Not a Fairy Tale

Paul was the longest relationship she’d ever had and they’d only met a few months ago.

But neither could she reject Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor, the man most women in this town – in this country – would kill to be with. Not here. Not now.

If she turned him down in front of everyone she’d be branded a heartless bitch. And that wasn’t going to help her win the ultimate in peer awards any time soon.

The silence stretched, the audience growing restless, starting to murmur.

She could say yes and accept another wave of fake congratulations and then tomorrow she could call it off…

Tension etched lines around Paul’s pin-up blue eyes. “You really know how to make a man beg,” he joked.

The crowd tittered, but there was tension in that sound, too.

Paul could take her career places she hadn’t even begun to imagine. They could be Hollywood’s new power couple, the new Brangelina.

On the other hand, she might spend the best years of her life as Mrs. de Angelo, always in the shadow of her more-famous husband – and then find herself out on her ass, replaced by a younger model as soon as her prime was over.

A prime spent with a man whose idea of fun in the bedroom amounted to keeping the light on.

She had to make up her mind.

Saying “yes” now didn’t have to mean forever. Perhaps just until she got the “part of all parts.” Who could it hurt?

She opened her mouth to speak and heard Gran’s voice in her head. Whatever you do in that place, girl, you just remember where you came from. You work hard, you hold your head high, and you don’t ever compromise who you are.

She shook her head.

“What?” Paul obviously hadn’t intended the word to be magnified around the room. It bounced off the walls as people began to cough and snigger.

But their embarrassment had nothing on Nina’s. This was it. This was the end of everything. Turns out she wasn’t prepared to do ‘absolutely anything’ after all.

Marriage for the sake of her career was one of them. Even a fake engagement. It was up there with sleeping her way into a job. Gran would tan her hide if she said yes.

“No.”

This time Paul did speak for the microphone. “You’re such a joker.”

“I don’t want to marry you, Paul. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

He stared at her.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t think I’m the marrying kind.”

She didn’t need a microphone for her words to carry. They seemed to take on a life of their own, echoing around the vast room.

The moment hung, suspended in time, as she looked into Paul’s eyes and he looked into hers. Then his eyes narrowed, wiping away the disbelief, and the tsunami crashed in upon them.

“Do you know who I am?” he demanded. Then he rose, snapping the black box shut and jamming it into the pocket of his tux. He thrust the microphone back at the band’s lead singer and jumped down from the stage. Fury radiated off him and the whispering crowd parted before him, people stepping back into one another in their haste to give him space.

“You said she’d say yes,” Paul flung at Chrissie as he strode past.

The words sliced through Nina. This was the story Chrissie had promised the sub-editor? Who was she working for anyway?

The music began again, normal conversation resumed, but still Nina stood frozen on the stage. She knew what every one of them would be talking about. Who.

This wasn’t good.

She couldn’t breathe.

She had to get out of here.

She jumped off the stage, no one to help her down now, and the hem of her couture ball gown snagged on the edge of the stage. The fabric ripped, a long, drawn-out sound, but she didn’t care.

“What the hell did you just do?” It was Chrissie, face pale beneath her flawless Californian tan.

“You knew he was going to propose in front of everyone?” Nina took refuge in anger.

“Of course. We had it all planned out. This was supposed to be your big moment. And you just throw it away? How could you be so stupid?”

“You should have warned me!” Because then Nina would never have left the Governors’ Ball for this after-party. She’d still be back at the Dolby Theatre and her career and her reputation would still be intact. She would never have had to make such a terrifying decision in front of everyone.

Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them away. Crying now would only make it worse. What if her make-up ran? But she was tired and over-wrought from what had already been a very long evening, and it took huge effort.

She had to get out of here.

The only exit she knew was the same one she’d entered through, the entrance onto Sunset Boulevard where she’d have to run the gauntlet of half the world’s media.

Yet more cameras.

She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together for the length of that walk. She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together long enough to make it across the room.

“We have to get her out of here.”

Thank heavens. A voice of reason. Relief swamped her as she faced her agent.

It was short-lived.

“Hold up your dress. You’re baring your butt to the world.” Dane grimaced as he gathered up a handful of ripped silk and thrust it at her. “Couldn’t you have worn a sexy thong at least?”

The unshed tears burned all the way to her throat. How long had her supportive granny pants been on display to the entire room? And was Martin Scorsese looking straight at her?

“Would it have killed you to say yes?” Dane continued through gritted teeth. He didn’t even look at her. His gaze scoured the room, searching for a way out, just as she had done. “We’ll say you’re not well. You haven’t been well all week. You didn’t know what you were saying.” He turned to face her at last, giving up hope of a quiet exit. “I’m very disappointed in you. What were you thinking? Paul’s a powerful man in this business. He has a lot of influence, and you humiliated him in public. You can kiss Sonia goodbye now.”

A scalding tear slipped over her fake lashes and down her cheek. These were her friends, her support group. How could they turn on her like this?

“Maybe the press outside won’t have got wind of this yet?” Dane said hopefully.

The look Chrissie sent him answered that one quickly enough.

“I’ll get her out of here. I know a back exit.”

All three of them turned to look at Dominic. The relief in the faces of her agent and publicist would have been insulting if she hadn’t felt the same.

Dominic grinned. “We’re going to walk out of here as if we don’t have a care in the world. You can manage that much, can’t you sweetheart?”

Nina nodded. The tears had stopped their insistent push against her eyelids. She already felt calmer. If she wasn’t still so aware of the sea of eyes all around, she would have leaned into him.

“Do it,” he said, holding her gaze, daring her. His eyes sparkled. They were an unusual color. Mesmerizing. Like dark emeralds flecked with gold. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him.

How had he known what she was thinking? She breathed in the scent of the wild sea, simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, and gave in. She leaned into him.

“That’s it. You’re an actress, so act. Now just follow my lead.”

His cheeky grin was back in place. She managed a weak one of her own. “You’re enjoying this,” she meant it to sound accusing, but the words came out more curious.

“Of course I am. You just rescued me from dying of boredom.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Besides, the look on your minder’s face was all the reward I needed.”

Of course. The note she’d caught in Chrissie’s tone had been intended to warn him that he didn’t stand a chance with Nina. Instead, she was leaving the party with him.

She stifled a hysterical giggle.

Dominic took her free hand and led her through the crowd, not towards the kitchens or a service entrance, as she’d hoped, but straight toward their host. She prayed he knew what he was doing.

It wasn’t easy walking with one hand clasped behind her back, holding her gaping dress together, but she kept her chin up and she smiled. Not the furious, bright smile of before. She aimed more for a Mona Lisa effect now. It was about as much as she could manage.

Though people looked at them as they passed, with expressions ranging from sympathetic to curious to gleeful, no one stopped them to talk until they stood before the editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair himself, Graydon Carter. Satirical journalist, media mogul, social arbiter and celebrity in his own right.

Nina had never said more than two words to him in her life.

Graydon turned at their approach, smiling. “Leaving so soon, Dom?”

Dom grinned and shrugged. “You know how it is – I have a thing for damsels in distress. Thanks for another great dinner, and we’ll talk about that canoeing trip soon.”

Had Dominic been invited to the dinner and viewing party earlier in the night? Those tickets were gold. You practically had to be in Graydon Carter’s inner circle to be invited.

She did a rapid recalculation of this ‘lowly’ stunt man.

“I look forward to it.” Graydon’s eyes twinkled as he shook Dom’s hand. “There’s certainly never a dull moment with you around.” He glanced down to where Nina clutched her torn gown together, then summoned over a minion with an all-access security pass around his neck. “Ms. Alexander has had a wardrobe malfunction. Please take them out the private exit.” Then he turned to Nina. “Thank you.”

She tried to sound as cool and amused as he did. “My pleasure. But what for?”

Graydon’s grin reached ear to ear. “For providing me with the headline story for our webpage tomorrow.”

She wished she hadn’t asked.

The tuxedoed minion led them through the dining area, where the most privileged guests had sat for dinner, to an exit she hadn’t known existed.

“Shall I call the valet to bring your car around, Mr. Kelly?” the minion asked Dom.

“No need. I’m parked right outside.”

The minion frowned. Nina only just managed to stop her own frown from wrinkling her forehead. When she’d arrived there’d been a mile-long traffic jam and police everywhere. No one could have parked within walking distance of this place.

They passed two security checkpoints before they reached the exit to the back end of the Sunset Plaza parking lot and the minion left them. Nina dropped Dom’s hand and breathed in the cool night air. There were no fancy black Escalades parked out here, just vans and other working vehicles.

“What now?” she asked. “Are you going to sneak me out in a delivery van, or do you have a magical flying carpet stashed out here?”

Dom grinned. “As good as. How precious is that dress of yours?”

She glanced down to assess the damage and groaned. “I think it’s past saving.”

“Good.” He kneeled down and with a quick rip tore the remaining skirt off her dress.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to stop him. But she was too late. What had once been a slinky, scarlet, floor-length evening gown was now the length of a cocktail dress. A very short cocktail dress, with an uneven hemline that barely covered the granny pants.

Shit. Her PA was going to have to be very inventive to explain these new modifications to the designer.

He handed the torn expanse of fabric to her, then removed his jacket. “Cover yourself with this.” He helped her into the jacket, then placed his hand on her lower back to guide her between the cars.

To a motorbike.

No, not just any motorbike. A KTM offroad bike, with fiery orange paintwork and gleaming chrome. Not exactly subtle, but it was close and wouldn’t get stuck in the traffic jam out front. Nina nearly wept with relief.

A quick escape was worth the loss of one couture ball gown.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, handing her the helmet hooked over the handle- bars.

“There’s only one,” she pointed out.

“I wasn’t expecting to leave with a passenger. You wear it. Anything happens to that pretty face, you can kiss your career goodbye. But my career…” He shrugged. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

The helmet was going to wreck the beautiful curls her stylist had labored over all day. But no one would see her now. They were as good as home free.

She pulled the helmet on, her fingers fumbling with the chin-strap. Dom stepped close to help her and she caught her breath.

A light bulb popped.

She looked around.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse…they did. Not a bulb, but a camera flash.

The pap who’d spotted them gave a shout and began to run toward them, camera held high.

Dom lifted her onto the back of his bike as if she weighed nothing, then straddled the seat between her legs and revved the bike to life. The roar nearly drowned out his voice. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere,” she shouted back. Anywhere but home. The condo was barely a few blocks from here and the press would be all over it in two minutes as soon as this story broke.

She laughed. “I’m starving. I’d kill for a burger right now.”

Dom grinned back at her. “Hold on tight. I know just the place, but it’s gonna be a long drive.”

Chapter Two

Once he’d put enough distance between them and Sunset Plaza, and he was sure they didn’t have a tail, Dom slowed the bike.

It was the perfect night for the long twisting ride along Sunset Boulevard. A clear spring evening, with a cool breeze sweeping in off the ocean and a pretty woman with her arms wrapped around him.

And to think he almost hadn’t gone to Graydon’s party.

There was no way he could take her to 25 Degrees now. Or any place else where she might be spotted and recognized. Not in a torn evening gown that barely covered her ass. Even with the ban on social media at the party, he’d bet the story was all over Twitter by now.

She’d turned down Paul de Angelo – the most eligible bachelor in this town and one of the few people who could be called a ‘star’ these days. She was either very brave or very stupid, but either way he admired her. In a town so full of fake it was almost impossible to recognize real, Nina Alexander surprised him by being real. A woman who said what she thought. There weren’t a lot of actresses who knew how to do that anymore.

No wonder de Angelo had stormed out the party. He’d been in this town so long he probably didn’t know how to deal with someone who didn’t play the game by his rules.

At the end of Sunset, where the ocean stretched wide and the bright moon cast a silver beam across the water, Dom turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway. The salt-tanged wind whipped about them and Nina’s grip tightened around his waist.

When he glanced back at her, she was smiling, looking more relaxed than she had all evening and a whole lot less like she wanted to cry. Then she rested her cheek on his shoulder and he concentrated on the road ahead.

In Malibu he cruised into the McDonalds drive-thru and pulled up at the window. Nina shifted behind him, relaxing her grip around his waist as he placed their order. Then she held the paper bag between them for the few more miles it took to reach his destination.

He parked at the side of the road, deserted at this early hour, and climbed off, stretching stiff legs. His hip ached, more than usual, and he rubbed it absently before helping her down from the bike.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “Where are we?”

“Point Dume, the best beach in LA. Not a great surfing beach, but I love to come here when I need space to think.” The ideal place to escape the crowds and the hustle of the city.

He guided her along the trail to the steep, metal staircase, which plunged down to the rocky shore. She removed her shoes, then followed him cautiously down the dark stairs. As they walked along the rocks to the sandy part of the beach, a series of barks drifted to them through the dark.

“Only the sea lions,” he said, catching Nina’s shudder.

Her gaze stayed on the patch of darkness the sounds had come from. “Is it safe here?”

“Safer than most public beaches after dark.” There wasn’t much he was afraid of, and the odd homeless drifter punting for change certainly didn’t bother him.

They sat on the beach and looked out over the moonlit sea as the waves washed in, digging their toes into the soft sand. He took the packet of fries Nina refused, smiling as she bit into the burger. She closed her eyes and savored the taste, all her concentration focused on the food.

“What?” she asked, looking up and catching his grin. She wiped at the sauce dribbling down her chin. “Have I sprouted another head? Or are my granny pants showing again?”

“No, though now I’m really tempted to take a peek under that jacket. It’s a rare sight to see a woman enjoy her food the way you do.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow.” He licked his salty fingers. “Who’s Sonia? Your agent said you could kiss Sonia goodbye.”

“Sonia Fairchild.”

He shook his head. “I’m still not getting it.”

“From the Revelations books.”

“Books? Those are the things you have to sit down for hours on end to read, right?”

Nina’s wide, dark eyes reflected the moonlight. “You don’t read?”

“Unless it’s the Hollywood edition of Vanity Fair, no. Would that be a deal-breaker?”

She bit her lip for a moment, considering him. He didn’t need to be a genius to decode that look. He’d seen it often enough on other faces over the years. She was figuring him for all brawn and no brains, the stereotypical stuntman. He shrugged it off and tossed the empty fries packet into the paper bag.

“The Revelations trilogy is a fantasy series in which angels and demons come down to earth to fight the final battle between good and evil. Sonia’s an ordinary girl trying to get through college when she loses her family to this new holy war. Then she discovers she has some special skills, kind of like Neo in The Matrix, and she goes Ninja to save the world.”

“She sounds like a kick-ass chick. I might like her.”

“They’re casting the movies based on the books and I want to play her.” Nina sucked in a breath. “That’s why I wanted to meet with you.”

He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to go on.

“Every actress from here to London wants to play Sonia. It’s the role of a lifetime. Paul got me a chance to read for the part, but the producers weren’t convinced. I’ve been stereo-typed as the ditsy romantic interest for too long. They don’t see me as the intense, hard-core action type. They’re looking for someone more heroic.” She flinched at the last word.

“And you thought I could toughen you up to help you get the role? If it helps, you’re already my hero. It takes guts to do what you did tonight – to stay true to yourself.”

She bit her lip. “I guess there isn’t any point bothering now. They’ll never take a chance on me after tonight.”

“You turned down a marriage proposal. It’s not like you mainlined heroin in front of everyone or got so wasted they had to call the cops.”

“I might as well have. Paul has a lot of influence and I hurt his feelings.”

It wasn’t his feelings that were hurt. Dom shook his head and stretched out on the sand. “The days of any one person controlling this business are long gone. He’s not the only one with friends.”

He knew a few people, too. But how much did she really want this? Because he wasn’t going to put himself out for some fickle actress who wasn’t prepared to do the work. His reputation was all he had going for him right now and he wasn’t about to throw it away for a pretty face. Pretty faces were cheap as dirt in this town.

Character, now that was a different creature entirely.

Nina bit into the burger, taking her time over it before she spoke again. “I’m still an idiot. I could have said yes and then changed my mind later, in a less public place.”

“He’s the idiot. Who in their right mind proposes to a woman in front of a crowd like that?” Only someone with an ego the size of the Antarctic would be so confident of being accepted. Only someone who cared more about the spectacle than about the woman he’d proposed to would share such a private moment with a room full of strangers.

Or… “When an actor has been on the market as long as Paul de Angelo has, without even one failed marriage behind him, the rumors start.”

“Paul is NOT gay.”

“He doesn’t need to be for the gossip to spread. You know that. You’ve obviously heard the rumors. But an engagement would shut them up for a little while. A very public engagement at the party hosted by the hottest celebrity magazine on the planet would shut the rumors up a whole lot longer.”

She bit her lip as she digested the thought. “You think he was only dating me for his image?”

He hoped she didn’t want an answer, because he couldn’t answer honestly without offending her. Not that she looked particularly offended. Or heart-broken. “Why didn’t you want to marry him?” he asked instead.

She shrugged and looked away, but nothing could hide the flush that stained her neck and cheeks. Not even the moonlit darkness.

“Tell me,” he coaxed. “There’s no one here but you and me, and the sea.”

She shuddered, still not looking back at him. “I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with him. I’d grow bored and I’d want excitement, and quite frankly I don’t see any point making a promise to spend my life with someone, knowing from the very beginning that I wouldn’t keep it.”

He nodded slowly. He hadn’t realized they had so much in common. He grew bored quickly too and craved excitement, and he never made promises he couldn’t keep.

“How would you propose?” she asked, licking her fingers.

The question was unexpected and not one he had an answer for. He hadn’t given proposals any thought before. The opportunity had never come up. Or to be more precise, he’d never met a woman he liked enough to live with, let alone marry. He loved women, with the emphasis on the plural. But settling down with just one? She’d have to be something really special for him to give up all the others.

He shrugged. “Some place like this, I guess. Some place special, where we can be alone. Shall we take a walk?”

They dumped the paper bag in a garbage can and walked along the beach, sipping their sodas. The tide crept in, filling up the tidal pools.

Nina walked with her arms wrapped around herself, his jacket incongruously large on her, dwarfing her curves. He didn’t need to see them to remember those voluptuous curves. He’d spent the handful of weeks they’d worked together admiring them.

She’d gone out of her way to tempt him with them too, not that it had taken much effort. With her throaty, sexy voice, full, red lips and big, dark eyes that could go from a dangerous glint to wide and innocent in a moment, she was temptation personified.

But contrary to popular opinion, he was able to control his impulses. Nina was different from the other women he met. Though she batted her eyelashes at him, same as every other woman, she didn’t look at him like he was an object. And if he was honest with himself, it terrified him.

He was okay with being objectified. He didn’t mind that most women only wanted him for his body. Their low expectations were easy to satisfy.

He wasn’t sure Nina would be satisfied.

They strolled in silence and he left her alone with her thoughts as he enjoyed the stillness and the soothing tumble of the breakers on the shore.

One thing in Nina’s favor: she didn’t feel the incessant need to talk. With most women in Hollywood there was only one thing that made them stop talking. Admittedly, then they were usually moaning his name instead.