Star Attraction (10 page)

Zaira decided that if he didn't
figure it out on his own, that she would wait until he had moved in, and the
play was over, then confess all.
 
If the worst came to the worst, at least she would have a damned good
Hamlet
, Brad would have a fine
screenplay, and maybe he would be prepared to forgive her for her caution in
dealing with a complete stranger who had come into her life as fast as a
blazing meteor, and who might prove equally destructive if he proved
untrustworthy.
 

Early Saturday morning, Zaira walked
down to the supply shop in Soho to buy her theatrical make-up and hair
dye.
 
She still felt guilty about
deceiving Brad, but their relationship as man and woman was too delicate, and
their work as colleagues too recently established for her to risk losing
him.
 
She opted for several spray
cans of black hair dye, and also found a pair of clear glass spectacles very
like her own.
 
She smiled, and was
delighted at the prospect of not having to wear her ordinary glasses to
university any longer.
 
They made her
nose ache, and she didn’t see very well out of them anyway.
 
She could wear her regular lenses all
the time and her violet ones as Zoe.
 

Zaira rushed home and put on a new
pair of black palazzo pants she had bought in a sale, with a jewelled
cummerbund, and pulled out her best blouse, a rather fluffy confection with
very full sleeves.
 
She went in the
bathroom, and sprayed her hair over.
 
It was rather time consuming, but the effect was fairly realistic, and a
lot more airy and free-flowing than the coarse theatrical wig she had been
making do with up until now.

She let the hair dye dry while she
put in her lenses, and then ran her hands through to check that the powder
spray wouldn’t come off easily. She prayed it wouldn’t rain, but a quick look
out the window reassured her.
 
She
applied her make-up quickly, enhancing the violet eyes and her rather fine
cheekbones.
 

Then she surveyed herself in the
full length mirror, and laughed delightedly.
 
She certainly looked the part of Zoe Dominick, successful author,
actress, and director.
  
The
 
cummerbund cinched in
her billowy blouse to emphasize her slender waist and full bosom, and her legs
looked long and elegant.
 
The black
and white outfit made Zaira wonder if she should keep her hair dark
permanently, she thought it was so striking.
 

As an after thought, she found an
old pair of antique pearl earrings, the only jewellery Zaira had kept when she
had been forced to sell all her things.
 
She knew they were reasonably valuable, but it was the sentiment attached
to them which had made her keep them.
  
Her mother had given them to her, and knew they had
belonged to her great-grandmother.
 
The Victorian gold filigree setting was a bit old fashioned, but Zaira
didn’t care.
 
They suited the
outfit perfectly, and she looked like a wild gypsy.
 
She put on her only pair of high heeled black shoes, and
raced out the door to the theatre.
 

When she arrived, Brad was already
waiting outside for her, and by the look in his eyes, she knew he was drawn to
her.

“What’s wrong?
 
Has my make-up smudged or something,”
she said, putting her hand up to her face.
 

“Not at all, it’s just your
hair.
 
It’s so wavy, and layered,
not like you’ve worn it the other days.”

“I had a bit of a trim, and it
depends on how I dry it,” Zaira lied smoothly.
 
“But of course, you can tell me whatever way you’d like
it.
 
After all, you’re the
boss.
 
Unless you’ve decided that
I’m not suitable as the Dark Lady.
 
I mean, you might have some other woman in mind,” she said, as she
unlocked the door and they stepped into the darkness.

“No one else will do for the
part,” Brad said gruffly.

Before Zaira could switch on the
lights, she felt herself being pulled into his strong embrace.
 
Brad’s mouth swooped down to cover
hers, and her senses reeled at the shock of it all.
 
She had dressed to entice him, she knew, but that he could
be so forceful both delighted and frightened her.
 

She surprised herself by starting
to kiss him back.
 
Zaira was just
about to put her arms around his body for support when suddenly he pulled away.

Brad swore under his breath, and
took several steps away from her.
 
She turned on the lights, and saw him standing with his shoulders
hunched and his arms crossed against his broad chest.
 
He cleared his throat a few times, and Zaira waited
patiently to see what she had done to offend him.

“I’m sorry, Zoe, I don’t know that
came over me.
 
I didn’t mean to do
that, it just happened.”

“I see.
 
Sorry to have disappointed you then,” Zaira said waspishly,
and began to storm down the aisle towards the stage.

Brad took two long strides and
pulled her round to face him. She could feel his warm breath on her cheeks, he
was so close.
 
She looked up into
his eyes, hoping he would kiss her again.
 
He did, but this time it was gentle, exploring, searching with his
tongue, and he nuzzled her cheek with his before stepping away.

“God, you're so tempting, so
fiery, I just couldn’t help myself.
 
But I have to.
 
Don’t you
see?
 
We have been thrown together
by business, by this play, but you’re a glamorous novelist, and you must have
dozens of men lining up for you.”

Zaira felt like laughing at his
feeling he couldn't compete for her attentions, but she could see he was
completely serious.

“Look, I'm not the kind of man who
has flings, whatever they say about me in the press. So while I'm really
attracted to you, that’s all it would have to be. I think, well, I'm pretty
sure I'm in love with someone else. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt for
anything in the world.
 
You deserve
better than that,” Brad said with a sigh.

Zaira felt as though she had been
punched in the stomach.
 
All this
time he had spent with her, and now she had discovered he was already in a
relationship?
 
Then why was he
wasting so much time with Zaira Darcy?
 
She had been right all along.
 
It was just a game for him, nothing more. He was jus another player, and
she had been played.
 
Thank God she
hadn't trusted him…

“Zoe, look at me, and tell me your
not angry.
 
I’m a very confused
man, but we have to do this play, and do it well.
 
I don’t want you resenting me because of this.
 
I'm trying to be as honest as I can
be.
 
Please tell me you forgive
me,” he pleaded, taking her hand.

Zaira let out her breath, and
smiled through her pain. “Brad, don’t be silly, there's nothing to
forgive.
 
You've been honest, and
that’s more than a lot of other guys would have the guts to do.
 
Forget about that kiss. Chalk it up to
an ice-breaker so we're not so stiff with sexual tension once we get on stage,
okay?"

He looked doubtful, so she
swallowed and tried again. With a sisterly pat on his shoulder she said in her
brightest tone, "Come on, the others are here, and we don’t want to start
any gossip or make them feel awkward, now do we.”
 

She breezed the rest of the way
down the aisle, and threw herself into her directorial duties as though they
were the only thing in the world on her mind.
  
Fortunately, she didn't have to do much. The rehearsal
went smoothly, and she watched herself appraisingly as she put on the performance
of her life, determined no one would ever guess how crushed and bruised she
felt at Brad's rejection of her.

As she worked, wondered over and
over again who he could possibly be in love with.
 
Someone he had left behind in California, no doubt. Someone
beautiful and glamorous, and the right kind of person for the life he lived out
in Hollywood.
  
All of this
was just one minor diversion to him, the dilettante playing at teaching and
acting until his real life beckoned him once more.
  
Brad was just occupying his time in New York with a
frumpy academic who posed no threat to his relationship, and a novelist he was
sweet-talking just so he could get the rights to her book.
   

Well, she’d see if she couldn’t do
something about that.
 
Zaira Darcy
was not one to give in easily, in work or in love.
 
She might not be part of his Hollywood world, but she was
determined to leave a lasting impression on him, one he would never, ever
forget.
 

For the last hour of the
rehearsal, Zaira and a few of the other cast members watched in admiration as
Brad and Adam, the young man playing Laertes, practiced their sword-fighting
scene.
 
Brad moved with an easy
grace, and the sword was like an extension of his arm, as he parried and
thrust, and the coach shouted encouragement or criticism.
 

The men made admiring remarks, and
the girl playing the part of Queen Gertrude made several lewd comments which
grated on Zaira’s nerves.
 
She
realized she was furiously jealous, and didn’t care, so great was her longing
for this incredible man.

Zaira watched in fascination as
the muscles in his thighs rippled under his black trousers, which outlined his
manliness unmistakably and filled her with an incredible longing to see if the
reality matched her imagination.
 
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was because the
musky male scent of him thrilled her to the very fibre of her being.
 
She saw him lean over her and smile
boyishly.
 

“How was it?”

“Wonderful,” Zaira managed say as
she smiled back at him glowingly.
 
“It will be super on the night.
 
Have you done fencing before?”

“A bit in my university days, but
my main sport was football.”

“You haven’t forgotten how, that’s
for sure.
 
Well done!
 
You must be thirsty, so if you don’t
mind, let’s go for that drink.”

Zaira saw Brad hesitate as he
wiped his face with a towel and then looked at his watch.
 
“All right, but I’m moving today, so
we’ll make it a quick run through of a couple of points, and have a more formal
meeting next week, if that’s all right?"

After Zaira had locked up the
theatre, they went down to the university bar at the bottom of the student
centre, which was very quiet on Saturdays.
 
Brad ordered beer for himself, and Zaira suggested they
share a pitcher, and a plate of nachos.
 
As they crunched their way through the corn chips smothered in cheese,
Zaira outlined the work she had done in her role a consultant.
 

“I’m beginning to wonder if we
really need to go to England and do all the on-location stuff.
 
I mean, it will certainly up the cost,
and the point is that maybe we should make it more like a stage play, with
intimate staging and lighting, rather than lots of indoor and outdoor shots.”

“What did you have in mind, then?”
Brad asked as he chewed a nacho slowly.

“Well, a sort of theatre in the
round.
 
The theatres are pretty
empty these days, and we could take one over for a fraction of what it would
cost to film at Stratford or any stately homes in England.
 
With realistic set designs, which we
can reconstruct from photos of New Place and other houses associated with
Shakespeare, we could have all the action on one or two sets, and concentrate
on the human relationships, instead of a huge Hollywood biopic which will cost
a fortune,” Zaira suggested.

“Well, I won’t say money is no
object, but I take your point, and I think it’s a great idea.
 
If we get everything completely
accurate, with you and Zaira working on the minute details, once we find the
right place to film, we can get all the things bought or made, and get
started.
 
Very good work, Zoe. I
knew you’d come up with something." Brad smiled, and as Zaira stared at
his breathtaking handsomeness, she was completely swept away by his
intelligence, his charm, and his kindness.
 
Whoever he was in love with, she was determined she was
going to regret ever having toyed with her and let her go.