Chapter Two

As soon as Maya had slammed the door behind her, Roarke wilted in his seat. He laid his head on the desk and took deep breaths to regain his composure. Had he really just done that? How had he done that? Apparently, his long-ago acting lessons had stayed with him, more so than he ever would have imagined.

He pushed away from the desk to walk over to the glass wall of his office that looked down on the sound stage below, where a crew was in the middle of shooting Wilder Hearts. He leaned against it and stared at the bustle below him.

How he missed it. It was the first movie to carry his name that he wasn’t directing, but his brother had wanted a shot. Roarke grimaced as the actors turned away from the camera to do half of their scene before anyone realized it was the wrong angle. Maybe he should pull Lenny out of the project.

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass and sighed. Mom would rake him over the coals if he didn’t give his little brother a proper chance or if he stepped in now. She wouldn’t understand that they were already a month behind in schedule and a few million over the projected cost. A smile teased his firm lips as he imagined what she would say if he told her that. “What’s more important? Money and schedules, or your brother’s confidence?”

His conscience pricked him and forced his thoughts from his family to what he had just done. He felt guilty, especially as he remembered the tears in her eyes. Why had she been so put off by the idea? He wasn’t a gargoyle, by any means. Women occasionally fell at his feet. There was a lump in his throat brought on by disappointment. What had he expected? Her unqualified joy? Had he imagined she would eagerly drape herself, spread-eagle, across his desk? Dream on. She was an engaged woman.

The best thing to do would be to release her. Maybe tell her it was all a joke. His eyes fell on the script on his desk. Playing His Game had been the inspiration for today’s meeting. Hell, it had been the only way he could finally engineer a meeting with her at all. Her beauty had mesmerized him on the two occasions she had been on the set before today. He had asked around about her, but no one knew anything. Each day, he held his breath as he waited for her to reappear. When she came on the set today, he had been determined to act on the opportunity.

He was distracted once again as her face popped into his mind. Maya was even more beautiful than he had thought when he saw her for the first time from the view his second-floor office provided. She had been somewhat different in person though. For starters, she was about five-four, which was shorter than he had guessed. Her breasts were a nice surprise—firm and lush, and larger than he would have expected judging from the rest of her stature. They were just a bit more than a handful. Perfect.

Roarke stroked his goatee as he recalled her finely drawn features, straight nose, and sweeping cheekbones. Brown freckles adorned the bridge of her nose and swept across her cheeks to whisper secrets in her shell-like ears. How he longed to be those freckles.

Yes, guilt weighed heavily on him, but the anticipation over their first meeting already dimmed the annoying prick of his conscience. She was his to play with, although he didn’t want to hurt her. She honestly believed he could keep Bobby from working again, so she would do whatever he asked. Roarke fought down a flush of embarrassment at the lie he had told. He had power, but not that much.

He fell into fantasizing about their first encounter before abruptly realizing the condo was still on the market and completely bare of furniture. He hadn’t really believed it would work, and so he hadn’t prepared a plan. The script called for the playboy to arrange weekly meetings in a hotel room he owned for the convenience of his myriad trysts. Having no suite in reserve, Roarke had impulsively settled for the next best thing. The keys to the condo he’d had on the market for over a month had been conveniently nearby, to his relief.

Unfortunately, because of a lack of preparation, he only had three days to get everything in place. He temporarily put a hold on the delicious erotic images parading through his mind to focus on practical matters. After all, they couldn’t play the game without props.