Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

“Okay. I will.”

She looked up in surprise.

It was crunch time and Beau knew he was running out of it. He needed to snag her now. Dangle the bait and get the hell out so she could digest. Betty was the kind of woman who reacted quickly, and usually adversely, because she didn’t take the time to think things through.

As much as she wanted people to believe she was made of steel with nothing remotely human about her, the truth of it was the girl ran on emotion.

“I’ve seen your audition, the one you made for Bentley.”

If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. The steel mask was back as she stared at him. “Really. I would have thought Bentley would have destroyed it right after he walked in on us fucking.”

Beau shifted in his chair. He sure as hell didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, but more than that, he didn’t like Betty’s crass words. There was so much about that night that was wrong, and a hell of a lot that he’d never been able to forget. The entire evening may have started out as a way for him to prove a point—that she didn’t belong on set, that she wasn’t an actress—but Beau hadn’t been prepared for the spark between them. And as much as she would never believe him, he hadn’t intended to get her into his bed.

“He was pretty pissed,” she continued, eyes never wavering.

“I suppose he had a reason to be,” Beau answered carefully. “You guys were involved.”

Pissed was an understatement. Bentley had made the entire shoot a living hell for Beau. And it was the main reason he’d tested the waters and started to direct small projects himself. He hated not having control, and he sure as hell was done working with arrogant assholes.

Betty exhaled and tossed her napkin on the plate. She opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. Several tense seconds passed and when she finally did speak, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Bentley was pissed because he’d been trying to get into my pants for months. Contrary to what everyone believed, including you, I wasn’t sleeping with him. That movie was important to me. It was my shot at something good and different and…well, like always I managed to screw things up.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau said carefully.

Betty’s eyes flashed. “Sorry for what? For screwing me over? Or for literally screwing me?”

“I’m sorry for all of it. At the time I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. I know what everyone else thought, from Bentley to the other actors, to the goddamn caterers on the set.” Her cheeks flushed and her chest heaved. “I know what everyone still thinks about me. I’m used to it. Doesn’t bother me at all.”

Except he knew that it did, and suddenly Beau wanted to do whatever he could to make things right. She needed this project as much as he wanted her for it. And he was going to stop at nothing to get her onboard.

“I want you for this movie, Betty. I don’t have a second or third choice. There is no one else. Not after I saw that audition tape.” He leaned forward. “You’re it. So I want you to read the script, which is on the table in your foyer. I want you to read it, learn it. I want you to be that character because we’re making this movie.”

“That’s not going to happen.” There went that chin again.

Beau tossed his napkin onto his plate and got to his feet. He shoved his hands into his pockets, took in the flush that filled her cheeks. Her eyes glistened—oh they were still dark and stormy and pissed off—but they were alive.

He had her.

“It will,” he said, before he turned around.

“It must be exhausting,” she snapped. “Carrying around that massive fucking ego.”

He paused near the door and glanced over his shoulder. Betty was now standing. His eyes rested on the purpling bruise that ran along her jaw before he lifted his eyes to hers. To say he was surprised at the zing that ran through him would be an understatement.

Suddenly he was fighting the urge to march across the room and shut her mouth up with the boldest, hardest kiss he could muster. The thought alone was enough to get his blood flowing and he flexed his hands, a muscle working along the side of his jaw as he took a moment and collected himse

lf.

“I’ll be back in time for the tournament on Saturday. Read the script Betty and we’ll talk then.”

He headed out of the Barker home, his long legs eating up the distance to his bike in no time. Beau settled onto the machine and twenty minutes later he was cruising along the Interstate.

His taillights glowed red in the gathering dusk as he sped toward the Canadian border. Damn, he was looking forward to spending a few days relaxing with his brother, Tucker. Getting out on the water and cruising Lake Muskoka. It had been too long.

The funny thing was? He was already looking forward to coming back.