* * *
Zax showed up on the set nearly every day, but Juliana put that down to the meticulous way he did his job and not a particular interest in her. As head of security for the king, he was responsible for—among other things—making sure the cast and crew of King’s Ransom weren’t a threat to the king’s safety in any way. They conversed sometimes when she had a few minutes between scenes—reminiscences for the most part—including memories of Juliana’s father, who’d been the US Ambassador to Zakhar when she’d lived here. Although Zax reminded her poignantly of Andre in the way he looked, the way he spoke, even his mannerisms sometimes, and though she could tell he appreciated the beautiful woman she’d become, there was no spark and he never went beyond the line. He never said anything to which Juliana could take exception.
Niko also showed up on the set frequently over the next few weeks, and his presence watching the filming didn’t bother Juliana one iota, any more than Zax’s presence did. Nor did his attempts to get her alone cause her anything but amusement. Niko was just another in the long line of men who pursued her because of who and what she was—a status symbol. She’d dated men like Niko back in Hollywood, men who thought she was an easy mark. Not as many dates as the tabloids had trumpeted to the world, but a few. Like those Hollywood Lotharios, Niko would soon learn Juliana was no man’s conquest, and eventually he’d lose interest.
The problem was, Andre occasionally visited the set, too, much to Juliana’s dismay. Every scene was doubly hard to play with him there, and she never knew when he would show up. She had a well-deserved reputation with directors for being the consummate professional, able to do most scenes in one or two takes. That was something else she’d learned from Dirk.
But when Andre was there it was nearly impossible to act naturally. And more than once she was forced to apologize to the director and her fellow actors for some stupid screwup on her part, especially her scenes with Dirk. She told herself to ignore Andre. Told herself he was nothing to her now, no more than any casual acquaintance, so she shouldn’t let him upset her. Told herself she didn’t care what he thought of her, that the respect of her director, Dirk, the rest of the cast and the crew was all she cared about. But she was lying to herself, and she knew it.
She was dreading the two intimate love scenes scheduled for filming tomorrow: the wedding-night scene, where Eleonora and her husband consummated their wedding vows just hours before Andre Alexei was almost slain and Eleonora was kidnapped; and the reunion scene years later, after the king finally ransomed his queen and her young son at a cost that beggared his kingdom. A stupendous cost equivalent to a king’s ransom, not just a queen’s. And then had brought them home to Zakhar...to him.
The scene where Eleonora bravely confessed everything to her husband and offered to enter a convent to hide her shame and his—an offer Andre Alexei had adamantly refused. The scene where he made love to his wife so gently, so tenderly, she was finally able to respond to his lovemaking despite everything she’d endured in captivity.
That scene reminded her poignantly of a scene between Terry O’Dare and Tessa in Jetsam. Dirk had said the same thing to her when he’d first read the King’s Ransom script, and they’d already discussed just how they were going to play it. But that made it incredibly intimate, more than just the words in the script. It was supposed to a closed set, with only the bare minimum cast and crew necessary to film both scenes. But who on the set would have the nerve to tell the king of Zakhar he couldn’t be there?
* * *
Andre knew his presence on the set was having a negative effect on Juliana’s abilities as an actress, and it bothered him not at all. He welcomed it as a sign she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she pretended. But the night before the scheduled love scenes he knew he couldn’t be there. He couldn’t watch Dirk DeWinter and Juliana making love, take after take, angle after angle, fully and partially clothed. He knew the scenes would be tastefully done—Juliana was never fully naked in any of her films. And he knew it wasn’t real, that they were merely actors playing the roles of the first king and queen of Zakhar. He still couldn’t watch it.
I should have ordered the screenwriter to remove those scenes from the script, he told himself angrily. But in his heart he knew the scenes were necessary. The audiences had to see the love scenes, both before and after their long separation, in order to understand the eternal love that bound the two together even through years apart. They were actually beautifully written—the screenwriter had outdone herself.