Page 15 of Thrill


  “Jesus! It’s tough to believe any guy would screw around on you.”

  She smiled wanly. “I’m not that special, Joey.”

  He stared at her, his dark eyes burning into hers. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that.”

  She looked away, confused, and then began speaking again, much too fast. “I’d like to meet Phillipa sometime. Maybe if the two of you come to L.A. you’ll visit me. I have a small ranch where! keep my horses and dogs.”

  “An animal lover, huh.”

  “I’ve always found animals more reliable than people.”

  “Sometimes I think about gettin’ a dog. Then I realize there’s no way I can keep one locked up in an apartment all day.”

  “No,” she said softly. “That would be cruel.”

  “Phillipa doesn’t like animals anyway.”

  “She doesn’t?”

  “Naw—she’s a city girl.”

  “You should try and convert her. Buy her a small dog.” “And have her leave it alone all day? I don’t think so.” “Send it to me for vacations,” Lara joked. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Hey,” he said, looking at his watch. “I promised I wouldn’t keep you out late. You’re working tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay,” she said quickly, not wanting the evening to end.

  “No,” he said. “I refuse to be responsible for bags under those beautiful eyes.”

  Was it possible he wasn’t going to make a move? This was a first. She was more than intrigued.

  He snapped his fingers for the check, ordered a cab, paid the bill in cash and helped her up.

  Outside the restaurant they got in the cab, and Joey gave the driver her address. She’d offered to bring her car and driver, but Joey had said it wasn’t a good idea—too much gossiping would take place. She had agreed.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked tentatively, when the cab pulled up outside her house.

  Before he could answer, her guard appeared. “Evening, Miss Ivory.”

  Was there no privacy?

  Joey shook his head. “You gotta get your beauty sleep.” “You are coming by the set tomorrow to say good-bye to everyone, aren’t you?” she asked, thinking she sounded a touch needy.

  “Not a good idea,” he said, dutifully escorting her to the front door. “You wouldn’t want me and Kyle gettin’ into it again.”

  Her guard was hovering behind them. “Thank you, Max,” she said crisply. He got the message and promptly retreated. “Sorry about that,” she said, hoping Joey was at least going to kiss her good night.

  “Don’t worry about it. I like the fact you got people watchin’ out for you. Wouldn’t want to think of you bein’ alone.”

  “Are you sure about the coffee?”

  God! How much more open could she be?

  “Quite sure,” he said. “Oh, an’ by the way—if you ever get to New York, me and Philly would love to take you out.”

  “She won’t mind us having dinner tonight?”

  “She knows she can trust me,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her chastely on the cheek. “Thanks, Lara—for everythin’.” Then he turned around and strolled back to the cab.

  Lara was shocked. Was this it? Was he simply going to walk out of her life and she’d never see him again?

  Yes, Lara, this is it.

  She hurried into the house, hands trembling. She’d wanted so much for him to come in, and yet he obviously had principles, a quality she was forced to admire.

  Why couldn’t she meet a man like Joey Lorenzo? Handsome, charming and, most of all, incorruptible.

  She got undressed, slid between the sheets, closed her eyes and attempted to sleep.

  After a few minutes the phone rang. She grabbed it, foolishly hoping it was Joey. “Hi,” she murmured, husky voiced.

  “Well, hi to you too,” Nikki said. “Hope I’m not waking you.”

  “No, no, I . . . I only just got in.”

  “Hmm . . . out on a hot date, I hope.”

  “Actually, I was having dinner with Joey Lorenzo.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Don’t start getting the wrong idea, Nik, it’s purely a friendship thing.”

  “Oh, a guy who looks like that and it’s purely a friendship thing. Yeah, yeah, I believe you.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you he’s engaged?” Lara said, exasperated. “In fact, if you want the truth, I asked him in for coffee and he turned me down.”

  “You are joking?”

  “No, I am not. He’s nice and I like him, but he’s definitely not available.”

  “Wow! That’s really something.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?”

  “Anyway, I called to fill you in on Mick Stefan. I met with him today.”

  “How did it go?”

  “He’s kind of over the top—quirky—with a touch of the Quentin Tarantinos. I’m crazy about his work, and I’m sure he’ll do an amazing job.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “Look, before I hire him, I need to get your take on something.”

  “Yes?”

  “He started asking how you felt about the rape scene. I told him you always use a body double, but he feels the scene is pivotal to the movie, and that you have to be completely into it.”

  Lara considered her reply. “If Mick does the movie, and he’s as good as you say, then I guess I’m in his hands.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear,” Nikki said, sighing with relief.

  Lara put the phone down. She couldn’t sleep, and much to her annoyance she couldn’t stop thinking about Joey.

  Reaching for the TV remote, she tuned in to a Sylvester Stallone-Sharon Stone movie and tried to concentrate on the two actors as they writhed on the screen in a heated love scene, their perfect bodies naked and glistening with sweat.

  Just what she needed. A steamy sex scene. She clicked the TV off. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Joey out of her head.

  One thing she knew for sure: Phillipa was a very lucky girl.

  • •

  Joey made it back to the hotel. He was revved. Lara had given him an opening, and he hadn’t taken it. The only sure way to score with a woman who could have any guy she wanted was to play hard to get. Right now she was sitting at home thinking that she couldn’t have him, and that’s exactly how he wanted her to feel.

  A bunch of people from the movie were hanging out in the bar as he passed—Roxy, Yoko and several members of the crew. Roxy waved, beckoning him to join them.

  “I’m out of it,” he said, making a quick excuse. “Gotta get some sleep.”

  “We wanna buy you a drink,” said Freddie, the ginger-haired focus puller who’d danced with Lara at her party. “You’re our hero, man. Punching out Kyle Carson. That’s good stuff.”

  Everybody cheered.

  “Yeah, well, I was only doing a public service,” Joey said modestly.

  “C’mon,” Roxy said, smoothing down her clinging sweater, hard nipples thrusting through the flimsy fabric. “We don’t bite—not unless you want it! Have a drink with us.”

  “Yes,” said Yoko. “You can sit next to me.”

  He wasn’t even tempted to score with any of these women. They were nothing and Lara was everything.

  “Gotta make some calls,” he said, excusing himself. “I’ll catch up with you guys in the mornin’.”

  He went upstairs and stared at the phone, forcing himself not to call Lara. Had to make her wait. Had to make her yearn for him as he yearned for her.

  He’d already decided that as soon as he got back to New York, he’d take the money he’d made from the movie, pay Madelaine back and move out. That way he’d be under no obligation, and she couldn’t go around saying he was a thief.

  Of course, that meant he’d be broke again, but so what? He’d survive. He always had.

  For a moment he almost gave in and picked up the phone, stopping himself just in time.

&nbs
p; He knew exactly how to make Lara want more.

  She was his future, and he couldn’t afford to screw it up.

  CHAPTER

  22

  “THAT’S NO WAY TO BEHAVE,” Madelaine said, her pinched face tense with anger.

  “What?” said Joey, not really listening as he idly switched TV channels. Why did he always get caught in these traps with women he didn’t want to be with? Madelaine had been good to him, but now that he’d found Lara, he had to get out, for both their sakes.

  “What kind of a name will you get in the business if you go around punching people on the set?” Madelaine demanded, all steely eyed. “Kyle Carson’s a big star—you can’t afford to have people like that mad at you. Word soon spreads if you’re difficult, then, believe me, the work stops.”

  “We had a fight scene,” he explained, clicking off the remote. “Kyle was supposed to pull his punch. Instead he knocked me flat on my ass.”

  “Kyle Carson is the star of the picture,” Madelaine stormed, dismissing his explanation. “You should have accepted it.”

  “Is that what you think I should’ve done?” he said sarcastically. “Well, jeez, Mad, guess what? I’m not in this business to get punched out. And I don’t give a crap who’s doin’ the punching.”

  “You won’t be in this business at all if you carry on like this.”

  She’d been irritable ever since he’d gotten back. He knew it was because he’d refused to have sex with her. Of course he’d come up with a credible excuse, told her he might have herpes. “I’ve got this ridge on my dick—dunno what it is,” he’d lied. “The girl I went with before you had kind of a dubious history. Don’t worry,” he’d added. “I’m sure it’s nothin’, only I wouldn’t want to put you at risk. Here, take a look,” he’d said, unzipping his pants.

  She’d shrunk back, horrified. “Tomorrow you must see a doctor.”

  . The next day he told her he’d been to a doctor who’d informed him it was merely an abrasion, and said that he should refrain from sex for a couple of weeks.

  So now they were living in the same apartment and not having sex, and this did not please Madelaine at all, since as far as she was concerned, sex was his main attraction.

  The third night he was home he waited until she was asleep and then took off. He did not do his usual prowl around the mean streets, instead he went straight to a bar, found a pay phone and called Lara in the Hamptons.

  She answered the phone herself. “Remember me?” he said.

  “Joey!” she responded, sounding pleased to hear from him.

  “Thought I’d check in—see how it’s goin’ on the movie,” he said casually.

  “Everything’s great, thanks. Nice of you to think of us.”

  “Kyle’s gotta miss me like crazy,” he joked. “Anythin’ happen after I left?”

  “He mumbled about you a lot, told Miles to be sure to cut you out of the movie . . .”

  “Will he?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it. Our scene together is in the script I accepted. I fully expect to see it on the screen.”

  He laughed. “I like a woman with clout.”

  She laughed back. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  A short silence, then: “Hey—Lara, it was really good spending time with you.”

  “I enjoyed it too,” she said softly.

  “When are you off to L.A.?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “Bet you’re lookin’ forward to some downtime.”

  “Me? Downtime?” she said ruefully. “I’m making the most of it while I can, before I turn into an old hag.” “Yeah, thirty-two’s really gettin’ up there.”

  “Actually, my next project is Nikki’s movie.”

  “Nikki?”

  “You met her at my party. She’s producing her first film. In fact, she’s signed Mick Stefan to direct.”

  “Interesting choice. Although I heard somewhere he’s a maniac.”

  “It’s a different type of role for me, something that will stretch me as an actress.” She paused for a moment, then added thoughtfully, “You know, Joey, they’re not going with stars. Maybe there’s something in it for you. Shall I ask Nikki if they’ll see you?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Problem is they’re all on the West Coast.”

  “I can fly to L.A.”

  “What about Phillipa?”

  “Too busy, as usual.”

  “I’ll speak to Nikki—see what she says.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Uh . . . Lara?”

  “Yes?”

  A long beat. “Nothin’ . . . I’ll call again in a coupla days. Don’t wanna keep you up.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly. “I was watching television.”

  “Well . . . it was good talking to you.”

  “You too, Joey.”

  He put the phone down, strolled over to the bar and got a beer.

  Things were looking up. Lara Ivory and a role in her new movie. What could be a better combination?

  • •

  Lara hung up. She had to admit she was ridiculously pleased to hear from Joey. The truth was she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  She called Nikki and asked her if there might be something for Joey in the film.

  “Mick has very set ideas,” Nikki said. “That’s not to say I can’t get him to meet with Joey as a favor to you. Is he coming to L.A. soon?”

  “If there’s a chance for him to see Mick Stefan, he’ll be on the next plane.”

  “Hmm . . .” Nikki murmured thoughtfully. “Am I reading something into this? Let me see: the guy is engaged, you had dinner with him, invited him in for a coffee, but he didn’t go for it. Now you’re trying to get him a part in Revenge. Could be you’re taking a shot?”

  “No way,” Lara said indignantly. “We’re just friends.”

  “You’re just friends ’cause he chooses to have it that way,” Nikki said knowingly.

  “You think I couldn’t get him?” Lara responded boldly.

  “You’re too nice to go after another girl’s guy. It’s not your M.O.”

  “Don’t be so sure. You don’t know everything about me.”

  She put the phone down. Nikki could be so infuriating.

  • •

  “I think Lara’s finally found herself a man,” Nikki said matter-of-factly.

  Richard placed the copy of Variety he was reading on the bedside table, removed his glasses and looked up. “What did you say?”

  They were sitting comfortably in bed, propped up by pillows, surrounded by newspapers, magazines and the daily trades.

  “I said,” Nikki repeated slowly, “that Lara has found herself a guy.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “She met an actor on her movie. He’s supposedly engaged, but there seems to be something going on between them. She wants me to see him for Revenge. He’s prepared to fly out. Now, would she go to all that trouble if she wasn’t interested?”

  “Have you met him?”

  “I saw him when I was in the Hamptons. He’s a looker—macho, dark. I don’t know how talented he is, but hey, if it’s what she wants, I may as well read him.”

  “Why would she get involved with an actor?”

  “It’s really none of our business who she gets involved with.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said irritably. “I look out for Lara and her interests, she needs looking after.”

  “She’s your ex-wife, Richard,” Nikki reminded him. “You don’t have to watch out for her anymore.”

  “I thought she was your friend.”

  “She is my friend, and I love her. I’d like nothing better than for her to get laid—it’s been a while.”

  “God, you’re vulgar!”

  She moved closer to her husband, gently touching his thigh, her hand moving slowly up. “Isn’t that what you like about me?”

&nbs
p; He picked up his copy of Variety again. “I’m not in the mood,” he said, pushing her hand away.

  “You always used to be,” she said, adding jokingly, “in fact, for an old man you’re extremely horny.”

  “And I’m not old either,” he said, failing to see any humor in her crack.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, backing off because she realized he was age sensitive. “I stand corrected—middle aged.”

  “I hate that phrase,” he muttered.

  “Well, that’s what you are,” she said, continuing to needle him.

  “Where’s Summer tonight?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I’ve given up tracking her. The only person she’ll listen to is you.”

  “That’s because you treat her like a baby. Give her more space, let her know you trust her.”

  “But I don’t trust her, Richard. Every time I see her she’s with a boy—kissing, groping, God knows what else.”

  “Isn’t that what you used to do when you were her age?”

  “Yes, but not in front of my mother.”

  “Ease up. Then maybe you’ll have a better relationship.”

  Nikki realized that since Summer had arrived, their sex life had definitely taken a dive. Usually when she made the first move, he was ready, willing and able. Not tonight. In fact, not for the last month.

  She tried it again, deftly plucking Variety out of his hands, running her fingers lightly across his bare chest.

  He reached over, switching off the bedside lamp. “I’m tired,” he said.

  She continued to work on him, her fingers traveling downward, stroking his skin in little circles the way she knew he liked.

  “Don’t pressure me, Nikki,” he said, moving her hand again.

  “Pressure you?” she repeated, amazed. “I thought you loved my taking the initiative.”

  He stretched out with his back toward her.

  She moved up behind him, nuzzling against his comforting warmth. “Tomorrow night.” she murmured, yawning, “let’s go to bed early, then neither of us will be tired.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Oh, and Nikki—”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t push Lara into anything.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You have a habit of forcing things. She’s fine by herself.”