Action

Marianne patted her arm.

“What you need is a nice cup of tea.”

“You and your tea. You’re the reason the English get a bad name.”

Derek entered the room with an air of expectancy. Davina was sure that in his head he was a member of the royal family.

“You say that guy is an amateur?” He pointed in the direction of the front door and Jack. “He’s got serious talent. I believed every minute of that. Amazing work.”

He rubbed against her on his way to the coffee machine.

“Got my juices flowing,” he said as he passed.

Davina resisted the urge to stick a finger down her throat.

“How did the scene look?” she asked instead. “Any problems? Do we need a second take?”

“All good, perfect first time,” Derek said.

Davina wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. She slumped into the armchair that Marianne had claimed as her own. A quote from Sir Walter Scott popped into her head – oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. Her face flushed with guilt. She was digging a hole so deep with Jack there would be no way to climb out. How did she explain any of this? What chance would there ever be of having a relationship with the guy?

She sat up straight and looked around in panic. Not that she wanted a relationship. No. She wanted his body. And you didn’t need to have a heart to heart for that to happen, did you? She slumped back into the chair. It was no use kidding herself. She’d never been one for casual relationships. Sure, she could talk a good game, but that was all it was, talk. When she wanted a man – she wanted the man. Not just his body – magnificent as Jack’s body was. Even she could see that a pile of lies wasn’t a solid foundation for a relationship. And all she’d done since meeting Jack was lie. The worst one being that he was now in her movie, without his permission and she was pretty certain against his will. Her head began to thump.

“Take this, you’ll feel better.” As if reading her mind Marianne gave her a mug of tea and two paracetamol.

“I think I’m past pain killers, I should move straight to lobotomy.”

“You’d need a brain for that.”

The doorbell rang. Davina’s heart pounded. Jack was back, demanding answers.

“Relax,” Marianne said. “It’s the rest of our crew. You drink your tea. I’ll get it.”

And then she was gone. Unfortunately, that left Davina alone with Derek who was watching her closely from his seat at the kitchen table.

“I don’t usually see actresses give so much of themselves to a role,” he said. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Davina bit her tongue to stop from pointing out that he didn’t work with actresses at all, just two presenters and a troop of normal people making guest appearances. Derek leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“I think you have a lot of pent-up passion that needs to be released,” he told her.

She sipped her tea.

“How about we call that scene the practice run for a night together?”

She almost choked.

“You mean, you and me?”

“I told you when I took this gig, I expect compensation.” His eyes travelled the length of her body, leaving a trail of invisible slime in their wake. “We’ve been dancing around this for a long time, you and me. It’s time to confront this attraction.”

“Attraction?”

It was so ludicrous, she almost laughed. But it was clear that Derek couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t be attracted to him.

“Dinner, tomorrow night. Let’s see if we can deal with that passion.”

“I can’t,” she said hurriedly. “Plans.”