“Giselle.” Chad’s voice rang out from the mouth of the cave. “They’re ready for you.”
She clenched her teeth and growled in frustration, which was about as threatening and adorable as a kitten’s hiss.
“Go get your sexy on, girl.” He wandered away, busying himself with some unnecessary equipment gathering and a distracted “Don’t keep the star waiting.”
As Troy listened to her footsteps fade from the cave, he let the harnesses drop from his hands and covered his face, rubbing his eyes with his palms. The best thing he could do for both of them was keep his distance—physically and emotionally—until they parted ways again. And they would, because they spent their lives crisscrossing the world.
Letting her go, letting her move on, might be the hardest, most painful thing he’d ever done, but it was the best thing he could do for her. And he might not have done a lot right in his life, but all the best things he’d ever done had been the things he’d done for her.
Giselle’s mind couldn’t stop pinging. Thoughts ricocheted against her skull like little sparks, bursting, then fading only for another to burst somewhere else, then fade. Over and over and over. Troy. Her career. Alex, the man on top of her. Troy. Tonight’s show. The club. Troy. All the eyes on her mostly naked body. Alex. Troy. Jeff, the director. Troy. Troy. Troy…
“Nice, Giselle,” Jeff said, his voice smooth and encouraging. “You love this. You need this. Arms overhead, arch your back. Good, nice. You’re so hot. So turned on. Alex, tilt your face a little more this way. Cathy, shift the lighting…”
Jeff’s direction continued to cast and crew as Alex’s lips traveled down the middle of Giselle’s chest, between her breasts, over her stomach. She’d lost track of how long the guy had been kissing and groping her, but every time they started over and filmed it again, she had the same numb sensation, like she was only half there. And she wondered if that was why they’d had to refilm so many times. But no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t engage herself in these acts with this man.
He was handsome, friendly, warm, and patient. Alex also had a body as equally built as Troy’s, a smile that lit up a room—or in this case, a cave—a sexy laugh that turned heads, and had all the women on the crew swooning over his every breath.
“And hands to breasts…” Jeff said.
Alex’s hands slid up Giselle’s sides and covered her breasts. Her fingers curled into fists. Her belly quivered. But not in excitement.
“Writhe a little, Giselle. Perfect. Push into his hands. Yes, just like that.”
Why didn’t she feel anything? His mouth was warm. His hands practiced. His body supple and strong.
“All that fire between you and me, it was one hundred percent real and you know it.”
Troy’s voice filled her head bringing a rush of anxiety. Her thoughts rushed back to the pleasure he’d brought her, to the euphoric sense of hope she’d experienced when she’d believed she might be able to find another man who could make her feel even a sliver of the fulfillment Troy always had.
Only that man had been Troy.
So where did that leave her?
“And… Cut,” Jeff said.
Giselle eased back to the thin foam mat on the rock behind her and waited to hear what he said next, praying he didn’t want another take. They’d run this scene six times already, with cameras at every possible angle.
But instead of wrapping, Jeff said, “Great job, guys. Let’s take twenty.”
Her shoulders dropped. “This is way harder than it looks,” she told Alex. He straightened his arms and grinned down at her. “And you’ve been incredibly patient with me.”
His smile was warm, and the interest sparkling in his hazel eyes was real. If she were smart, she’d grab on to that and run with it. If she were smart, she’d find a man who wasn’t as screwed up as she was and love him as hard as she could.
“You’re an easy woman to be patient with,” he said, “and you’re doing great.”
“Alex,” Jeff called. “A word?”
His smile vanished, and he made an impatient sound in his throat. “Evidently, I’m not doing quite as well.”
Giselle didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t really want to know. This world of movies was not only foreign but counterintuitive.
Alex pushed to his knees as one of the crew handed Giselle a silk robe. She slid her arms in and pulled it across her body, then climbed off the cave’s ledge with the help of another crew member. Someone else handed her a cold bottle of water, while another laid flip-flops at her feet. They treated her like royalty.
“Do you think I could get some air?” she asked the young man whose name she couldn’t remember.
“Sure. But I wouldn’t go outside. You’ll melt.”
She wandered toward one of the cave’s many entrances, and the closer she came to the mouth of the cave, the hotter it got. So she found a shadowed alcove where she eased to a seat on a small ledge, closed her eyes and took deep, slow breaths of the fresh but hot air, soaking in the natural light. She was glad she’d asked Chad and Brook not to stay for the shoot. They would only have fussed and worried, which would have raised her anxiety level.