“I hated it,” he answered flatly. “But no matter how much distance I put between myself and my family, I’ve still had plenty of film-industry followers approach me over the years, looking to get a script to my father, or trying to—”
“Oh, my God.” I couldn’t believe it. “You think I came here to, like...what? Audition for you? Get an acting recommendation? I was in one reality show and it was a disaster.” I shot to my feet, offended that he thought I was that kind of person. “I’d have to be some kind of desperate to stalk you all the way to Sonoma County for the sake of a good word with your dad.”
Damien rose, too. Stepped toward me.
“When I saw you pick up a pitchfork last night, I figured I’d been off base with that assumption.” He gave me a halfhearted smile that let me see a dimple in his cheek.
My pulse raced like a teenager’s. What was it about a damn dimple that could soothe a temper in a nanosecond?
“Last night was cool,” I admitted. Seeing the little foal come into the world had been special. “I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just wanted to help.”
I had never realized that I would miss being around barns and farms. I’d taken that world for granted when I lived at home, thinking it was as small-time and suffocating as my overly critical family. But maybe farm life had never been the problem at all. Being here had made me feel nostalgic for what I’d left behind. Of course, back then, I hadn’t had a choice but to leave. I’d been reeling from my sister’s betrayal hard on the heels of Rick’s.
Having Nina ignore my warnings about the guy, having her think that I still wanted him had severed already shaky ties. I’d realized that if I was ever going to feel a sense of self-worth, I needed to start fresh.
“I figured as much,” Damien was saying, and it took me a minute to remember what we’d been talking about. “And I really appreciated that. But then, when I walked in here tonight and it looked like you were trying to hide whatever you were working on at the computer—”
“What?” I felt dizzy. He knew about that?
Mortification chilled me as I remembered what I’d been writing.
Damien’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Is it a screenplay? A movie you want me to show my father?”
“No!” I denied it so strongly—so loudly—that of course it sounded overly dramatic and false. “No. It’s not a screenplay. It’s just...private.”
His gaze shot to the computer and I wanted to bury it. I should just confess the truth. But I was so flustered that anything I said might sound like a fib.
“It’s embarrassing,” I pleaded.
“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced. “It’s not my business, anyhow.”
I could see my chances of ever purchasing the farm stand evaporating. Nerves twisted my gut. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what I was really writing. Maybe if I was a well-adjusted, normal female, it wouldn’t be a big deal to confess that I was writing a steamy, sexy novel. Or what would be a steamy, sexy novel, once I worked through a few mental reservations about the whole thing. I had issues with sex and romance. But this book was my ticket to dealing with all that.
“I’ve got to shower,” he said suddenly, his voice cool. Distant. “There are guest rooms upstairs if you’d like to stay—”
“It’s a naughty novel,” I blurted.
For a long moment, he just stared back at me as if he’d misheard.
“What?”
“A, um, naughty book.” I sounded like a middle school kid who got caught drawing naked pictures in her sketch pad. Not that I’d ever done such a thing. I cleared my throat. “I am writing an erotic novel,” I clarified, probably sounding stuck-up and repressed. “It’s definitely nothing I’d want your dad to make a movie about. So...good night.”
Heart pounding wildly, I reached for my laptop and fled.
4
THE SHOWER THAT Damien took went from a way to get clean to a way to freeze out the red-hot images filling his brain with vivid clarity.
But when his fingers were wrinkled like prunes and he’d quit feeling his toes, he shut off the cold spray and admitted the sexual interest in Miranda Cortland wasn’t going away any time soon. Toweling off, he debated how to approach her next, since he believed her 100 percent about not using him to get to his dad. Not even a world-class actress could fake the discomfort he’d seen in her when she’d confessed to...what she’d really been writing.