A Modern Cinderella

After a few steps he asked, ‘You want to see inside?’

Nodding, she threw another smile his way.

So Will took them to the nearest open doorway and stepped back, setting her hand free to allow her to go ahead of him. ‘Some have a room like this they can dress to be any kind of store they want, but most of the buildings only go back a couple of feet from the frontage.’

Cassidy turned a circle in the empty space, tilting her head back to look up at the skeletal structure of wood and ladders. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of that same wood warmed by the Californian heat outside, and it was all too easy to see why there were so many fire extinguishers around. The danger of fire would always be a worry for a studio. The whole place would go up like a tinderbox, wouldn’t it?

‘When they dress the room they put in a false ceiling and leave space to hang the lighting. If you look outside you’ll see there aren’t any door handles or streetlights; they get changed by the props department according to the era of the shoot…’

Drinking in every word, she felt her chest fill with what felt distinctly like joy. It had been such a long time since she’d felt that way. She could have wept with how wonderful everything was. To some it might have seemed false and empty, a charade—but not to her. To her it was a world full of possibilities…

Will’s deep voice lowered until it was barely above a whisper, making Cassidy wonder for a moment if he’d even realised he’d spoken out loud. ‘Yeah, I had a feeling you’d love this.’

Lowering her chin, she caught her breath when she realised how close he was to her. There was the beginning of a smile in the green of his eyes, and the accompanying warmth she could see seemed to reach out and wrap around her like a blanket on a winter’s night. Then his gaze studied each of her eyes in turn, thick lashes flickering.

The intensity forced Cassidy to silently clear her throat before she could speak. ‘I do. It’s amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.’

Will studied her for another long moment that made her feel as if time stood still. Then he took a breath and looked around, shrugging wide shoulders beneath the pale blue shirt he wore loose over his jeans. ‘Sometimes seeing where movies are made can help with the writing process. Anything that can be filmed on a back lot or on a stage saves money on the budget. Studios like that.’

It all came down to business for him, didn’t it? He saw everything in terms of the bottom dollar. Another thing that was different. Yes, Cassidy knew it was part of his job—but it was yet another reminder that he wasn’t the same Will Ryan she had known. In the last twenty-four hours she had actually convinced herself she’d seen brief glimpses of the old Will she had loved. But every time she thought she saw something in him that might help rebuild the merest shadow of the relationship they once had—and would therefore make it easier to remember how well they could work together—it was as if a switch flipped inside him. Then the Will she didn’t know and couldn’t read was back.

It was both disconcerting and frustrating. For a second she even wanted to grasp hold of his wide shoulders and shake him, demand that he let out the Will she knew from behind the impenetrable wall he seemed to have built around himself.

‘I guess you have to worry more about that kind of stuff these days?’

‘I do.’ He wandered around the empty room, glancing briefly out through the windows clouded almost opaque with dust. ‘It’s one thing letting your imagination run riot in a script, but it’s another producing something all the way through onto the screen.’

Cassidy nodded, her gaze following him around the room. He was practically prowling. Almost restless, silently alert, his steps taking him in a wide circle around her. His gaze slid unerringly to tangle with hers at regular intervals, and it felt as if he was assessing her, trying to decide what to say and what not to. It felt vaguely predatory to her. But that was ridiculous…

Finding her mouth dry again, she swallowed, and then dampened her lips before asking, ‘So tell me what your company does.’

Pushing his hands into his pockets—a move Cassidy noticed he made a lot—Will continued circling her. ‘We’re responsible for the development and physical production of films and television shows. Sometimes we’re directly responsible for the raising of funding for a production—sometimes we do it through an intermediary. Then we sell the end product to the big studios when it’s done.’

‘You script some of them yourself?’

‘Some, yes.’

‘Is it easier to sell your scripts if you can produce them?’

‘Not always.’ The corners of his mouth tugged wryly.

He was so guarded. Had Hollywood taught him to be that way? she wondered. It was a tough industry, after all. The fact he’d been successful in it meant he’d had to learn to play hard ball at some point. But then Will had always been driven. He’d had a rougher upbringing than most. To go from fostercare kid, handed from home to home, to end up rich and successful in Hollywood was one heck of an achievement. Surely he knew that?

As jealous as she was of his success, in practically every corner of his life in comparison to how very ordinarily hers had turned out, Cassidy was incredibly proud of him. She just wished she could tell him. Not that he wanted or needed to hear it.

‘One of our productions is filming on one of the sound stages here. You want to go watch for a while?’

It was enough to put the smile back on her face. ‘Can we?’

Will looked amused by her enthusiasm. ‘Wouldn’t have offered if we couldn’t, would I?’

Oh, he could try and make her feel like a child for being so excited by everything he was showing her, but it wasn’t going to stop her feeling that way. She rushed to the door and yanked it open to walk into the bright sunshine, jerking her head and grinning at him. ‘Hurry up, then. We might miss some of the good stuff.’

An hour later she was sitting on a high folding chair, with her hands over the headphones on her ears, watching the small screen in front of her and listening to the dialogue from the actors mere feet from her. She wasn’t even distracted by the fact Will was in a similar chair close beside her—or that every time she glanced at him he was watching her with silent amusement glowing in his eyes. In fact the only thing that took some of the excitement away was when she foolishly allowed reality to seep in around the edges of the experience.

It was a one-off experience for her—and no matter how much joy she felt, it was tainted by the fact it was another fleeting glance of what could have been. Had she been brave enough or selfish enough to leave Ireland behind her, follow the man she loved to California, her life could have been as wrapped up in the world of make-believe as Will’s was. With luck, hard work and Will by her side, maybe she’d have made a go of it too. She could have been so happy. Maybe there would even have been a couple of those miniature Wills she kept seeing in her mind’s eye running around that beachfront house of his by now…

The thought made her heart twist painfully in her chest.

When the director yelled ‘Cut!’ she removed the headphones and swallowed away the lump in her throat as she handed them back to the sound engineer. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ He smiled at her before moving away.

Will’s low voice rumbled at her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. Thanks again for this, Will—it’s been amazing.’ She flashed him a smile.

But he could still read her too well, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. ‘Feeling sick again?’

Actually, she’d pretty much forgotten the tail-end of her cold as the day progressed, so she could answer that one with conviction. ‘No. I’m feeling much better, as it happens—haven’t even needed tablets.’

He continued studying her eyes. ‘Then what is it?’

If she lied and said she was tired there was the chance he might suggest they leave—if he didn’t see right through her the way he usually did when she lied—and she wasn’t ready to leave yet. It wasn’t as if she could tell him the truth, was it? How was she supposed to look him in the eye and tell him her active imagination had painted a picture of a life that wasn’t hers so vividly that it made her feel the loss of it like a bereavement?

So she avoided his gaze and changed the subject. ‘Is this a new show?’

‘End of the first season. It’s done well in the ratings. Already been renewed.’ He waited for her to glance at him again before he added, ‘We’ll go take a look at the editing department next. Special effects are done somewhere else.’

Cassidy found herself mesmerised by the softness in his deep voice. And her errant tongue couldn’t help but ask, ‘Why are you doing this?’

Dark brows lifted in question.

‘I thought you were mad keen to get the script done.’

He shrugged. ‘Thought it might help.’

When he continued looking her straight in the eye, Cassidy had a moment of fear that he might know how much of a fraud she was. Was that what this whole behind-the-scenes day trip was? A way to try and get her creative juices flowing again? In fairness, it was a pretty great plan if that had been his aim. But if it had how, exactly, had he known? Had she been so transparent? Had the scenes she’d worked on with him been so dreadful in Hollywood terms? If they had, why hadn’t he said so? If he knew what a phoney she was why hadn’t he said something? Bringing her all the way across the world to allow her to make a fool of herself when in all probability he could more than likely have just bought her out of the contract…

‘You were always as fascinated by this stuff as I was.’ He stared into her eyes for another long moment, then looked away, turning his profile to her as he got to his feet. ‘Seeing it should keep it real in your mind while we work on the script. And if we can cut a few corners by filming some scenes here instead of on location then we can free up some of the budget for better effects.’

Ah. Right. Business. That made more sense to her than him doing it because he knew how much she would love it. It put her mind at ease that he hadn’t seen right through her charade. She didn’t feel any better, though—it would have been nice if he’d cared enough to do it just because he knew the pleasure she would get from it.

But then Will Ryan had long since ceased to think of Cassidy in terms of anything remotely resembling the word ‘pleasure’—physically or otherwise…

She nodded firmly and edged off the seat. ‘Editing department it is, then.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THEY’D spent most of the day at the studio, so it meant they had to spend the next few days digging in. To Cassidy’s amazement it was going pretty well, all things considered.

Will’s guided tour had indeed given her an extra dimension of insight to the logistics of each scene they came up with, and—even though she knew he hadn’t intended it—it had also got her creative juices flowing. When they started getting words down on paper she felt as if she was getting a part of herself back again. It was exhilarating, and it boosted her self-confidence no end. Heck, she was even starting to have fun.

That would be the reason she would cite later for not having seen the danger coming her way before it arrived. Because if she’d been paying more attention…

When they couldn’t agree on what should happen at the end of an action scene, Will came up with the idea that they read the lines aloud. Nothing unusual about that, she had thought at the time. It wasn’t anything new, after all. When they had worked on the first of Nick Fortune’s adventures they’d often acted out a scene before they’d even put words down, and sometimes they’d become so absorbed in the roles they were playing that it had added a dimension to the fictional characters they might never have thought of otherwise.

But back then they’d had a very different relationship. And it never occurred to Cassidy to take that into consideration when they got to their feet with their matching sheets of script in hand, hot from the printer.

Nick and Rachel had got themselves into trouble, and had been arguing about whose fault it was they were in the mess they were. They were minutes away from being tossed off the edge of a cliff by armed terrorists…

‘“I suppose you’re going to kill us now?” That’s what you asked them? Why didn’t you just offer to shoot us too?’ said Will as Nick.

‘Oooohhh,’ laughed Cassidy as Rachel. ‘Believe me if I had a gun right now I’d be more than happy to shoot you!’

She grinned when Will changed his voice to read one of the terrorists’ lines. ‘Would you two shut up? You’ve got about five minutes to make your peace.’ He threw her an all too brief smile before jerking his chin at her to indicate it was her line.

Cassidy lifted her sheet and tried to find where they were. ‘Just make sure he goes first. He’s the one that got us into this mess.’

‘Me? I’m not the one who screamed and gave away our position!’

‘That spider was the size of Moby Dick!’ Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh again at the line. She loved that line. It was her line; she’d thought of it. She was back! What had made her think she couldn’t do this again?

Will became Will again. ‘Which brings us to the part under debate…’

The original idea had been to have Nick and Rachel fight their way out of the situation by distracting the terrorists with increased arguing. Cassidy had wanted it to be Rachel’s idea; funnily enough Will had wanted it to be Nick’s. Will suggested Nick should wink at Rachel, to let her know what he was doing. Cassidy said Rachel was too mad at him to play along with anything he came up with.

Suddenly Will looked at her, with a gaze that made her heart jump out of rhythm.

‘What?’ she asked a little breathlessly.

‘I have an idea.’ He stepped closer. ‘Play along.’

Cassidy turned her head and eyed him with suspicion. ‘What are you doing?’

‘They get to the edge of the cliff. They’re still arguing. Guns at their backs.’

‘Uh-huh…And then…?’

Something dangerous shimmered across Will’s eyes as he closed the gap between them, his deep voice lowering to a husky-edged rumble. ‘Then, just before they’re pushed over the edge, Nick asks for a last request for a dying man…’

‘And that request would be…?’

Will smiled that smile and knocked her on her ear again. ‘He asks to kiss Rachel.’

Cassidy’s eyes widened. ‘He what?’

‘Just for the record, her face looks exactly like yours does right now…’

Somewhere in the foggy haze of her completely distracted brain Cassidy knew it would ramp up the scene to a new level, but that wasn’t what made her heart thunder loudly in her ears and her body temperature rise. No. It was the fact that Will was staring down at her with a darkening gaze.

He wasn’t seriously going to—?

Thick dark lashes lowered slowly as he took the last step to bring his body within inches of hers. And as she swayed a little on her feet he angled his head, his gaze lowering to focus on her mouth. Oh, God. He was. But why? He couldn’t—

Cassidy’s lips reached for his of their own volition when he was less than an inch away, like a flower lifting towards the sun. His mouth was full and firm and hotter than she remembered from the hundreds of times she’d kissed him before, but no less familiar. When his large hands framed her face, she took a deep breath through her nose. When he leaned into her she exhaled against his lips, her heavy eyelids closing…

If anyone had told her a month ago that some time in the very near future Will Ryan would be kissing her again, and she would be feeling it in every cell in her body, she’d have laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the notion. But he was—and she did.

It was surreal. And at the same time it was like coming home.

Long fingers slid down her cheeks, around her neck and into her hair. The taste of him was on her lips and the heady scent of clean laundry and pure Will was surrounding her. Cassidy forgot about the script, forgot about the fact they were playing the part of Nick and Rachel, forgot about the danger in what they were doing. She forgot all those things.

Instead she dropped her sheet of paper and reached for handfuls of the shirt above his lean waist, while he slipped a hand up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers threading into her hair as Cassidy drowned in the sensations flooding her body.

She’d missed kissing him. How she’d missed it. It was as if her body had been asleep like Snow White’s, and only now, with the right man, was she being kissed back into life. But then no one had ever kissed her like Will kissed her. He could make the world tilt on its axis beneath her feet. Always. From the very first time he’d kissed her. He’d caught her similarly off-guard as they’d walked over the O’Connell Street Bridge in Dublin, after taking photographs of possible locations for a short film they’d been working on for their class. With no warning he had taken her hand, tugged her to him and kissed her. Because he had to, he had told her afterwards. As if it had been as vital to him as breathing or drinking water, or any of the other things a person had to do to survive…

When he slowly drew his lips from hers, her mouth followed his back for the inch she’d closed, her eyes opening wide and searching his with a combination of wonder and fear.

After a brief moment of studying her with a dark unreadable gaze, Will rested his cheek against hers, whispering into her ear in a husky voice, ‘Then Nick says, “You take the one on the left”.’

Cassidy’s heart plummeted to the soles of her feet.

Will released her and stepped back, turning abruptly and informing her in a flat, businesslike voice, ‘That works better. So, we’ll add that in and jump straight to the fight and the chase scene…’

‘Right.’ Cassidy nodded dumbly while she tried to get her breathing under control. The script. Nick and Rachel. Not Will and Cassidy. That was what the kiss had been about. He hadn’t kissed her because he’d wanted to. He’d just forgotten they didn’t have the same relationship now they’d had before when they would have played out similar Nick and Rachel scenes—apparently.

Bending down to retrieve the sheets of paper on the floor, she took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. She could only pray he wasn’t planning on acting out the love scene they had planned for Scene Three…

She didn’t think she could survive Will Ryan breaking her heart twice in one lifetime. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d got over the first time.

The kiss changed things. At least it did for Cassidy. She tried not to let it, but she couldn’t stop it—partly because she couldn’t seem to get it out of her head…

What she needed to do was focus on what they were doing. Heck, at this point she would even take a stab at rebuilding some kind of platonic friendship with Will. After all, she had to work across a desk from him every day. How was she supposed to do any of those things if every time she looked at him she was thinking about how it had felt to be kissed by him and to kiss him back? Why was she so obsessed by it anyway? It wasn’t as if she’d kissed him back because she’d wanted to—at least she told herself it wasn’t. She’d been playing a part, the same way he had, thinking on her feet, reacting to what he’d done—that was all. It didn’t mean anything.

Darn it, he was looking at her again. She could feel it. Every time he did it the hair on the back of her neck tingled.

‘Stir crazy?’

She kept pacing around the room, the same way she had for most of the two days since they’d kissed. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ his voice rumbled back. ‘All that pacing is making me crazy.’ Will sighed heavily. ‘You’re not used to sharing space with someone these days, are you? I never pictured you as that much of a loner…’

Cassidy stopped dead in her tracks and angled her head. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Lived with someone else after me, did you?’

Her jaw dropped. What business was it of his who she had or hadn’t lived with? She could have lived with twenty men. Not that she had lived with anyone else, barring the time she’d lived in her father’s house while he was ill. But that wasn’t the point.

A few times over the years she’d considered advertising for a flatmate, but by then she’d got used to having her own space. Living on her own, she didn’t have to worry about someone else’s opinions on things like what TV channel to watch, or how loud she could play music, or any of a dozen other compromises a person made when they shared living space.

‘Compromises…’

Cassidy frowned when he said the very thing she’d just thought—as if he’d somehow stepped inside her head. ‘What?’

‘I said living with someone involves compromises.’

‘It does.’ She nodded. ‘And forced intimacy…’

‘Shared responsibilities…’

When he looked up at her she turned away and began pacing again, the words quietly slipping off the tip of her tongue. ‘Never being alone.’

She frowned sideways at him when she said it, confusion clouding her vision as he studied her with a curious expression that almost said he suspected why she’d been so uneasy with him of late. She hoped he didn’t! But while he continued staring at her there was an inexplicably heavy tension in the room.

Her chin lifted. ‘Okay. Fine. You’re right—all are things I suck royally at. Barring the last one. I excel at being alone these days—it’s what I do best.’

‘Cass…’ He kept his voice low. ‘Living with someone is nothing like what we’re doing now. You know that. And being alone isn’t—’

‘Of course it’s nothing like this. This is artificial. And temporary.’ Cassidy tried to figure out why that felt so bad and couldn’t seem to find an answer. Maybe being alone for so long had affected her more than she’d realized? She started pacing again. ‘This isn’t sharing space. It’s temporary. A charade.’

‘A charade?’ he repeated dryly.

She glanced sideways at him again as she changed direction. ‘Oh, come on. It’s miraculous enough that we’ve managed to work together this last while…’

‘We shared space before and it was never this much of a problem…’ Will reached for his mug and frowned when he discovered it was empty. ‘You want coffee?’

He didn’t wait for an answer, reaching across the large desk for her empty mug and pushing his squeaky chair back. ‘I don’t think this has anything to do with sharing space with me. I think trying to keep me at arm’s length is starting to take its toll on you.’

When he left the room her feet immediately followed him. ‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’

‘I think you know what it means.’

How dared he assume he knew her every thought? Just because nine times out of ten he was in the ballpark area, it didn’t mean he could read her damn mind.

She followed him across the living room. ‘So if I’m not throwing myself at you it means I’m fighting some inner battle, does it? How do you get that head of yours through doors?’

Setting their mugs down on the breakfast bar, Will went about refilling the coffee-maker, replacing the filter and spooning in coffee granules. ‘Doesn’t have anything to do with throwing yourself at me. You’re determined not to allow yourself to even be friends with me again. It’s childish, frankly. We’re both adults.’

Placing her hands on her hips, she stopped dead at one end of the breakfast bar, speechless.

With the coffee set to percolate, Will turned around, leaning nonchalantly against the counter-top on the opposite side of the kitchen from her and calmly folding his arms across the studio logo on his T-shirt. ‘You’re different. The Cass I met in the Beverly Wilshire just over a week ago isn’t the girl I knew in Dublin. The girl I knew in Dublin was open-minded and honest to the point of bluntness, and she would never have let something brood in her the way you have since you got here. So let’s just clear the air and get it over with, shall we?’