Her Determined Husband

That role had launched her new career in style. The show had been a major success and the critics had loved her. Although it had only been scheduled to run for four months, they had extended it to six. And, on her return to LA, it had opened doors for her into the acting world.

‘So the only reason you went into acting was because you wanted a challenge?’

Why was he continuing to question her? Kirsten wondered angrily. It was none of his business why she had turned away from her career as a recording artist. ‘Yes, something like that,’ she murmured. She was damned if she was going to tell him that because of her dodgy agent she’d had no choice but to go into acting.

The waiter interrupted them. He put an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne next to the table and placed two long-stemmed glasses between them.

‘What’s the champagne for?’ Kirsten eyed it apprehensively, as if it were a bomb waiting to go off.

‘I’ve no idea.’ Cal shrugged. ‘Rest assured I didn’t order it.’

‘With the compliments of Mr Gerry Woods,’ the waiter informed them both with a polite smile. ‘Would you like me to pour it now, sir?’ he asked into the silence.

‘No, thanks, I’ll pour it,’ Cal said.

As the waiter hovered, waiting for them to order their food, Kirsten hurriedly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw.

Why was her agent sending them champagne? she wondered as they were left alone again. This was getting out of hand.

‘Look, Cal, I’m asking you nicely. Please tell the studio you won’t be available for this movie after all.’ She hoped there was no hint in her tone of the desperation she was suddenly feeling. She needed this part. It would be the first really decent money she had earned in ages, and she had worked very hard to get here. Stood in long queues and auditioned several times. By contrast Cal could walk into a part anywhere.

‘I’m sorry, Kirsten, but I can’t do that,’ he replied calmly. ‘I’ve told you, I’ve already signed the contract.’

She watched as he poured sparkling champagne into the flutes and felt helpless. She hated the feeling of not being in control; it made her angry. It brought back memories of her relationship with Cal.

‘Your agent is obviously very happy with the situation…so happy he’s sent champagne. He must know how this is going to do you nothing but favours. Trust me on this.’

‘I’d rather trust a barracuda not to bite,’ she retorted. ‘And for your information I don’t need any favours from you,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m doing very well on my own.’

Cal looked at her across the table. ‘I’m sure you are.’ The quiet way he said those words unnerved her slightly.

Made her wonder if he knew about Robin Chandler and the backlog of bills she was still working her way through.

She looked away. He couldn’t know about that. She had been very careful to tell no one, not even her parents…especially her parents; they would have worried themselves sick. The only people she had confided in were her flatmate, Chloe, and Jason. And they were her best friends, the souls of discretion.

‘And now you are going to do even better,’ he added firmly. ‘Look, Kirsten, this is business, pure and simple. There is nothing personal between us any longer. I don’t see why we should have any problem acting opposite each other. It’s just work.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t for the life of me understand where you are coming from with this panic-stricken “please leave” routine.’

‘I’m not panic-stricken.’ She sat straighter in her chair.

‘So what’s the problem?’

She stared at him and tried to think of a suitable, sensible reply. How was it that Cal always made her feel as if she was the one in the wrong, that she was the unreasonable one? He had a real knack for wrong-footing her.

‘I’ve told you what the problem is.’ She tried to remain firm. ‘Do I have to spell it out in black and white? I don’t want you around.’

‘Do you know what I think?’ He leaned forward across the table and instinctively she leaned back warily.

‘I think you are frightened of me.’

‘Oh, please! Why the hell should I be frightened of you?’ she scoffed.

‘I don’t know, maybe my manly presence upsets you.’

She stared at him and saw the twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. ‘You always did have a warped sense of humour,’ she said tautly. ‘And for your information your manly presence doesn’t cause me a second thought.’

‘That’s not what you used to say.’ His voice was deep and husky and disturbingly sexy. It disturbed a cauldron of emotion that Kirsten very definitely didn’t want stirring.

Kirsten had never been so glad to see a waiter approach in all her life. She looked down at the plate of food that he put before her and tried not to think about Cal’s words. But he was right, of course; there had been a time when he had only to look at her to turn her on.

‘Gerry seems a decent kind of guy,’ Cal continued as he liberally sprinkled his steak with salt.

‘He’s OK.’

‘Better than that other agent you went to after we split up. What was his name…Chandler?’

Kirsten felt her blood pressure rising. ‘Chandler was all right,’ she lied.

‘Really? I heard that a few people in town got their fingers badly burnt by him, and that you did well to get out when you did.’

Trouble was she hadn’t got out soon enough, Kirsten thought as she pushed her food around the plate.

When she said nothing he shrugged. ‘But I could have heard wrong. I’ve been working out of the country for two years, so what would I know.’

‘Yes, what would you know?’ Her voice grated roughly. She hoped that Cal would never find out what an idiot she had been to trust Chandler. She felt foolish enough.

‘I still think you should have gone to that guy who handled Maeve.’

Hasn’t everyone handled Maeve? Kirsten wanted to ask derisively, but bit down on her lip.

‘Maeve is going from strength to strength now.’

The last thing Kirsten wanted to hear was how well Maeve was doing. It inflamed her senses to even think about that woman. ‘Yes, well, Maeve married a powerful director,’ Kirsten couldn’t help remarking tersely. ‘It boils down to the same old adage, doesn’t it…it’s not what you know but who you know that counts? Personally I’d rather stand on my own two feet any day than have to marry for my career.’

‘Well, maybe you’ve never been that hungry,’ Cal said quietly.

‘And Maeve has?’ Kirsten’s tone was brittle.

‘I was talking about being hungry for success…but, seeing as you are asking, yes, Maeve has had tough times.’

A shaft of pain hit through Kirsten. He was still sticking up for Maeve, still in love with her after all this time. She’d have thought that he might have grown tired of waiting in the sidelines for that woman to get a divorce. But it seemed not; the situation must suit them both.

Kirsten had always known that there were people who preferred the thrill of the chase, the illicit affair rather than commitment, but it had come as something of a shock to find that she was married to one of those people. Cal had fooled her totally.

Originally she had felt sorry for Maeve’s husband, Brian; he was a lot older than she was. But she had heard a whisper since that Brian had indulged in his share of affairs himself. Well, good luck to them all, Kirsten thought angrily. It certainly didn’t suit her tastes. She was glad she had walked away from it.

‘Tell me, what part did Maeve play in this film you’ve just finished making in England? Was she the serving wench, or the gold-digger?’

‘You haven’t lost your sense of humour anyway.’ He reached across and refilled her glass.

‘Why are you still so angry with me, Kirsten?’ he asked suddenly, with that quiet, disarming directness that always unnerved her. ‘You divorced me, if you remember, not the other way around.’

Was he serious? She wanted to scream at him in that second. The divorce had been a formality. OK, in a rare flash of gentlemanly behaviour he’d allowed her to file for it. But what choice had she had?

She stared at him, her green eyes shimmering with a kind of mutant dislike. What did he expect? she wondered. After the way he had treated her, what the hell did he expect?

She reached for her champagne. ‘I’m not angry,’ she said coldly. ‘That would mean I gave a damn.’

The champagne left a bitter taste in her mouth, which was strange; champagne had never done that before.

‘You know, Kirsten we were both under a lot of strain two years ago. I don’t think either of us was thinking very clearly.’

The gentleness of his tone made her stomach twist in knots.

‘No couple should ever have to go through what we went through.’

She looked down at her hands and tried to close her ears and her mind to the soft words. If he mentioned the unmentionable she would leave, she told herself. She’d just get up and walk out.

‘When I got to England I tried to ring you several times.’ He changed tack. ‘But you never took my calls.’

‘What was the point?’ She looked up at him, relieved that he wasn’t going to delve into the darker area of their break-up. ‘The day you left our marriage was over.’

She saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes and found herself feeling pleased. Pleased that she could inflict just a tiny proportion of the hurt she had felt back on him. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to have this conversation,’ she told him firmly. ‘I don’t even want to be here.’

‘So I gathered.’ His tone was dry. ‘But we’ve got a lot of filming…a lot of work to get through together. I reckon we could do with calling a truce for a while, don’t you?’

She hesitated.

‘We can’t change the past. We can only go forward and learn from it.’

He sounded so sensible, so mature. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t forgive and forget.

‘What do you say?’ he asked. ‘Shall we put our personal differences aside and work smoothly together?’

What choice did she have? she asked herself dismally. She couldn’t get out of working on the film and he obviously wasn’t going to do the decent thing and walk away from his part in it. So the only thing she could do was to try and at least tolerate his presence; otherwise the next few months were going to be hell. She shrugged. ‘I don’t want to work with you, but I’ve already signed the contract.’

‘So that’s a yes, then?’ he asked sardonically.

‘It’s an I’ll try,’ she said huskily, the words sticking in her throat.

‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to working with you, Kirsten. I’ve read the reviews about your performance on Broadway. They say you’ve got talent.’

‘You don’t need to try to flatter me, Cal,’ she murmured. ‘A healthy respect between us will suffice.’

He raised his champagne glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

She didn’t join him in the toast.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ he asked as she straightened her cutlery on the plate of untouched food.

‘No. I’d like to go,’ she said.

He didn’t argue.

She watched as he summoned a waiter to ask for the bill.

He was probably happy now, thinking that everything was smoothed out between them, thinking that Cal the charmer was victorious again and that they could sweep the past tidily away out of sight. Work could go ahead unimpeded, and that was all Cal really cared about, she thought angrily.

‘So, I’ll see you next week on set,’ he said as she got to her feet.

‘Yes, see you next week.’ She kept her voice light with difficulty. She could be as businesslike as him, she told herself confidently. Cal the charmer would never triumph over her again.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU know I’ve always loved you.’

Kirsten’s voice sounded stiff and unnatural even to her own ears. She glanced down at the script on the kitchen table, and read the line again, but it didn’t sound any better; in fact, it sounded worse.

‘Are you still working on that one line?’ Her flatmate Chloe came in and grinned at her with genuine amusement.

‘This is no laughing matter, Chloe.’ Kirsten glanced at the kitchen clock. ‘I’ve got to leave for the studio in five minutes and I’m still no closer to getting a handle on this part.’

‘You’ll be OK once you get on set. It’s just first-day nerves.’

‘Do you think?’ Kirsten wanted to believe that, but honestly she had never felt as nervous as this before.

‘I know so,’ Chloe smiled. ‘But I think you’d better have a look at this before you leave.’ She slipped a glossy magazine down on top of Kirsten’s script.

‘Are you still buying these gossip rags…?’ Kirsten’s voice trailed off as she looked down and saw a picture of herself and Cal leaving Charlie’s restaurant after their lunch together last week.

The headline read, Is Hollywood heartthrob Cal McCormick getting back together again with his ex-wife?

Kirsten tore her eyes away from the article without reading it. ‘Who the hell took that photograph?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see any reporters outside that restaurant.’

‘Well, you know what they’re like, they were probably hiding up a tree.’ Chloe grinned. ‘Do you want me to read it to you while you get ready?’

‘No, I do not.’ Kirsten pushed it away. ‘I’m ready to go anyway. Hell, I hope my mother hasn’t read that!’

‘Kirsten, half of Hollywood has probably read it. That’s why I thought I’d better show it to you now before you leave. In case anybody says anything.’

‘Thanks, I think.’ Kirsten snatched up her script and her car keys. ‘On that happy note, I had better go,’ she said, sliding dark sunglasses down over her face.

It was only a fifteen-minute drive to the studios. Kirsten flashed her pass to the man on the gate and drove onto the lot with a feeling of doom firmly settled in her stomach. Noticing that the car in the reserved space next to hers had Cal’s name on it didn’t help. He’d probably been here since six this morning, and knew his lines backwards and inside out.

After the fierce heat of the Californian sun it was dark and cool inside the studios. Kirsten made her way to her dressing room and found that the girls from Wardrobe and Hairdressing were already in there.

‘Morning, everyone.’ She tried to smile cheerfully, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, then she noticed the blue negligee hanging alone on the rails. ‘What’s that?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘That’s your costume.’

‘I thought we were doing an outdoor scene today?’

‘Change of plan.’ Mel, the hairdresser, smiled. ‘They’re shooting a bedroom scene instead.’

Kirsten tried to keep her smile firmly in place but she could feel it slipping. This was all she needed on her first morning.

Over an hour later, when Kirsten was left alone in her dressing room, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to persuade herself that a bedroom scene wasn’t such a big deal.

Luckily The Love Child was a light-hearted romantic comedy and the bedroom scenes weren’t too steamy. There was no full nudity, just a lot of provocative kissing and canoodling between her and Cal, who played the part of Jonathan, her partner.

‘But you’re just acting a part,’ Kirsten told her reflection sternly. ‘You’re Helen, not Kirsten, you don’t even look like Kirsten any more.’

It was true that after her session in Hair and Make-up she did look different. Her hair was loose and wilder than usual; it tumbled in a riot of glossy waves over her shoulders. She was wearing a lot of make-up that had been skilfully applied to give her a natural, fresh-faced look, covering the fact that she hadn’t slept well last night. And the sexily provocative full-length blue negligee was something that Kirsten would never have chosen to wear in a million years; it was far too revealing.

‘You can do this,’ she told herself again. The words rang hollowly inside her.

What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered. She had done a bedroom scene in a TV drama last year and hadn’t thought twice about it. But then she had been acting alongside Jason Giles and Jason was a good friend. He’d made her laugh on set and it had all been very relaxed.

She thought about Jason fondly for a moment. They’d first met at a party in Hollywood when she and Cal had still been together. Then by coincidence they had been working on the same show on Broadway in New York and the same TV drama last year. His friendship had helped her through some difficult times in her life. She still saw him regularly; in fact, they were going to a première together at the weekend.

What she needed to do was think about this bedroom scene in the same relaxed way as the one with Jason last year. Why was she finding it so difficult to get into her character?

A picture of Cal’s teasing grin and blue eyes rose in her mind and she felt suddenly sick with nerves again.

Maybe some meditation would help, she thought desperately. Chloe swore by meditation, and she had shown Kirsten how to use it as a method of unwinding.

She glanced at her watch. She had ten minutes before she needed to be on set. Quickly she sat down on the floor and crossed her legs in the lotus position, then, putting her thumb and forefinger together, she closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind and slow her breathing.

That was how Cal found her ten minutes later, sitting in the cramped, confined space between the dressing table and the clothes rails, humming softly under her breath. It was obvious she hadn’t heard him enter the room because she didn’t move or open her eyes.

He took the opportunity to watch her unobserved for a few seconds. She looked very young, probably about twenty-two or-three, yet he knew for a fact that she was thirty-one. She also looked incredibly sexy in the blue negligee. It dipped very provocatively over the full, creamy curve of her breasts and showed the slender lines of her body to perfection.

For a moment he found himself remembering when Kirsten had been his wife. Remembering her warmth and her passion and the hot nights when they had lain entwined in each other’s arms, desire and need raging out of control.

He moved further into the room and her eyes flicked wide open in shocked surprise. ‘What are you doing in here?’ she demanded angrily. ‘How dare you come in without knocking?’

‘I did knock and I thought I heard you say come in.’

‘Well, I didn’t!’ Her eyes moved over him. He was wearing a dark suit that sat well on his broad shoulders and he looked disturbingly handsome, too handsome for any woman’s peace of mind.

But, as her grandma in Yorkshire would have said, handsome is as handsome does…or something along those lines. She tried to keep that fact in mind as she met his amused gaze.

‘If you don’t mind my asking, what the heck are you doing down there on the floor?’ he drawled laconically.

‘I was meditating. Not that it’s any of your business.’

‘I see.’ His lips twitched in amusement. ‘Is it some new acting technique?’

‘It’s to help me relax,’ she said tightly. ‘What do you want, Cal? Or have you just come in here to insult me?’ She ignored his helping hand as she got to her feet.

‘I’d never insult you, Kirsten,’ he said softly, his eye drifting down over the curves of her figure.

Conscious suddenly of her scanty attire, she reached for the silk dressing gown that matched her nightdress and threw it on.

‘I just wanted to ask if you’re OK with this sex scene we’re going to do this morning?’

‘Sex scene?’ She gathered the robe around herself like a shield, and at the same time she felt her throat tighten in alarm. ‘It isn’t a sex scene, Cal.’

‘We are about to get into bed together and your body is going to be pressed tightly against mine as we kiss…amongst other things.’ His voice lowered huskily, his eyes sparked with humour. ‘So what would you like me to call it?’

She tried not to blush or look in the slightest bit uncomfortable. ‘What do you mean…amongst what other things?’ she asked and despite her best efforts she knew she sounded rattled. ‘It’s a bedroom scene, Cal; sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no sex in the film at all.’

‘Isn’t there?’ He frowned. ‘That’s disappointing. And it’s not what our esteemed director Theodore Tradaski was telling me a few moments ago.’

Kirsten tried to remain calm. He was just winding her up. ‘It’s one kiss, Cal, and I shall have to grit my teeth in order to bear even that much.’

To Kirsten’s consternation, Cal didn’t seem to be put out by her words. ‘Good! I like a challenge to my acting skills. We’ll see how long you manage to resist my charms, then, shall we?’

‘What does that mean?’ Her eyes narrowed warily.

‘I think you know what it means,’ he murmured. ‘You pretend to grit your teeth and hate me and I’ll do what I was always good at and turn you on.’

‘You are insufferable sometimes, do you know that?’ she told him heatedly, trying not to look as mortified by his crass remarks as she felt.

‘Only sometimes?’ he asked in mock disappointment.

Someone knocked on the door behind him. ‘A bouquet of flowers has arrived for you, Kirsten,’ a voice called cheerfully.

Cal turned and stepped out of the door. One of the stage-hands was outside; she was practically hidden behind an enormous bouquet of red roses.

‘Oh, Mr McCormick, I didn’t realise you were in here,’ she gushed, her voice filled with a kind of reverence that made Kirsten feel nauseous.

‘It’s OK, I was just leaving.’ Cal’s eyes flicked over the bouquet. ‘Who are the flowers from?’ he asked casually.

Much to Kirsten’s consternation, the woman opened the card that accompanied the flowers. ‘They’re from Jason Giles.’ she told him eagerly. ‘The message reads…’

Kirsten started to move to take the flowers away from her but she wasn’t quick enough.

‘…“Break a leg, Kirsty, I know you’ll be terrific. I look forward to our date on Saturday at the première.”’ The woman smiled up at Cal. ‘Oh, and he’s put some little kisses on the bottom.’

‘Excuse me!’ Kirsten whipped the bouquet from the stunned woman’s hands. ‘That’s a private card!’

‘Oh, sorry!’ The woman pulled a face and then caught Cal’s eye and blushed and grinned at him in a conspiring way.

As the woman bustled back down the corridor—probably to tell the whole of the set what was written on her flowers, Kirsten thought in annoyance—Cal lingered in the doorway. ‘Little kisses on the bottom?’ he drawled mockingly.

‘That card was none of your business—’

‘I can’t believe that Jason Giles is still hanging hopefully around you,’ Cal continued with a frown. ‘Why don’t you put him out of his misery and get rid of him?’

‘Because I don’t want to get rid of him,’ she told him tersely. ‘Jason and I are very close.’

‘Really?’ He gave her a very disdainful look.

‘Yes…really.’ She supposed she was exaggerating. Jason was just a friend. But she did value his friendship; it had helped keep her together after her divorce.

‘So how long has he been giving you these little kisses on the bottom, then?’ Cal drawled wryly. ‘Did it start on Broadway or as soon as I vacated the marital home?’

‘Don’t judge everyone by your own low standards,’ she told him heatedly.

‘Oh, come on, Kirsten! From what I’ve heard, the sheets had barely cooled on our bed before he was around knocking on your door.’

‘Jason came around to offer his moral support. He’s a wonderful person and I resent the distasteful implications in that statement.’

‘You’re certainly very protective of him. You must have it bad.’

‘Go to hell, Cal.’ She slammed the door shut.

It was only when the door closed that it suddenly dawned on Kirsten that Cal was fully dressed in his suit. They were supposed to be shooting a bedroom scene in a few minutes, so how come she was the only one dressed for bed? She glanced again at her watch. He should at least be wandering around in a dressing gown by now.

Maybe he was such a big star now that he didn’t care if he was late on set? Maybe he intended to keep them all waiting? She frowned; that didn’t sound like the Cal she remembered. Back in the days when they had been married, he had always had a thing about being punctual, and used to hate it if she was even a couple of minutes late for anything. Of course, he hadn’t been such a phenomenally big star back then—moderately successful…but nothing more. Maybe all this mega-stardom had gone to his head.