Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (inspirational books .TXT) 📗

the bodice was completely backless. Julian went stiff with want. He yearned to take her in his arms, and it took effort to suppress the urge.

“Don’t just stand there,” she said. “Come in! I have something for you.”

He stepped into her room and cast a look around. The Garden Room lived up to its name with hand-painted flowers scattered all over the walls, a bed covered with a floral duvet and drapes with stitched flowers framing a view of the enclosed garden—the one with the famed statue of Aphrodite. As an added touch, the orchid Amelia had selected for her was sitting on the nightstand. “So, this is it,” he said. “Like it?”

“I like it well enough.” She walked to a corner desk and grabbed a few sheets of paper. “I read the screenplay and made notes.”

Julian took the few pieces of hotel stationery from her hands and inspected them. “I should’ve thought twice before asking a writer to read anything.”

She snatched the pages from him. “It’s a good thing. I’m excited!”

“But are you hungry?” he asked, hoping for a diversion. “Ready for dinner?”

“Ready! I’ll grab my purse.”

She headed over to the dresser and dabbed perfume on the insides of her wrists. The gesture was so intimate, Julian felt privileged to watch it.

“Nina,” he said.

She tossed him a look over her shoulder. He forgot what he wanted to say.

“Yes?”

“Uh… Right. Bring your notes. It’s early. We can talk over drinks.”

“Ah!” She folded the pages into a tiny clutch purse. “Now you’re talking my love language.”

* * *

They were seated at the hotel bar with a half hour ahead of them. When Francisco and his date arrived, they’d have the dining room to themselves—Julian had seen to it. Who knew how many first dates and birthday dinners were canceled to accommodate him? Only he wasn’t too worried about it, not if it meant guaranteeing quiet time with Nina…and Francisco, too.

Their reflection was splashed against the mirrored wall. Seated like this, facing each other, dressed as they were, Julian couldn’t deny it: they were one smoking-hot couple. Not that appearances mattered for anything. Still, it was hard to ignore the truth.

Hands shaking, she pulled her notes from her bag and smoothed them on the onyx bar top. “You wrote Midnight Sun,” Nina said. “There’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.”

He paused, took a sip of his gin and tonic. “What makes you say that?”

Julian had taken precautions to send her an unmarked copy. He’d wanted her honest opinion.

“Every character sounds like you,” she said.

He winced and reached for his drink again.

“Don’t look so worried. I told you I liked it.”

He thumbed through her notes open on the onyx bar top. “So, what’s all this?”

“Just some notes.” She sat up straight and crossed her legs. The slit of the skirt spread to reveal toned thighs. Julian’s gaze skidded off the pages onto her lap. “Which role are you playing?”

Julian hesitated. Would she be disappointed when he told her? He wasn’t the star of his own movie. He couldn’t be. If he were going to salvage his career, he’d have to try new things. And he couldn’t do that if a film’s success rested on his name and image. That left him with supporting roles, which meant his star would dim. Not the one on Hollywood Boulevard, thankfully. That one was set in concrete.

“I play Luke.”

“The con artist? Oh, God… I love him!”

In that moment, Julian loved her.

“That scene when he drives Amanda home from the party is so tender,” she said. “I’m glad the lead is a woman. That was a good choice.”

“Is the dialogue that terrible?”

“Actors need lines. Good delivery isn’t enough. It has to be on the page. I learned that from my mother.”

She was so brilliant; Julian couldn’t get over it. When she picked up her dirty martini, he reached out and toyed with the gold bracelet at her wrist. She brought the glass to her lips, her eyes on him, her expression dark. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that she was making up her mind about him. God, he liked his chances!

“Julian! There you are!”

Francisco was early. Nina turned to the voice and recognized the actor. In his motorized chair, he looked sharp in a dark blue suit. She slipped off the bar stool and floated over to him. “Francisco Cortes! What an honor!”

Frank beamed up at her. He had not lost his matinee-idol looks: deep tan, chiseled jaw, trim beard and sterling silver hair. Julian approached and introduced her properly. “Frank, this is Nina Taylor. Nina is a very talented writer and a friend.”

“Nina, I’m familiar with your work.”

“Really?”

She seemed completely flabbergasted. Did she not understand the reach and importance of her work?

“Oh, yes,” Frank said. “I caught your mother on stage once. Brilliant performance! And you know we actors love to read about ourselves. That can’t be helped.”

“Well, I loved you in The Longest Day. That might be my favorite movie of all time.”

Francisco laughed. “Have I interrupted something? I arrived early, I know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julian said. “You honor us.”

Grace joined them. She and Francisco went way back, and she was his date for the evening. They took off ahead of them, Grace leading the way to the dining room. Nina and Julian followed.

“You weren’t that excited to meet me,” Julian said, speaking low so only Nina would hear. The added precaution wasn’t necessary. Frank and Grace were enthralled with each other.

Nina did nothing to conceal her joy at his petty display of jealousy. “Francisco Cortes isn’t disrupting my vacation plans.”

“You didn’t know any of my films.”

“None of your films were featured at the Tribeca Film Festival,” she said. “I can’t be blamed for that.”

“Is Grace single?” he asked. “See how Frank is looking at her?”

“Lucky woman!” Nina exclaimed.

“Go on and twist the knife,” he said.

She laughed and slipped her hand in his.

The dining room was an intimate setting with sloped ceilings and shell-inlaid walls that gleamed in flickering candlelight. He’d seen