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‘Meaning?’
‘You didn’t see some of their faces when you debated with me?’
She had—and she might have been worried he was angry about it if she hadn’t seen the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. ‘I noticed the look on their faces when you conceded anything. I get the impression that doesn’t happen too often…’
‘It’s rare.’ He shrugged and cast a glance over the open-plan work area outside the conference room like some ruler surveying his kingdom. ‘But not unheard-of.’
‘Hmm.’ Cassidy leaned against the other side of the frame, pursed her lips and then smiled when he looked at her. ‘Might do you good if it happened more often, Ryan. Who knows what creativity you have here, hidden under too many layers of fear to speak up in front of the boss. You should thank me.’
‘Or hire you.’
Her jaw dropped. But before she could figure out if he was being serious, he pushed off the door frame and jerked his head. ‘Come on. I have something I want you to see while we’re here…’
Of all the things she had expected to be shown—fancy office, great views over Los Angeles, other productions he might be working on—a room the size of a large stationery cupboard, filled with piles of paper and sacks of letters pretty much came at the bottom of the list. So when he turned the lights on and closed the door behind them, she turned round and lifted a brow.
‘A mailroom? That’s what you wanted to show me?’ Her voice was flat.
Will blinked lazily at her. ‘Pick a letter.’
She was obviously missing something. Frowning, she turned her head and examined the room more closely. Nope—it still looked like a mailroom to her. Not a particularly well-organised one either.
‘Pick a letter. Or an e-mail—doesn’t matter.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘Any one you want.’
Okay, she’d play. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she made a big deal out of waving her hand in circles before closing her eyes and feeling around for a random selection—not helping with any invisible filing system he might have.
When she opened her eyes and held it up in front of her face, the corners of Will’s mouth were tugging upward. ‘Read it.’
Dragging her gaze from his, she slipped the letter from the opened envelope and began to read, her eyes widening when she realized what it was. Lifting her chin, she stared at the rest of the papers—then at Will.
The green of his eyes radiated warmth, and his deep voice lowered as he told her, ‘Pick another one.’
She did—and got an e-mail that made her throat tighten.
Will’s voice was lower and closer when he spoke again. ‘Keep going.’
‘All of them?’ Cassidy lifted her chin and silently cleared her throat, so her voice didn’t sound so strangled. ‘This whole room is fan mail for our movie?’
‘Yes. The studio forwarded it here to begin with, but when it started increasing we changed the address on the website. We get mail from all over the world.’ He searched her eyes and smiled. ‘They call themselves the Fortune Hunters.’
For the first time in her life Cassidy was at a complete loss for words.
So Will kept going, his gaze locked on hers. ‘It started with message boards. Then they launched their own site and it grew from there. There are role-playing games, conspiracy theories—some of them have all the lines memorised so when they have a screening they can join in. They even dress up as the characters at conventions…’
With her emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Cassidy forcibly dragged her gaze from his and reached for another letter. ‘What’s this one?’
Will held an edge so he could read it. ‘California’s Fortune Hunters. There are chapters all over the place now, but California was the first. They organise a yearly charity screening of the movie, and let us know when it is so we can send memorabilia to auction on the night.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t think you did.’ He waited for her to look at him before he told her. ‘The movie may have tanked at the box office, Cass, but it’s been successful in ways no one could ever have predicted. It’s brought people together—it’s even been the catalyst for a few weddings. There’s a community of amazing people out there who are making a difference to other people’s lives with their charitable causes through it. Does that sound like a failure to you?’
Cassidy shook her head.
‘No.’ Will smiled one of those smiles as he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘If you didn’t get enough of a self-confidence boost from the reaction to the pitch we just did, then maybe this will do it.’
She still couldn’t speak.
When Will’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth she held her breath, her heart thundering against her breastbone as she waited to see if he was going to kiss her…
But he dropped his hand and stepped back. ‘Read through some of them while I make a few calls, if you like. There’s a coffee machine down the hall. Then I’ll come back and drive us home, so we can work on the changes we agreed in the meeting.’
She nodded. Then watched as he turned round and opened the door. The first tear slipped onto her lower lashes after he’d disappeared. It wasn’t just because of what he’d shown her and told her, or the fact he had known how much she’d needed to see it. It was because he’d used the word ‘home’.
As if it was her home too…
The thing was, somewhere along the way, his house had started to feel more like home than the one she had in Ireland. It would take strength to leave and close the door on their relationship for once and for all. She knew she’d be leaving even more of herself behind than he’d taken with him the first time.
They didn’t go straight to work on the script revisions when they got back to Will’s house. Cassidy couldn’t allow herself to think of it as ‘home’. She’d already allowed herself to get too comfortable in her surroundings as it was.
Unusually—since she’d arrived anyway—it was raining outside: hot, heavy, humid rain. So they had a takeaway Moroccan dinner inside—plates of a half-dozen dishes she’d never tried before spread out on a coffee table in front of them while they sat on one of Will’s large sofas.
‘I’m curious about your life,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘I can’t ask you a simple question?’
‘Maybe I’m curious why you need to know.’ Cassidy was fully aware of the verbal game of poker they were playing over dessert, but she wasn’t backing down.
‘I thought we’d decided we’re friends again?’
She avoided his gaze, playing with the ice cream in her tub. ‘Okay, we’re friends.’
‘Friends talk about stuff. Try me.’
It took a long while for her to make a decision, and Cassidy couldn’t help but smile when he lifted dark brows in challenge. She knew he knew the reason she was reluctant to talk about her life was because it involved emotion. She knew he knew that she knew Will didn’t talk about emotion. End of story. He’d rather chew off his own arm. So it was, therefore, a case of what was sauce for the goose…
But this change for the better in their relationship had allowed them to start getting to know each other again, and she was reluctant to put a dampener on that. Especially when they were both smiling more, and working together had got easier, and he’d been so thoughtful of late…
The ice cream took several violent digs before she sighed heavily. ‘One hint of anything resembling sympathy, Will Ryan…’
When she glanced up he was continuing to smile his patented humouring smile at her.
She frowned. ‘You’re doing it already.’
‘I’m not.’ He pasted a serious expression on his face, folding his arms and jerking his chin at her. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’
‘I hate this. I tell you about my life and it’s just going to sound pathetically ordinary compared to yours.’
‘Not necessarily. Most of my life is more ordinary than people might think.’
Cassidy snorted softly in disbelief. ‘Like what, for instance? Hanging out with movie stars? Working in the motion picture industry? The fact you attend the Oscars every year? The millionaire’s beach house you live in?’
It took a second, then one of those smiles broke free, the green in his eyes glittering hypnotically. He shook his head before looking at a point over her left shoulder as he considered his answer. ‘It’s hard to find words.’
‘Will, you work with words every day.’ She kept her voice purposefully soft. ‘Can’t spell them—but you know how to use them…’
‘Very funny.’
‘Try. One ordinary thing about your life.’
‘Just the one and you’ll tell me about your life.’ He looked as if he doubted that.
‘Make it a truly mundane one and I’ll fill in the blanks.’ She lifted her spoon and made a cross in the air above her breasts. ‘Cross my heart.’
The move apparently gave him an open invitation to drop his gaze and watch the increased rise and fall of her breasts as he looked at them. Then his thick lashes lifted and he chuckled at her look of accusation before informing her, ‘I don’t have a housekeeper. So I do all my own cleaning.’
‘Oh, no—your obsession with neatness doesn’t count.’ It was something that had never ceased to astound her, but he’d always seemed to get pleasure from an organised environment. Whereas Cassidy had always lived in the kind of chaos that was reflective of her life in general. In the end she’d put his borderline obsession down to control—the same kind of control that he’d exerted over so many areas of his life.
Only in the bedroom had he ever fully lost that precious self-control. When he’d made love to her she’d never had any doubts about how he felt. But then neither had he about how she felt. They’d been stripped naked—emotionally as well as physically. Something Cassidy had never allowed herself to come close to experiencing with anyone else. Not that he would ever know that.
Will shrugged and stole a spoonful of her ice cream. ‘Still counts as ordinary. Everyone does housework. It’s a universal equaliser.’
Cassidy laughed. ‘I’ve made a valiant effort to avoid it wherever possible, believe me.’
The corners of his mouth quirked. ‘I believe you. Now I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain it’s your turn. Tell me about this ordinary life of yours.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask again why he wanted to know, but instead she dropped her chin and played some more with the ice cream. ‘I teach, so I work according to the school terms. In the summer I usually manage to find work at camps, or at places where working parents can leave their kids while they do their nine to fives. I have a flat. I have teacher friends I meet for lunches or coffees or whatever. I used to have a cat—’
‘What happened to it?’
‘It must have been about a hundred years old when I got it from the shelter, so it didn’t last long.’
‘Didn’t get another one?’
‘Nope.’ She smiled wryly at her ice cream. ‘Apparently I wasn’t ready to deal with another loss after my dad. I cried for weeks over that dumb cat.’
When Will didn’t say anything she stole an upward glance at him from underneath a wave of lose hair. He was studying her again. But instead of asking What? that way she usually did, she took the opportunity to say, ‘Thank you. For the card and the flowers you sent.’
He knew she didn’t mean after the cat had died. ‘I got your note. You don’t have to thank me again.’
Cassidy dampened her lips and took a breath. ‘It meant a lot. I didn’t put that in the note. And I should have. That time is kind of a blur to me now.’
‘Grief can be like that.’ His gaze shifted to her loose hair, and Cassidy wondered if he was thinking of tucking it away again. ‘You had a lot to do to wrap everything up as well. At least you had your family to help you.’
‘I did.’ Unlike the eight-year-old Will, who’d had no one when his mother had passed away; it still killed Cassidy that he’d been left so alone.
‘You could have called me if you’d needed anything—you know that.’
She did. Even if he hadn’t written it in the card he had sent. ‘Wasn’t that easy.’
Taking a deep breath, he reached forward for the remote control of his ridiculously large widescreen TV and handed it to her. ‘I’ve decided we’re taking the night off. Pick a movie.’
Cassidy blinked in surprise. ‘I thought you wanted to get this thing done?’
‘It’ll wait.’ He waved the remote in the air. ‘Pick a movie.’
Setting the ice cream tub between her knees, Cassidy took the remote with one hand, leaning forward and resting the back of her other hand against his forehead. ‘Are you feeling sick? Do you have a temperature? Maybe you caught my cold…’
He removed her hand. ‘You can’t spend an evening just sitting doing nothing with me, can you?’
‘Yes, I can.’ But she could feel her cheeks warming at the ‘doing nothing with me’ part. Because in the past sitting on a sofa watching a movie with him would have led to kissing. Kissing would have led to touching. Then—
‘Prove it. Pick a movie.’
With an arched brow she lifted her chin and curled her legs underneath her, glaring sideways at him as she pointed the remote at the TV. ‘You’ll regret this.’
Will toed off his shoes and lifted his feet to rest them on the coffee table, settling back into the large cushions. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Oh, yes you are.’ She smirked as the screen jumped to life and she flicked through the channels to find what she was looking for. There it was. That would do, ‘Because it is now officially chick-flick night…’
When the credits played at the end of the movie, Cassidy turned her head against the back of the sofa and found Will fast asleep, his face turned towards her. He was gorgeous. Strands of dark hair falling across his forehead, cheeks flushed with sleep, full lips parted as he breathed deep, even breaths. For a long while she just looked at him, drinking in the sight and memorising every detail. Then she gave in to temptation and brushed a single strand of rich hair off his forehead with her fingertips. Her voice was a whisper, as if she was reluctant to lose the stolen moment. ‘Will?’
He didn’t react, so she smiled and tried again with a slightly stronger voice. ‘Will.’
‘Hmm…?’
Still smiling, she watched as he slowly made his way into consciousness. How many times had she watched him waking up? Probably hundreds. Yet apparently, even after so many years, it was still one of her favourite things to do.
Will blinked her into focus with heavy lashes. ‘Cass?’
Though obviously still caught between sleeping and waking, he lifted a hand and gently brushed her hair back from her cheek. ‘Cass…’
Cassidy froze when he leaned towards her. What was he—?
Oh, no—no, no, no, no, no! This wasn’t happening! Why had he—? What did he think he was—? Was he seriously—? He was kissing her! Unscripted! No, wait—it was worse than that. He was kissing her, and it was…it was—well, it was…
Oh, wow.
At first she was stunned at how fast her body responded. The heat built like a flashfire in dry scrubland, even though the kiss was soft and sweet and so tender it shredded yet another edge off Cassidy’s already ragged heart. It seemed endless, as if the world turned more slowly, while her heart pounded heavily against her breasts. Nothing had ever felt as right in her entire life—not one single thing—and knowing that scared her to death. She could not fall in love with this man again. Oh, please. But what if she’d never fallen out of love with him?
Oh. God.
Now she was kissing him back. Stupid, stupid girl! What was she doing? It was Will Ryan—the man who broke her heart and changed her life for ever, ruining her for any other man who ever showed the vaguest little interest in her! What was she doing kissing him back? Had she lost her mind?
When the moan formed low in her chest she had the fight of her life to keep it there. She couldn’t let the sound out. If she let it out he’d know. He’d know he was making her toes curl. He would know how little it would take to get her horizontal again. Who did that after eight years apart? What was it about him? Was she really so needy that she—?
Oh, it was good. She never wanted it to end.
But it had to. It. Had. To. So she dragged her mouth from his—then stared at him as she fought to control her breathing, while his eyes opened and his warm breath washed over her flushed cheeks. He stared back. Then frowned and opened his mouth…
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