“Just because I wasn’t consulted before you were brought on board, don’t think for a second that I haven’t verified you can actually pull this off. This film is my responsibility, and Rebecca falls outside your known range.”

Cait’s jaw tightened. Oh, he’d hit a nerve with that one.

She recovered quickly, though. She always did. She stood and stepped away from the bench before turning on him. “You know, if you spent more time actually working, and less time playing beach blanket bingo in Europe, you might not have to find out what’s happening with your own projects after the fact.”

The disdain in her voice chased off any desire he’d had to play nice. Where did Cait get off, acting all high and mighty? “So you’ve been keeping up with my love-life? That’s kind of … sad, actually.”

“Oh, please. Would you get over yourself? The last thing I care about is who you’re sleeping with now. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. And, believe me, it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with you.”

Dear Reader

Writing this letter to you makes me quite sad, as it means that my time with the Marshall family has come to an end. There’s always a little twinge of that every time I say goodbye to characters—by this point in the process I’ve spent so much time with them that it’s hard to let them go. But the Marshall brothers have been with me for three books now—almost a year of my life—and I’m feeling this loss a little harder than usual.

I adore all three Marshall brothers equally, but Finn holds a special place in my heart. He’s the black sheep, the wild child, the one no one really understands but everyone can’t help but love. While these traits are part of what makes Finn so irresistible, they also made it hard for me to figure out who his heroine would be. She couldn’t be your average girl-next-door. Finn needed a heroine who wouldn’t be overly impressed by his fame and fortune, or fazed by his fast-lane celebrity lifestyle. She had to be able to keep up, and connect with him personally and professionally. Cait met all my criteria nicely—and brought the sparks into this story!

I hope you enjoy Finn and Cait’s adventure, and that the Marshall brothers have been as much fun for you to read about as they were for me to write.

All my best

Kimberly

About the Author

KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily-ever-after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

Recent titles by the same author:

THE POWER AND THE GLORY

Kimberly also writes for Mills & Boon® RIVA™. Her titles include:

THE PRIVILEGED AND THE DAMNED

GIRLS’ GUIDE TO FLIRTING WITH DANGER

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Redemption of
a Hollywood
Starlet

Kimberly Lang

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Happy first birthday to James,

my gorgeous, brilliant and sweet nephew.

I have every confidence that

you will grow up to be a hero.

CHAPTER ONE

HE’D only been gone for three weeks. When he’d left, everything for this film had been fine and in place, but a mere twenty-one days later he’d returned to find the entire project sliding into hell.

Finn Marshall sat back in his chair in the trailer that served as their temporary offices while they were on location here in Maryland and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was jetlagged and had hoped to have a couple of hours of sleep before he had to be in D.C. for the fundraiser tonight, but that wasn’t looking to be in his cards. He had to sort out this God-awful mess first, and the more he heard, the less likely it seemed he’d even make it to his brother’s in time to shower first.

Dolby Martin, his partner in Dolfinn Pictures, seemed remarkably upbeat for someone who had just rammed the Titanic into the iceberg. “We’ve been filming for a week now, and we’re almost back on schedule.”

Finn took a deep breath and tried to remember it would do no good at all to punch Dolby in the mouth. “And you saw no reason to tell me any of this while it was unfolding?”

“You needed to concentrate on getting us those permissions to shoot, and really there was nothing you could do from Monaco, anyway.”

“I could have talked Cindy down.”

“After Farrell told her he’d seen better acting in low-budget porn? Sorry, Finn, not even you could have charmed that snake back into the basket.” Dolby shrugged. “Personally, though, I wasn’t sad to see her go. I’ll bet Cindy’s in rehab before the premiere, and would you really want that hanging over the release?”

Dolby had a point, as much as Finn hated to admit it. Cindy had been perfect for the part of Rebecca: the right looks and a strong talent, coupled with a name guaranteed to get attention without overshadowing the leads. She’d sworn that she was clean the day they’d signed the contract, but he’d seen this story too many times before.

Maybe it was for the best. Technically, Dolby and the director had done the right thing, finding a replacement quickly and getting her on the next plane to Baltimore so that production was not shut down for long. On a professional level, Finn should be pleased. He should even be personally touched that Dolby understood the importance of this film to him and had reacted quickly to mitigate the damages. But Cait Reese? He shook his head. Focus on what’s important.

“Caitlyn has been a real life-saver and a complete pro. She had her script memorized in days and jumped straight into rehearsals. Wait until you see what we have in the can already. She’s perfect for Rebecca. Better than Cindy, even.”

Finn didn’t necessarily agree. The Cait he remembered was too primal and wild. She’d been able to channel that into light frothy characters, but the earthy, quiet strength of Rebecca? It had been three years, but …

“Trust me, Finn. You’re going to be really pleased.”

“If you honestly believed that, you wouldn’t have signed her to Folly behind my back.” He picked up his phone and scrolled through the voice mail messages. “Naomi is fit to be tied. You want to hear?”

“I’ve heard enough, thanks. Naomi doesn’t want to share her spotlight with anyone. She’s a real diva.”

“That’s a privilege she’s earned and one we’ll tolerate to keep her happy on this film.”

Naomi Harte was one of the biggest names in Hollywood right now, and based on star power alone she had no reason to worry about anyone stealing any of her limelight. But this was personal for Naomi, too. She and Cait had launched at about the same time, and their rivalry went back to the years when they’d both still been playing teenagers in high-school romantic comedies and slasher films. Cait had always managed to stay a rung above Naomi on the ladder, though, her trajectory seemingly unstoppable until she’d flamed out so spectacularly. Many people said that Naomi wouldn’t be where she was today if Cait hadn’t left town when she had—and Naomi knew that. They were probably right.

“You know there’s bad blood between Naomi and Cait. Did you intend to turn the set into a battlefield?”

Dolby snickered. “It’s actually working out well. Naomi’s real-life problems with Caitlyn make their on-screen animosity even more realistic.”

“And Cait?” She wasn’t one to keep her mouth closed or her opinions to herself.

“Is being far more adult about this. Caitlyn has been very up front about her desire to re-create herself and relaunch her career. Folly is the perfect vehicle for her return, and she’s not too proud to admit that.”

Folly might be perfect for Cait, but Cait might not be perfect for Folly. He wasn’t in the business of providing starlets with second chances. Especially with a project like Folly. He had too much invested—professionally and personally—to let this become some kind of experiment.

“I’m still not sure Cait is the smart choice here.”

“I gave Farrell full directorly discretion to find the right person for the role and make sure it was someone he could tolerate. Caitlyn was his choice, and unless she decides she wants out of her contract we’re bound.” Dolby shook his head in censure. “I’m not courting her parents’ wrath because you don’t want your ex on the set. I like my career, thanks very much.”

Talk about having the tables turned. All his life he’d been the one no one wanted to cross out of fear of retaliation from his family. That was simply one of the perks of being a Marshall. But the Marshalls ruled the East Coast. In L.A., John Reese and Margaret Fields-Reese were the sitting monarchy. It wasn’t false pride or ego to say that he was pretty damn influential in the business, but even he couldn’t touch the power of Cait’s parents. One day, maybe, but not today.

“Anyway,” Dolby continued, “all reports indicate that Caitlyn is sober and stable now.”

Caitlyn had never had a problem—beyond partying a little too hard—and he wasn’t one to throw stones there. The press had just played it up until she’d looked like a good candidate for rehab in order to sell papers. She’d been all but set up to crash if she slipped even the tiniest bit. “I’m sure she is, but that won’t stop the press from going insane with this.”

Dolby’s grin didn’t help Finn’s mood much. “The buzz is amazing. Between the return of the exiled princess and the possibility of a Naomi-Caitlyn catfight, everyone is talking about Folly already.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dolby laughed. “You have to admit the possibility of a Finn and Caitlyn reunion will make all kinds of headlines.”

“Which is exactly why you should have consulted me before you signed her.”

“If we have to avoid your exes every time we try to cast a film, pretty soon there won’t be an actress under thirty available to us.”

But Cait wasn’t just any ex. She was the one ex that made all his other exes look like good choices. The bitterness surprised him. “I don’t want my personal life making more news than this project.”

That sobered Dolby. “Folly will stand on its own.”

Dolby was an idiot occasionally, but he, too, took pride in Dolfinn’s reputation. The Folly of the Fury might be Finn’s pet project, but Dolby was committed one hundred percent.

“I know it will, but since we just stepped into soap-opera-waiting-to-happen territory, I want everyone crystal-clear in their understanding of what will and won’t fly around here. All the drama needs to be kept on camera.”

“Agreed.”

Finn sincerely hoped it would be that simple.

Caitlyn Reese breathed the humid night air deep into her lungs as the door swung shut behind her and the noise and lights of the party inside died as if she’d hit a mute button. She’d done well in there—she knew that—but she needed a few moments of relief from the stress of the evening. Looking around, she was happy to see that the terrace was deserted—not that she was surprised. Between the heat and the fact that anybody who was anyone was inside … The air-conditioning inside was almost worth the noise, but she crossed to the balustrade, anyway, and leaned against it as she exhaled.

She chuckled to herself when she realized her hands weren’t quite steady. She’d been mingling at cocktail parties since before she could walk, so there was no real reason to let a simple fundraiser—regardless of the prestige of the guest list—to give her stage fright. And the crowd was friendly enough. Whatever they might think of her personally, no one was stupid enough to do anything that might limit their access to her parents and her parents’ friends. There was way too much Hollywood money they’d like to see in their campaign coffers at stake for anyone to treat her with anything other than friendly respect.

Maybe a D.C. charity fundraiser peopled by the city’s social register was exactly the right place for her to make her first official reappearance. Her plan was working out better than hoped for. She wanted to call someone and share her success, but she wasn’t exactly close with anyone on this continent anymore, and it was the middle of the night in London. Her parents both happened to have releases this month, so they were on their respective junkets and she had no idea what their schedules were like. Even if she did have someone to call, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. My career may not be dead anymore? Oh, well. She shrugged and smiled. She was still proud of herself.

“Miss Reese?”

Caitlyn turned to see that she wasn’t alone now. The tall blond man she’d been speaking to earlier was approaching her with a cautious smile on his face. She racked her brain for his name. He worked for one of the congressmen, and he was a big fan of her parents’ work, knew all of her movies … Bits of their conversation came back to her, but not his name. He’d been a little over-enthusiastic, bordering on creepy, and the fact they were now quite alone didn’t sit well.

Be nice, but not too nice. “Hi, again.”

“I saw you leaving.” His forehead crinkled in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just needed a little air. It’s a little crowded in there.”

He nodded. “It’s a good turnout, so that’s good for the fundraising part. But it does make it hard to really talk to people.” The man stepped a little closer than was comfortable. Caitlyn eased back a step herself. “And I very much enjoyed talking to you.”

She nodded slightly, not wanting to encourage him with anything more.

“In fact, I’d like to take you to dinner so we can get to know each other better.”

Caitlyn kept her face neutral even as alarm bells began to clang faintly. Don’t overreact. Give him the benefit of the doubt. She took another step back, anyway. “My schedule is quite tight, I’m afraid.”

“How about tonight, then, since you’re already here. There’s a nice bistro not far away …”

She shook her head. This shouldn’t be happening here. The guest list was very exclusive and supposedly kept situations like this from even coming up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

He was not to be deterred by the gentle brush-off, though. Maybe she was overreacting, but the alarm bells rang louder as he leaned closer and she smelled the alcohol on his breath.

“Then we’ll talk here.”

“Actually, I was just about to go back inside when you caught me.” She picked up her purse and indicated they should walk. “Shall we?”

“Miss Reese …” He didn’t take the hint, so she moved past him. “Caitlyn, wait, damn it.”

She was two steps past him when he caught her arm and tried to stop her with a too-tight-to-be-casual grip. At that moment he crossed the line. Her training kicked in, and a second later he was on his knees whimpering in pain from the way Caitlyn had his fingers pulled back. “Do not touch me. We don’t know each other well enough for that, so it’s quite rude.”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

She tightened her grip just enough to make him gasp and understand that she was serious. “That’s not going to happen. You’re going to go back inside so that I don’t have to have you arrested for assault and make a scene in front of all those people.”

At his nod of assent she released his fingers and he flexed his fingers experimentally. “No need to be such a bitch about it.”

This was not what she’d signed on for tonight. “Go away. I’m done talking to you.” She stepped away and pinned him with a stare that hopefully would convince him she meant business. The adrenaline pumping through her system left her shaky but energized.

“Caitlyn …”

“I think Cait was very clear in her instructions. I suggest you do as you were told.”

The voice hit her like a brick wall. Her stomach sank at the same time electricity sizzled up her spine. Damn, damn, damn. This was not how she’d planned on seeing him again.

Maybe it wasn’t him. It had been three years; she’d probably just confused his voice with a stranger’s. She’d been tense about seeing him, and her mind was surely just playing tricks on her. Because anything else would just be really unfair. Holding on to that hope, Caitlyn looked over her shoulder as the owner of the voice emerged from the shadows.

Finn.

Great. What had she done to karma to deserve this? She just seemed destined to have Finn a part of all the times of her life she’d just like to forget.

At least Finn wouldn’t blab about what he’d just witnessed to the papers. It was a small consolation, and Caitlyn grabbed on to it like a life raft in the swirl of emotions and memories that low, rich voice stirred up.

She could tell the guy—she still couldn’t remember his name—recognized Finn, which wasn’t surprising since Finn garnered almost as much press as the stars in the films he produced. And, of course, everyone on the planet knew about her past with Finn. The double whammy for her admirer, though, had to come from Finn’s family ties: smart people didn’t make enemies of the Marshalls. Especially if they wanted any kind of future in politics. They were simply too powerful a family to mess with.

But this guy, proving again he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, got belligerent instead. “This is a private conversation, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I mind.” Disdain dripped off Finn’s words.

The men sized each other up, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but do the same. She hadn’t exactly forgotten Finn—how could she?—but reality was slapping her in the face now. Finn could give his leading men a run for their money when it came to heartthrob status. He had strong, aristocratic features made less harsh by a deep tan earned from his love of all things outdoors. His dark blond hair had sun-bleached lighter streaks, and, as always, it had that casual windblown look that all men who weren’t Finn had to work hard to achieve. The dim light made it hard to see the color of his eyes, but she knew how their deep green could suck a girl in and melt her insides.

Finn had a good four inches in height on her admirer and, while both men were lean, he looked athletic and strong even in his suit. He might have the bluest of blue blood in his veins, but he had an edge that belied the DNA—not enough to make him look out of place in the throng of political and social elite inside, but it certainly set him apart.

It made the red-faced young man look ridiculous even trying to match up. He just fell short all the way around.

And his scowl was nothing compared to Finn’s.

Which brought her nicely back to the real problem at hand. Finn had an odd gallant streak when it came to damsels in distress. At the right time it could be endearing—sweet, even—but this was not the right time for Finn to channel his inner caveman.

“I distinctly heard Cait tell you she was done talking. Do you really need to resort to assault?”

What’s-his-name bristled visibly. Lord, the man was too stupid to realize the danger lurking behind Finn’s controlled cadence. She knew better, though, and launched into damage control before this got worse. “That was just a—”

“I know what that was, Cait,” Finn snapped. He took her arm and moved her a few feet farther away, putting himself between her and the man like a bodyguard. He looked her up and down, then asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

“She’s fine,” the other man answered testily. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

Finn’s green eyes flicked in his direction. He obviously wasn’t impressed with the man. “I didn’t ask you.”

He puffed up like a blowfish and Finn squared his shoulders. With all the testosterone in the air, this was about to get ugly.

Caitlyn cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Finn, thanks. And I would like us to all go our separate ways now so that this just remains between the three of us. There’s a lot of press and a lot of people inside who don’t need to be party to this.”

Finn’s eyes narrowed as he looked her over. “Are you sure?”

She nodded and saw Finn un-bow his shoulders a little bit as he released her arm. “Fine. No sense embarrassing you unnecessarily.”

Thank goodness. “I’d appreciate that.”

He turned to the other man, who seemed to get younger and weaker-looking as each second ticked by. “Go.”

He shot them both a dirty look, then stalked away. She heard the noise of the crowd inside as the door opened, and then silence, blissful silence, broken only by the sound of the traffic on DuPont Circle, settled over the balcony again.

Caitlyn moved to sit on the bench against the balustrade and sighed as she pushed her hair back from her face. She needed a minute to get herself back together. First that guy, then Finn … It was all a little too much to process in such a short time.

“What the hell were you thinking, Cait?”

The heat in his voice hit her like a slap across the face. “Excuse me?”

Finn stood in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest. She could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. “What were you doing out here alone? Where’s the damn security?”

How dare he jump on her over this? She gritted her teeth to hold her temper in check. “They’re probably inside with everyone else—which is kind of the point, because I wanted a moment alone.”

“Have you lost your mind? You don’t get to decide to be ‘alone’ in a place like this.”

“A place like this? It’s a cocktail party, Finn, not a drug den. A ‘place like this’ should be the one place I can grab a minute to myself without worry.”

Finn didn’t seem to hear her. He was too busy glaring. “Then when some guy assaults you you try to arm wrestle him yourself instead of calling for help?”

“Like anyone would have heard me inside even if I did.” Finn’s eyes narrowed and the thin thread holding her temper snapped. Anger surged through her. “I didn’t want to make a scene. And you’ll please note I had the situation under control just fine before you even made your entrance.” She lifted her chin. “If you want to play the hero, you might want to work on your timing.”

He frowned. “You should know better.”

“Why do you care?”

Finn’s eyebrows went up, but before he could answer a door opened and three people came out to the balcony. They passed without speaking, but Caitlyn felt her face flush, anyway. She did not need to be seen in a shouting match with Finn. The list of things she didn’t need was growing longer each day. Maybe signing on to this project wasn’t the best idea, after all.

No. Folly is perfect. It’s a gift, so don’t screw it up. And, since Finn was running this project, she’d have to swallow her anger and pride and act like a professional.

Caitlyn forced herself to smile. “However, I appreciate your concern and will keep your warnings in mind for the future.”

There. That was the proper thing to say to set the right tone for their future working relationship. She was pleased she’d made the effort. The look on Finn’s face was just a bonus.

She thought he might be about to say something more, but Finn just shrugged, a signature movement showing that this was no longer worth his time. “So, who was that guy, anyway?”

She looked around. While more people had drifted onto the terrace, no one seemed to be paying them undue attention. She had to quit worrying so much about that. There was nothing attention-worthy about her and Finn speaking together. They had to: they were coworkers, colleagues working on Folly. There was nothing remotely scandalous about the two of them talking.

At a respectable distance from each other, of course.

“I don’t know his name. All I really know is that he’s a fan of the whole Reese clan and that he works for someone in Congress.” The eyebrow that went up told her that Finn would be able to provide a name shortly, and she almost felt a touch of sympathy for the young man. “We spoke briefly inside. Obviously that wasn’t enough for him.”

“Obviously.”

“I think he’s had a couple of drinks, and we all do stupid things after we’ve had a couple of drinks, you know.” Finn seemed to agree to that with a minuscule tilt of his head, and she blew out her breath in a long sigh.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, Finn, really. It was a surprise, but that’s all. I appreciate your rescue, but I doubt he would have pressed it much further. I probably just overreacted. Either way, I think I managed to convince him that I’m serious.”

Finn chuckled and the sound rolled over her like a remembered caress. “If not, he’s amazingly dense. Nice moves, by the way.”

“Thanks. After that thing with Mom’s stalker two years ago, she and Dad made me take some self-defense classes and work with a trainer. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to put it to the test, though. Things were different in London. Fewer people knew who I was, so the weirdo potential was way down. It was a wake-up call I probably needed.”

“Hell of a way to be welcomed home.”

She swallowed as Finn came to sit next to her. There was still a respectable distance separating them, but that didn’t stop her heart-rate from jumping up a notch. Speaking of being welcomed home … She’d thought about this moment a thousand times, planned a million witty and clever things to say that would put their past behind them, show she’d moved on and had her career firmly back on track. All those clever words eluded her now, damn it. But she had to say something or else look like an idiot.

She looked around, appreciating the dim quiet of the terrace and the view of D.C. beyond. A full moon topped the Washington Monument like a candle flame. “Beautiful view.” Well, that wasn’t exactly inspired.

Based on the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Finn agreed with that assessment. “Indeed.”

“This is my first time in D.C., believe it or not. I’m hoping to have some time to do a little sightseeing.”

“If you want tours of the Capitol or the White House let Liz know. She can call my father’s office and get it arranged for you.”

She swallowed her shock. Finn rarely acknowledged his paternity, so the casual mention of Senator Marshall came straight from left field. Or maybe Finn and his father were on better terms now. Things could have changed. “I appreciate that.”

This all seemed so normal. Two people sitting on a terrace, chatting. But it wasn’t normal. This was Finn, and the proverbial gorilla sat between them, so the situation made her jumpy instead. Finn, though, seemed to be willing to ignore the past—or at least pretend that they were friendly strangers—so she was enough of an adult to do the same. If he wasn’t going to bring it up, she should just thank her lucky stars and do the same.

“I didn’t expect you to be here tonight.” That was only partly true. She’d known there was a chance he’d be here; Dolfinn Pictures supported the summer camp program, after all. Because of that, the cast of Folly had come in an attempt to bring more attention to the fundraiser. But Finn normally avoided D.C. like the plague, and he’d been in Monaco for the last three weeks. Donor or not, the chances of him showing up had been slim. This kind of event wasn’t Finn’s idea of a good time. His scene was still more club than cocktail.

“Well, I have to put in an occasional appearance at things to keep the Grands happy.”

Finn’s grandmother sat on the board, and both she and her husband, the legendary Senator Marshall, were here tonight. Porter Marshall had held the office for decades before retiring and handing it over to his son, Finn’s father.

The former senator was far more personable than Caitlyn had expected, and when she’d learned this evening that The Folly of the Fury was his favorite book, they’d had a lovely conversation about the importance of the book and character of Rebecca. Mrs. Marshall, though … That had been a slightly uncomfortable moment: although they’d never met at the time, Regina Marshall obviously recognized Caitlyn’s name from before. While she hadn’t been anything other than polite, Caitlyn had the sneaking feeling she was on probation with the regal matriarch of this powerful family.

Which was fine, because Caitlyn had no intention of screwing this up.

She had way too much on the line.

CHAPTER TWO

CAIT was acting strangely, which didn’t make sense—or bode well for future work on Folly.

He’d sought her out tonight intentionally, wanting to get a clear-eyed assessment of who she was these days and whether or not she was going to make filming a personal hell for him. Dolby was the one who’d pointed him toward the terrace. The scene he’d walked in on, though …

He’d recognized the situation immediately for what it was, but hadn’t known it was Cait until she’d had the man on his knees crying for mercy. He’d recognized her voice before the man even said her name—he’d had that irritated, clipped tone directed at him too many times to forget it. Then the details had hit him all at once: that coppery-blond hair that had kept hairdressers in business recreating the color on an entire generation of women, those long legs showcased by her signature stilettos, even the newly acquired curve of her hips that showed she wasn’t starving herself anymore to fit the starlet mold.

The shock of seeing her had delayed his reaction time, and it had been over before he’d recovered. That was bad enough, but his physical reaction at seeing Cait again didn’t sit well on top of everything else, and he’d let his anger loose on her. It was only his pride that had had him pulling it together to carry on a normal conversation.

Because he was not going to let Cait wreak her special blend of havoc on his life again. He’d learned his lesson there. He would keep this casual and professional if it killed him. He could be the bigger person.

“Are you ready to go back in?”

Cait seemed to be thinking very hard about a seemingly simple question. Finally, she shook her head. “Not just yet. I think I need another minute to cool down some and get myself together.”

“It might have been fun to watch you break his fingers, though.”

She seemed to consider that. “No. There are too many witnesses in there, too many cameras.” She shrugged casually, but there was a wry smile of resignation on her face. “I don’t need that kind of publicity this soon. Plus, it’s tacky to start a fistfight at a cocktail party. Believe it or not, I was raised better than that.”

At least her humor seemed to be returning. It was a longstanding joke between them: was the child of Hollywood royalty expected to behave better or worse than a child from political royalty? Using only the tabloids as their judge and jury, they’d never been able to come to a definitive answer as to how high or low the expectations really were.

And they’d certainly tested those expectations. Repeatedly.

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “I could hit him for you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s kind of you—and tempting—but I’m going to think positive thoughts that he’s learned his lesson. The funny thing is that I think that might have been more about my folks than me. He seemed pretty interested in their political leanings and pet causes.”

He understood now. Cait’s connections—and all that Hollywood money—could be very valuable to an aspiring politician, and that guy had “congressional wannabe” written all over him. “Welcome back to the business.”

She shot him a pissy look. “I never totally left, you know. Just because I haven’t been working in Hollywood, it doesn’t mean I haven’t been working.”

“On the stage. It’s hardly the same thing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t start. I’m not going to get into that argument with you.” She seemed to catch herself and her face cleared, and a wickedly innocent smile took the place of irritation. “But I’m rather flattered to hear that you’ve been keeping up with my career. That’s rather sweet. I had no idea you cared.”

Her tone rankled. There was no way he was going to let her go there. “Just because I wasn’t consulted before you were brought on board, don’t think for a second that I haven’t verified you can actually pull this off. This film is my responsibility, and Rebecca falls outside your known range.”

Cait’s jaw tightened. Oh, he’d hit a nerve with that one.

She recovered quickly, though. She always did. She stood and stepped away from the bench before turning on him. “You know, if you spent more time actually working, and less time playing beach blanket bingo in Europe, you might not have to find out what’s happening with your own projects after the fact.”

The disdain in her voice chased off any desire he’d had to play nice. Where did Cait get off acting all high and mighty? “So you’ve been keeping up with my love life? That’s kind of … sad, actually.”

“Oh, please. Would you get over yourself? The last thing I care about is who you’re sleeping with now. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. I want my career back.”

He started to answer, but stopped short as a thought crystallized. Cait had been out of the spotlight for years; she wasn’t exactly a hot commodity at the moment—famous parents or not. Folly was a great place to prove her skills, but it wouldn’t do much to restore her to the fame and glory she’d once called her “birthright.” Hadn’t he and Dolby just discussed the headline possibilities today? A bad feeling crept over him. Maybe that was part of her plan. What better way to make the cover of every magazine and have her name on everyone’s lips than to work that very Finn-and-Caitlyn angle he’d just laid plans to avoid.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. It seems like a hell of a good way to make your comeback with a bang, doesn’t it?”

He hadn’t thought it would be possible for Cait to get any stiffer, but she did. With her arms crossed over her chest, she lifted her chin again until she was practically looking down her nose at him—something she could only do while he was seated.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Being within fifty feet of me assures you every headline you want, doesn’t it?” With a casualness he didn’t really feel, but would grate on Cait’s nerves regardless, he leaned back against the railing and stacked his hands behind his head. “Once upon a time, you claimed I was good for your Q Score. Looking for a second bite of the apple, Caity?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your ego is simply unbelievable, Finn. Believe it or not, this is not about you. In fact, the very last thing I need—or want—is the kind of headlines you bring. I’ve grown up, worked damn hard to improve my craft and cleaned up my image. I take my job seriously.” She eyed him with something he could only call distaste. “Since you can’t say the same, why don’t you just go back to Monaco until this is in the can? That would be very helpful for my comeback.”

Oh, he’d definitely hit a nerve. Anger flushed her cheeks, and she gripped her tiny purse until her knuckles turned white.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an early call in the morning and should probably get some sleep.” With that, she stalked away, head held high, and wrenched open the door to the ballroom to disappear inside.

Cait still liked to get the last word. Blaming him and storming off in a huff was her usual M.O., so that much hadn’t changed. It was practically a repeat of that last night at his place. Everything had been his fault. Never hers.

He, however, had to think about bigger issues than Cait’s temper. Too many people were involved in Folly. Money and reputations were at stake. And he would not let Granddad’s glee at having Folly made be dampened by Cait and her possible dramatics. He would keep this project in line even if he had to kill people to get it done.

Finn gave himself a hard mental shake. He had to be rational about this. In the long run, Cait might prove to be a good choice for Folly. If she could pull off Rebecca, her name and potential star power could boost Folly’s box office revenues and award chances.

That didn’t mean it was going to be less of a hellish mess in the meantime, though.

Caitlyn closed her door against the heat and spread her arms to embrace the icy chill of the air-conditioned trailer. Yesterday she’d neglected to crank the thermostat down before she left and had come back to a trailer almost as hot as the outdoors. But today … Bliss, cool bliss.

Her sweaty skin felt better almost immediately, and she peeled off the dress sticking to her back and hung it in the closet. Another thing she loved about this role: the fashions of the Forties were flattering and feminine and made it easy to really embrace Rebecca’s character. In this heat, she was very glad Folly wasn’t set in an era where she’d have to wear corsets and mountainous dresses. If so, she’d be battling heatstroke about now.

In just her underwear, she went to the fridge for a bottle of water. She left the door open while she took a drink, letting the cool air from inside wash over her.

She’d been in London too long, gotten used to what they amusingly called “summer” and forgotten how stinking hot and humid summer could really be in some parts of the country.

Walter Farrell had been an assistant director under her father for many years, and had learned his philosophy about authenticity from the master. Like her father, Walter felt being in a similar setting—like this insufferable heat and humidity—would help the actors really connect with the characters, but Cait was rapidly developing sympathy for all the actors who’d worked with her father. Especially on that one film set in the jungle …

But, honestly, she didn’t care how much she sweated for this part. Caitlyn lay back on her small couch and fanned her face with her script. It wasn’t false pride or inflated ego to say that this was possibly the best performance of her life. She was working with a stellar cast, Hollywood’s best director—or at least second-best, she amended out of filial loyalty—and a crew that blew her away.

This was the life and the career she was supposed to have. It had just taken her a while to find the right path. She’d been given her second chance, and the only thing that really mattered was where she went from here.

She’d risk that heatstroke happily.

The only fly in her happy ointment was Finn. The rational pep talks she’d given herself about being an adult and leaving things in the past had turned to gibberish within just a few minutes of actually seeing him. It hadn’t been her finest moment, that was for sure, but what had she really expected? The last time she’d seen him, she’d been hurt and angry, hurling ridiculous accusations at him because she hadn’t been able to analyze, much less articulate, what she was really feeling.

She yawned and closed her eyes. Makeup had had a hard time covering the bags under her eyes this morning. She’d intended to call her mom today, but a nap seemed a more prudent use of her time since she still had several hours of filming to do tonight.

A 5:00 a.m. alarm was never fun, but she’d spent a good portion of the night staring at the ceiling as she tried to sort through the morass of conflicting emotions caused by seeing Finn. Of course the few hours she’d managed to finally sleep had been haunted by dreams that left her restless. Dreams of Finn.

Damn him for being so tactless. Why couldn’t he be like normal people and politely ignore topics best left to die? Oh, no … He had to bring up personal junk in a professional situation.

And that was what she wanted to avoid at all costs. If she could, she’d give the entire planet amnesia so everyone would completely forget what had happened three years ago.

Too bad she couldn’t give herself amnesia as well.

Good times, bad times … They weren’t really classifiable as either. They were just “Finn Times”—fun and exciting at the time, but in retrospect not the wisest of choices and not an experience she’d like to repeat.

The residual tingle from last night’s dreams rather belied those thoughts, but Caitlyn purposefully pushed those aside. Finn was tempting—very tempting—but she couldn’t risk everything she’d worked for. Eyes on the prize.

But she would have to come to some kind of understanding with Finn. She’d accept her fair share of the blame, but that didn’t mean she could just forgive and forget. Until last night she’d thought she was over it, but it hadn’t taken long for all the old hurt to come rushing back.

Damn him.

She’d had more than her fair share of failed relationships—both before and after Finn—so why did Finn alone have the power to make her hurt?

Wallowing in the past would get her nowhere. She had to concentrate on now. Ignoring each other or acting hostile would be just as likely to attract attention and gossip. She could get through this …

A knock interrupted her drowsy thoughts. So much for that nap. She called, “Come in!” and reached for her water bottle.

“Stunning outfit, Cait.”

Her eyes flew open in surprise, confirming that Finn was, indeed, in her trailer, and it took a second for the meaning of his words to actually register. Once they did … Damn it. Face hot, Caitlyn jumped up from the couch and grabbed the robe hanging on the bathroom door. Keeping her back to him, she shoved her arms through the sleeves. Granted, the old-fashioned underwear covered more than her bathing suit normally did, but that didn’t change the fact she was wearing nothing but underwear and Finn was in her trailer. Kill me now.

She took extra time tying the belt to give herself a chance to regain her composure, but the chuckle coming from behind her didn’t help. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m afraid to ask who you were expecting, then.”

She refused to dignify that with a response. “Can I help you with something, Finn?”

“I thought we should talk.” Finn dropped a stack of papers on the table before crossing to the fridge and looking inside. Her hackles went up at his nonchalant attitude.

“Fine. If you’ll just wait outside, I’ll get some clothes on—”

An eyebrow went up. “No need to be so modest, you know.” It’s nothing I haven’t seen before hung in the air. That knowledge didn’t help her much at all. But then, Finn had probably seen so many women naked in his life maybe he’d have difficulty remembering exactly which bits were hers.

Not that she was having any trouble remembering his. Her skin heated. Oh, he was decently enough dressed today, in jeans and a simple black tee that fit snugly against his body, but memories of what lay under those clothes …

“Regardless, I’d rather you wait outside and we go somewhere to talk.”

Finn pulled a bottle out and offered it to her. When she shook her head, he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Then he sat instead of leaving. She had to wonder if he was being difficult intentionally.

“Why can’t we talk here? It’s hot out there.”

She pulled the robe tighter across her chest and wished it covered a bit more thigh. “I’d rather not.”

Finn’s exasperated look was almost funny. “What is with you, Caity?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be seen meeting privately in my trailer. It’s … inappropriate and might be misconstrued.” Ugh, she sounded like a virgin schoolteacher.

Finn’s look said the same thing. “You’re not serious?”

“As you helpfully noted last night, my being within fifty feet of you will be enough to send the paparazzi into a frenzy. I’d rather not give them more to feed on.” She went to the closet and grabbed jeans and tee shirt and waited for him to leave.

Finn ignored the hint, so she frowned at him to make her point. He gave her a look that questioned her mental stability instead, so she took her clothes to the bathroom and closed the door to get dressed.

“I’m afraid it won’t take even that much,” he called through the door.

“Exactly,” she shouted back. “As soon as we’re seen together—however innocent it may be—all those old, embarrassing pictures of us are going to resurface. I can’t live all that down as old news if there’s speculation there’s new news.”

Now decent, she came out and opened the shades on every window, giving anyone who walked by a clear view of what was going on inside. She’d have opened the door, but that would have just let the heat in. She wasn’t willing to go that far. Propriety would just have to be served by open shades.

As she took her seat on the far side of the table, Finn snorted. “You’re taking this a little far, don’t you think?”

“I’m just cautious. You may not give a damn about appearances, but I do.”

“How kind of you to worry about me.” The smirk told her he was deliberately misinterpreting her words.

“Only to the extent that your reputation will impugn mine. I think we’ve proved that you can raise hell and people will still respect you, but I can’t. It’s a horrible double standard, so I’ve worked very, very hard to clean up my act.” She picked up her water and drank deeply. After two disastrous starts, she really needed to bring her interactions with Finn back to the business they had in common. And only that. “So, what brings you by, Finn?”

He chuckled, and it put her on guard. “That very topic, actually.”

“Your reputation?”

“Paparazzi, speculation, new news …”

That was odd. Those were the top three things Finn normally didn’t even deign to give five minutes of his time to. He really didn’t care about tabloid gossip.

A warning tingled up her spine, but she forced her face to remain merely curious and clasped her hands together to keep them still. “Okay.”

“After meeting with Dolby and Farrell this morning, we’ve decided to close the set for the rest of filming. Considering our past, they agreed it might be disruptive or distracting to have to worry about uncontrolled press for the next five weeks.”

She held up a hand. “Wait.” Barring any disasters, they’d be finished filming here by then. They shouldn’t have to close the set permanently unless … Damn. She tried to keep her voice just this side of mildly curious. “You’re not going back to L.A.?”

“No. Dolby will head back with the second unit tomorrow.”

A headache began to form behind her right eye. “But why?”

“Because.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but there was only silence. The man could be so unbelievably frustrating. She rubbed her temples. Ugh. “So you’ll be here through the end?”

“Yep. Do you have a problem with that?” he challenged.

“No,” she lied. She had a big problem with that. Multiple big problems. You’re an actress. You’ll just have to act like it’s not a problem. “Do you?”

Finn looked completely unconcerned. In fact, he seemed to be biting back a smile. “Not at all.”

“Okay, then.” She took a deep breath. She, too, could play this game. “I’m glad you closed the set. I’d like to concentrate on my job. Not worrying about the press will make that easier. For all of us,” she added.

“Unfortunately we’re a little late for that.”

That warning tingle took on an unpleasant sharp edge. As Finn pulled a couple of pieces of paper out of the stack and pushed them toward her, that edge cut deep into her skin.

Pictures printed from a blog. Oh, no. Caitlyn’s stomach sank. He first thought was that some blogger had already dug up old pictures of her dancing on tables and being carried out of bars by Finn. Or, even worse, that one picture of her and Finn on his motorcycle, her skirt hiked up too far and Finn’s hand …

She didn’t recognize the pictures, but the relief that flooded in was short-lived. There had been witnesses last night, after all. Damn. A picture of Finn and that guy staring each other down, another of her and Finn sitting on the bench, and another of her walking away, anger written across her face and irritation stamped on Finn’s. She didn’t need to read the accompanying text to add to the ill feeling rolling through her stomach.

“Already? Geez.”

“I’d say welcome back, but—”

“I’d have to kill you if you did.” Caitlyn took a deep breath and blew it out. “Are you sure you can’t swap things around and go back to L.A.? Just let me get this film done without dealing with that kind of garbage?”

“No. And it would only postpone the inevitable, anyway.” He looked at her oddly. “I mean, you do plan to move back to L.A. and start working again, right?”

“That’s the plan. I’d hoped to have Folly under my belt, though, first. Something for people to talk about other than just my past.”

His eyes widened. “So you really don’t want that kind of publicity?”

Finally something she’d said was sinking in. “God, no.”

“It made you a household name.”

That reminder was unnecessary. She’d spent the last three years trying to change that association. “And it nearly destroyed me—personally as well as professionally.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t think it was that bad.”

The heat had made her grouchy, he’d given her a headache, she hadn’t slept well, and this entire day was now sucking with the strength of a black hole.

She lost her grip on her temper. “Well, you aren’t widely known for your thinking skills, you know,” she snapped.

Finn didn’t bite back, and his cocky smile made her want to smack him. “Admit it. We had a good time.”

Not even under the pain of torture would she admit that. It didn’t matter now. She forced herself to keep her face neutral. “That was a long time ago. I’m not that girl anymore.”

“What a pity.” He smirked and took another drink.

Her jaw tightened so much it ached. I will not take the bait. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. Why, she didn’t quite know—other than his perverse sense of humor. She took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll just solider through, then. You’re right that I’ll eventually have to face it, so I might as well start now.” She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “You do your job and I’ll do mine, and the ensuing boring lack of anything tabloid-worthy will set me up for a return to respectability. And when this film does well I should be solidly set.”

“I watched yesterday’s rushes. They’re great. Really powerful stuff from you.”

The compliment came out of nowhere, shocking her into silence while at the same time warming her. More than it really should. It made her slightly suspicious, too. Finn had always been quick with compliments on her appearance or a new dress, but never anything deeper.

“Thank you. Rebecca is a wonderful character. My mom even said she wishes she was thirty years younger so she could have read for the part.”

Finn met her eyes over the table. “I can honestly say that, given the choice between you and your mother to be Rebecca, I’d choose you.”

Shock and disbelief warred with a strange swelling in her chest. There was nothing he could have said that would have meant more to her, and she knew he knew it. The suspicion sharpened, but while Finn might be glib occasionally, he was also brutally, unflinchingly honest when it came to the business. The air felt weighty after his statement, and the silence between them was thick.

Caitlyn managed to find her breath and shrug casually. “But after Cindy Burke, of course.”

Finn’s lips twitched. Then, with a speed that had her rushing to catch up, he turned very businesslike. “There have been a few tweaks made to the schedule. As you know, we’re a bit behind, and don’t want this to drag on forever. There are some long days ahead.”

She nodded.

“We’d also like for you to make a few more appearances to drum up publicity in the right places.”

The cautious edge to his voice jerked her eyes to his. “With you?”

“God, no. I said the right places.”

Caitlyn would have been relieved if not for the horror in Finn’s voice. So much for any warm, fuzzy feelings he might have stirred up. Or any other equally warm, yet not at all fuzzy ones, either. She glanced at the list Finn passed her.

One name was conspicuously absent. “And Naomi?”

“Naomi has her own schedule and agenda.”

She leaned back and sighed. This was juvenile high-school stuff on Naomi’s part. “In other words she doesn’t want to share her headlines. Especially with me. She never did.”

“Naomi isn’t stupid. She has a career to protect.”

“Like I could do any damage to her. Like I ever did. The only person I dragged down was me.”

“But you still managed to overshadow her.”

“For all the wrong reasons, it seems.” She shrugged. “But, you know, I crashed and burned, and she got what she wanted. I don’t know why she carries a grudge.”

That eyebrow went up again. “And you don’t?”

There was more than one way to interpret that statement, and Caitlyn didn’t want to get dragged back into a discussion of them. She chose to go with the subject of Naomi. “No. Naomi thinks this is a zero-sum game. She doesn’t think there’s room for us both in the papers. I know that’s not the case.”

A second, closer look at the schedule sent a chill down her spine. “What in the hell is this about?”

Finn shrugged. “The PR people want to shift attention from just you to you and Jason. Maybe get a couple of folks questioning whether you two are becoming a couple. It will shift focus nicely away from us.” His lips twitched. “And a romance blooming on the set with your on-screen love is a perfect way to kill two birds.”

Ugh. Was she destined to have to make a name for herself based on who she was—or supposedly was—dating? While Naomi got to keep the attention on the project and her role? It was degrading. It left a really bad taste in her mouth. “That’s a cheap ploy.”

If Finn didn’t stop shrugging in that who-gives-a-damn? way she might strangle him. As it was, she was grinding her teeth into a pulp to keep from shouting at him to stop.

“But you know it works.”

But Jason Elkins? He was a good actor—a big box-office draw—and they worked well together on camera but she didn’t like him all that much. He was a little too egotistical and not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

She bit back each of the dozen comments she wanted to make about where they could stick this grand publicity plan. She had dues to pay again, and it seemed her penance wasn’t quite over, after all. “Fine. I’m a team player. Whatever’s best for the project.”

“Smart girl.”

She stood and reached for her shoes. “Don’t patronize me, Finn.”

“I wasn’t.”

He seemed sincere and Cait felt a bit bad. She was just too jumpy around him, ready to go straight to Worst Possible Meaning.

“Those were honest words from a friend.”

Something icky rolled into her chest and brought a dull pain with it. Caitlyn chose her words carefully. “We were many things to each other, Finn, but I don’t think we were ever really friends. Now we’re colleagues, and there’s no reason why we should be enemies, but I don’t think we can be friends, either.”

Finn’s face was impassive, but she recognized the look in those green eyes. She hadn’t hurt him with her words—past experience had proved he was impossible to hurt—but he was disappointed. Whether in her or her words or his own inability to charm her, she didn’t know. She’d last seen that look three years ago as she’d walked out his door.

“I’m going to go get something to eat before I have to get back to Wardrobe. I’ll see you around.”

With that, she left him in her trailer and forced herself to walk calmly across the lot with a smile on her face. She even managed to make small talk with the crew as she grabbed a sandwich. She was proud of herself. Not for the way she’d left things with Finn—that had actually left a strange hollow feeling in her stomach—but for the fact she’d held her ground and set her boundaries.

But now that he wasn’t right in front of her, all the old confusion and hurt—and, okay, she’d admit there was some residual desire and memories of good times and old feelings mixed in there as well—were rolling around inside.

So while she’d claimed hunger, she couldn’t find her appetite.

As she sat in the makeup chair, she closed her eyes and tried to connect to the feelings so she could channel them into Rebecca later. When Martha started on her hair she opened her eyes and concentrated on acting as if everything was just fine. Normal. Same as yesterday.

Martha chatted and told jokes and Caitlyn laughed in all the right places.

Maybe she was a good actress, after all.

CHAPTER THREE

FINN didn’t need to watch the filming—in fact, he probably shouldn’t, since Farrell was notoriously temperamental and quick to bite when he felt his directorial turf was being trod on—but something drew him tonight whether he liked it or not.

Cait’s parting shot bothered him. Oh, he’d been well aware before that she was carrying some kind of grudge against him—which was totally undeserved, because he wasn’t the bastard in this situation. He wasn’t the one who’d walked out.

So she wanted someone to blame? For what? It nearly destroyed me—personally and professionally. That did explain a lot of the shouting the night she’d left. He’d known she was starting to get a bit of backlash from their adventures, but “personal” hadn’t come into it.

Or so he’d thought.

He’d chalked it up to overreaction from not getting the chance to read for that part she’d wanted in some film, and expected her to be back after she’d calmed down. The next thing he’d heard, she was in London.

She’d left the damn country without even saying goodbye. That still left a bad taste in his mouth.

London had changed her; she wasn’t that fun-loving free spirit she’d been back then. She looked the same—he ignored the memory of the flash of heat that had moved over him when he’d walked into her trailer and found her dozing on the couch in just her underwear—but she wasn’t the same. This new Cait was reserved, careful and locked down tighter than a maiden aunt—and equally disapproving. Every now and then she’d let something slip that made him think she was merely pretending to be someone new, but the mask always fell right back into place, making him wonder if he’d imagined it. What had happened to her in London to damp that inner fire that had once drawn him like a moth?

Not that he wanted to go there again.

Nonetheless, he was standing there watching, even when he had a ton of paperwork waiting for him. He could easily list a dozen things he should be doing instead of sitting here watching Cait prepare to make out with Jason Elkins.

His earlier compliment to Cait hadn’t been empty flattery. In fact, he’d been astounded by how good she was as Rebecca. He snorted when he remembered that Cait’s mother envied her the part. Even thirty years ago Margaret Fields-Reese would have been totally wrong for Rebecca, and if he wanted to be honest—privately, at least—Cait’s mother couldn’t have pulled it off at Cait’s age. Cait might have spent the last ten years in the shadow of her parents’ talent, but she was about to grab the spotlight all on her own.

That much he understood better than anyone else here, and he couldn’t help but be proud of her.

Still, his brain had a hard time reconciling the Cait he knew and the roles she’d used to play with the woman now dominating each scene with quiet, heartbreaking strength. No wonder Naomi was spitting nails. Cait owned this film now. She would rule award season.

But even knowing Cait was simply in character, doing her job while the cameras rolled and thirty people watched, Finn was surprised at the strange kick that landed in his gut when Elkins kissed her.

And it only got worse when Cait kissed him back. The passionate embrace seemed to go on forever.

Farrell finally called cut and Cait rolled out from under Elkins immediately. Two women hurried over to fix her lipstick and hair while the crew readied for the next take.

“Not jealous, are you?” Dolby spoke from behind him.

That feeling wasn’t jealousy. “Why would I be?” he asked casually.

“Don’t know. All I do know is that the second he put his hands on Cait you looked like you would like to beat Elkins into a mushy pulp.”

The truth was good enough here. “I just don’t like him.”

“Ah, but every woman between the ages of fifteen and fifty does.”

And that equaled money at the box office. Finn shook his head. He knew all too well that personal likeability had nothing at all to do with job performance. Hell, his father was a prime example of a lousy person doing a good job, so his distaste of Elkins made little sense under close inspection. He’d had a lifetime of practice in keeping personal dislike separate from professional needs. It made things much easier. It took practice to keep everything in its proper box, but it worked well—until someone like Cait came along and screwed it all up.

As Brady would say, he needed to keep the bigger picture in focus. Folly was the important thing, and he needed to keep his focus there and there only. “I still don’t like the idea of sending Cait out with him to bait the paparazzi. He’s a womanizer.”

“Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, I think.”

For the second time in two days Finn really wanted to punch Dolby in the mouth. It was the only the third time in the entire seven years they’d been partners he’d been pushed like this, and Finn recalled Cait had been part of the reason that other time, too.

“The difference is that I actually like women. He’s nothing but a user, and I feel like a pimp encouraging this.”

Dolby raised his hands and stepped back. “Whoa, there, Lancelot. Lay off the talent. We need them. What did Caitlyn say when you told her?”

“That she’s a team player. She’ll do it, but I don’t think she really likes the idea. I don’t blame her.”

“Well, she needs a big name in order to overshadow yours and point the cameras in another direction. Jason Elkins is about the only one who fits that bill. We could always go back to Plan A and put you two in front of the shutterbugs …”

“And I’ve already said that’s not going to happen.” Even if Cait were game, he certainly wasn’t.

“You’re so touchy about this. Three weeks ago you’d have let me sacrifice kittens on the set if it would be good for Folly.”

“Three weeks ago we were simply shooting. Now the entire project is just a backdrop for a freakin’ soap opera.”

“Dude, you need serious therapy.”

Finn couldn’t argue with that, but damned if he’d admit it.

The director called for quiet and cued the cameras. Cait lay beside Elkins, her face buried in his neck as her hand found his and their fingers twined together. It was beautiful, powerful … and completely sickening. Cait slowly sat up, her hair falling like a curtain over her face, and when she tossed it back the seductive smile she wore ripped into his stomach, spreading remembered and familiar heat and want through his veins. He recognized that smile, knew it, had had it directed at him when he … When they … Disgusted, Finn turned and walked away.

Dolby trotted beside him. Once they were safely out of range, he spoke quietly, “If this thing with Cait is going to be a problem, I’ll stay and you can go back to L.A.”

Why wouldn’t Dolby just let it go? Probably because he knew far more than Finn was really comfortable with at the moment. “There is no ‘thing’ with Cait, so there’s no problem, either. I refuse to make a big deal out of this. The set is closed, Cait’s going to go out and pretend to be hot for Jason Elkins and I’m going to produce this movie. If everyone will just do their damn jobs, it will all be fine.”

Dolby threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Folly is all yours.”

“How kind of you.”

The assistant director waved them down and Dolby went to see what he needed. Finn went to the trailer housing the production office and tried to lose himself in the seemingly endless number of emails. About twenty minutes later, the subject line on one brought him up short: Comment on Caitlyn Reese’s return?

Finn sighed. On the off-chance it was actually something worthwhile, he clicked it open. Nope. No questions about Folly or the role of Rebecca or anything else that might be considered anything other than tabloid-ready gossip.

Good Lord. When he’d left for Monaco, Folly had been newsworthy because of the importance of the project. The book had a nearly cult-like following, and was required reading at many universities, so film companies had been trying to buy the rights to the book for decades. Dolfinn’s success had been hailed as the get of the year.

He wouldn’t care if the attention shifted to one of the cast or the director, because that would be equally valid. In the last few days, as word had spread that not only had Cait been cast but that he would be on the set, Folly’s buzz had shifted toward the tawdry. The media was circling, but not in a good way.

He deleted the email without responding. The invasion of his private life didn’t really bother him. Hell, he’d never had much of a private life. The Marshall family was always in the news: being rich and politically connected equaled fame, and he’d grown up in the fishbowl of power politics. It wasn’t personal. And if it was personal, well, he’d learned long ago not to let that faze him.

He’d built his own reputation in L.A., proving that Marshall DNA wasn’t destiny, but his connections and success only increased the glare of the spotlight. Honestly, he didn’t care what was said about him; he lived his life exactly as he damn well pleased and the rest of the world could shove it. That was the one lesson he’d learned from his father that had served him well. Professional success came with personal scrutiny, but enough success meant his private life couldn’t outshout it. Fame, fortune and power made him blog fodder, but they also meant he didn’t have to answer to anyone about anything.

Why, then, did this sudden Cait-fueled interest irritate him? God knew there was nothing about their previous relationship that hadn’t made the tabloids, and he’d never given that a second thought.

Until now. And he was finding out it was something he really didn’t want to think about.

It made no sense at all.

“Beautiful, Caitlyn. Absolutely wonderful. You and Jason are just magic together.”

Caitlyn accepted the compliments with a smile as she waited for the crew to reset the shot and the makeup artists swooped in to fix her hair and lipstick. She reached for a bottle of water and sipped gently through the straw. What she’d really like to do was swish and gargle to get the taste of Jason out of her mouth, but that probably wouldn’t go over well.

She bit back a laugh. He looked good, smelled even better, and women everywhere would kill to be in her shoes right now. If only the teen magazines knew that their current cover hottie and winner of “Best Lips” should actually take home the title of “Worst Kisser.” Not that a screen kiss would ever equal a real kiss, but jeez … There were close-ups involved, so chaste, fake kisses just wouldn’t do. At their last rehearsal Walter had thundered on about authenticity and making it real, and she was really doing her best. If this was the best Jason could do … Well, Caitlyn felt a little bad for the women he dated.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn and froze. What the hell? It wasn’t that he didn’t belong here—he had full run of the set and there was a good chance he had a legitimate reason for observing the filming—but something slithered down her spine at the thought of him watching her do this.

It just seemed … icky. As if it was wrong somehow, even though she knew that was ridiculous. They weren’t an item anymore, and this was professional kissing, not recreational. Then why did she suddenly feel like …?

The sound of her name pulled her out of her shock, and she realized the crew was waiting for her. Clearing her mind, she lay down next to Jason and let Walter direct her into place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and at that moment she realized why Jason smelled so good.

That was the aftershave Finn used to wear.

Pieces fell into place and memories rushed back at her, crowding her mind’s eye too quickly for her to focus on anything else. Damn it. Now was not the time to wander down that path. But as Jason’s hands moved across her back it was all too easy to pretend it was just part of those memories. That those were Finn’s hands touching her, his breath against her neck, his lips … A shiver ran over her body.

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face, and when she opened her eyes it was Finn’s face she saw, his eyes hooded and glowing with desire. She let the memories wash over her and take control. Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for the buttons on her blouse, then a hand caught her hair and pulled her down against a broad chest. Only part of her mind registered the crew watching and the directions being quietly fed to her; something else was guiding her.

The word, “Cut!” finally caught her attention, and she snapped back to herself. The realization of who she was actually with sent heat to her cheeks, but she forced herself to keep her face still. Looking around, she saw the big smile on the director’s face, and stunned looks from some of the crew.

Jason pushed himself to a sitting position and shook like a wet dog. Her lipstick stained his lips. “Wow, Caitlyn. Hell of a take.”

Thank God this was a professional crew. They expected realism. She was the only one who needed to know what had actually happened, and as the compliments about that “magic” started again she didn’t bother to correct anyone who wanted to gush about the chemistry she had with Jason.

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