touched him lightly on the arm. ‘You are Cade Morgan, aren’t you?’

‘What? Cade  Morgan? Where?’ The man beside her almost scrambled out of his seat as he turned towards Cade. A smile stretched across his face. ‘Jeez, it is!’ he said. ‘I saw you
in L.A. last year, Mr. Morgan. Great  performance.’

An embarrassed half-smile flickered across Cade’s face. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered to Shannon.  ‘I didn’t mean to cause a problem.’

But he had, she thought grimly.

People were turning around,  peering towards the back of the room, murmuring  among themselves. The couple at the front of the classroom glanced up from their scripts and then looked at each other questioningly.

Eli’s voice was cold as it cut across the increasingly loud whispers that seemed to fill the classroom.

‘That’s enough,’ he said, and the actors playing Stanley and Blanche were silent. ‘What’s going on here?’

Shannon bowed her head.


How could you do this?’

Cade leaned towards her, his voice quick and urgent. ‘It isn’t what you think. I’m here because...’

‘I’ll never live this down, never. This will be worse than what happened at the studio. Why are you doing this?’

‘I’m not doing anything,’ he said, putting his hand on her arm. ‘I’m trying to tell you. I...’

She flung his hand from her as if it were an insect. Her script fell to the floor unnoticed.

‘Eli,’ she said breathlessly, scrambling to her feet as the figure of her teacher loomed over them, ‘I apologize for the disturbance. I know we aren’t supposed to bring visitors to class. Believe me, Mr. Morgan barged in on his own— I certainly didn’t invite him—and then he wouldn’t leave. I’m sorry. I don’t know why he followed me here...’

The teacher was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then his gaze slid past her and fastened on Cade.

‘Mr. Morgan^’ he said with a smile, holding out his hand, ‘I’m delighted you were able to join us today. You’re quite a surprise to the class, as you can see. I’m afraid I neglected to warn them that you might be joining us. I thought I’d wait and see whether you’d show up today or tomorrow.’

Cade grinned as he stood up and shook Eli’s outstretched hand. ‘I probably should have called and let you know that I was coming, but I was afraid that if I did, you might tell me you’d changed your mind.’

Shannon’s face burned with humiliation. It was worse than she’d thought. He was there by invitation, as Eli’s guest.

‘I told you, Mr. Morgan...’

‘Cade, please. Mr. Morgan’s much too formal.’

Eli smiled. ‘Cade,  then. I told you the other day, I’m delighted to have you join the class. I’m sure you’ll be an interesting addition.’

No, Shannon thought desperately, no, no, no... She watched as Cade returned Eli’s smile with a polite smile of his own.

‘I’m grateful to you for taking me on,’ he said pleasantly. ‘And now I’d be obliged if everybody would just forget I’m here.’ The class laughed and Cade grinned. ‘Believe me, when you people see me act for the first time, you’ll wish I wasn’t,’ he said, and they laughed again.

The teacher smiled. ‘We’ve had several well-known people in our classes in the past. I promise, we’ll treat you the same as we treat everybody else once we get back to work. Which is exactly what we’d better do,’ he added briskly. ‘Cade, we’re working on
Streetcar.
I believe I mentioned that when we spoke the other day.’

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