offer her a part in one of his upcoming movies. Nothing too large. She was an unknown, after all.
Of course Blake anticipated that his offer to help her out would come with the bonus of taking her to bed in the foreseeable future. Which he very much wanted to do. More so than he had in a long while. Whilst sex was something he enjoyed, he wasn’t a sex addict. He could do without—especially when he was working long hours. Which he had been for several weeks now, finishing up Lachlan’s latest movie and getting it ready for distribution.
Possibly this longish stint of celibacy was responsible for the rather urgent wave of desire he was currently experiencing. Hopefully there wasn’t any extraneous reason why Kate shouldn’t respond to his pursuit. The only hurdle he could think of was a boyfriend in the wings. Or, worse, a fiancé.
A swift glance at her left hand detected a total absence of rings.
Good. A boyfriend he could handle, but a fiancé was another matter entirely.
‘I am so going to hate these photographs,’ Kate muttered when the photographer started giving them orders.
‘I don’t know why,’ he commented as they were forcefully arranged in a group in the well-lit gazebo, with the harbour and the bridge in the background. ‘With your bone structure I bet you’re very photogenic.’
Even if she wasn’t the best actress in the world, she would look good on screen. Blake felt confident that the camera would love her.
‘It’s very nice of you to say so.’
‘Not at all. It’s the truth. I never say things just to be nice.’
Not until tonight, that is. For some weird and wonderful reason Blake felt uncharacteristically compelled to be nice to Kate. Very nice. And it wasn’t just because he wanted to have sex with her. Right from the first moment he’d set eyes on her sad-looking self she’d brought out the gallant in him. Which was unusual. Because a white knight with women Blake was not—especially since Claudia’s betrayal.
Quite frankly he could be a bit of a bastard where the opposite sex was concerned. Especially if the girl was an ambitious young actress who made it obvious when they met that she was his for the taking—not because of a genuine attraction but because sleeping with him would further her career.
Kate was different, though. A different sort of girl. A different sort of actress.
He’d given her every opportunity to flirt with him. And flatter him. But she’d done neither. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
‘Would the bridesmaid please smile?’ the photographer snapped impatiently. ‘This is a wedding, not a funeral.’
BUT IT IS a funeral, Kate wanted to wail. It was the death of her dream to marry Lachlan herself one day.
A stupid dream, really. Stupid and futile—especially once he’d met Maddie.
Of course she should never have taken him home. But she’d honestly thought it would be safe, with Maddie practically engaged. How had she been supposed to know that they would take one look at each other and fall head over heels in love?
Well, you should have known, you idiot!
Not that it would have made any difference.
Get real, you fool. Even before he met Maddie Lachlan had three years to notice you in that way. But he didn’t and he never would have! You’re not his type—which is blonde and beautiful, with buckets of self-esteem and a sense of self-entitlement to rival royalty. Somehow that description doesn’t fit you, dear heart. Not even remotely.
A very strong male arm suddenly wound around her waist, pulling her firmly against his side and propelling Kate out of her self-pitying thoughts. Glancing up at Blake, she encountered narrowed blue eyes giving her a warning look.
‘If you don’t start smiling properly,’ he whispered into her ear, ‘I’ll start thinking you can’t act your way out of a paper bag.’
Kate blinked, then swallowed and straightened her spine—after which she rewarded him with a beaming smile. Because no way did she want Blake Randall thinking she couldn’t act. Hadn’t she resolved earlier to try to use the opportunity of meeting him to her advantage? It would be utterly foolish to ignore a man of his influence and contacts. If she couldn’t have Lachlan’s love, then at least she could have a career.
‘That’s better,’ he said, smiling down at her.
Her spirits lifted again, as they had earlier when he’d smiled at her. Kate couldn’t quite understand why he was as interested in her as he seemed to be—but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?
The photos were still a trial—especially when she and Blake mostly had to stand to one side and witness Maddie and Lachlan having endless shots taken of just the two of them in all sorts of romantic poses and clinches.
Maddie had confessed to Kate that morning that they’d already sold their wedding photos to a well-known tabloid—which wasn’t surprising. Her sister was very money-hungry. Celebrity-hungry, too. They were certainly a well-matched couple in that regard; Kate was well aware of Lachlan’s love of fame.
She winced as she watched him kiss his blushing bride for the umpteenth time.
If she’d been alone with Blake, Kate might have been able to distract herself by chatting about movies. But, no, fate wasn’t going to be that kind. Her parents were now hurrying over to them, demanding to be introduced, and gushing like mad over the bride and groom.
After what felt like for ever, but was probably only a few minutes, Blake suddenly took her arm and said, ‘You must excuse us, folks, but we really have to speak to Byron ASAP.’
He didn’t explain further, just swept a relieved Kate away.
‘Are they always like that?’ he growled as he snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, pressing one into Kate’s hand.
‘Like what?’
‘Raving about your sister like she’s a bloody princess. They never said a word about how gorgeous you look. It was all about Maddie—Little Miss Perfect and oh, so clever to have snared herself a husband like Lachlan.’ He snorted at that. ‘They won’t be saying that in a couple of years’ time.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, a little flustered by his saying she looked gorgeous.
‘Damn it,’ he said, gulping his glass of champagne before giving her a slightly sheepish look. ‘I probably shouldn’t be saying this. Though maybe you already suspect?’
‘Suspect what?’
‘That where the opposite sex is concerned Lachlan is a rat. No, more of a cat. A tom cat. He can’t keep it in his pants for long. Trust me when I say that being married won’t stop him from sleeping around. I walked in on him having sex with a make-up girl just a few weeks ago. Long after his engagement to your sister.’
Possibly Kate shouldn’t have been shocked—Lachlan had garnered quite a reputation during his years at NIDA—but she was.
‘Poor Maddie,’ she said, and downed half of her glass of champagne.
‘I agree with you. If she truly loves Lachlan then she’s in for a bumpy road.’
What an odd thing to say, Kate thought. If she truly loves him. Of course Maddie truly loved him. Lachlan was the sort of man who inspired love. Every time Kate looked at him she felt that tightening in her stomach, that wave of longing. So nowadays she tried not to look at him. It was easier that way.
She did go and see his movies, though. Which was the worst form of masochism since they were all love stories