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  “And what made you think that I wanted a salad?” Guy interjected. “I had my mouth primed for some chicken and waffles!”

  “I’m sure you did,” Dahlia said sarcastically as she gestured toward the other side of the room. “Your friend Lisa is on her way back over, so you can change your order if you want.”

  The girl moved back to their table. “I’m sorry, but what kind of salad dressing would you like with your salad?” she asked, a befuddled expression crossing her face.

  Dahlia chuckled softly to herself, imagining that if the poor girl could drop deep into a hole in the floor that she would, pulling in everything except Guy Boudreaux on top of herself. “That’s no problem,” she said, her tone soothing. “In fact, we apologize, but if it’s not too much trouble my friend here has decided he would prefer chicken today. Mr. Boudreaux will have the number three instead—half a chicken with two waffles,” she finished. “Thank you.”

  Lisa nodded. “Okay, so that’s a number three, Southern-style?”

  “Yes, please,” Guy said. He leaned back in his seat, shaking his head as they watched the girl rush to the kitchen.

  “Do all women have that kind of reaction around you?” Dahlia asked, laughing warmly. “Because that poor child has completely lost it.”

  Guy shrugged. “Obviously not. You don’t seem to be falling apart.”

  “I’m not like other women.”

  Guy smiled, the bend of his full lips rising with glee. “No, you’re not, are you? Actually, you’re kind of bossy and controlling,” he noted, tilting his head toward her.

  Dahlia pulled her hands to her chest, her fingers resting against her clavicle. “Me? Controlling?” she said, her eyebrows raised.

  Guy laughed. “And bossy!”

  Dahlia smiled back as she suddenly became aware of the light graze of his fingers pressing against her bare skin; his arm was still wrapped around the back of the cushioned booth and her shoulders.

  There was a pregnant pause as they sat studying each other, neither saying a word but both suddenly thinking the same thing. Whether they expressed the sentiment out loud or not, it had been clear from their very first encounter that something was brewing between them. It was the slight looks, the veiled hints and innuendoes, his hand touching her shoulder for a second longer than necessary— Those unspoken signals hinted at the promise of something exciting and provocative to come. Both were thinking it, and then they weren’t, shaking the sensation away as quickly as it had risen.

  Dahlia cleared her throat and took a second sip of her drink. “I haven’t properly thanked you for the money you contributed to the film. I can’t begin to tell you how much your generosity means to me.”

  “You’re very welcome. Since I like the idea of being involved in more ways than just adding my acting chops, it seemed like a smart investment.”

  “Well, I appreciate it, and I appreciate you getting your family on board, as well.”

  Guy eyed her curiously, his eyebrows lifted in question. “My family?”

  Dahlia met his gaze, surprised by his inquisitive stare. “Didn’t you know? Phaedra and her husband, Mason, made a very substantial investment. And so did Phaedra’s brother, John Stallion.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Guy answered, his head bobbing lightly against his broad shoulders. There was a pause as their lunch was delivered. Heat billowed off his plate of crispy, batter-fried chicken and buttermilk waffles. The decadent aromas wafted up his nostrils, the sweet scent reminding him of home and his family. As the waitress excused herself, he continued their conversation.

  “So, how much more do you think you’ll need to finish the film?”

  “Not much at all. In fact, I’ll be able to cover any additional expenses out of my personal funds. We can go ahead and begin shooting the film. We’re in a really

  great place.”

  “And just so I’m clear, we’ll be able to review your books, right?” Guy questioned as he lifted a forkful of food to his mouth.

  Dahlia bristled ever so slightly. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Guy smiled, swiping at his lips with a paper napkin before he answered. “It’s not about trust. It’s about protecting my family’s investment. I feel kind of responsible now. Why are you offended?”

  “I’m not offended.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. “No, I am not. You, Phaedra and your brother-in-law as well as anyone else who has invested a dollar in this movie will be able to review the books at any time. In addition, the accountant will send you quarterly updates on the expenditures.”

  Guy nodded, changing the subject. “You’re an only child, aren’t you?”

  There was a second’s pause as Dahlia reflected on his question. She thought briefly about the half brothers

  that she barely knew, her siblings who had been raised by their respective mothers on different sides of the country. As a little girl, there had been numerous cross-country trips with their father. Kent and Palmer, older than Dahlia by nine and ten years, had grown, and the trips had morphed into father-daughter jaunts by the time Dahlia had reached her twelfth birthday.

  Through the years, the family had not done a great job of keeping in contact with one another, a fact that Dahlia had promised herself too many times she would rectify. She finally answered Guy’s question, adding her own query. “No, I’m not, why would you ask?”

  “Because you were a little sensitive when I asked about your books. You don’t like anyone checking up behind you. You’re not used to it. When you have brothers

  and sisters you kind of get used to someone watching you over your shoulder.”

  Dahlia shrugged. “I have two half brothers, but we’re not very close. I haven’t seen them in a few years although they do call every few months or so. But I wasn’t at all being sensitive,” she added defensively.

  Guy nodded, a wry smile pulling at his full mouth. “There are nine of us, and we all speak to each other practically every day. One of us is always checking up behind one of the others. There is little that any of us do that all of us don’t know about.”

  “Nine! Wow. Where do you fall in that mix?”

  “There are five boys and four girls. I’m the eighth kid, the youngest boy.”

  “Wow,” Dahlia exclaimed a second time. “I can’t begin to imagine what that might be like.”

  Guy laughed. “Actually it’s always been a lot of fun, sort of like having your own personal cheerleading squad. I don’t think I’d want it any other way.”

  “I can understand that. I remember a lot of good times with my brothers. We had a lot of fun, and they were once very protective.”

  “So why haven’t you made more of an effort to reconnect with them?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I didn’t stutter,” Guy said matter-of-factly.

  Dahlia leaned back in her seat, her arms crossing in front of her. She was stunned by his audacity; his expression was just shy of being arrogant. She stammered slightly, searching for the right words to tell him her business was, and would always be, none of his. But Guy spoke before she did.

  “Before you get yourself all worked up, the point I was trying to make is that if you want things to change you have to make the effort for them to do so. My mother would tell you that talking about it won’t make it happen. Doing about it will.”

  Dahlia took a deep breath, still eyeing him with reservation as he gestured for the waitress. Despite being completely annoying, every time the man smiled, the brilliance of it like a spotlight on her spirit, she couldn’t help but like him more.

  “Would you like some dessert?” Lisa asked, staring at Guy and completely avoiding Dahlia’s gaze. Her expression spoke volumes. He laughed loudly, completely amused.

  Just as Dahlia
leaned forward to speak, Guy lifted his hand and waved his index finger in front of her, stalling her words as he ordered for them. “Lisa, we will take a very, very large slice of the best cake you have back there with two scoops of vanilla ice cream on top and two spoons, please.”

  “Will that be all?” the waitress asked as she jotted the order down on a slip of paper.

  “And the check, please,” Dahlia added, taking a quick glance down at her cell phone.

  When Lisa was out of earshot, Guy slid closer toward her, leaning in as if he was going to whisper something. As he drew his face close to hers, the distinctive scent of Acqua di Gio teased her nostrils.

  “Are you still mad?” he questioned, that damn smile sending a shimmer of electricity straight through her core.

  Dahlia met his stare, her own smile widening across her face. “Yeah,” she finally managed to mutter. “’Cause you should have ordered chocolate ice cream.”

  “I would have ordered both, but I’m training for a new movie, remember?” Guy smiled. When the ice cream and cake arrived with two spoons jutting from opposite ends of the glass bowl, he slid it between them, shifting his body even closer to hers as he did. Dahlia’s eyes widened as his hip and leg slid against hers, and her breath caught in her throat at the nearness of him. She fought the urge to pull away, to slide her body

  from his, wanting to stall the sudden rise of heat threatening to consume her. Instead, she reached for the closest spoon and shoveled a serving of dessert into her mouth.

  Neither spoke as they shared the decadent confection, both lost in thoughts of each other and reveling in the simplicity of the moment. Two hours later, the couple was still sitting side by side. With full stomachs they’d been talking nonstop, sharing stories about their childhoods, their ambitions, the movie and every other topic that happened to cross their minds in the moment. Both were comfortable, as if the time they shared was something they’d been doing every day for all of their lives.

  Around them the dinner crowd was beginning to settle in for the evening meal. It was later than either of them could imagine, both enjoying the time they were spending together. The waitress had stopped frequently to refill their glasses, anxious to keep Guy satisfied for as long as he wanted to take up space at her table. And although they’d been interrupted a time or two by people seeking Guy’s autograph, they’d gotten themselves so lost in each other that they’d frequently forgotten that they were sitting in a crowded room and not somewhere private.

  Dahlia reached for the last glass of iced tea the waitress had deposited on the tabletop. She lifted her gaze to his as he sat staring intently at her, and something like longing shimmered between them. The feeling was startling, and Dahlia felt the rise of perspiration dampen her palms and puddle between her breasts.

  She was suddenly quivering with excitement, grateful for the seat beneath her bottom. The man had ignited a fire in the core of her feminine spirit; heat rose like wildfire from the center of her being. Desire surged, and Dahlia was suddenly hungry for something she’d not even known she needed. Like day needed night to be complete. Like one needed oxygen to breathe.

  She found herself wishing that their time together would never end, and her eyes widened at the absurdity. Shaking with emotion, she gestured toward Lisa for the check that she’d forgotten to bring.

  Guy cleared his throat, fighting to stall the rise of heat that had suddenly consumed him, as well. Guy wanted her, and he didn’t want her like he wanted a cup of coffee or wanted to get an extra ten minutes of sleep. He wanted Dahlia like a man twenty feet under water with a cement block chained to his ankles wanted air. He wanted her like a skydiver with a bad rip cord wants his parachute to open. His want of Dahlia felt soul-deep, obsessive and carnal, like nothing he’d ever known before.

  “This one’s on me,” Guy said as he reached to take the tab from Dahlia’s hand.

  She pulled it back and shook her head as she passed it and her credit card to the waitress. “No way,” she stated emphatically. “And have you talking about me later? I don’t think so.” She smiled brightly.

  Guy chuckled. “Yeah, I would talk about you. I almost regret what I told people about you and that bottle of water from our casting meeting yesterday,” he said, shaking his head. “Almost.”

  “See. I’ve got your number,” Dahlia said. She was still grinning from ear to ear.

  “Well, let me leave the tip, then,” Guy said as he reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his billfold.

  As Dahlia signed the credit card receipt and handed it back to Lisa, Guy slipped a hundred-dollar bill into the young girl’s hands. Lisa’s eyes bulged with appreciation.

  “Thank you,” she exclaimed excitedly. “Thank you so much!”

  Guy winked at her as she rushed back to share the news of her good fortune with her coworkers.

  Dahlia rose to her feet. “This was nice,” she said. “I had a really good time.”

  “So did I,” Guy said, walking her out the restaurant and guiding her in the direction of her vehicle. “It’s probably been one of the best first dates that I’ve ever had.”

  She cut her eye at him as he took her car keys from her hands and unlocked the car for her. He opened the door and gestured for her to get inside. She stood her ground, shaking her head vehemently.

  “This was not a first date,” she said as she snatched her keys from his fingers.

  Guy nodded, his laugh teasing. “Yes. It was. This was definitely a first date.”

  “No. It wasn’t,” Dahlia stated emphatically. Then Guy slipped his arm around her waist, his palm pressed firmly against her lower back and pulled her tightly to him. The gesture stalled her protests somewhere in her throat, and her eyes widened in surprise as Guy leaned in and pressed a damp kiss against her cheek.

  “I’m flying to New York tomorrow to finish filming my Chanel commercial. We can plan our second date for when I get back. I’ll give you a call.”

  Guy kissed her cheek a second time before releasing the hold he had on her. “Stay safe,” he said as he took her by the elbow and guided her inside her car. He winked as he secured the door, then turned and headed in the direction of his own car.

  Through all of it Dahlia was in a state of flux, her head bouncing up and down like a bobblehead doll. “I don’t date,” she finally managed to muster, the comment echoing inside the closed vehicle as Guy Boudreaux disappeared from her sight.

  Chapter 7

  The sound of the telephone ringing pulled Guy from a deep sleep, and his body quivered with sweat. The waking was unexpected, and unwelcome, and the sensual dream he was experiencing left him so quickly that he suddenly felt lost, unable to get his bearings. He was surrounded by darkness. Nothing but the pale green glow of the digital clock illuminated the room. He rolled onto his stomach to reach across the nightstand for his cell phone. When he knocked the device to the floor he cursed under his breath.

  His member was rock-hard, a rod of steel pressing hot against his leg. He rolled over onto his back as he clasped the length of himself in the palm of his hand. He’d been thinking about Dahlia since he’d left her side a few days ago; the warmth of her skin still burned hot against his lips. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind, thinking of her during his flight to New York and as he’d completed his photo shoot. Now she was tripping through his dreams, the sensual fantasy so real that he was still hard with desire for the luscious woman.

  When his phone beeped, indicating someone had left him a voice mail, he was still thinking about her, his hand still wrapped tightly around his sex as he stroked himself gently. Guy blew a deep sigh past his lips as he rolled back over and reached for the light on the nightstand. He turned it on, then collected his cell phone from the floor. The message light blinked rapidly. Dialing his mailbox, he pulled the device to his ear and listened.

/>   “Guy, hey, this is Dahlia.” There was a moment’s pause as if she was collecting her thoughts before moving on. “I wasn’t sure when you planned to be back from New York, but I needed to start scheduling script run-throughs and rehearsal times. I wasn’t sure if you did your own scheduling or if you had an assistant, so I figured I’d call you myself so that I could also thank you for lunch the other day, too. Well...okay then...I guess I will just catch up with you later.”

  Guy smiled broadly, a sense of knowing spreading through his body. Dahlia had a very adept staff who handled her tasks; he knew she didn’t call to do scheduling, and she knew that all of his scheduling was done through his agent’s office. But he could hear what she really wanted. He could hear it in her voice—the inflection of her words betrayed her. Dahlia Morrow couldn’t get him off her mind, either.

  Rolling back against the mattress, he sighed. He liked her. But dating the woman who’d employed him was not the smartest thing he could do. Nor did it make sense to date a woman with a reputation like Dahlia’s. He could just imagine the problems on set if things didn’t work out between them and the scandal that would send the tabloids into a gossip overload. He also had no interest in just being another trophy on Dahlia Morrow’s romantic shelf. As he had heard it, Dahlia had collected a number of trophies since arriving on the West Coast. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that her and him together would not be a wise business decision, and Guy was determined to make wiser decisions about his career.

  As he lay pondering his options, Guy thought it best that he leave things strictly professional between the two of them. But the raging erection that persisted as thoughts of the woman ran through his mind kept telling him something wholeheartedly different.

  * * *

  “You wanted to start scheduling? Really, Dahlia?” Leslie let out a slight laugh.