Sweet Revenge

Sweet Revenge Book One of the Friends and Lovers series Nadia Aidan (c) 2008

Sweet Revenge Book One of the Friends and Lovers series Nadia Aidan Published 2008 ISBN 978-1-59578-425-4 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2008, Nadia Aidan. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email: [email protected] Editor Devin Govaere Cover Artist April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Dedication To my mom

Chapter One Teresa hated this feeling of dread. She knew it was excessive, silly even, but she just couldn't seem to shake it. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest and her hands shook with nervousness. She was supposed to meet the director of Nemesis for lunch in less than half an hour, and as if she weren't already a nervous wreck, the L.A. traffic was even more of a mess than usual! Damn traffic, she grumbled to herself. As much as she loved L.A., the traffic she could live without. She had never been to The Zanzibar, the chic, upscale restaurant in the heart of Hollywood where she was supposed to have lunch with this mysterious director, and to make matters worse, she had somehow gotten lost. She gritted her teeth together. Even more than traffic, she hated getting lost! “I'm going to kill Marty for this,” she said aloud. It was Marty, her agent and manager, who had talked her into this. Everything she knew about the film came solely from the script Marty had sent her, which was admittedly impressive. A romantic comedy about a ballsy businesswoman, the story followed two childhood rivals who later become rivals in business and, by movie's end, fall in love; and though it was essentially a comedy, and a hilarious one at that, the movie had plenty of high drama, too. What Teresa had found most intriguing about Nemesis, however, was that the romantic comedy was liberally laced with scenes that were provocative and sensual, too. Reading it, Teresa couldn’t help being drawn into the erotic and deceitful world of Ms. Casey Lane and Mr. Ashton Williams. The screenplay was mesmerizing and the characters burned a hole through the pages with their sexual intensity. She had found the entire concept irresistible. What bothered her about the project, though, was that the script told her nothing about the enigmatic man who wrote it, who also happened to be the director. “For God’s sake, Marty, he could be a murderer.” Teresa had reasoned when Marty insisted that she meet Mr. Mysterious later that afternoon. “Oh, stop being so dramatic, Teresa. This could be the role of a lifetime,” Marty had said dismissively, and then she had practically gushed over the phone line, “I smell Oscar here!” Teresa wanted to say all she smelled were big, fat dollar signs, but she kept that thought to herself. Since Teresa had moved to L.A. three years ago, the fussy and overprotective Marty had become more like a mother to her than merely an agent, and she was grateful for Marty’s guidance with her acting career. Which meant that, despite her apprehension, Teresa had finally given in to Marty’s request and agreed to the lunch date. Which was why she was now fighting the damned Los Angeles traffic and trying to find a restaurant that seemingly had decided to hide itself from her. She let out a sigh of relief when at last she spotted the modest letters emblazoned on the building. “Finally!” she exclaimed. She pulled alongside the curb and chanced a quick glance at her disheveled reflection. A valet appeared as if by magic to open the car door for her. She handed him her keys, pretending not to notice the Mercedes and the Jaguars looking down their hood

ornaments at her Honda, and took a moment to drink in the red carpet that led to the trendy looking entrance to The Zanzibar. Once again, her stomach tightened with apprehension. Invariably described in the trades as the “restaurant for the stars,” The Zanzibar was known for its exclusivity and the fact that celebrities like Julia Roberts and Denzel Washington dined there religiously. Teresa blew out a breath and placed one high-heeled foot on the red carpet, smiling at the impassive valet as if she honestly thought she belonged there. I will not be intimidated, she told herself, I will not be intimidated, I will not… If she kept telling herself that over and over, at some point she would be able to believe it, right? “‘Mr. Mysterious’ must be something,” she muttered under her breath. You had to be a major power player in Los Angeles to even dine at The Zanzibar. Never mind that Wednesday afternoons were the worst time to even attempt to make lunch reservations anywhere within a five mile radius of downtown L.A. Yet Mr. Mysterious had somehow managed it. Despite her nervousness, Teresa was definitely intrigued and a little impressed. She stuck her chin forward, tucked her shoulders back like an Army general's, and strode purposefully through the doors of The Zanzibar. **** He noticed her the moment she stepped through the doorway, the sun peeking in behind her to illuminate her voluptuous figure. Five foot four of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, the sunlight radiating off of her caramel complexion and sparking little nuggets of gold in her shoulder length, brown hair. Exactly how Ryan Dumont remembered Teresa Montague from high school. At thirty-four, he had spent the last sixteen years waiting for this moment, the moment when he would finally bring the Ms. Haughty Teresa Montague to her knees…literally. He couldn’t wait to have her right there with her face in his crotch and her full lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry as he spurted his seed down her lovely and elegant throat. The mere thought of it made him painfully hard, so hard he had to adjust himself under the table. The Zanzibar wasn't the sort of place where gentlemen were expected to sport boners, no matter how beautiful the woman they were meeting for lunch. In high school Teresa had been “Miss Perfect.” A brilliant student, she had skipped two grades by the time she was fourteen. Teresa was not just an honor student, either, nor just an exotic beauty, although she certainly was that. She seemed to excel at everything she did. She was an accomplished varsity volleyball star. She starred in practically every school play, and by her senior year, she had been accepted into the top colleges in the country. On top of it all, she was a sweet and genuine girl. Although she had definitely been no one's pushover, she was adored by everyone who had the pleasure of knowing her. Ryan would readily admit to himself that he had always been one of her many adoring fans—probably her most adoring one—but that was something he had never admitted to her. For some reason she had never been able to get along with him—except that one time. That time was emblazoned on his memory, and had been for sixteen years. Things were about to change now, though, and very soon, because he had something that she badly wanted, something every struggling actress searches for…the part of a

lifetime. And he was going to make sure she gave him everything he wanted in order to get it. **** While the stylish hostess escorted her to the table, Teresa discretely took in her surroundings, trying to look blasé about them at the same time. She was still wondering who this “Mr. Mysterious” was. The hostess was leading her to a corner table, slightly hidden behind a large potted palm, so that the man seated there could see much of the room without being much seen himself. A power table, clearly. Finally, Teresa saw him for the first time and came to such an abrupt halt that a waiter passing behind her nearly clipped her with a tray full of drinks. He shot a dirty look at the back of her head as he ducked around her. Oh, my God she thought, it can’t be! Her mind began to race and her stomach twisted into tighter knots. The one man she had tried to forget for the last sixteen years was sitting about ten feet from where she was standing, and it seemed as if that was exactly where the hostess was headed. Dear God, please don’t do this to me, Teresa silently prayed, but to no avail. The moment he stood to acknowledge her presence, grinning broadly at her, she knew this was “Mr. Mysterious.” Ryan “fucking” Dumont! What the hell is he doing here? He’d made high school hell for her! Okay. So that wasn’t entirely true. Her secret love—oh, hell, Teresa, she told herself, tell it like it was—her secret lust for him had made high school hell. She could remember many mornings waking up hot and wet from a steamy dream about Ryan Dumont. She hated herself and her traitorous body for the sticky wetness that always seemed to materialize whenever she even thought of him. Even now, all these years later, she still sometimes masturbated to the sexual fantasies of him fucking her. He was a six foot five inch yummy example of masculine perfection, that much she would admit. Ryan had the fullest, most kissable lips she had ever seen on a man. Any woman could appreciate his smooth sun-kissed skin, the high cheekbones and chiseled jaw line that gave him the look of a Persian prince from some adolescent fairy tale. In striking contrast to his light olive complexion, his eyes were black as midnight, framed by lashes so long and sexy that on another man they might have looked less than masculine, but on Ryan only enhanced his sex appeal. His best feature, though, was undoubtedly his hair. Ryan's jet black hair was fastened now at the nape of his neck. In high school, he'd always worn it long. Teresa knew his parents had hated it but she had always thought it was incredibly sexy. She also knew that it was silky to the touch. Even now, she recalled running her fingers through it. No doubt about it, the man was physical perfection, a god. An Arabian god! That is how Teresa always thought of him. He reminded her of the desert sheiks that she read about in her romance novels. It should be a sin for a man to be that damn perfect. Get a hold of yourself, girl, Teresa warned herself. You are not good enough for him. You never were, she added bitterly. Remembering why she hated him so much brought back a flood of pain, but it also strengthened her resolve. Compared to Ryan, she was nothing—a nobody. She knew this wasn’t literally true, but what she thought didn't matter to people like Fatima Dumont.

The day she and Ryan were both inducted into the National Honor Society had also been their first meeting and it had left a lasting impression on her. She would never forget the words said by the hateful woman, with that cultured, exotic accent possessed by many wealthy Kuwaitis who grew up among the British. “I see the way my son looks at you,” Fatima Dumont had said, with a smile that was anything but warming. “One might think you had bewitched him, the way his eyes never leave you. I can’t blame him, of course, you are a beautiful girl, I'm sure there are many men who look at you that way. And I am sure you could make many of them very happy. Unfortunately, however, you are not the kind of girl Ryan needs in his life.” Teresa’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “But, Mrs. Dumont, you don’t understand, Ryan and I are just…” The woman’s beautiful face twisted into an ugly sneer. “Just friends? Is that what you were going to say? Well, let’s just make sure that it stays that way, why don't we? No matter what you think, Ryan is from a different world than you and he deserves better.” Mrs. Dumont’s dark eyes turned cold. “You must think I am blind, or stupid, and I assure you, I am neither. I see the way my son stares at you, and I see the way you stare at him as well. I tell you once again, you are not for him. Stay away from him before you get your little heart broken. Or worse.” With that, Mrs. Fatima Dumont had spun on her heel, her back rigid with disdain, and strode imperiously away. Teresa had never forgotten that moment. She had been left standing there feeling foolish and hurt, knowing that while Fatima was wrong for saying it, what she had said was definitely right. She would never be good enough for Ryan. Ryan was the product of two royal dynasties merging together, literally. Ryan’s father, Allen Dumont, was a descendent of the gens de couleur libre. He hailed from one of the oldest and wealthiest Creole political families from Louisiana, while Fatima Dumont’s harpy ass had come down from a wealthy Kuwaiti sultan who owned and operated over ten percent of the oil fields in Kuwait. What had she been thinking, even dreaming about him? Ryan was so far out of her league. She had a better chance with the man on the moon than Ryan Dumont! From that day on, Teresa made sure that she kept Ryan at arm’s length. It had been fairly easy, too, until the night of their senior prom… **** Teresa had fumed for weeks when she learned that Ryan was taking Tracy Li, the pretty brunette captain of the cheerleading squad, to their senior prom. She had been jealous, although she knew she had no logical right to be. It wasn’t like she was his girlfriend. Still, goaded by her jealousy, she had stubbornly ignored Ryan when he had taken her aside one day in the hall at school and warned her against going to the prom with his football teammate, Bruno Gates. Not only had Ryan warned her, he had practically forbidden her to go with Bruno. Well, Ryan was an idiot, she told herself, if he thought he had the right to tell her who she could and couldn’t attend her prom with. Against Ryan's ridiculous advice, she took Bruno, the big, blond star linebacker of the football team, as her date. As things turned out, however, Ryan’s advice hadn’t been so ridiculous after all. She

learned that painful lesson when she foolishly found herself in the back seat of Bruno's red Ford Mustang. Teresa was athletic herself but she was only so strong and certainly no match for the two hundred and eighty pound linebacker. Tears streamed down her face as she pushed and clawed ineffectually at Bruno’s massive chest. His hands were everywhere, pawing at her bra, grasping for her panties through her gown. “No, Bruno, don't,” she sobbed, but he might not have heard her at all. Finally he tired of trying to get at her through her gown and, grabbing it at the slit that ran down her thigh, ripped it open as if it were tissue paper. “Stop it! Please, Bruno!” She struggled to no avail to push him off of her and winced with pain as his huge body crushed hers into the car seat. Worse, she knew that she was growing weaker by the minute, each breath a struggle now. “Shut up, bitch! Stop being a tease!” Bruno grunted and clasped both of her wrists in one of his meaty hands. His breath stunk of alcohol and he was dripping with sweat from the exertion of trying to restrain her. Teresa wasn’t going to give in without a fight but she didn’t know how much longer she could hold him back. Unless some miracle intervened, he was going to rape her in the back seat of his car and she was powerless to stop him. He was just too strong, and too heavy, so heavy she could hardly catch her breath. She was growing lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, her eyes beginning to lose focus, her body growing limp with exhaustion. She was vaguely aware of her panties being torn from her hips, and felt Bruno's hands pawing at her down there. All of a sudden a thunderous crash penetrated the hazy fog of her semiconsciousness and a shower of tiny chips of glass fell across her face. Bruno's weight was somehow miraculously gone and she hungrily gulped in deep breaths of oxygen. She heard grunts and shouts and realized that there was a struggle going on just outside the car—more grunts, and the sounds of fists pummeling flesh. It sounded very much as if someone was getting his ass beat and she hoped like hell it was that ape, Bruno! She scrambled to a sitting position and looked around. Someone had busted the rear driver side window. Whoever it was had apparently dragged Bruno out of the car as well. It seemed her rescuer had beaten the living shit out of Bruno by this time, too, because there he was, about ten feet away, laid out flat on the ground. His tuxedo collar was ripped and he sported a busted lip and signs of what was almost certainly going to become a nasty black eye. Teresa sensed movement to the left of Bruno. That was when she saw him—Ryan Dumont. His jet black hair was strewn about his face in a wild tangle and his rage had turned his dark eyes coal black. Incongruously, Teresa found herself thinking he had never looked sexier in his life. He stalked towards her and Teresa was sure he was going to unleash his savage fury on her next, but when he got to her, he was suddenly incredibly gentle. Dragging her into his arms, he cradled her against him and stroked her hair. “Teresa,” he whispered her name tenderly, and in that moment something inside Teresa shattered and her tears began to fall in earnest. For several minutes, she simply let Ryan hold her as she sobbed. Gradually, her pain and fear faded in the warmth of his embrace.

When she was spent, Ryan gently pulled back from her, steadily holding her gaze with anxious eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked. His face was still contorted in a mask of fury but his eyes were gentle with concern. There was something else there, too, but Teresa couldn’t put her finger on it. Not trusting herself to speak, she simply nodded. Helping her to her feet, Ryan walked her to his black Mercedes that he had haphazardly parked in his mad rush to get to Teresa, and gently helped her into the passenger seat. For several minutes, Teresa simply stared out of the passenger window as Ryan drove them out of the park. Her body shook slightly and her hands trembled. She was still dazed. Sneaking a quick glance at Ryan, Teresa’s breath caught in her throat. Ryan’s face was contorted with anger and his hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Teresa frowned, puzzled. She could clearly understand the violence of his emotions, but the rage that had gripped Ryan hinted at something deeper. **** Ryan silently fumed as he maneuvered out of the rocky park. He wanted to speak but he didn’t trust the words that would surely slip out of his mouth. He was still seething, too, and he was afraid if he did speak he might unleash his anger on her. He had told her not to go to prom with that thug! She had almost been raped and Ryan had wanted to kill Bruno for hurting her, but he was angry with her, too, for stubbornly refusing to heed the advice he had given her. When Ryan had walked into the bathroom earlier at the prom to take a “dance” break, he’d simply been trying to get away from Tracy's bold, clawing hands. She had proven to be a voracious date, who seemed convinced that it was Ryan's duty to calm her surging hormones. Ryan had the feeling that if he didn't stay on guard, Tracy could strip him naked in a matter of minutes, right there at the dance. He was in the restroom when he overheard two of his football team mates joking about how Bruno had bragged that he was going to “bang” Teresa later that night out at Rock Creek Point whether she was willing or not. “I'm getting a piece of that tonight,” he'd promised his buddies, “one way or the other.” Ryan had nearly gone insane. In a matter of minutes, he was peeling out of the Eastern Ridge High School parking lot and racing to the popular make-out point where he knew he would find Teresa and Bruno. His own date, Tracy, was forgotten entirely. He'd had this feeling all day, a sense of foreboding that had nagged him and had gotten worse as the evening progressed. Now it drove him nearly insane as he raced to Rock Creek Point. When Ryan saw Bruno’s red Mustang in the parking area there, he feared the worst. What if he was too late? What if it had already happened? Bruno was a bastard, one of those guys who think of nothing but themselves, and he was massive. If he decided to force himself on Teresa, she wouldn't have a chance. He parked his car haphazardly and jumped out, snatching up a tire iron without a thought of what he meant to do with it, but he approached Bruno's car more cautiously, his empty hand clenching and unclenching into a tight fist. Despite his anger, he didn't want to make a fool of himself. It was entirely possible that nothing was going on—or, if

it was, that Teresa was a willing partner to it. He'd look like a fool if he showed up in the midst of a serious romantic session between the two of them. When he got close enough, however, to see through the windows into the back seat of Bruno's car, rage roared through him like a wildfire. He could clearly see Teresa lying beneath Bruno and crying and struggling against the big brute. That scene alone would be forever imprinted in his brain. In that moment, his rage had bubbled over and Ryan had lost it. He swung the tire iron, breaking the back window with a single punch, and threw the iron aside. He didn't need it for what he intended to do. Ryan dragged the hulking Goliath out by his tuxedo jacket and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. Now as he sped through the city along Pennsylvania Avenue, Ryan still barely trusted himself to speak, but he didn't actually know where he was going. He needed directions from Teresa. “Where do you live?” he asked quickly, glancing sideways at her. What he saw when he looked into her eyes startled him. He had never known Teresa to be afraid of anything. Yet as she stared at him, her eyes were wide with fear, pleading silently with him. The knowledge that he had nearly been too late to save her almost sent him into another rage. He summoned every shred of self-discipline he had within himself to manage his temper. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him too. “I—I don’t want to go home yet,” Teresa said, stammering. “I mean, my mom has to work tonight and she won’t be home until nine in the morning.” She paused for a moment while she worriedly nibbled on her bottom lip. “Please, Ryan, I don’t want to be at the house by myself, after… after what happened,” she whispered, her hands still slightly shaking as her eyes pleaded with him. “Um, I don’t think…” “Please, Ryan,” Teresa whispered again, her eyes silently begging him to say yes. Groaning inwardly, Ryan sighed. He gripped the steering wheel even tighter and silently nodded. Twice in one night he didn’t trust himself to speak. His cock had grown painfully hard when she whispered his name. God! What he wouldn’t do to have her beneath him with her legs wrapped around his waist as he slammed into her over and over again while she whispered his name in that husky voice that sent tingles down his spine. Squeezing his eyes shut for just a second, Ryan struggled to clear his head. He couldn’t be alone with Teresa right now. He was feeling way too possessive and he knew Teresa was vulnerable from her ordeal. The last thing she needed was for him to stay with her. How could he possibly be alone with her without touching her? He couldn't, he was as certain of that as he had ever been of anything in his life. And he couldn't even explain it to her, either. He knew in her current state she would agree to anything he wanted. And afterward, she would think he was no better than that ape, Bruno. He couldn't bear to think of that. **** “Good afternoon, Teresa. It’s a pleasure to see you again after all these years.” Ryan nodded as he smiled slightly. At least, the corners of his mouth tilted upward slightly, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes. “I wish I could say the same,” Teresa replied in an icy voice.

Without waiting for an invitation, she plopped her curvy behind into the plush leather of the booth, and fixed him with her chilly gaze. “Yes, well, have a seat,” Ryan said dryly, frowning slightly. Teresa’s eyebrows lifted at the bite in his voice but before she could snap back at him, a waiter appeared at her elbow. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “A glass of chardonnay, please,” she said. Ignoring Ryan's hostile glare, she opened her menu. “So what’s good to eat here?” she asked pointedly. Ryan shifted slightly. “Don’t you even want to know why I invited you here?” he asked, glancing briefly at his own menu. He had to struggle, though, to focus on the menu. He clenched his lips tightly to suppress a groan that threatened to come from him uninvited. The smell of her perfume combined with her own feminine scent wafted towards him, filling his nostrils and making his head spin. She was intoxicating, even more than she had been before. The printing on the menu swam before his eyes. His thoughts drifted to what it would feel like to spread her legs wide and have her feminine scent wash over him as he buried his face in her pussy, devouring her. He couldn’t wait to have her beneath him as he fucked her brains out. Just having her this close was sending his senses into overdrive. Under the table, his cock hardened until it threatened to rip the zipper right out of his fly. Eyes still fixed on her menu, she shrugged. “I thought this had something to do with the script I just read, but I don’t see where you fit in.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Did you like it?” he asked casually, before returning his gaze to his menu. She nodded. “I did actually.” Cocking her head to the side she considered her next words. “It was amazing. The role of Casey Lane was so contextually rich and her character was mesmerizing.” The waiter appeared again to set a glass of wine on the table. She reached for it and took a sip before asking, “So, who wrote it?” Ryan set aside his menu and pinned her with a steady gaze. “I did,” he said evenly. Teresa nearly choked on her Chardonnay and actually had to struggle not to spit it across the table. She set aside her glass and lifted her hand to her mouth to muffle the violent coughs that racked her body. She’d known the writer and director were one and the same but she would never in her wildest dreams have suspected it was Ryan Dumont. Why the hell would she? When she discovered that Ryan was her lunch date, she had simply assumed he was the producer of the film. After all, with his family wealth, he could produce anything he wanted, and, since he knew her personally, she just supposed he had offered to meet with her instead of the writer/director. She had never imagined that Ryan might be the creative talent behind Nemesis. “What, are you serious? Ryan, that script was incredible.” Teresa's enthusiasm for the film bubbled over and for the moment she forgot all about her antipathy for the man sitting across from her. “Actually, it was brilliant. It was erotic and… wow, how did you write something so, well, so creative?” she asked finally, awe in her voice. Ryan arched an eyebrow. “You're saying you don’t think I am capable of writing good work?” “No! I didn’t mean that. I just… Well, in high school I never knew you wrote,” she finished weakly. Ryan glared at her steadfastly, his eyes penetrating. Teresa looked away from them.

“There is a lot you don’t know about me Teresa,” Ryan said softly. He leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into hers. “I’ve always been a writer. I did write stuff in high school, but my parents always made me keep it a secret. They thought I was too obsessed with something they considered a hobby, but it was never just a hobby to me. I have spent the last ten years writing scripts for film and theater.” “Oh really?” Teresa’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Then why haven’t I heard of you?” Ryan grinned. “You should have.” He folded his arms across his chest and sat back against the leather of the banquette. “Well actually you may have heard of my alias, Richard Drake.” Her mouth fell open. “What? That's you?” Teresa nearly swooned from surprise. She needed another drink! She snatched up her glass from the table and gulped down the rest of her wine. “My God, you were nominated for an Oscar and you won a Tony for your work,” she stammered. “You—but, the entire industry wonders who you are. You are never in public, and you always have your assistant accept your awards.” She paused to take a breath and shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. You are so talented. Why keep your identity a secret?” He shrugged. “A little bargain I made with my parents. They always hated my writing career, even when I became successful at it. I think they were embarrassed that I chose a career in what they considered the frivolous arts. So I promised them I would never bring attention to myself, only my work.” Ryan laughed bitterly. “I know my father always hoped I would go into politics, like my brother.” “Well, that’s just dumb,” she said testily. “They should be proud of what you do, because you do it so well. Your name is as famous as Spielberg's.” She was thinking how amazing it was. All these years, Ryan had been right under her nose. “But I don’t get it,” she said with a frown, “my agent told me the director wrote this film. If you wrote it, then who is going to direct it?” “Me,” he said with a smile. “You?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Have you ever directed a film before?” “No…” Oh great, she thought, another amateur director! They were the bane of the movie industry, in her opinion. Her enthusiasm began to fade. She couldn't help wondering if Ryan was truly capable of carrying a film as director. A script as good as Nemesis needed someone with Forrest Whittaker’s touch, or James Cameron’s, not some rank beginner. Another question suddenly popped into her mind. “But what about your promise to your parents, what about staying out of the limelight? If you start directing, there is no way that you will be able to avoid public scrutiny. If the film is a success, your name will be plastered all over town. All over the world, even.” He glanced down for just a second, and looked up again, his eyes meeting hers. “They died last year,” he said quietly. For just a moment, the carefully composed mask he wore slipped and she saw real grief in his expression. It was fleeting, however, and seconds later he had pushed that aside and composed himself once more, so quickly she might almost have thought she had imagined that quick look of pain. She had to fight the urge to reach for him, to comfort him. She restrained herself,

however, knowing he would not appreciate her expressions of sympathy. She felt sure Ryan wanted nothing from her, sympathy least of all. “They died in a car accident, on the night of their fortieth wedding anniversary.” He paused as if his mind were far away. “I genuinely do not want to dishonor their memory, but I feel that the promise I made to them… well, I doubt they can be ashamed of me now.” Teresa’s gaze softened. “I don’t think they were ever ashamed of you. They were probably very proud of you; they just didn’t understand what you did,” she whispered, her expression full of compassion. Their eyes locked. The air around them suddenly crackled with emotional tension. Teresa averted her eyes and cleared her throat, abruptly breaking the spell that had fallen over them. “Let’s get back to business,” she said in a no-nonsense voice. “So you have never directed… Do you really think you can do this?” The look she gave him was openly skeptical. Directing was a tough job and she had no desire to be a part of a well-written but poorly directed film. “I won’t know until I try, but I am up for the challenge.” She frowned. That wasn’t the response she was hoping for exactly, but she would have to live with it for now. She had fallen in love with the part of Casey Lane and couldn’t envision anyone playing the role but her. If this was the only way she could do it… “So what do you want from me?” she asked. “Why did you call Marty?” She was secretly hoping, of course, that Ryan was about to offer her the female lead in the film. Yet, she knew there was a catch, she and Ryan had been civil since she’d arrived, but they had a past, a bitter unresolved past—and she knew it wasn’t lost on either of them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that their past was the reason why she was here today. He might be considering her for a role in his film, but she felt sure he would never give her anything without an asking price. “I wanted to offer you the lead role as Casey Lane. I think you would be perfect for the part,” Ryan said. He smiled at her as he said it, but once again the smile didn't reach his eyes. Teresa didn't trust it for one minute. She knew there was more. “I am flattered and honored, and I accept,” she said. “You can work out the contract with my…” He interrupted her. “You haven’t heard my terms.” “As I was saying, you know my agent. Marty and your agent can work on the contract negotiations…” “I assure you, I will have my agent talk to Marty, but there is one part of the negotiations, as you put it, which is just between you and me, no contract involved.” Ryan spoke softly, his eyes focusing intently on her. Teresa’s back tensed. Oh shit! Here it comes, she thought, the bombshell. She knew there had to be a catch. There always was with Ryan. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.” “The part is yours, on one condition.” Teresa’s breath lodged in her chest as she waited. “From the first day of shooting, until the last, you will not only play the lead role in my film, but you will also play the lead role in my bedroom, as my mistress,” Ryan said

quietly, his voice so eerily calm that he could have been describing the weather. “What?” she demanded, surprised at his boldness. Her palms itched to slap his smug face. “I thought I was clear enough. I want you to be my mistress, Teresa.” Ryan whispered again. Sweat gathered between her breasts as she felt the tension rising in her body. Her temper had been close to erupting since he'd first named the condition for giving her the part. Now it erupted. Her whole body began to shake with anger. “I know you don’t think I am going to be your whore just to get this role,” she said in a hiss of controlled fury. “I didn’t say that…” “You might as well have. You sick, depraved pervert! What happened to you, Ryan? I can’t remember you being such a bastard in the past.” Ryan eyes hardened at her insult. “This is Hollywood, Teresa. You, of all people, should be intimately familiar with what goes on around here…” Whack! She hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could. She couldn't believe he had just dared to insinuate that she had accepted similar propositions before! She didn’t want to hear another word from his vile mouth. The restaurant suddenly grew silent as everyone looked in their direction. Teresa took a deep breath to calm herself and leaned back in the booth as if nothing had happened, smiling at him like an angel. More like a she-devil, Ryan thought. Several tense moments passed in silence between them. Eventually the other patrons of The Zanzibar decided that the show was over, and resumed their busy chatter. The couple in the corner was far from finished with their conversation, however. “Someone needs to teach you some manners,” Ryan said through clenched teeth, “or you just need a course in anger management.” “I could say the same for you,” Teresa shot back, her eyes flashing with anger. “Besides you had that coming. Ryan, I will not prostitute myself for this role or any role. I am a good actress and I do good work. I may not be a superstar, but I am known in this industry for my professionalism. I have consistently received parts since I moved out here, and I don’t need to sell my body to get them.” Ryan shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, handing a business card across the table. “But if you change your mind, call me. My cell number is on the back.” Teresa started not to take the card but people were still glancing in their direction from time to time and she didn’t want to draw any more attention to them by causing another scene. She took it from him, stuffing it into her purse, and stood up gracefully. With as much dignity as she could muster, she looked down her nose at Ryan and leaned in towards him, her lips within inches of his. The people watching them might have thought she was going to kiss him. “Go to hell!” was the last thing she whispered to him before she stormed out of the restaurant. Ryan remained where he was, staring after her. God, she still had the most beautiful ass in the entire world. He sighed and adjusted himself in his trousers. It would be a few minutes before he could risk standing up and walking through the crowded dining room.

Chapter Two The son of a bitch had blacklisted her! She hadn’t been able to get any work in over a month. She had never gone without something for more than two weeks. At first she thought it was just a fluke, but finally Marty told her that some big name writer with major clout in the industry had issued serious threats to anyone who dared to offer her a role. “I can't get the name of the jerk from anyone, either,” Marty said. “If I could, I'd threaten the bastard with a lawsuit.” Teresa didn’t need to get the name from anybody. She already knew the bastard who was behind this. Son of a goddamn bitch Ryan Dumont, that was who! Marty gave her a suspicious look. “I don't suppose you have any idea who it is?” she asked, as if she was reading Teresa's mind. “Of course not,” Teresa snapped, but Marty was nobody’s fool. She continued to look across her desk at Teresa until Teresa finally cracked. “It's Ryan Dumont,” she said. “Only, you know him as Richard Drake.” “Richard Drake? Jesus, no wonder everybody is so scared.” Marty slammed a hand down on her desk. “Well, I don't care how big he is, he can't get away with this. I'm going to sue his balls off.” Teresa had never seen her so mad “That would only make it worse,” argued Teresa. “Are you kidding me? This is definitely sexual harassment. We are taking his ass to court!” “Marty, you know as well as I do, this shit happens every day in this business. Besides suing him would only end up hurting me and my career. No, I am going to settle this my way.” “What are you going to do?” Sighing, Teresa ran a hand through her hair and just shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have to do something, and fast.” **** That had been more than a month ago. Tough words then, but now she didn’t feel so tough. She had enough in the bank to tide her over for at least another six months, but the bottom line was, if she didn’t get off his stupid blacklist, she would have to give up acting in LA and return to her career on Broadway in New York. Teresa couldn’t do that. It would be admitting defeat. She had fought long and hard to establish herself in Hollywood. She would be damned if her arch nemesis ruined all of her hard work. Besides Teresa couldn’t lie to herself any longer. The idea of becoming Ryan’s mistress didn’t bother her in the least. It was the way he had offered it that pissed her off. So smug and sure of himself that she would instantly accept. To further complicate matters, ever since their meeting at The Zanzibar, she had been having erotic dreams of Ryan, dreams in which Ryan fucked her senseless. Each morning she would wake up to find a pool of wet heat between her thighs. Even now, just thinking about him, she was

wet. She had to face the truth. She still wanted Ryan. She always had. Since that night, the night of the prom… **** Ryan couldn’t take Teresa to his house because his parents were home. And she still refused to go to her own home. Eventually, he had settled on taking her to the pool house at his own home. This time of night, there was little chance that his parents would be using the pool. The “pool house” was in fact a cozy three-bedroom cottage separated from the main house by a small grove of lemon trees. Even if someone happened to look out from a window in the main house, they would not see the lights on there. It was the perfect place for Teresa to stay. He could sneak her out at eight in the morning and take her home before her mother returned from work, and no one would ever even know she had been there. Teresa stood in the living room of the cottage. The pastel décor and wicker furniture gave it a cozy feeling. It was a nice place. A sense of peace settled over her as she continued to look around. She felt safe here. She heard a noise behind her and turned to watch Ryan as he dashed back and forth gathering towels and toiletries for her to use. She knew once he found everything he would leave, but she really didn’t want him to go. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She just didn’t want to be alone. Finally, Ryan stood in the doorway and glanced around the living room of the cottage, trying to make sure she had everything. “Ok. I think that's it,” he said. “You should be all set here. I'll pick you up in the morning, okay?” “Ryan,” Teresa whispered, “Don't go. Stay with me, please.” * Jesus, Teresa, don’t do this, Ryan thought in agony. She was killing him. He shook his head, struggling to find his voice. “No. Teresa. I can’t,” he managed to choke out at last. “Please, Ryan,” Teresa pleaded again. She took a step towards him so she could wind her arms around his waist and rest her head against his chest. Ryan's chivalrous thoughts withered and died. He had tried. God knows he had tried, but when her soft full breasts pressed into his chest, his control snapped. He wrapped his arms around her, and felt himself instantly harden. Grasping her chin in his hand he tilted her head back so that he could look into her eyes before he kissed her. Ryan’s mouth came down hard and covered hers. His kiss was deep and burning with all of the pent up passion and residual anger that coursed through his body. Teresa slipped her tongue between Ryan’s parted lips, making their kiss hotter still. A muffled groan escaped from Ryan. He held her even closer, crushing her body to his, letting her feel his heavy erection as it pressed against her stomach. Teresa tightened her arms about him and pressed back with all the lush fullness of her body. He let out a low growl while his hands tugged gently at her already ripped gown. It gave way in seconds. Her bra soon followed. Her panties were not a problem, they were still somewhere in Bruno’s car. Ryan moved away from her long enough to stare at her for several seconds. “God.

You are beautiful,” he whispered in a ragged voice. His dark eyes blazed with arousal as he grasped her breasts in his hands, kneading the full mounds softly. He dropped to his knees and took one nipple and then the other into his mouth. Back and forth, he kept alternating between her left and right breast as he sucked and licked on her large nipples like they were candy. Teresa’s head rolled back limply as she moaned. Abruptly releasing her breasts, Ryan quickly shed his dress shoes, then his tuxedo and dress shirt, and finally his briefs. He studied Teresa closely. Her eyes were wide with shock as she stared down at his stiff erection. He could see the apprehension on her face. With gentle hands, he dragged her into his embrace and tenderly laid her down on the floor, covering her with his body. He put his legs between hers, spreading hers wide with his knees, and settled between her thighs. His mouth covered hers again in a searing kiss. Taking his dick in one hand, he brought his cockhead to the entrance of her pussy. Ryan broke the kiss so that he could look into Teresa’s eyes as he entered her. His jaw tensing, he thrust deeply into her in one smooth stroke. His breath caught in his lungs and his eyes widened when Teresa screamed beneath him. He couldn’t see into her eyes anymore because they were shut tight, although tears glistened on her cheeks. Muscles tense, Ryan lay frozen atop Teresa. His body trembled as he struggled to remain still, but his cock continued to pulse and throb inside of her. “Jesus Christ,” he silently cursed himself. What had he been thinking? It hadn't even occurred to him that she had never… She had dated Dan Chavez, the senior class president, all through her junior year. He had just supposed… “I thought,” he stammered, “I mean, you were with Dan all of last year. I just… shit, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” Ryan struggled to take in a normal breath while his eyes searched her face for answers. Teresa opened her eyes and looked up into his face. “I didn’t with Dan—I mean I just never felt close enough to him to actually have sex with him. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.” Ryan groaned and rested his forehead against hers. Why was she so damned exasperating? Only Teresa would think losing her virginity wasn’t a big deal. His body began to shake. “God, Teresa. We should stop,” he whispered. It was his turn to close his eyes. He was afraid that he would see regret in hers. He knew he should pull out of her now, but he wasn't sure he had the willpower to do that. As if sensing his hesitation, Teresa ran her hands down his back, stroking the hard muscles, and arched her hips into Ryan, taking him deeper. He knew it must have caused her some pain when she grimaced, but he could see the determination in her eyes. “Don’t stop, Ryan,” she murmured. “Please make love to me.” She stroked his cheek with one hand and gently kissed his chest and shoulders. “Are you sure?” he asked. He stared into her eyes, his breath quick and ragged. When she nodded, he released what sounded like a sigh of joy. He would have stopped had she asked it of him, but it would have killed him. He began slowly stroking in and out of her with the utmost gentleness, going deeper with each thrust—yet he struggled to hold back. He was afraid he would hurt her. “Oh God, Teresa. You are so tight and your pussy just feels so good,” he groaned, gradually thrusting his cock deeper and harder

* With each thrust, Teresa’s breasts bounced back and forth and Ryan fixated on them. Teresa had always thought her breasts were too big and saggy for someone as young as she was, but apparently Ryan reveled in her body. He continually stroked and kissed her breasts all the while whispering how fucking gorgeous she was. Teresa could only stare at Ryan as he made love to her with his magnificent body. Even feeling him deep inside her, she could hardly believe Ryan Dumont was fucking her—and he seemed to be enjoying it too! She had always been sure that Ryan thought her beneath him, hated her even. Yet here he was, fucking her furiously, pounding into her pussy, all of his restraint now abandoned. It was hard to believe that the same person who claimed to despise her was now worshipping every inch of her body. Teresa could feel Ryan tense up and knew that he was close to coming. “Wrap your legs around my waist, Teresa,” he demanded, slamming into her tight sheath over and over, his voice no more than a rasp. “I need to get deeper inside you, I want to go all the way. I want to be in you up to my balls.” Teresa did as he asked. Her body protested its discomfort, but she didn’t stop or hold back in any way. It was such a heady feeling to know that she had brought the allpowerful Ryan Dumont to such a place of mindless desperation that he now begged her to fuck him hard. She felt him stiffen abruptly. He seemed to drive himself to some incredible new depth within her and his muscles tensed like rock. He came with a hoarse cry, his body convulsing with climatic tremors as his cock spurted jets of hot cum deep into her pussy, drenching the inside of her. Finally spent, he collapsed atop her in exhaustion. He remained there for several moments before he remembered how heavy he was and rolled off of her. Now that it was over Teresa’s head spun, her thoughts and emotions colliding violently. She had just felt so vulnerable after Bruno's attack. She had foolishly launched herself at her savior head first, with no thoughts of the consequences, but now she felt that having sex with Ryan had been such a huge mistake. She knew what his parents thought of her. Hell, she knew what he thought of her, he had never treated her with anything but disdain and scorn, and now she had done the one thing guaranteed to earn his scorn. She'd not only given herself to him, she had begged him for it, like a shameless wanton. She needed to get out of there and fast! “I—I need to go,” Teresa stammered. She scrambled to her feet and began hastily to clothe herself in what was left of her prom outfit. Ryan sat up, staring at her with an expression both bewildered and concerned. “Teresa, what is it?” he asked. “What's wrong?” “Nothing,” she said curtly. “I just need to go home.” She ignored the tender concern in his eyes. It was too late for that kind of tenderness between them. For a long moment more, Ryan just stared at her. Finally, as if realizing she had no intention of explaining herself, he nodded stiffly and got up as well. Dressing quickly, he jerked on his pants and dress shirt. She could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that he was angry with her. “Are you ready?” he asked brusquely. “Yes,” she nodded and allowed him to usher her out of the cottage and back to the Mercedes parked in the driveway.

Lost in their own thoughts, both of them failed to notice the silhouette of Fatima Dumont among the citrus trees. She silently watched their hasty departure, her lips pursed in anger. **** A car horn blared in the distance, startling Teresa from her memories, memories she knew could only destroy the peace of mind she had worked so hard to achieve since that fateful night. She was seated at the desk in her home office, where she loved to read her scripts. She grimaced at the empty surface of her desk. There was not a single script there for her to read. Those hot memories had distracted her, too, from the reason why she hadn’t received any work in a month. Teresa knew she would have to cave in to Ryan’s demands. Making love to him was not the problem. She was too honest with herself to try to kid herself about that. She had never been with any man who had given her the intense pleasure that Ryan had that one time they had made love, and she knew beyond a doubt that it would be just as wonderful the second time around. She just hated the way he had thrown it at her. His proposition made her feel so cheap, so desperate, so powerless. Yet, she couldn’t go on like this. She wanted that role and she knew she wanted Ryan too. Just not like this. **** Ryan didn’t think Teresa would ever call. In a weird way he was sort of proud of her for holding out so long. It only further proved to him that she still possessed that notorious stubborn streak, although he and his bruised cheek already knew that. Plus, he couldn't help but admire her for standing up for her principles. So when his phone rang that evening he had almost shouted with relief. Neither of them minced words. “Teresa, this really makes me…” he started to say. “This is not a love affair, Ryan,” she cut him off. “It is strictly business, and let's leave it at that.” After a moment, he said, simply, “Agreed.” He had no intention of leaving it at that, as a matter of fact. What he had in mind for Teresa was much more than a few weeks of wrestling in bed—but for the moment, he'd won, and he thought it was wise to let it rest there. They limited their discussion to the details of their pact. Ryan had gone ahead with pre-production details for the film, despite the absence of a female lead, convinced that Teresa would give in eventually. This meant Teresa had to hurry and play catch-up before shooting began, just a few days from now. Arrangements also had to be made to move some of her things into his place. “Make no mistake about it,” he told her firmly, “for the next several months, Teresa, you will be spending your days and your nights in my company.” Teresa let out a low hiss as if she were unhappy over his declaration. But he wondered, though, just how unhappy she really was when he heard what sounded like a low moan, before she hung up on him.

Chapter Three Teresa barely managed to drag her weary body back to her trailer. The first day of shooting had been grueling and she was exhausted. The one thing she hated the most about being a professional actress was the fifteen to twenty hour workdays that one sometimes had to endure. Only Gable had been a big enough star to have a five o'clock quitting time written into his contracts. Everyone else worked until the director told them it was time to go—or, they went into a coma. Despite her weariness, however, the first day had been sensational, magical even. She could feel her excitement building as she thought about how much she loved the brilliant role she was playing. Tonight, though, she would play another role and she could now feel the excitement building in other places as well. The ride to Ryan’s estate in Bel Air was heavy with tension. Teresa's stomach churned in the grip of nervousness, and she silently drummed her fingers against her thighs, trying to ease her rising panic. Neither of them spoke the entire trip. Ryan focused on driving and Teresa stared out of the passenger seat window, trying to concentrate on the sights and sounds of Los Angeles. By the time Ryan parked his vintage Mercedes in one of his four garages, Teresa was wound tighter than a bow. What’s wrong with you? she asked herself. It isn’t like you haven’t had sex before. Actually, she loved sex. This wasn't just sex, though, it was sex with Ryan and she knew all too well that sex with Ryan was exciting beyond imagining, but it also came with a high price. Okay so we're home. Now what? she thought as she stepped into the lovely Bel Air mansion that Ryan called home. She glanced around and nodded appreciatively, trying to distract herself from the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. They were in the foyer, which was as large as the entire house she had lived in as a girl. Deep-piled white rugs covered most of a green and onyx marble floor, an arrangement of yellow chrysanthemums stood against one wall on a glass and chrome table, and on the other was an elegant Italian sofa in white satin, with a pale green silk throw gracefully arranged upon it. Finally, when she could ignore him no longer, she turned to stare at Ryan, standing close behind her. She gasped softly before she could stop herself. Desire had darkened his eyes to a midnight black, and the look he gave her was so incendiary, it could have melted steel. He silently crossed the distance between them. His eyes still burned with lust, but the look he gave her was apologetic as well. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. “It’s just, now that I have you here, I am finding it hard to keep my hands off of you.” Teresa nodded, her eyes widening fractionally. The muscle in Ryan’s jaw twitched as if he were fighting some inner struggle. His gaze slid over her, devouring her lush figure. Abruptly, he took both her hips in his hands and tugged her toward him “God,

Teresa, I want you,” he whispered. She was electrified by the intensity of his revelation. She nodded dumbly as his heavily muscled arms easily wrapped around her and his soft, warm lips quickly descended upon hers. His tongue invaded her mouth. Teresa’s body began to tingle all over as Ryan’s kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. God, the man was driving her insane. Ryan's cock hardened against her, and she moaned slightly. She wanted to strip him naked; she wanted to feel that big cock inside of her. As if he had read her mind, Ryan began quickly to undress them both. In what seemed mere seconds, their clothes were scattered about them on the floor and he had them both lying on the plush rugs in his foyer. Settling atop her, Ryan groaned softly. His lips left her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck, to her breasts. He took one hardened, brown nipple in his mouth and began to suck, and bite and then soothe it with gentle kisses. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “God. I love your tits. You have always had such beautiful tits.” He worshiped her breasts with his mouth until she was dripping wet all over her thighs and the carpet. He didn’t stop his sensual assault on her body there, though. He gently licked and showered kisses down her shapely body until he got to her pussy. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. He parted Teresa’s thighs and began to fuck her with two of his fingers. Teresa arched her back off of the floor, grinding her pussy to the rhythm of his fingers. She clawed desperately at his shoulders. “Ryan,” she crooned his name aloud. She could feel her orgasm upon her, and knew that Ryan could too. “Not yet, baby,” he said with a soft laugh in his throat. “I want you to come all over my mouth. Don’t waste it yet.” Teresa’s eyes began to roll back in her head from the sheer pleasure of her impending orgasm. Ryan descended on her pussy like a starving man. He gently licked her clit and the folds of her pussy, and began to fuck her with his mouth, his tongue darting in and out of her tight hole. Teresa couldn’t hold back any longer. She grabbed his head and began to grind her pussy into his face. Suddenly the first spasm of her orgasm surged through her. She dug her nails into the back of Ryan’s head and screamed his name. Ryan worked his lips and his tongue furiously to lap up her pussy juices. “Mmmm, you taste like honey,” he said finally. “I need to fuck you, Teresa, I need to be inside your pussy!” “No,” Teresa said abruptly. She quickly switched positions on him. Ryan’s eyes rounded in shock as he started to protest. Teresa didn’t give him the chance to say much. In two seconds she had him on his back and had fastened one hand at the base of his thick cock, while the other stroked his balls. “It’s my turn to taste you.” She grinned up at him. Ryan sucked in a noisy breath as Teresa’s full, supple lips descended upon the large, mushroom head of his cock. His hands gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. At first she took him slowly down her throat. He was a large man and it took her a moment to adjust to his size. Gradually she began to increase her pace, her head bobbing

furiously up and down on his cock, her lips sucking on him hard. As if from a great distance, she heard Ryan moan her name. She could taste the precum in her mouth and it was intoxicating. She began to suck his cock deeper and harder. She was out of control, aflame with the passion he had aroused in her. She wanted to feel his hot cum in her mouth, to taste his juices. She wanted him to spill his seed down her throat. “No, Teresa, stop, please,” Ryan begged in a hoarse voice. He tried to push her head away. “I want to come inside you.” Teresa only increased her pace. She knew he was close to coming when she felt his hips lift off the floor and he tried to ram his cock deeper into her mouth. She felt him desperately push against her head while she let his cock hit the back of her throat. She delighted in the feeling of power that she now had over the mighty Ryan Dumont. Ryan growled deep in his throat and stiffened. His huge cock grew unbelievably larger still, swelling in her mouth seconds before it exploded, shooting hot spurts of semen down her throat. Teresa felt his cum flood against the back of her throat and moaned with pleasure. “Oh God, Teresa, Yes, Teresa. Yesssssss!” Ryan shouted aloud. He held her head firmly in place while he continued to thrust his cock into her mouth and spurt cum down her throat. It was all Teresa could do to keep up with him and not choke on the torrent of cum that erupted out of him like water from a fire hose. Finally, the spurts began to dwindle, but she continued to milk his cock until she was sure she had gotten every last drop out of it. Suddenly Ryan pulled out of her mouth. Teresa gasped with surprise as he flipped her onto her back and settled between her thighs. “You don’t listen. I told you I wanted to come inside you,” he grinned. Teresa gave him a wicked smile and again took hold of his cock. It was still poker stiff “It feels like you will definitely still be able to do that,” she said. Ryan glanced down too, to where she held his throbbing dick in her fingers. “I think you are right,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Now open for me, Teresa.” She didn’t have to be asked twice. The head of Ryan’s cock nudged against the entrance of her pussy and she was eager to have it stuffed inside her. Ryan gasped as he stroked the head of his dick in and out of the mouth of her pussy. “You are so tight,” he said through clenched teeth. She gasped as he tried to penetrate deeper into her tight passage. She had forgotten how huge he was. “Honey, I don’t want to hurt you. Open for me some more,” he growled, his jaw tight. “Ryan, it’s okay,” she whispered as she stroked his sweat soaked back. “You don’t have to hold back.” She groaned as she grabbed his hips and practically impaled herself on his huge cock. Spreading her legs as wide as possible, she lifted herself slightly off the floor, forcing Ryan to fill her pussy to the hilt. “Shit, Teresa!” “Oh God, Ryan!” She knew she was going to be sore in the morning, but it felt good to have his enormous cock buried to the hilt in her pussy. Ryan began to plunge in and out of her, the muscles in his shoulders bunched into hard knots. With deep, stabbing strokes, he slammed violently into her, his face taut with tension. Roughly he spread her thighs as far as they would go and held her spread eagled

while his cock pounded in and out of her eager pussy. Teresa felt the change in Ryan. It was as if desperation had seized him. She loved it! She couldn’t stop the hoarse screams that tumbled from her throat each time his cock slammed back into her tight hole. She couldn’t stop coming all over his cock as he fucked her deep and hard. * Ryan was losing his mind. He wanted to slow down. He wanted to be gentle for her, yet he couldn’t stop fucking Teresa like a man possessed. She felt so good and he had waited so long. He didn’t care that her nails would probably leave deep scars where she clawed at his shoulders. He didn’t care if the neighbors could hear them. All he cared about was that he had the woman who had been his obsession since he was sixteen screaming his name from beneath him, with her legs open wide, and his cock pounding into her. Nothing in his life compared to this. For this moment, at least, nothing else even mattered. He clenched his eyes tight and struggled to hold back his climax. He wanted it to last forever, but he sensed another orgasm building inside of Teresa and he knew he was lost. As her muscles tightened around his cock, he felt himself slipping. He gripped her thighs, spreading her as wide as she could go, and began to plunge into her furiously. Deep and hard, Ryan worked his dick in and out of Teresa’s tight pussy. He couldn’t stop slamming his cock into her. Abruptly, he stiffened and gave a strangled cry. His cock erupted and he began to spurt hot jets of semen into Teresa’s womb. “Oh Teresa, baby. Yes, baby!” “Yes, Ryan, Ryannnnn!” Teresa screamed, as a strong climax rocked through her body and shattered the last vestiges of her control. Trembling violently, she pumped her hips up at Ryan, riding out her climax until she was spent. She seemed to come back to earth when Ryan’s slick and sweaty body collapsed on top of her. Gently, he rolled them over so that Teresa’s body rested atop his. He reached up to grab the silk throw from the Italian sofa, and covered them with it. They both struggled to breathe normally, neither uttering a word. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep in one another's arms.

Chapter Four Beep! Beep! Beep! Teresa groaned and she buried her head beneath her soft pillow, struggling to block out the offending noise that was intruding upon her lovely sleep. She suddenly shot awake, realizing belatedly that the noise was coming from her alarm clock. She glanced sleepy-eyed at the clock and swore softly. “Damn it.” She’d overslept and if she didn’t move her tail she wouldn’t make it to the set by six. Ryan was a hard-ass about punctuality. A smile touched the corners of her mouth as she quickly bounced out of bed. He was a hard-ass about a lot of things when it came to this film. This was his baby. No matter what they shared at night, Teresa knew he would never show her any favoritism on the set and he definitely would not tolerate unprofessional behavior. That included showing up late. Stepping into the shower, she let the cool water soothe her awake, hoping it would also ease her apprehension. She lathered herself all over with the imported French soap and tried to quiet her restless thoughts. What had she gotten herself into? How was she going to make it through the entire filming without losing a piece of herself to Ryan? She could not afford to make the same mistake twice. She could not let her heart grow soft towards Ryan again, especially when she knew he did not share the same tender feelings towards her. As her stomach twisted into even tighter knots, she let out a frustrated sigh. She had to remind herself that Ryan wouldn’t hesitate to bail on her if he thought for a second that she was growing to care for him again. Unfortunately she was intimately familiar with Ryan’s love ’em and leave ’em attitude. Hadn't it happened just that way before, after that first time they had been together, in the cottage by the swimming pool… **** At first, after she and Ryan had made love in the little pool cottage, Teresa had been all confused, her emotions a whirlwind of conflict. For a while she had completely avoided him, but Ryan refused to accept that. He insisted on seeing her, on talking to her. He said over and over again that he would accept nothing less between them than a serious, committed relationship. “I want you for my girl, Teresa,” he had said repeatedly. “I won't take no for an answer.” Eventually, he wore down her defenses. Still, even as she finally said yes, she had her reservations. She told him she was simply not ready to “come out” as an official couple. Reluctantly, Ryan had agreed. They met secretly after school and he snuck around his house late at night, making secret phone calls to her. To her surprise, he even honored Teresa’s request to wait until they were an official couple before making love again, although he made no secret of the fact that it was far from easy for him. “But when will that be?” he had asked.

She thought for a moment. “After graduation,” she said finally. Ryan groaned. “So long?” he protested, but Teresa was adamant, and he agreed with a long-suffering sigh. He would do anything to please her, and he knew that she was right about one thing: once their secret was out, his parents would raise all kinds of hell for them. During their late night phone calls, they even talked about going to college in the same area. For a month after the prom, they both walked around on cloud nine, basking in the glow of their new-found secret romance. Graduation was now only days away, and they both looked forward to it anxiously. Yet suddenly, the late night phone calls stopped. Graduation came and went, and Teresa heard nothing from Ryan. A week passed, then two. Week after miserable week went by with no word from Ryan. Teresa grew depressed, crying herself to sleep night after night. She tried to call him and discovered that his cell phone had been disconnected. She even thought of showing up at his home, and almost did so, but at the last minute, she couldn't bring herself to do it. That was just pathetic, wasn't it, chasing after a man when he'd made it clear he was no longer interested in you? Besides, she lived outside of the social circle that Ryan and his family occupied and it would only cause a scandal if she visited him without an invitation. An invitation she knew she would never receive as long as Fatima Dumont had her way. She and Ryan had rarely seen each other outside of school and now, with school over, she had no way of getting into contact with him. She was frustrated by her powerlessness. She had been so certain that he really cared for her, but by July she knew that she had just been a fool. By then she had learned that Ryan had headed off to summer football camp at UCLA where he would stay until classes started in the fall. Everything they talked about had been a lie! Ryan had told her that he didn’t want to play football anymore and was instead interested in attending NYU and studying film. When he had told her that, she’d been ecstatic. She planned to attend Columbia in the fall. Together, in a new city, they would finally have the chance to date like a normal couple, away from the prying eyes of their parents. None of it had been real. Ryan had lied to her about that, the same as he had about everything else, and then he had left for UCLA without even saying good-bye. It took Teresa almost two years to trust another man again, and if she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that she’d never really gotten over Ryan’s betrayal. **** Shooting that day was a nightmare. Teresa arrived fifteen minutes late, which had really set Ryan off. He’d been furious. His ominous presence in her dressing room made her make-up artist so nervous that the poor girl messed up three times. Unsettled by the events from the night before and her own nagging thoughts, Teresa continuously fumbled her lines, which only added to the disastrous situation. “Teresa, what the hell is wrong with you?” Ryan demanded at one point. “I’m sorry,” Teresa said, and meant it. “My mind is elsewhere. I’m trying my best.” “Well get your head out of the clouds and try harder!” Ryan’s face was a mask of fury, but Teresa was not afraid of the big, bad Dumont. “I said I was trying,” she snapped back at him. “Now if you think you can do better,

then get your lazy ass out of that stupid chair and play Ms. Casey Lane your own damn self!” A hush settled over the set. All eyes fixed on the director and his star. “Everyone, lets break for lunch,” Ryan said tersely. “Teresa, in my office—now.” Pissed, Teresa struggled to rein in her temper as she shot daggers at Ryan’s broad back. She tried not to become distracted, but it was tempting to let her eyes drink in his sexy ass, and muscular arms and back. Fuck him, she thought, I don’t care how fine he is, he has lost what little brain he possesses if he thinks he can talk to me like I am some dumb bimbo. I am a classically trained actress with not one, but two degrees in theater. I know how to do my damn job. Secretly, however, she would readily admit that she wasn’t doing her best today. **** Ryan honestly didn’t know why he was so angry with her. Yes, Teresa was struggling with her lines, but she was still pulling it together. The other actors were having just as difficult a time. The first week of shooting was always a challenge. Even as a neophyte director, he knew that much. It took a while for the cast and crew to get in sync, but he could see they were doing their best. Knowing this, Ryan couldn’t understand why he was being so hard on Teresa. She was working hard, and she was trying. Yet, ever since she arrived late that morning he’d been in a bad mood. If he were really going to be honest with himself, he'd have to say that, ever since Teresa walked into The Zanzibar over two months ago, it had seemed as if he couldn’t get a hold of himself or his moods. It was like he was in high school all over again. Last night had been the second most incredible night of his life. So why couldn’t he just enjoy the fact that she was his, if only for a short while? Although he wouldn’t readily admit it, even to himself, in his heart, Ryan knew why. He was quickly coming to the realization that he might not have the strength to let Teresa go again. Letting her go before, that other time, had been the most difficult thing he'd ever done in his life… **** Somehow his mother had found out about him and Teresa. Ryan had never understood why his mother disliked Teresa so much, but it had never been more evident than the night of his high school graduation. He’d been in the middle of dialing Teresa’s phone number when his mother stormed into his room. “You will not call that little tramp anymore! You hear me, Ryan Dumont!” Ryan had been so stunned by her outburst that it took him several moments to realize that she was referring to Teresa. “But Mom…” “Ryan, I have worked too hard to watch you throw your future away on that girl. Tomorrow morning you are leaving for Kuwait, where you will stay with my parents until it is time for football camp. Do you hear me, Ryan? You so much as breathe her name and I swear to you that I will call Columbia and have her scholarship withdrawn.” Ryan’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Mom, you wouldn't do that to her, would

you?” “I can, and I will, if you force me.” “Can't you leave Teresa alone, Mom? She’s a good person.” He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Who was this hateful, bitter woman standing before him? She was like a stranger, not the mother he had known and loved all his life. “Ryan, I’m sure you think she’s a good person,” she said in a more conciliatory voice, “but she will trap you before you know it. I will not allow that to happen.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you slept with her, Ryan, the night of the prom. And I also know that girls like her will use that to snare you. She is the type of girl who gets pregnant to catch a rich man. I will not just stand by and watch that gold digging whore ruin your life. Either stay away from her or you can watch me destroy your precious girlfriend's future. It’s your choice, Ryan. You go near her and I will not hesitate to call President Montgomery at Columbia. I will do everything in my power to crush her. And you know that I do not make idle threats.” Ryan sat stunned as Fatima Dumont snatched the cell phone out of his hand and stormed out of his room, slamming his bedroom door. Ryan felt completely powerless. He did indeed know his mother, and she wasn’t in the habit of making empty threats. If she said she would ruin Teresa, Ryan knew she wouldn’t rest until she did. If it were only himself, his own future, he wouldn't give a damn. He would survive somehow anyway. But it was different for Teresa. She was a woman, and she didn't have his background or his advantages. He couldn't let his mother carry out her threats. Angrily, Ryan ran a hand through his hair. He could never explain to Teresa, either. She wouldn’t understand that he was doing this to protect her. But, without an explanation, he knew that she would hate him. Seething with frustration and rage, Ryan unleashed all of his pent up fury on his room, systematically destroying every single possession that was visible. Pictures, stereo, music discs, his guitar, all were smashed to smithereens in the storm of his anger, leaving his room in shambles. Finally spent, Ryan collapsed onto his bed, still struggling to control his churning fury. He did not sleep at all that night—nor for many of the nights that followed. **** Slam! The room vibrated from the sheer force that Teresa put into closing the door behind them. “How dare you embarrass me like that?” she demanded hotly. “How dare you treat me like some stupid, idiot child in front of the entire cast and crew?” Teresa’s hands clenched and unclenched into fists. Her face burned with the heat of her anger. “I dare because this is my film! If you don’t know your damn lines then I am the one who is held accountable,” Ryan roared back at her. The two stood head to head and toe to toe like wild cats in the jungle right before they pounce. “I know my lines, asshole!” “Then say them and say them right. Is that too damned much to ask?” “I told you that…” “I don’t want to hear anymore excuses,” Ryan said, with a note of finality. “And

keep your voice down. The entire world can hear your banshee screams.” Teresa’s voice dropped to an indignant whisper. “I hate you,” she said, punctuating each word softly. Ryan’s face darkened with anger. He strode quickly toward her and grabbed her firmly by her arms, dragging her body against his. His jaw clenched with tension, he demanded, “Do you? I think you want to, but you can’t. I think you hate yourself because you want to hate me, but you can’t,” Ryan whispered angrily before he crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was brutal, bruising. There was nothing gentle about any of Ryan’s actions at the moment. Anger radiated from him in waves. She could feel the heat of it as it coursed through his body. It seemed even to seep through their clothing, to inflame her skin. You think you can punish me by using my body, you bastard, Teresa thought angrily. Well, go ahead, but this will be the last time you touch me, I swear it. Teresa knew that was a lie even as she thought it, but with desire coursing through her body, the empty words fueled the anger she was desperately trying to hold on to. “Take off your costume. I don’t want to ruin it,” Ryan whispered against her mouth. Later, Teresa would try to figure out why she listened to any of the commands he gave her so imperiously, but consumed with her own lust as she was at that moment, she quickly did as he instructed and removed her costume. She suddenly felt vulnerable, standing before him in nothing but a lacy, black push-up bra and matching bikini panties. She struggled to cover herself with her hands. “I don’t know why you are trying to hide your loveliness from me now, when I saw every beautiful inch of you last night,” Ryan said with a croak of a laugh. “Well, if we’re just going to stand here and stare at each other, you can at least get me a robe,” she snapped. Teresa felt exposed and she needed to quickly clothe herself before she lost any advantage that she’d had when they began fighting. “Why, when I’m just going to take it right off of you again?” Ryan grinned as he pulled her back into his arms, but Teresa was not letting him get away with anything further. Bracing her hands against his chest, she made a valiant attempt to push him away, but he easily overpowered her. Once again he had her back in his arms and was kissing her with a wild and desperate hunger. “No,” she moaned. Despite her intentions, her arms wrapped around his neck. What the hell was she doing? Why couldn't she resist his advances? Why did she always turn into putty in his hands? “Yes, Teresa,” Ryan whispered against her lips. He began to probe her mouth with his searching tongue. Teresa’s body pulsed with desire as Ryan deepened the kiss. His hands hurriedly roamed over her body and came to rest on her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent tremors through her. She moaned again as her pussy grew wetter. Suddenly, Ryan’s hands were gone from her ass. Not even bothering to take off his own clothes, Ryan quickly unzipped his fly and took his cock from his pants. He cleared the surface of his desk with the sweep of one hand, papers, calendars, pens, crashing to the floor. He swiftly flipped Teresa over so that she was leaning over his desk, her ass on display before him. In a frenzy of passion, he pulled her panties down to her ankles. Nudging her legs wide apart with his thighs, he grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her against him.

Teresa was not even aware that she had closed her eyes until she felt the head of Ryan’s cock at the mouth of her pussy. Suddenly her eyes flew open. In one fluid motion, Ryan parted the folds of her pussy and surged forward, seating himself so deeply inside her that his cock hit the mouth of her womb. Simultaneous moans erupted from their lips. They fit together perfectly, as if they had been made with one another in mind. With his hands tightly fastened around Teresa’s hips, Ryan began to quickly thrust in and out of her sopping wet pussy. “God, baby, your pussy feels so good,” Ryan groaned. He began to quicken his strokes. Teresa knew this was going to be a quick and hard fuck. Already she could feel Ryan’s balls tightening against her flesh, as his thrusts went deeper and harder. She closed her eyes again, thrilling to the little suctioning noises her pussy made as it clung to his pistoning cock. Soft moans of pleasure erupted from her lips as Ryan began to frantically pound deeper into her pussy, his balls slapping furiously against her ass with each thrust. Teresa gripped the edge of the desk. She threw her head back and moaned, “I’m coming, Ryan, I’m coming!” She ground her ass wildly into Ryan as the first tiny spasms of her approaching orgasm slowly wracked her body. The pressure began welling up in her clit. She felt as if she was soaring upward, under a great dark cloud—and, suddenly, the cloud burst into a blinding glory of light. Something shattered within her and the walls of her pussy seemed to cave in upon him. Her full orgasm hit her hard, like a freight train, and all she could do was ride it out until she lay spent atop his desk. Teresa’s orgasm triggered his. Ryan dug his nails deep into the flesh at her hips and she felt his cock swell with the urgent need to spill his hot cum. With three deep, hard thrusts, he buried his pulsating rod inside her, just as it erupted and sprayed his scalding semen deep into her waiting pussy. “Yes, Teresa, yes!” he cried hoarsely into the crook of her neck. He weakly collapsed on top of an already exhausted Teresa. Ryan rested his elbows on either side of her to balance his weight. Moments went by before either moved. Teresa was the first to stir. Gently, but firmly, she nudged Ryan off of her and began to quickly dress herself. Keeping her eyes averted from Ryan’s gaze, Teresa concentrated on getting her clothes back on. Her hands shook slightly as she fumbled with her clothing. She could feel the weight of his stare on her back, and instinctively she knew he wanted to say something. But before he could even try to form a sentence, she quietly slipped out of his office without a word, or a look back. **** The rest of the day went smoothly. Though her nerves continued to plague her, Teresa managed to nail her lines on the first take. Despite their rocky start, the rest of the cast followed her example. Shooting for that day ended one hour ahead of schedule. Teresa was relieved. She couldn’t wait to get away from Ryan. She needed to sort things out and his constant presence was only adding to her confusion. She didn’t waste time hanging around once the shoot was done. Before anybody knew it, she’d hopped into her brand new champagne beige Lexus and was headed down Sunset Boulevard, to the home she currently shared with Ryan.

She gave a sigh of relief when she pulled into the drive, to see that he wasn't home yet. He had left the set before the actors did, but she figured that, like most directors, he would be up all night preparing for tomorrow’s shoot. Still, after their awkward day, she had half expected him to show up at the house early. She didn't want to admit it, but she was actually a little disappointed he wasn't there. She was so preoccupied with her conflicting thoughts that it took her a second to realize there was a Range Rover already parked in the driveway. She wondered whose it was. Ryan hadn’t mentioned inviting guests. “Well, you didn’t exactly give him a chance,” she muttered to herself, thinking back to how cold she’d been towards him the rest of the day. She got out of the Lexus and checked the garage, just in case Ryan might have pulled his Mercedes in there, but the garage was empty. She headed into the house, trying to pretend she wasn't irritated by his absence. “You could have at least called to let me know that you were expecting company,” she grumbled to herself. Probably, she thought, he hadn't felt it was necessary, since this was, after all, his house. That thought only fueled her growing pique. The man was so damned arrogant. No wonder she hated him so. She slammed the front door harder than she intended, her sandal heels clicking noisily on the marble floor as she crossed the foyer. “Hello?” she called aloud. “Anyone here?” She stepped down into the living room, for once not even noticing the magnificent view of the lights of Los Angeles, spread like jewels upon a dark carpet. She had eyes for nothing but the man standing in front of the window, turning as she came in. She gasped with surprise at the sight of him. Except that he was two inches shorter and his jet black hair was cut to the nape of his neck, the man staring back at her, smiling slightly, was the spitting image of Ryan. My God, she thought, bewildered, could the world possibly handle two of them? She seriously doubted it. **** He was overwhelmed by her extraordinary beauty. Her flawless skin was like honey, dipped in caramel. Adam Dumont gave her his most dazzling and charming smile. His brother had always had excellent taste in women, but this one was beyond compare. He had a sudden, odd notion that he knew her from somewhere. He shook his head, quickly dismissing the thought. He was certain he could never have forgotten a woman so lovely, if he had met her even once. He crossed the room toward her, extending his hand. “Hi. Sorry if I startled you,” he said. “I’m Ryan’s older brother, Adam, and it's a genuine pleasure to meet you.” Her hand was small and soft but it gripped his firmly, telling him that this was a strong confident woman, and not just another one of those beautiful Hollywood bimbos. Teresa smiled back. “Hi. I’m Teresa Montague.” “The actress? The Broadway actress? I knew you looked familiar. This really is a pleasure. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she said with a soft laugh. “And it's a pleasure to meet you, too. Ryan isn’t home, though. He should still be on location, probably in his office, but I’m sure he has his cell with him.” Adam watched the myriad of emotions that crossed her face when she mentioned Ryan’s name. Interesting, he thought. It seemed that this angel of beauty had real feelings for his brother. “Thanks,” he said, “I’ll call him and let him know I’m in town. I can wait around for a few hours, at least until he wraps up at the set.” “Sounds good to me.” Teresa smiled warmly at him. “I was just about to prepare dinner. Why don’t you sit down and relax. Would you like a drink?” Adam nodded, returning her smile. Perfect, he thought. He was curious to learn more about Ms. Montague, about her relationship with his brother, and why she was staying in his house. “A martini would be nice,” he said. “I can get it myself, though.” He gestured toward the built-in bar. “Why don't you make two,” she said with another smile. **** Teresa laughed softly as Adam told her yet another crazy story of the many bizarre things he saw as the mayor of Alexandria, Virginia, a small suburban city outside Washington D.C. She liked him. He was charming, funny and easy to talk to. “How long will you be in town?” she finally asked, hoping he would visit again while he was here. He frowned. “Unfortunately I’ll be back on a plane as soon as the fundraising gala wraps up. I only came out here this evening so that I could check on Ryan.” Teresa sighed. “But you just got here. I was hoping you would stay longer.” She gave him a little pout. Adam’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “I bet,” he quipped. “What do you mean, I bet?” The tone of his voice hinted at a deeper meaning. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Oh, don’t go getting all paranoid on me,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s just that I’m a lawyer by training, so I’m kind of used to reading between the lines.” Teresa waited for him to elaborate. When he sat smiling at her for several moments without saying anything, she lifted her hands in frustration. “Oh, just spit it out already,” she snapped. “What did you mean by your comment?” Adam shrugged. “I just figured that besides my good looks and charm,” he paused and grinned, “I thought probably you want me to stay so that you don’t have to deal with my brother. You know, I'd be a sort of buffer.” Teresa’s eyes widened and she shook her head in denial. “I don't know what you mean,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Teresa. From the little you’ve said about your relationship with Ryan…” Again he paused, searching for the right words. “Well, let's just say, I can tell that it’s complicated.” Teresa couldn't help smiling at Adam’s choice of words. “Complicated” was putting it lightly. “A hot mess” was more like it.

She started to deny what he'd said, but she found she just couldn’t. It was obvious that Adam was no fool. Treating him as if he were would only be an insult. Adam folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Your silence only further proves that I’m right,” he said smugly. She grinned at him. “No one said you weren’t, but that’s all you're going to get out of me.” Adam shrugged again. “Fair enough.” Teresa laughed then. “I don’t think so.” Adam raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t get to pry into my life and then call it a day,” she said. “And, let's face it, that's exactly what you've been doing for the last two hours.” Adam gave her a wounded look, which only made her laugh out loud. “So, now it's your turn,” she said. “Seriously, tell me something about you, besides the fact that you’re fundraising so that you can run for Congress in the next election.” Adam scoffed. “But I told you about that and that I love sports, working out and traveling.” Teresa rolled her eyes. “Yeah and what man doesn’t? Next you’re going to tell me that you like pizza and beer—but that doesn’t count,” she added when he shot her a look as if to say that was plenty of information. “That’s all superficial.” She paused, trying to think of something to ask him that was as personal as the questions he’d been throwing at her for the past few hours. Her eyes lit up after a moment and she snapped her fingers. “I know. Tell me about your wife.” She pointed to the wedding band on his left hand. “Who is this lucky woman who captured the heart of the amazing Adam Dumont?” Okay, maybe not, Teresa thought as she watched Adam grow still and his eyes darken. “I…I’m sorry. I mean, if that’s a sore subject…” She let her voice trail off, frightened and puzzled by his reaction to her question, and more curious than ever—but she wouldn't pry any deeper into what was obviously a taboo subject. After a long moment of silence, Adam brought himself back from whatever far away place he’d drifted off to. “It’s not your fault,” he said with an apologetic smile. “You couldn't know.” He was silent again for another long moment. Teresa thought he probably wouldn't say any more. She was surprised when he continued. “My wife and I are separated,” he finally said, his eyes pained. Teresa gave him a look of compassion and gently patted his hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He smiled bitterly. “Don’t be. I’m not sorry we are separated, just that we can’t put our problems aside for the present.” “I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes questioning. Adam sighed as if he’d resigned himself to some sort of decision. “I need Lisa, my wife, in order to win the election.” Teresa shook her head, still not sure she understood. “Based on the demographics and polling results,” he explained, “I have no chance of winning as a divorced man or as an estranged husband.” Teresa’s eyes narrowed. He said that as if he had absolutely no choice but to stay married to this Lisa, but she knew better. Maybe she wasn't an attorney, but she was no

idiot either. He couldn’t be forced to do anything he didn’t want to do. She felt sure if Adam truly wanted to divorce his wife, he would—but he hadn’t. It was clear to Teresa he still had feelings for his wife, but whatever had happened between them had left him very angry, and very bitter. “So you go to counseling and you reconcile,” Teresa said simply. “It’s not as easy as that. Our marriage is over, Teresa. There is nothing that counseling can do to fix it.” Adam’s voice was void of emotion, but his eyes gave him away. Teresa chuckled, shaking her head. “You men,” she said. “Half the time you can't see your own noses. I seriously doubt that's the case.” Adam’s eyes narrowed. She could see her remark had angered him. “You don’t even know us or what happened between us. You're in no position…” “Oh, whatever, Adam.” Teresa waved a dismissive hand. It was obvious he was getting mad at her, but his anger was misplaced. Besides, he clearly didn’t know who he was messing with. Adam scared her no more than Ryan. Anyway, if she hadn’t been afraid of that old dragon, Fatima Dumont, when she was a kid, he certainly wasn't going to intimidate her now that she was all grown up. “It's perfectly obvious to me that you still love your wife, and,” Teresa continued when he started to interrupt her, “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t still be wearing your ring.” Adam frowned. “It’s for show.” Teresa laughed again. “Show for whom? Me? Ryan?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. This is your brother’s home. I assume he knows the truth. He’s your brother after all. You didn’t need to wear your ring here, but you did. And I can tell you why, too: Because you don’t want your marriage to be over.” She shrugged. “If you want my honest opinion, I actually think you’re relieved that you have to stay married in order to run for Congress. That way you don’t have to admit to yourself you never would have divorced her. Now you have an excuse to get back together. And during that time, I bet you’re hoping you two can work things out.” Adam chuckled. “You have a very vivid imagination, Teresa,” he said in an offhand tone of voice. He tried to seem indifferent but Teresa could see right through him. She stared him down until he looked away with a guilty expression. Teresa’s mind warned her not to push this subject, but she ignored it. She felt very strongly he needed to hear this. She could tell by the way he squirmed that no one had ever called him out before. “Maybe you're right, maybe I do have a vivid imagination,” she said. “So indulge me on this as well. I don’t know this Lisa, but I'd be willing to bet money she still loves you too.” Adam's gaze was cynical and he lifted one eyebrow, but he remained silent. “And do you know how I know?” she taunted him. “No. But I can see that you’re dying to tell me,” he muttered dryly. “I know because, interestingly enough, I know exactly the type of man that you are.” Adam frowned. “Explain.” “You are a very aggressive, dominant man, so the woman you married has to be equally assertive and dominant. If you’re anything like your brother, and I am sure you are…” She smiled before she continued, “then you enjoy the challenge of a strong woman. You would never settle for someone you could walk all over.”

“You lost me.” She tilted her head to the side and fixed her gaze upon him. “I know she loves you because no woman strong enough to handle you would stay married to any man that she hated. She would have divorced you long ago if she hated you. And she certainly wouldn’t stay married to you just so that you could win some election. I mean, why would she care? If she hated you, she would want to see you fail. Remaining in a miserable marriage so that you could pursue your dream would just be stupid. And I know your strong, confident, assertive Lisa is not stupid, nor is she anybody’s fool.” Adam stared at her, speechless. “Yep,” she said, nodding her head emphatically. “The woman loves you. And whatever happened between the two of you certainly wasn’t enough to make her hate you. If it had, she would have left, for good. Matter of fact, I bet she still wears her ring too, because, like you, somewhere deep down she hopes that you two can work things out.” Teresa folded her arms across her chest and gave him a triumphant smile, knowing that she had him. After a long moment, Adam broke into a big grin. “You're the one who should have gone to law school. You would have been a great lawyer. But that’s all you get,” he said throwing her words back at her. “Fair enough,” she said. She didn't need to pry any further. Some things were meant to be personal, after all. Anyway, he knew she was right, and that was all that mattered. After a moment, they both erupted into fits of laughter, enjoying their newfound camaraderie. * “What the hell is going on here?!” Ryan thundered from the doorway behind them. Two pairs of startled eyes swung in his direction. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ryan knew he was about to make an ass of himself, but he ignored the little voice in his head that was trying to tell him that. When he arrived home to see Teresa and his brother doing what could only be described as flirting, the jealousy that gripped him had been overwhelming. She had barely spoken two words to him all damn day but she could sit here in his house and laugh with his brother like they were a couple of teenagers on a date. Ryan was furious. She should have been sitting at home thinking about him the way he’d been thinking about her since shooting had finished hours ago. Hell, he had a shit load of work to do but he’d come home early just to see her, to be with her and to beg her damn forgiveness He should have known she didn’t give a damn, not about him and certainly not about their fight. All day he’d been racked with guilt, furious with himself for taking his anger out on her, and disgusted with himself for hurting her feelings. Well, if she or her feelings were hurt, then he was Little Red Riding Hood. Hurt, my ass, he thought angrily. And what was his brother doing here anyway? Ryan had gotten the message earlier that Adam was in town, so when he saw the rental car parked in his driveway he had just figured it was his brother’s. And, normally, he would be happy to see Adam, but not now. Adam was in the goddamn way! He wanted to come home to Teresa and be alone with her, to patch things up with her. Hell, to fuck her all night long until she could think of no other man but him! He certainly didn’t feel like entertaining his brother. At the moment, he felt more like punching his teeth out. And another thing, why were they sitting so damned close together?! Ryan’s hand clenched into a fist. He felt a sharp stab of pain and looked down,

remembering that he’d stopped on the way home to buy Teresa a bouquet of red roses. His hand had clenched so tightly that a thorn had pierced his skin, drawing blood. The sight of the blood only made him angrier still. He was an idiot. He felt like throwing the roses in the trashcan. “Ryan, honey, we were just talking.” Teresa warily met his gaze. “Sure, honey,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “That’s why you are practically sitting in his lap. You never talk to me that way.” Teresa’s eyes widened. She stood up, moving a few inches away from Adam. “That’s just absurd. I was nowhere near his lap. I told you, we were just talking. Seriously Ryan we were just talking.” She took a step in his direction, her eyes begging him to calm down and see reason. But then something in her eyes changed and she cocked her head to the side to peer at him intently. “You’re jealous,” she said aloud. “Do I have some reason to be?” “You tell me. You’re the one going all Neanderthal on me.” Ryan chuckled. “You think I’m overreacting? You wouldn’t think so if you saw what I saw when I got home.” “Oh, really? And what did you see Ryan?” Teresa folded her arms under her breasts. “It looked to me like you two were having a moment. An intimate moment.” She nodded her head firmly. “And we were Ryan, that's right. We were having an intimate moment between friends.” Ryan’s anger increased. “So you two are friends now?” he said. “You just met, for crap's sake. Come on, admit the truth, Teresa, you were flirting with my brother.” Teresa’s eyes flashed. “Don't be ridiculous!” “The only question is were you doing it because you knew it would just piss me off or are you really attracted to him?” Ryan gave her a grin but there was nothing funny about the way he felt. “People say we look just alike. I guess I can’t blame you. I mean, one Dumont dick is probably just as good as the other…” Whack! Teresa's slap was hard enough to make his head spin. Ryan seethed with fury. He was going to have to restrain this hellcat! This was the second time she’d slapped him. No one had ever slapped Ryan Dumont before, let alone two times. Up to this point, Adam had remained quiet, but, ever the politician, he wasn’t about to let them fight it out and make it worse. “Ryan, you’re out of line and you know it,” he said calmly. “You owe Teresa an apology.” “Stay out of this, Adam!” Ryan ordered. He wasn’t in the mood for the big brother routine at the moment. Besides, just because he’d transferred his anger from Adam to Teresa didn’t mean he still didn’t want to knock his brother out cold. Whatever was going on here, he felt sure Adam was just as much to blame as she was. “Thank you, Adam, for your help,” Teresa said, “but Ryan doesn't need any help to make a fool of himself. He is an arrogant asshole who chooses to believe whatever is convenient for him.” She stepped closer to Ryan, planting herself squarely in front of him. “You see, Adam, Ryan likes to blame everyone else for the mistakes he makes. That way he doesn’t have to live with the fact that he is the one to blame for every miserable

thing in his life. Ryan, if I wanted another man, who could blame me? It’s not like you are some kind of prince.” She looked over her shoulder to flash Adam a stunning smile. “Goodnight, Adam, it was truly a pleasure meeting you,” she said in her most seductive voice. Ryan knew perfectly well she only did it to piss him off. And it was working. “And goodnight to you, too, Ryan,” she told him, smiling at him with artificial sweetness. She said, in a voice low enough that only he could hear it, “And I hope you enjoy sleeping alone, because, if you even think about setting one foot into our bed tonight, you will wish you’d stepped into hell instead.” With that, she turned on her heel and stormed up to their bedroom, slamming the door with such force that two framed pictures on the mantle tumbled to the carpeted floor with a soft thump. Ryan looked at his brother. “I don’t want to hear it, Adam,” He was in no mood to be lectured. Adam grinned. “Oh I wasn’t even going to go there. I think Teresa said it all, quite nicely.” “Jesus, I can’t believe you’re taking her side. I’m your brother.” “Exactly! So the whole time you were insulting Teresa, you knew I would never, ever mess with a woman who was yours. And never mind the fact that I am married and, although Lisa and I are separated, you know perfectly well that I have never broken my wedding vows. You knew all this, Ryan, and yet you still acted like a jackass. You deserved everything she dished out and more.” “I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Ryan murmured. “What are you doing here anyway? You could have told me you were coming before you actually arrived.” Adam shrugged. “Well, I decided at the last moment to make an appearance at the fund-raising auction I told you about last week. I will only be here until tomorrow night. Besides,” he added in a joking tone of voice, “I don’t think I could last any longer with the two of you trying to kill each other. I am too fragile to be a part of World War Three.” If Ryan hadn’t been so angry he would have laughed at his brother’s remark, but all he could manage instead was a weak smile. Adam sighed and studied his brother. “You love her, don’t you?” he said. Ryan started to deny it, but Adam held up his hand. “Man, I can tell, regardless of what you might say. Besides, she loves you too.” Ryan snorted derisively. “Trust me, man, she does,” Adam insisted. “No woman as ballsy as Teresa would put up with your attitude if she didn’t. “But what I don’t understand,” he said aloud, his expression perplexed, “is why you two act like you hate each other, when it so clear to me that you care a great deal for each other.” Ryan knew Adam would quickly figure things out. He also knew Adam was relentless with his questions until he obtained the answer that satisfied him. That same determined pursuit for the truth is what had made him such a successful attorney. At the moment, however, Ryan wanted to curse that determination. He sighed wearily and gave Adam the only answer he would accept: the truth. He told him everything, from the very beginning—from the night of the prom, and all that had happened since, up to and including his “deal” with Teresa. When he was finished, he stood quietly, waiting for Adam's judgment. He expected

it would be harsh, but it had felt good anyway, to get it all off his chest—especially with someone who knew him as well as his brother did. “Bro, you’re a jackass,” was the first thing out of Adam’s mouth once Ryan finished his story. “You don’t deserve Teresa, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you’ve treated her. I don’t doubt she loves you. From what I’ve learned about her today she would have sued your ass for sexual harassment if she didn’t, and speaking as a lawyer, I can tell you plain and simple, she'd have won, too. But believe me, and this is the important thing here: no man can force that woman to do anything that she doesn’t want to do.” He said that with a big grin. “And while I don’t doubt that she loves you,” Adam went on without waiting for Ryan to reply, “I’m also certain that she resents the position you’ve put her in. A woman like that despises being manipulated because it makes her feel powerless. Imagine how you would feel if the tables were turned. You might love her but I doubt you would readily trust her and you certainly wouldn’t be quick to declare your undying love for her.” Adam paused then, looking disgusted. “You’re an idiot! Why didn’t you just ask her out on a date like a normal man?” Ryan frowned at the insult. “At the time, I thought this was the only way. Given our history, I figured she wouldn’t be receptive to the normal dating approach.” He grimaced. “Maybe I was wrong, but I can’t go back now. She already thinks I am a spineless pig.” Adam shook his head. “Do you want to know what I think?” He folded his arms across his chest and let out a long sigh. “Not really, but I imagine you're going to tell me anyway.” “I think you’ve been in Hollywood too long. Being around these airheads and dummies has made you stupid.” Ryan glared at his brother “Thanks,” he muttered, and added, “I think.” A silence like a thick cloud filled the room. Ryan felt the weight of Adam’s disapproval. More importantly, he felt the weight of his own disappointment and it was smothering him. He was weary of this conversation. All he wanted to do now was go to bed. “Look man, I have an early day tomorrow,” he said. “You can crash in the guest house if you want to.” Adam smiled. “Yeah, keep me as far away from World War Three as possible. I wouldn’t want to have to sue you for any injuries I sustained from breaking up a brawl between you and your woman.” “Ha, ha very funny.” Ryan gave him a weak smile. “Goodnight, man.” “Good night, little brother. Oh, and Ryan…” Ryan had begun slowly to climb the stairs to bed, but he paused to look back at his brother. “An apology doesn’t undo everything that's gone before and it doesn't erase the pain, but it goes a long way towards soothing hurt feelings.” With that, Adam disappeared down the hallway, headed for the guesthouse. Ryan stared at Adam’s retreating back. After a moment, he smiled and continued up the stairs. Adam would never tire of his role as “big brother.” But more importantly, Ryan knew big brother was right. Admittedly, he was used to dealing with very accommodating women. In a sense, that was the curse of good looks

and wealth, combined now with the power he had as a Hollywood mogul. There were many women eager to accommodate someone in his position. Teresa wasn’t one of them. Quite the opposite. She would not hesitate to tell him when he was out of line. He needed to apologize to Teresa. He’d been wrong. He had never really set out to exact revenge on Teresa. The idea of an ultimatum had just been a thought that had popped into his head out of the blue during that lunch of theirs at The Zanzibar. He’d actually asked her to lunch to offer her the lead role and then he had planned to ask her out on a normal date. Somehow, though, in the course of their conversation, he had found himself doing the exact opposite of what he’d initially intended. He had backed her into a corner with his proposition, and later with his blacklisting tactics. The truth was he had been ashamed of his actions, but once he set the events in motion he found it impossible to reverse all of them. By the time he convinced himself to try, it had been too late; the damage had already been done. Teresa had accepted his ultimatum, but he could see now that she had lost what little respect she had for him in the process. That price had been too great. Now, for perhaps the thousandth time since he’d hatched his insane scheme, he admitted that getting revenge on Teresa held no satisfaction for him. He cared for her too much. Dragging himself up the stairs, Ryan drew in a shaky breath. He wanted a future with Teresa, but he knew that in order for them to have one, he would have to convince her to trust him again and before he could do that, he would have to learn to let go of the past. A past that kept getting in their way… **** It was during Christmas break of his freshman year when Ryan discovered what a lying, deceitful bitch Teresa really was. She had used him, just as his mother had promised. He still couldn’t remember how he had come upon the truth. Probably his mother deliberately let him find her bank statement, but it didn't matter. The point was she had been right all along. The proof was right there in Fatima Dumont's bank statement, the one from just after graduation. Proof in the form of a check made out to “Ms. T. Montague” for a staggering $100,000 dollars! When he confronted his mother with the statement, she’d simply shrugged her shoulders. “It seems that some people see love as an expendable commodity,” she had said in an I-told-you-so tone of voice. Ryan hadn’t needed further clarification. He was no fool. He knew what had happened. His mother had offered Teresa the money to stay away from him—that was the kind of thing his mother would do. But the fact that Teresa had accepted the blood money was what disappointed him the most. Obviously, she hadn't loved him as much as she claimed, certainly not as much as he loved her, not if she could be bought off. At the time, having discovered her betrayal, he had made plans to go to New York to set things straight with her. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about Teresa. But once he’d discovered the evidence of her betrayal, he'd not carried through with those plans. The knowledge of what she had done had left Ryan angry and bitter. Over time he had finally accepted the painful fact that Teresa had actually accepted money to stay out

of his life for good. The woman he loved was nothing more than a lying fraud! **** Teresa was asleep when she heard her name. Her eyelids fluttered open and she stretched lazily, coming slowly out of the fog of sleep, to find Ryan in bed with her. He was tenderly kissing her all over her naked body, whispering to her as he did so. “Teresa, I'm so sorry,” he murmured. “I can't tell you how much I treasure you, how much I desire you, and need you.” Teresa was tempted to tell Ryan to leave her bed, but she found that she couldn’t. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice as he lovingly worshipped her body. How could she resist his words of endearment? She could kick him out of bed, of course, just to teach him a lesson, but then she would be denying herself, too. Already her pussy was wet and aching for him. She looked up into his face and met his gaze. She gasped softly, startled by the tenderness and adoration that was clearly visible in his dark eyes. For a long moment they only gazed at one another. Then Ryan’s head slowly descended, his lips gently kissing hers. Everything was gentle about him tonight: his kisses, his caresses, his words. He suckled gently on each of her breast in turn, tenderly rolling each nipple around in his mouth, while he kneaded the full softness of the other in his large hand. Ryan didn’t just stop at her breasts, though. He suckled, kissed and licked every inch of her body, clear down to her toes. From there, he began to kiss the inside of her ankle, slowly moving upward to her leg. She gasped when he reached her thighs, moaning when he settled his mouth against her core, brimming now with her juices. Tenderly he licked her clit, until she was breathless and writhing uncontrollably. He stayed down there for what seemed to her like hours, slowly sucking, kissing and licking her pussy. By the time her third orgasm subsided, Teresa was begging Ryan to enter her pussy and fill her up with his big cock. She reached down to pull Ryan atop her, and whispered urgently, “Fuck me, Ryan, fuck me now.” * She wrapped her shapely legs around his waist, locking him to her. Ryan groaned loudly. Grabbing Teresa’s hips, he gently plunged his thick cock into Teresa’s honey coated pussy. Unlike their previous experiences, this time was sweet, gentle and tender. They had fucked before, but tonight they rejoiced in making love, and they did it with something approaching reverence for one another and the act they were sharing. Ryan’s strokes were deep and long. His pace was hard and rhythmical, but unhurried. He wanted to savor the feeling of Teresa’s pussy slowly milking his cock. He sank in and out of her for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, another wave of pleasure began to wash over her. She dug her nails into Ryan’s back, her hips beginning to buck furiously under him. Her frenzied movements beneath him triggered his own release. Teresa stiffened as a bolt of white-hot lighting surged through her body. She was coming. Ryan could feel her pussy spasming around his cock, milking it, begging it to give up his seed. He held more

tightly to the soft flesh at her hips, and gave one last hard, deep thrust into her welcoming pussy. Her body trembled as Ryan’s cum filled her up, her juices and hot semen mixing together and spilling out of her, around the base of his cock, coating his balls with the creamy evidence of their passion. They both cried out as they let go, calling one another's names. Still gasping for breath, Ryan rolled over and held Teresa to his side. He never wanted to let her go and Teresa didn’t want to be released. They both floated off to sleep, each dreaming about how sweet and wonderful their lovemaking had been.

Chapter Five Ryan was eager to wrap up shooting. The last few months had been exhausting, although he would readily admit they had also been the most exhilarating in his entire life. He’d spent this interval living out his dreams. He was directing his own film and he had the woman he loved in his life. Ryan counted himself lucky for the life he had. The only thing that marred his happiness was the nagging worry that he might lose Teresa again. A sense of unease settled over him as he grew increasingly aware that his time with Teresa was quickly coming to an end. She had agreed to live with him until the film was finished. With shooting scheduled to end in two days, the time had come when he either had to reveal his feelings for Teresa or lose her forever. He knew what he had to do and he was prepared to put it all on the line, but he couldn’t shake his doubts about her feelings. Their sex was amazing. It seemed impossibly to get better each time. What's more, they now seemed to enjoy spending time together even when they weren't in bed. If only he could be certain that Teresa was actually in love with him, as she seemed to be. But, he couldn't forget she was an actress. She had wanted the lead in his movie, and she had gotten it by agreeing to the deal he had offered her. How much of what they seemed to share now was just her way of fulfilling their bargain, and how much of it was real? He just couldn't say with any certainty. That doubt seemed to eat him alive, but he couldn't altogether shake it either. It left him tied up in knots half the time. He knew that, if she left him when the movie was finished, it would be no more than he deserved, given how they had started out, but he could take no pleasure in that truth. There had been many times as they lay together in bed the past few weeks when he wanted to raise the subject, but he had always hesitated. Teresa’s insatiable sexual appetite did not necessarily translate into love. There was no question Teresa enjoyed the sex as much as he did, but beyond that, she had never once expressed how she felt about him on an emotional level. Of course, he had not shared his feelings with her, either. He kept hoping she'd go first. **** Teresa’s heels clicked noisily against the floor as she hurried across the set. She looked calm and composed, but inside she was roiling with emotion. I cannot be pregnant, she told herself over and over, I cannot be pregnant! I CANNOT BE PREGNANT! She sighed. “But I am,” she murmured, running a nervous hand through her hair. The truth could no longer be denied. During lunch break, she’d received the news from her physician. She was ecstatic and terrified at the same time. A part of her was eager to share the news with Ryan, but she hesitated. Ryan had never once discussed a future with her, let alone starting a family. His actions spoke of deep feelings but that was all Teresa had to

go on. Never once had he so much as mentioned the word, “love,” and she really had no clue how he would react to the news of a baby. Nervously, she nibbled on her lower lip and toyed with the idea of not telling him unless he found out. Once the movie was done, she wouldn’t have to see him unless she truly wanted to. Already their future schedules were so booked he might never even know if she didn't tell him. Once shooting on Nemesis ended, she was scheduled to start working on a short independent film in Georgia, a part that had been offered to her at the last minute when another actress backed out. The truth of the matter was when the news had gotten out she was the leading lady in Richard Drake's directorial debut, the movie industry had practically fallen at her feet. Richard Drake—aka Ryan Dumont—was like a god in Tinseltown, and anything he touched was as good as gold—including Teresa Montague. Since then, she had been offered dozens of projects and was booked up for the next two years. So, there was every reason to suppose they could live their lives in the future without ever even running into one another, if they so chose. Fortunately, once Teresa finished that independent film in Georgia, she would have a three month break before her next project went into preproduction. Which would give her just enough time to have her baby—but if it hadn't, she would simply have made time. Teresa couldn’t care less whether or not her pregnancy fit into her career schedule. She was having this child and she had a feeling that things would somehow work out, for her and the baby, as well as her career. As for her and Ryan, she wasn’t quite so optimistic on that score. Thinking of him, she let out a shaky breath. She knew she had to tell him. She just couldn’t keep something like this from him. She decided there was no time like the present. They had only two days left together and the longer she waited the harder she knew it would be. Her apprehension grew steadily as she slowly approached his office. She knew he was there working on last minute script changes. The door was slightly ajar and she could hear he was having a conversation with someone. Immediately she recognized Adam’s voice. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she hurried to his office door. She had really liked Ryan's brother and it would be wonderful to see him again. But when she got there, she realized Ryan was on speakerphone. Disappointed, she turned to leave. She could talk to him later when he was done with his conversation. She stopped, however, when she heard Ryan say her name. **** Ryan was tired of his brother's meddling in his life, always trying to play Cupid. “Ryan, man, you love Teresa,” Adam was telling him now. “Don’t be a dumb ass and let her get away.” “Bro, don’t you have enough problems with your own love life without meddling in mine?” Ryan asked. “Seriously, this obsession with my love life has to be unhealthy.” “Keep cracking jokes. Sometimes I wonder if we are even brothers because this kind of pigheadedness is not in our family genes! Ryan, you are stupid and blind if you can’t see that Teresa is in love with you and I swear that I will not get your dumb ass out of

this shit when you fuck up what you have with her.” “That’s just it. Teresa and I don’t have anything. It's just sex. Once the film is done, we will most likely both just go our own separate ways.” Exasperated, Ryan rubbed at the stubble on his jaw with one hand, all the while aching to press the button to end their conversation. He was growing weary of these weekly sermons from Adam. Especially since they all had the same theme—Teresa. Sure, it was true, he desperately wished things could be different between him and Teresa, but he felt sure she wasn’t interested in a future relationship with him. Just the night before at dinner, she’d gushed about all the film offers she was getting. That was when the truth began to dawn on him. She was excited because she was going to be a big Hollywood celebrity. He knew how the game played out in Hollywood. It would only be a matter of time before male models, professional athletes, and leading men came calling. Why would she want to date just one man when she was about to embark upon this new life, a life that would be filled with some of the most eligible bachelors in the world? When he had called a lunch break on the set an hour ago, he had sorted it all out in his mind. The nagging doubts. The worries. Hollywood was all about the bottom line, and the bottom line here was he couldn’t lose something he never had. He was glad now he hadn’t revealed his feelings to her and he knew he never would. As much as he didn’t want to live in the past, he knew he would be a fool to ignore it. She played you for a fool once, he reminded himself bitterly. Why should this time be any different? Ryan knew the answer to that, too. It wouldn’t be any different. She hadn’t loved him back then and she didn’t love him now. His stomach clenched into knots when he swallowed this bitter pill, but as much as it pained him, he had to face reality. It was easier that way. It was the only way to save his sanity. “Alright, man, if that is how you wanna play it, fine,” Adam said in a disgusted voice. “Just don’t say I didn’t try to tell you.” The line went dead as he disconnected. Ryan exhaled a ragged breath. He told himself he was glad that Adam hung up. So why did he want to snatch up the phone, dial his brother and beg Adam to do exactly what he said he wouldn’t—help him solve the mess he had made with Teresa? * Teresa’s hand unconsciously fell to where her baby rested. Her stomach began to churn. She was going to be sick. Morning sickness had yet to set in, but she knew she had to get away from Ryan’s door before the contents of her lunch ended up on the floor outside of his office. How could she have been so stupid? To think she was going to tell Ryan they were having a baby! She was just a film fuck. The industry was full of those, she thought bitterly, hating the term but knowing it was the truth about their relationship. Those hookups always ended once the movie wrapped. Fans made much of them, but insiders knew they really meant next to nothing. Some famous actor had once said that a torrid makeout scene in front of the camera always led to sex back in the dressing room, but that it wasn't meant to be taken seriously. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she raced towards her trailer, grateful that everyone was still gone for lunch. For the next hour she sobbed uncontrollably until she was called to the set.

**** Ryan had desperately wanted to be wrong. He’d secretly hoped that Teresa could actually love him. Yes, she had kept her end of the bargain—and now that shooting was over, he had to keep his. Back at the house, he watched her silently pack her things, and knew he’d been right. She had used him to promote her career, while he had used her body to get his revenge. He couldn’t blame her. He was the one who had first devised the entire charade. What did he expect; for Teresa to run to him, thanking him for making her feel like a cheap Hollywood whore? No, he didn’t deserve her. He could see that now. He didn’t deserve her love or a future with her. He deserved exactly what he was getting—absolutely nothing. * Teresa could feel his eyes following her every movement as she hurriedly packed her belongings. She was determined she would not break down and sob in front of him. She regretted leaving the home they had shared together for the last several months. She regretted leaving Ryan. Most of all she regretted keeping the secret of her pregnancy from him. She wanted so badly to tell him, but she couldn’t. He didn’t want her. Yes, she could force him to marry her, and accept a child he didn't want—but that would ruin his life, wouldn't it, and hers, too? Maybe the right thing would be to tell him, but she hadn't and she doubted that she ever would. She didn’t owe Ryan a damn thing. She had paid her debt in full, she had lived up to the letter of their agreement. “Well,” she said, when she was packed and ready to go. She paused at the door. Her suitcases were already in the Lexus, parked in the drive. She paused, waiting for Ryan to say something. Waiting, even as she knew how foolish it was, for him to beg her to stay. “Goodbye,” he said instead. “Good luck with your career.” With that, he turned his back on her and walked away. Teresa stared after him for several moments before she stepped through the front doorway for the very last time and walked to her car, glad at least that her pride and her resolve were still intact. She was not even aware as she drove off that she had left the door to the house standing open. **** “Cut!” “Thank God,” Teresa muttered under her breath as she quickly hurried off the set. Once inside her dressing room trailer, she tugged at the tight constricting collar she was wearing and drew in a deep breath. The film she was making was a costume piece, set in the late 1800s. She played the supporting lead, the conservative wife of a faithless minister. The worst thing about the part was the awful wardrobe, but she knew as well that she should be grateful for the horrible costumes. She was close to five months pregnant by this time, and the bulky dresses easily hid her burgeoning waist. “Even though it strangles you at the neck!” she murmured to herself, stroking her throat where the collar had threatened to choke her. She sat down on the trailer's couch and leaned her sore back against the plush

cushions, kicking off her shoes, and reached for the latest issue of the Daily Dirt, one of Hollywood's tackier tabloids She missed Ryan. A lot more than she wanted to admit. She lifted her hand to stroke the small bump that was now her belly and smiled. Thinking about the tiny child growing inside of her always helped banish the melancholy mood that invariably descended upon her whenever thoughts of Ryan crept into her head—which was, she had to admit, practically all the time. Suddenly she took a sharp breath and her eyes narrowed to angry slits. She brought the magazine closer to her face and stared. There was a single picture of her on the page, a promo for this movie, but the page was dominated by a large photo of Ryan. It captured him with a stupid grin plastered across his handsome face while he gazed down at the beautiful starlet hanging on his arm, who looked up at him with religious adoration in her eyes. “Hot Hollywood Writer turned Director Scripts a New Leading Lady in his Life,” the caption under the photo said. She gave a snort of disgust and flung the magazine across the room. “Stupid trash,” she muttered angrily. The tabloids hadn’t stopped. Every week Ryan was with a different woman and every week the tabloids speculated how Teresa was coping with it. It was like the Jennifer Aniston and Brangelina saga all over again. She tried not to pay too much attention to it, but it was hard. Seeing Ryan move on with his life so easily really stung. Even if the tabloids were somewhat exaggerated, it was still pretty clear Teresa had never been anything more than a cameo in his life. He had used her and discarded her when he was done, never once looking back. **** “Goddamnit!” Ryan flung his pencil across the room and leaned back in his chair, frustrated. He stared at the film he’d been running under the guise of editing and frowned as he fixated on the image frozen on the screen. Teresa. She was nothing short of magical on film. She stood out among the rest of the actors and made the entire movie hers. She had that ethereal glow with which the greatest actors dominated the screen. Garbo had it. Dandridge had it. And Teresa Montague had it, maybe more than all the others. He let out a deep breath and got to his feet, stretching. He had been there all day and had only done maybe three hours of work. Seeing her face at every turn was difficult. God, he missed her. It had been hard enough to see her every time he went to work but now every time he picked up a magazine or turned on the television, there she was. The stories were ridiculous. How the paparazzi had found out about his affair with Teresa was a mystery to him, but now that they had, they clung to it like a pit-bull clings to his last meal. Each new issue or episode seemed to be worse than the last. Many times Ryan was tempted to reach for the phone and call her. He longed to assure her he was not dating any of those women those stupid media hags claimed he was. In the end he decided against it. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about him or who he was with now. When she’d left him two months ago, she’d made it pretty clear he meant nothing to her. If only she meant nothing to him. Far from it. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He

sighed and reached for another pencil.

Chapter Six Teresa sometimes thought she would burst from all the excitement in her life these days. It was like a fairy tale. She had just wrapped up her film as a preacher’s wife two months before, dozens of new offers were steadily pouring in, and she was scheduled to begin preproduction on her next film in three months. Not to mention, she was now four weeks away from having a baby girl. Teresa hadn’t seen Ryan since the day she left his home. Their film was scheduled for release in one month and she was both excited and nervous. She had successfully avoided him at all the typical Hollywood movie premiers and awards shows. And when her pregnancy began to show, she had simply stopped going to public events altogether. In the Alice-in-Wonderland that was the movie business, her absence from the social scene generated even more of a media buzz than her actual presence had. From tabloids to talk shows, the movie gossips were having a field day, mostly at her expense, as they speculated on her absence. “People with inside knowledge” had offered everything from plastic surgery gone wrong, to a drastic weight gain, to a secret marriage to some international playboy—the press was desperate to find out why Teresa Montague was missing in action. When the paparazzi began showing up at her new mansion in West Beverly Hills, Teresa had enough. From paparazzi hanging in the trees to stalking her while she took out the trash, it had grown way too bizarre and absurd for her tastes. A year ago she had used some of her savings from her stage career and purchased a small cottage beach house for her mother near Malibu, which almost no one knew about, and it had the extra advantage of being very secluded. Fed up with the paparazzi, she eventually decided she would stay with her mother until her baby was due. The break from the media stalkers would be more than welcome, but the truth was, she was definitely not looking forward to spending four weeks with her exasperating mother. It seemed like the lesser of evils, however. If she wasn’t careful, Ryan would discover that she was pregnant, and she just wasn’t prepared to deal with the explosive fall-out from that discovery. Staying with Mom was simpler. **** “Did you know Teresa is pregnant?” Adam asked as he prepared himself a sandwich in Ryan’s filthy kitchen. The entire home was a mess, actually. Since Teresa left, Ryan obviously hadn’t devoted much time to keeping the place in order. Adam suspected if his brother wasn’t so committed to his film, Ryan would have completely shut down by now. At the moment he was sitting on his couch watching a football game and wearing nothing but a dirty wife beater and two day old boxers. “What?!” Ryan nearly choked on his beer. “You heard me.” Adam searched in vain through Ryan’s cupboard for a clean plate. They were all in the sink, dirty. “How do you know this?” Ryan asked with disbelief.

“I hired a private investigator to…” “You what?” Adam hadn't thought Ryan’s eyes could get any bigger. He was wrong. They were about to pop out of his head, it seemed. “When Teresa fell off the map, I became curious. It seemed odd she would drop out of the public scene so abruptly. Actually, I thought about having a P.I. follow her after she left you, especially when you told me she moved out without saying a word. When I heard she just abruptly disappeared from the Hollywood scene, well, I decided to go ahead with my plans. It seemed odd she would leave you without trying to talk to you about her feelings, but when she began avoiding the media, I suspected she was definitely hiding something. It seems as if I was right. How is it possible you don't have any clean dishes?” He grumbled, before finally giving up on finding a plate and pulled a surprisingly clean dishtowel out of the drawer instead. “Do you know how far along she is?” Ryan asked, ignoring Adam's remark. Ryan was sweating now. Damn, he could never remember being so nervous in his life. Adam shrugged. “The P.I. said she looked like she was ready to pop. He thought she looked around seven or eight months, which would mean she got pregnant while you two were fooling around.” He grinned at his brother. “How are you the only one that knows this? I watch those stupid Hollywood trash shows and I haven’t heard a damn thing about her being pregnant!” Ryan was incredulous. He did watch those stupid shows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the “budding Montague starlet” as she was often called. Jesus, the people who wrote and produced those stupid trash shows were worthless if they couldn't even scope out a pregnancy. “I imagine Teresa has worked very hard to keep this from becoming public knowledge,” Adam said. “And, just between you and me, I suspect my P.I. might have obtained some of his information illegally—but, don't quote me. Anyway, won’t be long, will it, before the world knows? You might be able to hide a pregnancy if you stay out of sight for a while, but you can’t hide a newborn baby. “Damn, I make a good ham and cheese, if I do say so myself.” Adam bit into his sandwich with enthusiasm. Ryan covered his face with his hands. “How could Teresa do this to me? Why didn’t she tell me?” He didn’t realize he had uttered the words aloud until his brother replied. “She was probably scared and uncertain of your feelings.” “She should have told me. I had a right to know,” he seethed. “Do you? Maybe this isn’t your…” The rage he’d been trying to contain instantly bubbled to the surface. “Don’t even say it!” He clenched his fists, struggling to contain his anger at Adam for even thinking that Teresa had been unfaithful. “Teresa is not like that,” he said hotly. “This is my child. I know it.” Adam held up his hands as if to defend himself. “Look man, I don’t know Teresa well, but my impression of her tells me you’re right. I’m just trying to rationalize her behavior for you.” “Well, don't. I hate that she didn’t tell me, but she must have had a good reason, and I’m going to find out what it was. Get your P.I. on the phone and find out where she is.” “Ryan, I don’t think…” He narrowed his eyes in anger and growled. “Adam, what the hell did you tell me for

if you didn’t want me to do something about it? You started this, now you’re going to help me find out the truth. Get her damn address while I go make some phone calls and get dressed,” Ryan barked out. Adam pulled out his cell, shaking his head. “I knew I should have stayed out of this,” he muttered to himself. He shot a quick look toward Ryan, who glared at him from his perch on the stairs. He glanced back down at his cell and pushed the button to connect the speakerphone just as a male voice answered the call. “Hey man,” Adam said with a sigh, “I need another favor.” **** Ryan absently fumbled with the radio as he sped down the highway. As he got closer to Teresa’s home he had to take in deep breaths to stem the rising panic. He was a confident man in all areas of his life except when it came to Teresa. It had always been like that between them, although he was sure Teresa didn’t know how much power she truly had over him. Ryan had never been sure where he stood with her. Today was no different. His fears ate at him. She walked away from you even though she knew she was pregnant; maybe because she doesn’t want you, just the baby. What if she rejects you again? Ryan shook his head, trying to dispel the voices of doubt. A part of him wanted to jerk the steering wheel and turn around, but he resisted. He would not be a coward. This was too important for him to just chicken out. “Besides,” he said aloud, taking confidence from the sound of his own voice, “she may not want me, but there is no way in hell I am going to just walk away from my child, and she needs to know that.” Once and for all, he had to push aside all his negative thoughts and nagging doubts if he was ever going to convince Teresa they could build a life together as a family. They were movie people, and for movie people, the bottom line was everything. And the bottom line here was he loved her, and he had to somehow convince her of that. Another thought followed closely on the heels of that one. Maybe, just maybe, she cared for him too. He focused on that last thought as he stomped on the accelerator. **** Riiiiiiinnnggggg. The doorbell brought Teresa struggling out of the plush sofa in the living room. She felt like a baby whale as she waddled to the door, wondering who it could be this late. She was in no mood for the paparazzi. She had been nothing less than a magician these last few months, dodging the vultures. She rarely set foot out of the house, which had made it virtually impossible for them to get a picture of her, and on the rare times she had been outside, just in case one of the baboons was hanging from a tree somewhere waiting to snap her, she had been careful to wear flowing robes and outsized costumes that did an excellent job of hiding her pregnancy. “Who is it?” she called out before she even got to the door. If it was the damn paparazzi, she wouldn’t even bother with the effort of crossing the room. “Teresa, it’s me,” a familiar voice shouted from outside. “Open the door.”

Teresa’s spine stiffened. Oh, God, it was Ryan! She had never expected she would see him before the premiere of their film a month from now. Panic overwhelmed her. He couldn’t see her like this. He didn't know she was pregnant, and this was not the time for him to find out. As if he'd heard her thoughts, Ryan shouted through the door, “Teresa, I know you’re pregnant. Please just open the door. We need to talk.” “No, we don’t, Ryan. Just go away,” she shouted back. “Teresa, I will break this damn door down if I have to. You can either let me in or spend all day tomorrow waiting for a carpenter to repair the damage.” Goddamnit, she thought, the Neanderthal would do it too. * Ryan fumed in silence for a moment. Finally he heard the lock click and the door slowly opened. He stepped inside before she could change her mind, and closed the door behind him. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he saw her and he felt his lungs expand again. Teresa was wearing no make-up, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was dressed in a simple white tank dress that fell to the middle of her thighs. Ryan thought she had never looked more beautiful. The nearly transparent dress clung to her rounded figure and showed off her abundant cleavage and sexy legs. He could feel himself hardening as images of fucking Teresa crowded into his mind. When she spoke, though, the images disappeared like a puff of smoke in the wind blowing from the ocean. “What do you want, Ryan?” she asked in an icy voice. Without even waiting for a reply, she turned away from him and walked into the living room where she’d been watching the news. Turning off the television, she slowly maneuvered herself onto the couch. Ryan wanted to help Teresa sit down, but he knew she would probably punch his teeth out if he tried. He waited patiently for her to seat herself and return her attention to him. Finally settled into the sofa, she looked up at him and snapped, “Are you going to just stare at me or are you going to tell me why you’re here?” “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said quietly. “Tell you what?” “Teresa, stop playing games. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He paused. “Unless, if it's not…” His voice trailed off and he stared at the wall over her head. He couldn't say it. He didn't even want to think it. “How dare you!” Despite her new bulk, she was across the room faster than Flo Jo on speed. “If you want to convince yourself this isn’t your child, that’s fine. You don’t have to accept responsibility for your actions, because the baby and I certainly don’t need you in our lives. But, if you think I’m going to sit here and let you get away with insulting my character, then you need to think again. This is your child, Ryan, and once she is born you can have the tests done to prove it. Now get the hell out of my house and don’t come back until you’re invited.” She pointed angrily at the door. “You must be crazy if you think I am leaving before I’m good and ready,” he snapped back at her. This was not going smoothly at all, but he was on a mission and he wasn’t leaving her home without accomplishing it. “You have some nerve, Teresa. You had absolutely

no right to keep something like this from me. And for the record, I never doubted this child was mine, I just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me you were pregnant. Why did you go to so much trouble to hide it from me and the rest of the world?” “Because it’s nobody’s business.” Ryan was incredulous. “Are you crazy?” he demanded. “It’s my business, Teresa, because I’m the father.” “Damn hormones!” she muttered in dismay, when tears welled up in her eyes and she began to cry. She tried to spit out words as she sobbed. “What do you care? You don’t want her. You don’t want us.” Ryan’s anger vanished in an instant and his expression softened. What type of asshole yells at a pregnant woman, he silently reprimanded himself. He couldn’t stand to see her cry. Stepping quickly to her, he took her into his arms and held her gently. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, resting his chin on top of her head and stroking her back with his strong hands. “I shouldn’t have yelled. And, I do care. I more than just care for you and the baby. I love you, Teresa. I always have.” There! At last he'd said it. Shit, why had he always thought it was so hard to say? Nothing could have been easier, or truer—or made him happier. “N—No you don’t,” Teresa stammered into his shirt. “I—I heard you.” She couldn’t finish her statement because she had begun to sob again, fresh tears pouring from her eyes. Ryan took a step back and grasped her tear-stained face in his hands, staring into her eyes. “You heard what?” he asked. Hesitantly, Teresa told him of the day she found out that she was pregnant and what she heard him say to his brother on the phone. “You said…you said it was just sex between us.” She hiccupped softly. Ryan swore aloud. He remembered that conversation with Adam. But that wasn't how he had meant it. It was her love he had been so unsure of, not his own. He drew her back into his arms, He knew then this time he had to be completely honest with her. Too much was at stake to play any more games. He took a deep breath. “Teresa. I have loved you ever since we were in high school and I swear I have never stopped—No, let me finish,” he said when she started to interrupt him. “I know—I know you probably hate me and I don’t blame you. I never should have issued you that stupid ultimatum. It was a mistake and I know what I did was unforgivable. I knew that almost from the moment I said it, but then one thing just happened after the next and before I knew it, it was too late to take it back. I'm sorrier than you could ever imagine for offering you that insulting proposition. You mean so much to me and I hate that I was too much of an idiot to just ask you out like a normal man.” His eyes searched her face, trying to gauge her reaction. “The stupidest thing of all,” he added softly, “is that the part of Casey Lane was always yours, Teresa. I wrote her for you and I always knew you were the only actress for the role.” Teresa gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “You wrote the part of Casey Lane for me?” He nodded. “Teresa, I never stopped thinking about you, wanting you, loving you. I know you may not believe me but I swear I never abandoned you after graduation. My

mother threatened to call the president of Columbia and demand he revoke your scholarship if I didn’t leave you and go to UCLA.” Teresa reared back in shock. “What?” “And I understand why you took the money, too. It took me a long time to forgive you for that but I finally realized that, like me, you had no choice.” Teresa raised one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “What are you talking about? What money?” Ryan searched her face for some hint of deceit, but she looked genuinely puzzled. “The hundred grand that my mom paid you to stay away from me.” To his surprise, Teresa suddenly burst into laughter. Ryan stared at her, bewildered. What was wrong with her? Maybe it was her hormones, he thought. He'd always heard that pregnant women got over-emotional. Whatever it was, though, he couldn't figure out what was funny about taking a bribe from your boyfriend’s mom. “What’s so funny?” he asked. “I saw the bank statement. The money that was paid out to Ms. T. Montague.” Teresa struggled to get her laughter under control. “Did you really, Ryan?” she asked. “Did you actually see a check with my name on it?” Ryan stared back at her in bewilderment. “No, you didn’t,” she went on. “Tell me, Ryan, what's my mother's first name?” Ryan frowned, trying to remember. He'd always just called her Mrs. Montague, but he must have heard her name somewhere along the way. It came to him finally. “Thalia,” he said. “That's right. Ms. T. Montague. Your mother never wrote me a check. It was written to my mother, but I had nothing to do with that and I didn’t even know about it until six years ago.” “What are you talking about? Why would my mother try to bribe your mom? That’s just crazy!” * Teresa’s exhaled a deep breath. She had only recently forgiven her mother for the role she had played in breaking her and Ryan up but she knew that her mother had thought it was for the best. Thalia Montague had been convinced that a rich young man like Ryan would play around with the ordinary girl from the wrong side of the tracks but he would eventually grow tired of her and discard her. Her mother had only been trying to protect her. “It’s not crazy, Ryan. It worked, after all, exactly the way they intended. They made a deal to keep us apart and each of them held up her end of the bargain. Your mother’s job was to send you away while my mother kept me in the dark and worked to convince me that you had abandoned me, and in return, she received a nice check for a hundred grand.” “So what happened to the money?” Teresa just smiled. “Ryan, I love my mom but she definitely will never win the mother of the year award. She spent it, as far as I know, who knows on what? But I swear to you, she didn’t confess any of this to me until a couple of years ago.” “Wait a minute,” Ryan said. “If you found out what they'd done, you must have known I never left you.”

Teresa shook her head sadly. “No, no, I didn’t. When Fatima approached my mom, she made it seem like I was stalking you or something. Like you had this big future all planned out in LA and I was going to ruin it for you. My mom’s job was to keep me out of your hair and away from you, which she did. I ended up being grounded most of the summer. And even after I found out about the money, her defense was that she didn’t want to see me get hurt. She convinced me you had moved on with your life and didn't want me in it, and she was being paid to make sure I didn’t chase after you and humiliate myself even more. Ryan, I thought it was you who sent your mom to clean up your mess. I never knew you were just as much a victim as I was.” He stared down at her, his expression incensed. “Clean up my mess?” he said. “Teresa, I loved you, I never wanted you out of my life. You are my life.” He paused and took in a deep breath, as if trying to inflect some measure of calm in his angry voice. Perhaps he just didn't want to upset her again, now that they were finally talking like two mature adults. “And all this time I thought you let my mom buy you off.” He shook his head. “I’ve wanted to hate my mother, but I just couldn’t do it. My mother was so wrong about you. To think, they went to so much trouble to keep two teenagers apart.” Teresa’s smile was gentle. “They thought we were wrong for each other, Ryan. They both did it out of love.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. A sure sign, Teresa knew, that he was agitated. “God, Teresa. Everyone was against us. No wonder we couldn't make it work back then.” Neither of them spoke for several moments. Teresa's heart was bursting. Ryan had never abandoned her. The discovery filled her with such happiness. Even better, he had told her that he loved her. “I lied,” Ryan finally whispered. “About what?” she asked warily. She wasn't sure she could handle too many more surprises for one night. “I lied to my brother that day you overheard us. This was never just about sex to me. I’m sorry for that. I was trying to protect my stupid pride.” “But why would you lie like that? Especially knowing that you weren’t fooling Adam. You know he knows you better than you know yourself.” “You're probably right. I seem to be the only person who doesn't understand me,” he added ruefully. “That hurt me so deeply, Ryan, especially when I needed to hear you say that you wanted me as more than your mistress…” “But I didn’t know if you had feelings for me. I thought you only cared about your career.” “What? That’s absurd! Ryan. Yes, I wanted a career, but I also hoped that our relationship would grow into something deeper.” “And how was I supposed to know you felt that way? When did you ever say that?” “Look, it wasn’t like you were declaring your love either, buddy.” She poked a finger at his chest to emphasize her point. “Let's face it, we both messed up.” “I never said I was any less to blame for this mess, but I’m telling you now that I love you Teresa.” Ryan let his words hang in the air for several moments. Teresa got the message.

She smiled. “Ryan, I love you too,” she whispered. “I always have and I never stopped either. I gave my heart to you when I was eighteen and you have had it ever since.” With trembling hands, he pulled Teresa into his arms, kissing her deeply. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered finally, resting his forehead against hers and sighing deeply. “We've sure made a mess of this, haven't we?” “Don't forget we had help though.” “Yes. Back then we did. But this time around I think we did most of the fucking up ourselves.” “Agreed.” Teresa nodded solemnly. Teresa sighed then, knowing just how deeply she had messed up. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. “I should have told you about the baby. I should have just told you that I was in love with you. If I’d just been honest, I wouldn’t have spent these past months being so miserable. I missed you so much.” * “I missed you too,” Ryan's voice was shaky. He was so out of his element here. With all his experience with women, he'd never had a conversation like this. There was only one woman with whom he could ever have had it. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He bent down on one knee, clasping Teresa's small hands in his own, and looked up into her eyes, trying to let her see all the love and reverence he had for her. “Teresa Elaine Montague, will you marry me?” he asked. “Tomorrow?” “Ye—what!” Teresa’s eyes widened. “Hell, no!” “What do you mean ‘hell no’?” Really, she was the most infuriating woman he had ever met. “You just said you love me.” “I do. And I do want to marry you…” “Well, then?” “Are you insane? We can't just rush off and get married tomorrow!” “Why not? You're due any day, aren't you, and I want us to be husband and wife before you have my child.” “But it's too soon,” she protested. “We have to get a church and a priest, and invitations and flowers…” “All done,” he said. “Everything except the church, anyway. I arranged to have the wedding take place in my back yard tomorrow evening. It’s a nice backyard too.” “How did you arrange all of this so soon? How did you even know I was going to say yes? I haven’t, by the way.” She put her hand on her hips. “And what about my family and friends?” Ryan got up and took her in his arms again. “Honey, if you love me, please just trust me. I have it all worked out. I’m sorry you couldn’t be more involved, but in order for us to get married before this baby is born, I had to take care of everything. After our child is born, we can renew our vows if you want, and we can plan any kind of ceremony together that you want. We can get married the second time in church. Hell, if you say the word, we'll get married in the Vatican. Just say yes, Teresa. Please.” Teresa lifted her hand to caress his face with her palm. “Yes, Ryan. Yes, I will marry you.” She smiled and kissed her husband-to-be.

Epilogue “So, is it true you went into labor the day of your wedding?” Teresa and Ryan exchanged knowing looks. Ryan smiled graciously. “All we can tell you is that it was a momentous occasion.” He nodded his head towards the reporter before moving down the red carpet. The line was backed up at the next reporter, giving them both a moment to take a breather. Teresa leaned into Ryan, her voice low enough so that only he could hear. “That is the understatement of the century.” She laughed softly. Ryan turned towards her, his eyes dancing with amusement “Don’t remind me. I almost had a heart attack.” Rolling her eyes, Teresa smiled. Their wedding day had been the wildest, craziest day of their lives! Ryan had outdone himself. Apparently, he had informed her mother of his plans and she had secretly helped him, along with Adam, to organize the entire fiasco. Actually, the wedding was fine. Ryan had flown in practically all of her family and friends. He also bought out almost every bridal shop in town, and had her select a gown from what appeared to be hundreds. The day was beautiful. The ceremony was perfect, that is until Teresa went into labor during their vows. Needless to say, they made quick work of the “I do’s” and rushed Teresa to the hospital. Keya Alexis Dumont ended up being born at 12:05am exactly. Teresa thought she was going to be born on their wedding day, but she popped out five minutes into the next day. What a wedding gift that would have been! Yes, it was quite a momentous occasion. Teresa glanced down the line. They had three more reporters to speak with before they could escape inside to the theater. Lifting her head, she whispered seductively into his ear. “I say we leave as soon as the film starts,” she murmured, her eyes glowing with mischief. Ryan’s head snapped towards her, his eyebrows lifting, hissing under his breath. “Baby, we just got here. This is our film! Oh, no.” He shook his head in warning. His eyes darted around the crowd assembled on the red carpet. “No! Don’t! Teresa, stop it! We cannot leave,” he whispered tightly, trying to tamp down his growing desire as Teresa gently stroked him, her movements so discrete that no one besides them knew what was going on. “You’re going to pay for that when we get home,” he rasped out when her hand stopped massaging his now stiff erection. “Just giving you a reason to want to leave sooner rather than later,” she said softly, her warm breath gently teasing the sensitive skin along his ear. Ryan shot her a devilish look that hinted at the early night to come, before he swung his gaze to the reporter who was speaking to him, microphone thrust in their faces. “Ryan, rumor has it that Nemesis is based upon your real life relationship with Teresa. Is there any truth to that?” Teresa’s eyes lingered on Ryan while he spoke. She stared up at the man she had always loved, and always would, and could not imagine being any happier than she had ever been in her entire life. She had everything she had always wanted and so much more.

And to think, all of this had sprung from a plot for revenge. A secret smile lifted the corners of her mouth just as she turned to answer a question the reporter now directed towards her. Yes, revenge was sweet indeed. The End About the Author: Nadia Aidan lives, works and writes in Washington DC. Under her real name, Nadia holds a PhD in Political Science and Public Policy and by day she enjoys her position as an Assistant Professor. In addition to writing erotic romances, Nadia loves reading other authors, playing flag football, studying muay thai, working out, listening to music, and scuba diving Her other interests include collecting Top Cow comics, especially Witchblade and Tomb Raider. She also loves professional football and soccer; and her favorite teams are the Washington Redskins and Manchester United, respectively. Nadia loves watching, reading about, and writing about strong, assertive heroines, which is why she is an enduring fan of Fight Girls, Xena, Buffy, and La Femme Nikita!

Meet LSB Authors At The House Of Sin Lsbooks.NET We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances. 2007: Terran Realm Urban fantasy world: TerranRealm.com Featured Series: The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay Fallen: by Tiffany Aaron Fallen angels in hot flight to redeem their wings The Max Series by JB Skully Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother… And many, many more!