Twisted Arrangement 4 (6 page)

He nodded, striding away, his long legs eating up the ground, cell already plastered to his ear. Emma watched him go, trying not to make it obvious that she was checking out the firm curve of his muscular ass. Really, knowing what he had under his clothes made it nearly impossible not to think about his fantastic body every time she looked at him.

She jerked her gaze away and turned to the blonde, who was still standing at her side. She gave the other woman a smile. “I’m sorry... What did you say your name was?”

“Sue.” She extended her hand to Emma, grinning. “But everyone calls me Soos.” In the English accent, the nickname sounded elegant and soft.

“Well, Soos, I apologize... for my husband.” She stumbled over the words. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to be short with you.”

The blonde shrugged. “Oh, I know how he is. I’ve worked with him before. I told Mr. Braidlaw he’d best call Mr. Owens on his cell, but Mr. Braidlaw can be a bit timid at times, especially with Mr. Owens. He’s a one, your man. Bit of a temper. But I don’t mind it.” She winked.

Emma coughed, not entirely sure she understood the implications of Sue’s words. She opened her mouth, unsure what was going to come out, when a high-pitched voice cut through the noise of the crew.

“Mrs. Owens!  Mrs. Owens!”

It took Emma a minute, and an odd look from Sue, for Emma to realize someone was calling her. She turned toward the far side of the set, where a petite brunette in thick glasses was waving an arm frantically, beckoning her over.

“Excuse me.” She inclined her head to Sue, who waved her off, and hurried over to the unknown woman.

It was clear from the headset, badge and clipboard that the young girl – she didn’t look a day over 19 – was either an intern or a PA. Her smile was wide and eager as Emma reached her.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here! They tried reaching Mr. Owens first, but he was in with Mr. Braidlaw and wasn’t to be disturbed and the poor man is just
sitting here
! I figured I’d better come find you, right away!”

Emma opened her mouth, closed it, cleared her throat. “Um. Who is sitting where?”

“Duh!” The girl smacked her forehead and rolled her eyes. “Stupid me! Ben Cummings! He’s at the gate and I guess the security guard is new and won’t let him in without confirmation or something and he tried to call Mr. Owens, but he’s in with Mr. Braidlaw, like I said, and so I thought, since he couldn’t reach you on the phone, I’d get you myself!”

It took another several seconds to untangle the rapid string of words. “Ben’s at the gate? By all means, tell the guard to let him in.” Emma wasn’t sure if it was Ben or the gate guard who had tried to get her on the phone, but she’d turned it off so the ringer wouldn’t interrupt the filming and had yet to turn it back on.

The intern actually bobbed a little curtsey. “Great! But, see, the thing is that I can’t tell the guard that, he has to hear it directly from you!”

“Oh, for... Can you just give me a ride over to the gate? I’ll bring Ben in myself.” Emma wiped her hand over her sweaty throat in exasperation. Having to deal with all the hassle that went into making a movie was starting to make her enjoy the glamor of them less.

“Sure thing, Mrs. Owens! I’ll take you right on over! I’m Heidi, by the way!” Heidi beamed, waving in the direction of her motorized cart.

Emma climbed inside. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

“Oh, my last name’s not MacDuff, it’s...”

But Emma’s thoughts had already shifted traitorously back to Josh, and why she cared whether or not he believed anything she said.

***

Josh found an empty seat in the craft services tent and sipped a cup of coffee. He’d only just managed to get free of Ian Braidlaw and the other finance minions. It had taken hours to iron out the snafu that had led to several of their filming permits getting paid for out of the wrong accounts.

He’d texted Emma to let her know he’d gotten hung up. She’d offered to help, and he’d almost taken her up on it. She was fiercely good at organization. But he’d needed a little space. Being around her for any length of time while they were playing their public parts was torture. Well, not really. In fact, it the opposite of torture. That was the disturbing part.

He enjoyed spending time with Emma, which annoyed him. Sure, he’d enjoyed spending time with her before. Before he’d known she was Madame Butterfly. Back when he’d thought she was a simple, uncomplicated, intelligent woman who could plan an elaborate and fantastical masquerade without losing any sleep, but who hid inside a protective shell. Now, he kept waiting for her to... he wasn’t sure. Show her true colors?

Any time he found himself relaxing around her, part of his brain would sound the alarm, remind him this was all an act, and then he’d find himself unable to do anything but wonder what parts were true and what were lies. He’d find himself staring at her, studying her from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out who the real Emma Ness was.

He was becoming paranoid. Case in point: his mother had called and left him a voice message, and though she’d not sounded any different than she usually did, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering her. Now he couldn’t stop checking his phone to see if she had called back.

When Maisie Ransler slid into the seat beside him with a wide grin, Josh welcomed the distraction.

“I guarantee if you’d taken an actual honeymoon, you’d be looking a heck of a lot more relaxed right about now.” She winked. Josh couldn’t help but chuckle. Just being around the warm-hearted redhead made him feel less tense. She had that way about her.

“Are you kidding? I’d be twice as exhausted.” The words left his mouth before he’d thought them through. Josh could have kicked himself. Not because he thought Maisie would mind. She laughed, slapping her knee.

No, it was the cavalcade of images that his own words had called to mind. Emma naked on a white sand beach somewhere tropical, the smooth honey of her skin glistening with oil and smelling of coconut. Emma rising out of the turquoise water, dark hair dripping water down her naked body. Emma curled against his side, grey eyes full of wonder as she watched the sun set in vivid color over the Mediterranean. Emma rising above him in bed, sunlight streaming through enormous windows and painting her body in gold.

Josh shut down that train of thought as quickly as he could. It wasn’t quickly enough. Blood pooled in his groin. He shifted, gritting his teeth.

“Exhausted, maybe, but not nearly as stressed.” Maisie bumped his shoulder playfully. “Seriously, Josh, you two should go away somewhere for awhile. Just the two of you. That’s just what you need.”

“Because we’re newlyweds?” He forced his mouth to keep smiling. He’d never really thought about all the razzing newly married couples got. But even people who didn’t know him that well were making joking comments about he and Emma ‘coming up for air’.

Real couples could probably laugh it off. They were, after all, actually having sex. Josh, on the other hand, desperately wished he could lock himself and his pseudo-bride in a room for a few weeks and not let her out.

Except, she’d made it clear she didn’t want him. Or, correction, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to want him, which amounted to the same thing in the end.

“Right, because you’re newlyweds.” Maisie winked. “You should take my advice. Take her away somewhere and don’t come back until you’re well and truly... um... married.” She popped up from her seat and patted his shoulder. “Better go find William before he forgets to eat.”

She strode away, her long braid swinging. Josh stared after her, trying to figure out what her remarks had meant. Did she suspect their ruse? But no, if she did, she would surely tell Ransler. That niggle of doubt was just further evidence of his paranoia.

“Pardon me, Mr. Owens?” A light touch on his arm drew his attention away from Maisie. He recognized the round-cheeked, dark-haired young woman immediately. Her blue eyes were much more striking in person than they had been in her headshot.

“Emilie, isn’t it?” He extended his hand. She took it, her fair skin turning slightly pink.

“Oui.” She smiled broadly, pumping his hand. Her accent was thick but charming. And a little surprising. He’d watched several of the clips Emma had sent him, and Emilie managed both a very good American and English accent. “I wanted to say thank you. Riki said you are the one who recommended me to her and I am very pleased with this role.”

He motioned to the seat next to him. “No thanks necessary. In fact, I just passed on your name. It was actually my wife who championed you.” His
wife
. Josh’s breath caught at the ease with which the words tumbled from his lips. He felt as if someone, perhaps petite Emilie, had sucker punched him in the solar plexus.

“Oh, Mrs. Owens? I did not know she was in the business too. Is she here? I would also like to thank her.”

Josh swallowed and took a deep breath. “Ahh, yes. She’s around here somewhere.”

He’d barely gotten the word ‘somewhere’ out when Emma’s husky laugh rang out, drifting down his spine like sparks. He had to reign in the urge to whip his head around to target the sound. He made himself turn slowly.

She strolled into the tent, her arm hooked through Ben’s. His best friend’s dark head was bent toward hers, Ben’s patented teasing smirk fixed in place. Emma was laughing and shaking her head, her cheeks pink.

Josh felt a sudden urge to punch Ben. And not in a playful sparring match like they’d had the other night in the gym. More in a ‘let’s see how well you smirk with my fist in your mouth’ kind of way. He shook himself. It was absurd to feel jealous.

For one thing, Emma wasn’t really his. This was all an act. And for another, he knew for a fact that Ben would never make a move on someone Josh was even remotely involved with. Even if the path was totally clear. Which of course it was, in this case. But Ben still wouldn’t do that to a friend.

Pushing away the twinge of jealousy that refused to fade, Josh wrapped his fingers lightly around Emilie’s upper arm and turned her toward his best friend and his ‘wife’.

“There she is. Let’s go say hello.”

The actress’s smile was bright as he steered her toward Emma and Ben. The two looked up at their approach. Ben’s hazel eyes glittered with mischief, which was typical for him. But as soon as Emma saw him, Josh watched a shutter fall over her crystal grey gaze. The expression on her face didn’t shift in the slightest, but she’d closed something off at his approach.

It made him unaccountably angry. And stupid.

“Ben, Emma, this is Emilie. Emilie, this is my wife Emma and my best friend Ben.” He skimmed his hand down Emilie’s spine. It was an innocent gesture really, just urging her forward. The touch wasn’t really at all inappropriate.

Yet the minute he did it he knew it was a bad move. Ben frowned at him. Emilie shivered, her wide blue eyes flying from his face to Emma’s, her full lips trembling.

Emma, however, didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. That was probably the worst. The smile on her face didn’t fade in the least. The grey of her eyes seemed a shade paler, almost silver, but that was all.

“Emilie! How nice to meet you. I’m a big fan.” Emma reached out and took the other woman’s hand between both of hers, squeezing gently.

While the two women moved a step or two away to talk, Ben slid to Josh’s side, dark brows lowered over his eyes like storm clouds. “What the hell, man? Since when do you hit on the talent?”

He supposed he could point out that he’d dated Lolly while she was working on one of his films, but that would hardly earn him any points. He opened his mouth to assure Ben he wasn’t actually coming on to the girl when Ben continued.

“And in front of your wife?” His best friend shook his head.

“She’s not really my wife, is she?” The only person close enough to possibly overhear was Emilie, and she was engrossed in conversation with Emma, speaking quickly in her lilting accent.