The Talk of Hollywood (18 page)

Even if she did feel tempted by the suggestion. More than tempted!

To spend time alone with Jaxon away from here, to make love with him again, would be—

Both heaven and hell when she knew full well that at the end of those few days he would return to his life and she to hers!

Stazy feigned irritation. ‘Why do you persist in referring back to that night, Jaxon, when you’ve no doubt filed it away it your own head under “satisfactory, but could do better”?’

His eyes narrowed to glittering slits of silver. ‘Are you talking about my performance or your own?’

Oh, her own—definitely. Twenty-nine years old, with two—no—three lovers now to her name. Two of which had definitely been less than satisfactory, and the third—Jaxon himself—who had shown her a sensuality within herself she had never dreamt existed. A sensuality that she knew she would drown in if she spent any time alone in Jaxon’s company.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Jaxon. If anyone ever asks I’ll assure them you performed beautifully!’ she told him scornfully.

His nostrils flared. ‘Stop twisting my words, damn it—’

‘What do you want from me, Jaxon?’ She gazed across at him exasperatedly. ‘Yes, we spent a single night together, but we certainly don’t have to compound the mistake by repeating it.’

He became very still. ‘That’s how you think of it—as a mistake?’

Her brows rose. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I have no idea what the hell that night—and that
morning!—was all about,’ he rasped impatiently. ‘But no doubt you do …?’ he prompted hardly.

Stazy shrugged. ‘The result of a healthy man and woman having shared the same bed for the night. I’m sure I’m not the first woman you’ve spent the night with, Jaxon, nor will I be the last!’

He gave a humourless laugh. ‘You really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?’

She very much doubted that Jaxon wanted to know what she really thought of him. That he was not only the most heartbreakingly gorgeous man she had ever met—as well as the sexiest!—but also one of the kindest and gentlest. It had been that kindness and gentleness that had prompted him to spend the night in her bed so that she wouldn’t be alone with her fears for her grandfather. The same kindness and gentleness that she now had every reason to believe would ensure he wrote Anastasia’s story with the sensitivity with which it should be written.

‘It’s probably best if you don’t answer that, if it’s taking you this long to think of something polite to say,’ Jaxon bit out impatiently, and he crossed forcefully to the door.

‘Jaxon—!’

‘Yes?’ He was frowning darkly as he turned.

Stazy stared at him, not knowing what to say. Not knowing why she had called out to him—except she couldn’t bear the thought of the two of them parting in this strained way. Couldn’t bear the thought of the two of them parting at all! ‘I never thanked you,’ she finally murmured inadequately.

‘For what?’

‘For—for being there for me when I—when I needed you to be.’ She gave a pained frown.

Jaxon stared across at her, having no idea what he should do or say next. Or if he should do or say anything when Stazy had made it so absolutely clear she wanted nothing more to do with him on a personal level.

He had thought of her, of the night the two of them spent together, far too often these past five days. And of what had happened between them the following morning. The woman Stazy had been that morning, the warm and sensual woman who had set fire to his self-control, had been nowhere in evidence in the days since. But Jaxon knew she was still in there somewhere. She had to be. That was why he had suggested the two of them go away together for a couple of days—away from Bromley House and the restraints her grandfather’s presence had put on them. A suggestion Stazy had not only turned down, but in such a way she had succeeded in insulting him again into the bargain.

He straightened. ‘Forget about it. I would have done the same for anyone.’

‘Yes, you would.’ She gave a tight, acknowledging smile.

Jaxon nodded abruptly. ‘Your grandfather has my mobile and home telephone numbers if you should need to contact me.’

She frowned. ‘Why would I ever need to do that …?’

No reason that Jaxon could think of! Nevertheless, it would have been nice to think there was the possibility of unexpectedly hearing the sound of Stazy’s voice one day on the other end of the telephone.

This had to be the longest goodbye on record!

Probably because he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Stazy yet—still felt as if there was unfinished business between the two of them. A feeling she obviously didn’t share.

Jaxon forced himself to relax the tension from his shoulders. ‘No reason whatsoever,’ he answered self-derisively. ‘I’ll go up and get my things now, and leave you to go and pack.’

‘Yes.’ The painful squeezing of Stazy’s heart was threatening to overwhelm her. Not yet. Please, God, don’t let her break down yet!

‘I’ll look forward to reading the screenplay.’

He raised mocking brows. ‘Will you?’

‘Yes,’ she confirmed huskily.

He nodded briskly. ‘‘Bye.’

Stazy had to literally drag the breath into her lungs in order to be able to answer him. ‘‘Bye.’

Jaxon gave her one last, lingering glance before opening the door and letting himself out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Stazy listened to the sound of his heavy boots crossing the hallway and going up the stairs before allowing the hot tears to cascade unchecked down her cheeks as she began to sob as if her heart was breaking.

Which it was.

Three months later
.

‘I
HAD
lunch with Jaxon today.’

Stazy was so startled by her grandfather’s sudden announcement at a table in his favourite restaurant in London that the knife she had been using to eat the grilled sole she had ordered for her main course slipped unnoticed from her numbed fingers and fell noisily onto the tiled floor. Even then Stazy was only barely aware of a waiter rushing over to present her with a clean knife before he picked up the used one and left again.

Not only was Jaxon in London, but her grandfather had seen him earlier today.

After three months of thinking about Jaxon constantly—often dreaming about him too—it was incredible to learn that he was actually in London.

She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I had no idea he was even in England.’

‘He arrived yesterday,’ her grandfather replied. He was now fully recovered from the gunshot wound and back to his normal robust self.

That was more than could be said for Stazy!

Oh, it had been a positive three months as far as her work was concerned. The dig in Iraq had been very
successful. And when she’d returned to the university campus last month she had officially been offered the job as Head of Department when the present head retired next year. She hadn’t given her answer yet but, having worked towards this very thing for the past eleven years, there seemed little doubt that she would accept the position.

No, on a professional level things couldn’t have been better. It was on a personal level that Stazy knew she wasn’t doing so well.

A part of her had hoped that time and distance would help to lessen the intensity of the feelings—the love—she felt for Jaxon, but instead the opposite had happened. Not a day, an hour went by, it seemed, when she didn’t think of him at least once, wondering how he was, what he was doing. Which beautiful actress he was involved with now.

Since returning from Iraq she had even found herself buying and avidly looking through those glossy magazines that featured gossip about the rich and the famous.

If she had hoped to see any photographs of Jaxon then she might as well have saved herself the money—and the heartache!—because she hadn’t succeeded in finding a single picture of him during the whole of that time. With a woman or otherwise.

The last thing she had been expecting, when her grandfather had invited her out to dinner with him this evening, was for him to calmly announce that Jaxon was in England at this very minute. Or at least Stazy presumed he was still here.

‘Does he intend staying long?’ she prompted lightly, aware that her hand was shaking slightly as she lifted her glass and took a much-needed sip of her white wine.

‘He didn’t say,’ Geoffrey answered dismissively.

‘Oh.’ There were so many things Stazy wanted to ask—such as, how did Jaxon look? What had the two men talked about? Had Jaxon asked about her …? And yet she felt so tied up in knots inside just at the thought of Jaxon being in London at all that she couldn’t ask any of them.

Although quite what her grandfather would have made of that interest if she had, after her previous attitude to Jaxon, was anybody’s guess!

‘He’s finished writing the screenplay.’

Stazy’s gaze sharpened. ‘And …?’

Her grandfather smiled ruefully. ‘And I recommend that you read it for yourself.’

She slowly licked the wine from her lips as she carefully placed her glass back down on the table. ‘He gave you a copy …?’

‘He gave me two copies. One for me and one for you.’ Geoffrey reached down and lifted the briefcase he had carried into the restaurant with him earlier.

That second copy, meant for her, told Stazy more than anything else could have done that Jaxon had no intention of seeking her out while he was in England. And after the way the two of them had parted how could she have expected anything else!

Her grandfather opened the two locks on his briefcase before taking out the thickly bound bundle of the screenplay and handing it across the table to her. ‘Read the front cover first, Stazy,’ he advised huskily as she continued to stare at it, as if it were a bomb about to go off in his hand, rather than taking it from him.

Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed hard. ‘Have you had a chance to read it yet?’

Geoffrey smiled. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘And?’

‘As I said, you need to read it for yourself.’

‘If you liked it then I’m sure I will too,’ she insisted firmly.

‘Exactly how long do you intend to go on like this, Stazy?’ her grandfather prompted impatiently as he placed the bound screenplay down on the tabletop, so that he could lock his briefcase before placing it back on the floor beside him.

Her hair moved silkily over her shoulders as she gave a shake of her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean …’

His steely-blue gaze became shrewdly piercing. ‘Don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘You have shadows under your eyes from not sleeping properly, you’ve lost weight you couldn’t afford to lose—?’

‘I think I picked up a bug in Iraq—’

‘And I think you caught the bug before you even went to Iraq—and its name is Jaxon!’

Stazy’s breath caught sharply in her throat at the baldness of her grandfather’s statement, the colour draining from her cheeks. ‘You’re mistaken—’

‘No, Stazy, you’re the one that’s making a mistake—by attempting to lie to someone who’s had to lie as often as I have over the years,’ he assured her impatiently.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. There was a pained frown between her eyes. She knew from her grandfather’s determined expression that he wasn’t about to let her continue prevaricating. ‘Is how I feel about Jaxon that obvious?’

‘Only to me, darling.’ He placed a hand gently over one of hers. ‘And that’s only because I know you so well and love you so much.’

She gave a shaky smile. ‘It’s probably as well that someone does!’

‘Maybe Jaxon—’

‘Let’s not even go there,’ she cut in firmly, her back tensing.

‘I have no idea how long he’ll be in England, but he did say he would be in London for several more days yet, so perhaps—’

‘Gramps, I’m the last person Jaxon would want to see while he’s here,’ she assured him dully.

‘You can’t possibly know that—’

‘Oh, but I can.’ Stazy gave a self-derisive shake of her head. ‘If you thought I was rude to him at our initial meeting then you should have seen me during those first few days we were alone together at Bromley House!’ She sighed heavily. ‘Believe me, Gramps, we parted in such a way as to ensure that Jaxon will never want to see me again!’ Stiltedly. Distantly. Like strangers.

‘Are you absolutely sure about that …?’

‘Yes, of course I’m sure.’ Her voice sharpened at her grandfather’s persistence. Wasn’t it enough for her to suffer the torment of knowing Jaxon was in England at all without having to explain all the reasons why he wouldn’t want to see her while he was here? ‘Feeling the way I do, I’m not sure it would be a good idea for me to see him again, either,’ she said emotionally.

Her grandfather sat back in his chair. ‘That’s a pity …’

Her eyes had misted over with unshed tears. ‘I don’t see why.’

‘Because when I saw him earlier today I invited him to join us this evening for dessert and coffee.’ Geoffrey glanced across the restaurant. ‘And it would appear he has arrived just in time to take up my invitation …’
Jaxon was totally unaware of the attention of the other diners in the restaurant as they recognised him. He walked slowly towards the table near the window where he could see Stazy sitting having dinner with her grandfather.

Even with her back towards him, Jaxon had spotted her the moment he had entered the crowded room; that gorgeous red-gold hair was like a vivid flame against the black dress she wore as it flowed loosely over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back!

‘Stazy,’ he greeted her huskily as she looked up at him warily from beneath lowered lashes.

Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed before answering him abruptly. ‘Jaxon.’

Close to her like this, Jaxon could see that her face was even thinner than it had been three months ago—as if she had lost more weight. The looseness of the cream dress about her breasts and waist seemed to confirm that impression. ‘I appreciate it’s the done thing, when you meet up with someone again after a long absence, to say how well the other person is looking—but in your case, Stazy, I would be lying!’ He almost growled in his disapproval of the fragility of her appearance. ‘And I know how much you hate lies …’