Page 55 of The Movie Star and the Spy

His gaze sharpened. “Looking for what?”

Damn.She took a breath, refocused. She was running out of cover stories. “I’m looking for a little fun. There are some really fascinating men on the set.”

“Are there?” His voice turned low, dangerous. “Too bad you won’t have time to flirt with them.”

Did he just–“Excuse me? You may be my boss, but you don’t have the right to dictate who I do and don’t see. You have no claim to me.”

His lips did a dangerous downturn. His steps boomed across the floor as he approached. Closer, closer, closer. “What about Friday night?”

Heat engulfed her, yet pride prevented her from moving back. “Friday night was a mistake.”

“And Saturday morning? And afternoon? And night? And all day Sunday?”

Cheyenne flushed. “Mistake, mistake, mistake and really big mistake.”

“I see.” He moved closer, and he brushed her. It waselectric. “You didn’t seem to think so at the time.”

“I wasn’t thinking!” she shot back, scooting away from muscles and electricity and desire. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. You’re an amazing–”Too strong.“I mean great, I mean good…”

“Please stop – my ego just can’t take it.”

She huffed out. “Slightly less than mediocre guy, but I can’t start anything serious right now.”

“So you just want to use me for sex?”

She hesitated.

“I’m wounded, but I’ll take it.”

“Wait, what? No!”She was losing control.“This isn’t just about sex.”

He smiled.

That little–“Making me respond… er… tripping up my answers isn’t going to help your cause. It doesn’t matter if it’s a real relationship or meaningless sex. It can’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

The strangest urge to tell the truth tangled her tongue. Yet that could derail the mission, not to mention her resolve. She looked away. “It just can’t. I’m not in the position to have any sort of relationship.”

“Even one with the potential to be something special?”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but nothing emerged. She wasn’t nearly a good enough actress to convince herself their relationship wasn’t special, so how would she convince him? They shared some sort of rare spark, a connection, pure and simple. But it didn’t matter, because of who he was and who she wasn’t. They could never explore it.

“You owe me a date.”

“I know,” she acknowledged. “One more.”

Silence.

“That’s it, buddy.” She held up a finger. “One more date.”

More silence.

“Ugh. Okay, so when do you want it to be? Our last, final, never-to-be-repeated date?”

This time, he answered without hesitation. “Friday.”

The day before another weekend…. wait, an entire week off. “Not a chance. I’m not getting locked into a seven-day date, actually more counting weekends.”

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