aren’t working at the moment?’ she prompted interestedly.
‘I start filming late next week,’ he dismissed. ‘But I’m working on another project at the
moment.’
‘Sounds mysterious,’ she teased, sipping her wine, having decided she had better
stick with the one drink all evening.
‘Not really,’ Barry smiled. ‘You know this business as well as I do; one minute you
have a feasible idea, the next it’s back to the proverbial drawing-board.’
‘Like the play I was in,’ she acknowledged heavily.
Barry looked at her consideringly. ‘With your looks, I’m sure you would do well in
Hollywood.’
So much for having to tell this man Lucas’s totally biased opinion, she thought
moodily. She didn’t want to go to Hollywood, away from everything she held dear, away from
Lucas!
‘Just say the word and I’ll
‘Thanks, but I’m really not interested,’ she cut in firmly.
‘Bastardising your talent, hm?’ he said ruefully. ‘Not at all!’ Christi was genuinely
shocked. ‘America has some really talented people. I’m not one of those actors who think
the "British theatre",’ she affected a haughtily English accent,
‘is everything.’ She shook her head. ‘I just feel ... This is my home,’ she shrugged. ‘My
family—what little there is—is here.’
‘But I thought Dizzy and Zach were your only family?’ Barry frowned. ‘And little Laura,
of course.’
Christi gave a puzzled frown. ‘They are.’
‘Then when they go to the States
‘What?’ She faced him tensely. ‘But they aren’t going to the States,’ she denied
confidently, unnerved by Barry’s guilty expression. ‘Are they?’ she voiced uncertainly.
‘Nothing has been decided yet,’ he answered awkwardly. ‘But I’ve made your uncle an offer
for the film rights to one of his books, with the inclusion that he will write the
screenplay,’ he explained slowly. ‘He’s still thinking about it.’
No mention of this had been made over the weekend, not in front of her, anyway. Was
she the reason Zach and Dizzy were hesitating? She knew her uncle and Dizzy took their
responsibility towards her very seriously, and they wouldn’t lightly view leaving her alone in
England for six months or so. She would miss them all, very much, but this was too good an
opportunity for Zach to pass up, and she would tell him so when she made her weekly call to
them on Sunday evening; to telephone earlier would be to make too much of their hesitation. She
would just casually mention what a good idea she thought it was, and leave them to make their
decision from there.
‘It sounds marvellous!’ She gave a brightly encouraging smile. ‘Tell me more about it.’
Barry was only too happy to do so, for this was the other ‘project’ he was working
on at the moment. It sounded wonderful, filming beginning early next year if her uncle was
agreeable, the deal he was being offered probably enough to renovate the rest of Castle
Haven, which was her uncle’s lifetime ambition, only having been able to afford the work on
the east wing of the rundown castle so far. The thought of leaving her alone in England for all
those months had to be the reason he was hesitating.
‘I’m sure we could find a part for you in the film if it would help Zach to—well ‘ Barry
broke off uncomfortably as she looked at him with raised brows. ‘It was only an idea,’ he dismissed
ruefully.
‘I’m as much against nepotism as I am the casting couch,’ Christi told him drily.
‘That really was dumb of me,’ he said with a groan, his adopted American accent
more pronounced in his self-disgust. ‘I really am sorry,’ he grimaced. ‘Although the part of the
heroine’s sister would be perfect—no,’ he accepted drily as Christi slowly shook her head. ‘Nepotism
is a dirty word, right?’ he dismissed.
‘Right,’ she agreed drily.
‘But if it were someone else’s script—but it isn’t,’ he sighed as Christi just continued to look
at him patiently. ‘I’ve said far too much, probably ruined what has so far been a perfect
evening
‘You haven’t ruined it at all,’ she assured him lightly, picking up her clutch-bag. ‘After all,
I asked you to tell me more about it. But it is late now,’ she smiled. ‘I really should be getting
home.’
Barry sighed. ‘I did ruin the evening
‘Really—you didn’t,’ she insisted without rancour. ‘I’m grateful that you told me about
it.’
‘If you’re sure ... ?’ He still didn’t look convinced, his handsome face set in self-
reproachful lines.
‘I’m sure .’ Ch risti stood u p in one fluid movement, the soft wool of the pale blue
dress she wore falling gently against her knees.
It was almost twelve by the time Christi searched for her door-key in her bag. Surely it
was far too late to be calling on Lucas. Wasn’t it?
‘Here, let me.’ Barry took the key from her unresisting fingers, deftly unlocking the door for
her.
He had certainly had plenty of practice at that, Christi acknowledged warily. Still
unmarried, at thirty-six, so perhaps that wasn’t so surprising! Whatever his experience, he
made her nervous.
She turned to face him in the doorway, effectively blocking his entrance. ‘Thank you for
a lovely evening. The dinner was superb and the show was excellent.’ She gave him a glowing smile.
He looked chagrined at the obvious dismissal. And then he relaxed, chuckling softly. ‘I
guess I’ve lived in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood too long, where the usual thank you
for an enjoyable evening is an equally enjoyable night in bed!’
‘I guess you have,’ Christi drily mocked him.
Barry shook his head, grinning widely, looking years younger. ‘Dizzy told me I was
going to like you.’
Christi gave an inclination of her head. ‘She told me the same thing about you.’
He looked at her admiringly. ‘She wasn’t wrong as far as I’m concerned,’ he told her
huskily. ‘Nor me,’ she assured softly.
She was ready for his kiss, waiting, her face raised invitingly to his, his mouth firm and
warm as it claimed hers.
His mouth moved against hers with expertise, eliciting a response; it was only when
his hands began a slow exploration of her body that Christi froze, his caresses an intrusion,
an act of theft against the man she really wanted.
Barry drew back ruefully, releasing her slowly. ‘Can I see you again?’ he prompted
gruffly, blue eyes dark with passion. ‘Saturday?’
‘I—have a date for Saturday.’ She couldn’t quite meet his gaze.
‘Oh, yes,’ his voice hardened, ‘with David Kendrick, right?’
‘Right,’ she confirmed uncomfortably. If she’d had Dizzy by her side right now, she
would cheerfully have wrung her neck for her, new mother or not! Her friend had put her in
such a compromising situation with these three men, that by the time the week was ended
probably none of them would even want to talk to her again, let alone have their thoughts on
matrimony!
‘Then, how about next week?’ Barry suggested lightly.
‘Er—can I call you?’ she prevaricated. ‘I’m hoping to have found work by next week,
and I’m not sure when or where I’ll be working.’
He nodded acceptance. ‘You have the number of my hotel. I’ll look forward to hearing from
you.’
Christi wondered ruefully how long it had been since an evening had ended so tamely
for Barry Robbins, as she moved about her kitchen making herself a cup of coffee, having
decided it was too late to bother Lucas now. The poor man probably hadn’t been sent meekly
on his way at the end of an evening for years. Oh well, at least he wasn’t likely to forget the
evening he had spent with her! She had changed into her nightshirt and was sitting on the
sofa, drinking her coffee, when she heard the soft knock on her apartment door.
Barry had seemed to take her refusal good -naturedly, but if he had come back for
another try he couldn’t have been quite as amiable about it as she had thought he was! She
gaped at Lucas as she peered up at him from around the edge of the door, straightening as she
opened it wider.
‘Don’t look so surprised,’ he derided, bending down to pat Henry as the dog yapped
about his ankles, demanding attention. ‘I think we had better go inside before he wakes our
neighbours up,’ he suggested ruefully.
Christi stepped back dazedly, following him through to the lounge, drinking her fill of
him as, Henry’s feelings appeased, the two cats stretched and purred in the armchair for his
attention.
Lucas certainly hadn’t been drinking this evening; his hair was neatly combed, his eyes
intelligently alert, no lines of bitterness were etched into his face. He had obviously spent the
evening relaxing at home; the short-sleeved brown shirt was partly unbuttoned at his throat,
faded denims rested low down on lean hips and thighs. It made Christi’s breath catch and
her palms grow damp just to look at him! The cats lay on their backs in ecstasy as one leanly