What it Takes (7 page)

He stayed her with his hand on her wrist. “I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “That wasn’t very nice of me.”

As she sat back down, she marveled at how the heat from his hand radiated through her body. “No,” she murmured, “it wasn’t.”

He removed his hand and leaned away.

“But I guess I deserved it.” She pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Patrick argued. “Just because you’ve been standoffish and silent whenever I’m around doesn’t mean I can be rude to you.”

“Wow, you’re full of it tonight.” She lifted an eyebrow as he shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, let’s clarify things, shall we? I think you have a horrible reputation with women and I have no interest in contributing to that.” He opened his mouth but she ignored it. “I find your behavior repulsive and the last thing I want is to give you, or anyone around you, ideas about us. There will be no us, is that understood?”

His jaw clenched and he nodded.

“Good.” She stretched her legs and began to stand. “Since we’re clear, I’m sure you don’t feel the need to continue this conversation, so I’ll go back to my room.”

“Wait just a second.” He grabbed her arm. “I don’t know if I should find your assumptions funny, or be insulted by them.” He yanked her closer and onto the floor beside him. She landed with a small “oomph” and he bit back an apology. “I’ve never been disrespectful, I’ve never been rude. But you seem to take every one of my actions as an attempt to seduce you. You either think too little of me or too much of yourself.” Her emerald eyes were huge; he’d either taken her by surprise or hurt her feelings. Probably both. He released her arm and she sat frozen, staring at him, pouting her full, kissable lips. “I don’t get it, Kelsey.” He laid his head against the cabinet door, trying unsuccessfully to clear his mind of his suddenly impure thoughts. “You seem like such a nice person. You laugh and joke and smile at everyone else and completely ignore me. All because you don’t like something you
think
I do?”

She opened her mouth then closed it again. Her head tilted to the side and she studied him silently for what felt like an eternity. “You’re right,” she practically whispered. He turned his head toward her, shocked by her quiet confession. “Is that a first for you?” Her soft voice was doing nothing to change the direction of his thoughts. It was actually making them worse. She’d probably hate that.

He closed his eyes and considered her question. His whole career, he’d done whatever he pleased, and the only person who had ever expressed her displeasure with his “reputation” had been his mother. Most actresses used it to their advantage. None had ever balked at the idea. And no one had ever,
ever
given him the cold shoulder.

When he opened his eyes again, he found hers still fixed on him. “Actually, yes,” he muttered, unable to hide the petulance as he nodded. The corner of her mouth twitched but she looked down before it could completely turn up. “Do you find that funny?” He ducked his head to try to see if she would laugh when she answered. She shook her head but wouldn’t look up. “So you’re just humoring me again then?”

“I don’t humor you.” She raised her head, amusement still played on her features. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Yes, we’ve established that,” he said flatly. She finally beamed at him, the look he’d been waiting for, and it was glorious. It lit her face and took his breath. She was beautiful. How had he not noticed this before? He had to drag his thoughts back to the conversation. “Is that really all you think I want? Indulgence and pleasure?”

“Isn’t it?” Her grin faded and he was sorry to see it go.

“You should do that more often,” he blurted out and she tilted her head. “You have a beautiful smile. I wish I got to see more of it.”

Kelsey nodded and glanced at the door. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Her clear desire to leave was a punch in the gut. “You either find my company extremely revolting or you have a hot date. Which is it?”

She lifted her chin, her eyes focused defiantly on him.

“Tit for tat, love. You answer mine, I’ll answer yours.” He folded his arms across his chest and held her rebellious glare.

She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I don’t know why you care.”

“So, the only thing I’m supposed to care about is getting into your pants, and since you refuse to have anything to do with me, I can’t be your friend?” he questioned resentfully. There was the slightest nod of her head and a knot formed in his stomach. “Now I am offended.”

“Good,” she murmured so softly he almost missed it.

He frowned and she immediately regretted her words. What was wrong with her? There was something about Patrick that seemed to bring out her worst behavior. He sat up taller and pulled away from her as he turned his attention to the living room.

He nodded once. “No, I’m not only after indulgence and pleasure. I’m actually sitting here, taking your abuse, because I want to get to know you. If you’d rather leave, please feel free. You know where the door is.”

Her mind scrambled to come up with an apology. But apologizing might only encourage his attentions. She didn’t want to do that.

Or did she?

It was ridiculous that he caused her so much confusion. She brought her knees back up to her chest and laid her cheek on them, looking away from him. With Tim, she’d always been the kind of woman who put her needs on the back burner. She’d done everything to please him. She’d treated him like a minor god. Looking back on that behavior now made her gnash her teeth.

When she and Tim had broken up, she’d decided that she would never be that kind of woman again. She’d never bend over backward to make a man happy. She would be her own person and if someone didn’t like that, then too bad. She’d become very comfortable in her own skin in the past six years. For the last four weeks, she’d watched everyone give Patrick Lyons everything he asked for; she especially noticed the female crew members bending over backward to make him happy. It disgusted her to watch it but she knew how easy it was to slip into that behavior. Every now and then, she caught herself wanting to do just that as well.

But, Grayson was right, this was not who she was. This was not how she behaved. She barely recognized herself when she was around Patrick. She knew there was a happy medium between being nice and allowing people to walk all over her. She’d survived in Hollywood in that gray area. Her behavior around Patrick was not in that gray area. She wasn’t even sure where it fit on the color scale, but she didn’t like the person she became whenever she was around him.

She waited for him to leave her and return to the living room, but he silently remained by her side. The steady rhythm of his breathing was oddly soothing. She turned to find his attention still focused on the back of Grayson’s head.

“You’re not revolting,” she whispered.

“That’s good to know.” He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look at her. “My ego was about to take a hit.”

She was suddenly bothered by his inattention. “And I don’t date,” she added.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” His eyes shifted to his feet.

“Don’t be.” She took a sip of her now too warm, too sweet margarita. “I’m not.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly before he took a sip of his water. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, fascinated by the movement. “I’m sure some man is to blame for that.”

She froze.

Her mouth was suddenly dry and she swallowed a couple of times, hoping to loosen her words as she moistened her mouth. Suddenly, discussing Patrick’s faults didn’t seem like the worst conversation in the world.

It would be better than talking about Tim.

“Ah,” he sighed. “I was teasing, but I guess I hit closer to home than I meant to.”

She tried to look away but he gently grabbed her chin. Her face tingled where his fingers rested but, for once, she didn’t fight the contact.

“I’m sorry.” He brought his nose closer to hers. “I’m not trying to pry.” He dropped his hand from her face as he continued to hold her with his eyes. She wanted to swim in their depths. “I just want you to know that we men are not all alike and I think that whoever he is and whatever he did, he’s an idiot for letting you go.”

She tilted her head, caught off guard by what sounded like a compliment. “Are you flirting with me?” she whispered, attempting to chastise him but failing miserably.

“Maybe.” The corners of his mouth stretched across his face as he drew nearer to her. “Are you enjoying it?”

“No more than usual.” She glanced at his lips and was almost overcome with the desire to feel them on hers. What had gotten into her? In the past few weeks, she’d worked so hard not to give in to the temptation that was Patrick Lyons, and now she felt almost willing to throw all of it away for just one kiss.

“What’re you doing in here?” Grayson whispered as he peeked over Kelsey’s shoulder.

She gasped and quickly pulled back. Her shoulder hit Grayson in the stomach, producing a grunt from him. She gave him an innocent smile and he raised an eyebrow.

“Why aren’t you watching my movie?”

“It was making me queasy,” Kelsey confessed as Grayson rose from his knees and offered her his hand.

“You’re kidding, right?” Grayson chuckled as she stood, then glanced at Patrick and quickly stopped.

“Why’s that so funny?” Patrick asked as Grayson regained his composure. Kelsey slowly turned to Patrick. He dodged her glance as he left the room and Kelsey followed him with her eyes. When he was seated on the couch again she looked at Grayson.

“Excuses, excuses,” he whispered.

“I really
was
feeling sick,” Kelsey argued, offended that he would think otherwise.

He smirked. “The movie ended ten minutes ago. You guys were awfully quiet.”

Kelsey’s cheeks warmed as her thoughts returned to Patrick’s mouth. She stepped away from Grayson’s probing surveillance and put her drink in the sink.

With a laugh, Grayson walked back to his seat. “Hey, Red, could you please make some more popcorn?” he asked as he sat down, still shaking with silent laughter and flashing Kelsey a childlike grin.

Kelsey stood in the large, white tent, chewing on her bottom lip as she waited for the morning meeting with their director. Grayson stood several feet away but was surprisingly quiet, which was probably better for Kelsey. Her thoughts were riveted on her conversation with Patrick the night before.

She’d made her stance clear, so she doubted that he would make any more of a move than he already had. And his flirtation really hadn’t been that bad; it hadn’t made her terribly uncomfortable. Still, she’d tossed and turned all night, going over every word, every action, every aspect of every interaction they’d had since filming had started. Her Jekyll and Hyde behavior had been unfair and, in all honesty, exhausting. Patrick probably thought she was mentally unstable.

Sometimes she felt mentally unstable.

But now that she’d cleared the air, Kelsey could relax. Be herself. The weight on her shoulders was already lighter.

Kelsey looked up as Patrick and their director, Andy Davidson, entered the tent. Patrick handed her a cup of coffee and she lifted her eyes, round with confusion, to his face. He’d never brought her coffee; she usually waited until after the meeting for that.

“Mocha latte with skim,” Patrick said.

Kelsey’s chin dropped.

“That’s not what she likes,” Grayson snorted.

“I’m pretty sure it is,” Patrick countered and took a sip of his own coffee, acting like this was a routine interaction for them.

“No, Kelsey likes the caramel macchiato,” Grayson argued. Kelsey studied the coffee in her hand for a second, then turned to him and shook her head.

“No, I like the caramel macchiato,” Veronica stated as she entered the tent.

Grayson’s dumbfounded expression slowly turned mischievous. “Isn’t that interesting?” he whispered as he walked past Kelsey to his seat.

“Great, we’ve established coffee preferences. Now let’s talk about work, shall we?” Andy said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

Kelsey glanced at her coffee, then at Patrick, and mouthed a “thank you.” He gave her a small smile and nodded.

As Andy went over the schedule for the day and the rest of the week, Kelsey congratulated herself on the civil interaction she’d had with Patrick. Granted, she hadn’t really had to say anything, but surely it was a step in the right direction. She cast a quick look at Patrick. He was engrossed in the meeting and his own gaze bounced between Andy and the script in his lap. She tried to do the same, but as Andy began to break things down to an hourly basis, there was a high-pitched squeal just outside the tent.

Kelsey looked in the direction of the sound and her heart twisted. Patrick’s dance partners from the bar were headed in their direction. She stole a glance at Patrick and saw that his eyes were closed and his jaw clenched, then looked at Andy, whose face and balding head had turned beet red.

“Ladies, this is a closed set, you have to leave. Now!”

Andy brushed past Patrick and made a beeline for the girls, who were again being led by the perky brunette who Kelsey remembered not so fondly. Patrick rose and followed at a slower pace, his shoulders squared, head held high. Three guards were already headed toward the group.