around you,’ Cal continued with a frown. ‘Why don’t you put him out of his misery and get rid of him?’
‘Because I don’t want to get rid of him,’ she told him tersely. ‘Jason and I are very close.’
‘Really?’ He gave her a very disdainful look.
‘Yes…really.’ She supposed she was exaggerating. Jason was just a friend. But she did value his friendship; it had helped keep her together after her divorce.
‘So how long has he been giving you these little kisses on the bottom, then?’ Cal drawled wryly. ‘Did it start on Broadway or as soon as I vacated the marital home?’
‘Don’t judge everyone by your own low standards,’ she told him heatedly.
‘Oh, come on, Kirsten! From what I’ve heard, the sheets had barely cooled on our bed before he was around knocking on your door.’
‘Jason came around to offer his moral support. He’s a wonderful person and I resent the distasteful implications in that statement.’
‘You’re certainly very protective of him. You must have it bad.’
‘Go to hell, Cal.’ She slammed the door shut.
It was only when the door closed that it suddenly dawned on Kirsten that Cal was fully dressed in his suit. They were supposed to be shooting a bedroom scene in a few minutes, so how come she was the only one dressed for bed? She glanced again at her watch. He should at least be wandering around in a dressing gown by now.
Maybe he was such a big star now that he didn’t care if he was late on set? Maybe he intended to keep them all waiting? She frowned; that didn’t sound like the Cal she remembered. Back in the days when they had been married, he had always had a thing about being punctual, and used to hate it if she was even a couple of minutes late for anything. Of course, he hadn’t been such a phenomenally big star back then—moderately successful…but nothing more. Maybe all this mega-stardom had gone to his head.
Well, if he thought she was going to stand around kicking her heels in this scanty costume he had another thought coming. Kirsten took her time and found a vase and water for her flowers, then sat for a while in the warmth of her dressing room.
She found herself thinking about Cal’s taunting gibe. ‘You pretend to grit your teeth and hate me and I’ll do what I was always good at and turn you on.’
In his dreams, she told herself staunchly. Then frowned. Well, maybe once upon a time he had very definitely been able to turn her on, she had to admit that if only to herself, but those days were long gone. When his lips touched hers now she would hate it.
She looked at her watch again and apprehensively she got to her feet. She supposed she had better not push her luck too far. She didn’t want the director tearing her off a strip on the first day of filming. Theodore was supposed to be a brilliant director, but he had an unfortunate reputation for losing his temper.
When she appeared on set she half expected them all to be waiting for her, but there was some kind of altercation going on at the other side of the studio between the electricians and Theodore and no one seemed to notice her amidst the chaos.
There were teams of people still moving furniture around on the set. Picking her way carefully across electric cables, she stood in the shadows for a moment and watched. It looked as if they weren’t going to start filming yet for at least another hour.
A spotlight was thrown on, and a huge double bed with a gothic wrought-iron headboard was illuminated in its bright glare.
‘The scene of the battlefield.’ Cal’s sardonic tone resounded suddenly in her ear, making her gaze swing away from the double bed in shock.
‘Crikey Cal! Don’t creep up on me like that,’ she said crossly. ‘You nearly made me jump out of my skin.’
‘Your nerves must be bad. What were you thinking about?’ He smiled. ‘Don’t tell me you were daydreaming about our romantic scene together? It will be just like the old days.’
‘A horror story, you mean?’ she muttered. ‘Why aren’t you ready to get into bed with me?’ she asked with a frown as she noticed he was still dressed in his suit.
‘Kirsty, I’m always ready to get into bed with you,’ he drawled sardonically.
‘You know what I mean, Cal.’ She shot him a warning look. ‘I’m here in costume, ready to shoot the scene; you look as if you’re still wearing your own clothes.’
‘No…the suit is courtesy of Wardrobe. This is not something I’d have chosen to wear.’
It looked suspiciously like one of his suits to her. ‘But shouldn’t you be…in a state of undress?’
Cal’s lips twitched. ‘I don’t think Theo is going to shoot the scene as it was first written.’
‘What’s he going to do?’ Kirsten asked in consternation as she remembered his gibes earlier about a sex scene.
Cal shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s the director.’
The possibility of a more intimate love scene being shot made her shiver violently. ‘But I’ve learnt all my lines; he can’t change things at this late time—’
‘Theodore is running the show, Kirsten, he can do pretty much anything he likes.’ Cal reached and straightened her dressing gown over her shoulder, bringing her attention to the fact that it had slipped.
The gentle touch of his hand against her bare arm made her shiver again. Suddenly she was very aware of how close he was standing to her, the gleam in his eye as he looked down at her. She started to feel breathless as she looked up at him. Nervously she moistened her lips as she felt his gaze linger on their softness. Her heart was pumping heavily against her chest.
She found herself remembering the way he used to kiss her, the heat of his lips and his hands against her body. She couldn’t get into bed and pretend to make love with him, she just couldn’t!
‘You’re not really nervous, are you, Kirsten?’ he asked her suddenly, his voice gentle.
‘No, of course not. Why would I be nervous?’ Her voice was higher than it should have been. Hell, this was making a mockery of all her stern words about how strong she was, how his kiss wouldn’t have any effect on her. He only had to brush his hand against her arm and she was in panic mode.
‘Shall we run through our lines while we’re waiting?’ he asked her suddenly.
‘No!’ Kirsten forced herself to move back from him. ‘What’s the point if Theo is changing the script already?’
‘Maybe you’re right.’ Cal glanced past her. ‘Here’s the man himself, so we’re about to find out.’
Theodore was a tall man of about fifty. He had wiry dark hair and eyes that were so dark and intense they could drill holes in you with just a glance. Kirsten didn’t really know him; she had only met him a couple of times. But she had heard about his fearsome reputation for flying into rages.
He looked as if he was living up to his reputation today; his face was red with anger and he was muttering something under his breath.
‘Theo, what’s the problem?’ Cal asked him cheerfully as he walked up to them.
Theo looked almost murderous for a moment, and then muttered in his broken English accent, ‘The men…the technicians have made an error. The lighting is not right.’
‘So how long before we start filming this scene?’ Kirsten asked, hoping she’d got time for a coffee.
‘We’ll run through it now.’ Theo waved them towards the set. ‘You sit on the bed, Kirsten; we’ll go over the new lines.’
As she did as she was told Kirsten tried to ignore the way her heart was thudding unevenly against her chest.
Someone