CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Art nodded.

Ms. Morganstein gave Deborah a droll look. "Who else?"

"But you know how he feels about the film industry." Rock's recent softening did not mean the man was ready to invest in a movie production.

A single, thin, shaped brow rose on Ms. Morganstein's face. "We know that if we don't get an influx of some serious cash soon, not only are we going to have quit filming, but we're going to have a hell of a time making payroll at any level, much less fly our people home."

"It's that serious? You said you got some money lined up," Deborah reminded Art helplessly.

The director's lips twisted in a grimace. "Enough to juggle so we can keep going, but if we don't shore up our finances fast, this whole house of cards is going to come crashing down."

Deborah bit back what she wanted to say about signing a contract with a single backer who could pull funds without notice and less consequences. Art had his reasons, she was sure, as did Ms. Morganstein, but that didn't help what was happening now.

"Rock isn't going to invest," she said instead.

"Carey thinks he might. If you ask him."

"You already spoke to Carey?" Deborah wasn't happy.

Carey was lead actor, yes, but he didn't have production credits like she did.

"We wanted him to ask Rock, but he didn't think his brother would be as receptive to him as he would be to you."

"Because we're sleeping together? We don't even have plans to see each other once the movie wraps." Deborah ignored the twinge of pain that truth caused.

"Never underestimate how influenced by his libido a man can be," Art said with conviction.

Deborah scoffed, "Rock isn't the type."

"Every man is the type." Ms. Morganstein's shark's grin was not comforting.

"You want me to trade on our sexual chemistry?" Deborah asked with disbelief. "I'm not a whore."

"We're not asking you to sell yourself to him," Ms. Morganstein said, managing to sound offended. "You're already sleeping together. We're asking, no…telling you, to do your job."

"How is asking Rock for money my job?" Deborah demanded. "I'm getting a minor production and directing credit on this film. I'm not on any of the legal paperwork, other than my own contract."

Rock didn't even know she had other roles because of that.

"Trust me, getting investors is part of even a minor production player's job." Ms. Morganstein crossed her legs, smoothing her pencil straight skirt. "When necessary."

"So, I'll ask producers on my past projects." Deborah didn't have many connections, but she had some.

Frowning, Art shook his head. "We don't need everyone in Hollywood to know we're begging for money. This film is too important for it to have negative rumors surrounding it before we even make it out of production."

Which possibly further explained why the other two, with all their connections, were having a hard time replacing their angel investor.

"I don't want to ask Rock." There, she'd said it.

She wanted a chance at the future they never discussed. She didn't think asking him for money for the movie would help with that.

"Do you believe in this project?" Art asked, his voice intense with his own passionate support of the film.

"You know I do."

"Do you believe it is a movie that should be made?" he pushed further.

"Of course, I do." She'd taken lead female role, for Heaven's sake.

"Do you think it's going to fail at the box office and at the film festivals?" Ms. Morganstein asked coldly.

"No! I really believe this movie is going to do well. The production quality, the writing, the actors, all of it are top notch. Which is why I don't think we'll have any trouble finding funding from usual sources."

Ms. Morganstein sighed, her gaze filled with mockery. "Then you are very naïve and I'm not sure how well you'll do on the other side of the camera."

That hurt, and scared Deborah just a little. "What are you saying?"

"That you learn to leverage the relationships you have to make a project work." There was no compromise in Ms. Morganstein's tone or expression.

She expected compliance from Deborah and she meant to get it.

Deborah looked at Art. "You're saying you'd ask your wife for the money?"

Not that she and Rock had nearly that serious of a relationship, but still.

"You don't think she's played major investor in more than one of my movies?" Art asked with a laugh. "What kind of marriage would we have if she didn't believe in me, in what I do?"

And just like that, an epiphany washed through Deborah's brain and heart.

If Rock couldn't respect her choice of careers, the single thing that had dominated her life for the past ten years, then they had very little chance at a future. She didn't need him to invest in the movie, but she did need to be able to ask the venture capitalist if he was willing to do it.

If doing so made him mad, or want to break off their sexual relationship, then they had less of a connection than she believed they did. They had no hope for the future.

"Okay, I'll ask him, but I don't think he'll do it," she felt compelled to point out.

"It's your job to convince him," Art replied implacably.

Deborah frowned. "I'll do my best, but I'm not making this about him and me and what we've found together."

"Nor should you," Ms. Morganstein said.

Deborah couldn't quite buy into the other woman's sincerity after the earlier part of their conversation. She believed neither executive expected her to prostitute herself, but they clearly expected her to trade on Rock's attraction to her.

 

Deborah ran into Carey and Marilyn in the hall when she returned to Rock's home. Both appeared stressed and worried.

The way Carey surged toward her the minute she walked through the door said he'd been waiting for her to show up. "Hey, Deborah."

"Hi, Carey."

"Did you meet with Ms. Morganstein and Art?"

"I did."

 

"They asked you to go to Rock for the money for the movie, didn't they?" The younger man didn't sound happy by the prospect.

Deborah nodded. "They made some good points."

Marilyn winced, her hands clasped in front of her tightly. "There are no good points about our industry as far as my brother is concerned."

"I think you'd be surprised." Deborah remembered the gallery wall of their parents' accomplishments. "He just told me last night that he wants us to talk about the movie at dinner."

"He did?" Carey asked with shock.

But Marilyn didn't look hopeful. "I think it's a big leap from there to asking him to fund a movie."

"I'm not asking him to replace Mr. Barston as a single investor." No matter what her bosses might want. "But I'm confident that he'll make a profit on whatever he does invest. That can't be a bad thing. He's a venture capitalist. It's what he does."

"Not in Hollywood," Marilyn said with certainty. "And you can never be sure about breaking even, much less making a profit, on a movie."

Carey nodded emphatically in agreement with his sister's words. "Look, Deborah, when I told Art and Ms. Morganstein that I thought you'd have a better chance talking Rock into it, I wasn't saying I thought it was possible at all."

"Did you tell them that?" Deborah asked.

"Yes," Carey replied, all earnest and still worried. "But they wouldn't listen. They're convinced that since he agreed to let us film and he's made compromises on the schedule because of the bad luck we've had and Marilyn's visit, that means he's more open to the benefits of making a movie than we think."

"They believe they know your brother better than you do?" Deborah asked, not too surprised.

Art and Ms. Morganstein were good at what they did, but with that success had come a certain amount of arrogant assurance they knew best.

Yeah, well, not so much, if they'd trusted Nevin Barston to fund the film and he'd backed out.

Carey nodded, unhappiness all over his handsome young face. "But they don't. If you ask Rock for the money he's going to be so pissed at you."

"You've lost your affected accent completely, did you know that?" Deborah asked with a smile, realizing how much she'd come to like her costar.

Carey ducked his head, blushing. "It didn't work for the film anyway."

"No, it didn't."

Marilyn made a sound of frustration, her youth obvious in her impatience for once. "Who cares about Carey's stupid attempts to pretend to be something he's not?" She glared at Deborah, like she couldn’t believe Deborah was as dumb as she'd accused Carey of being. "You're going to destroy your relationship with Rock if you do this."

"I'm not stupid!" Carey was so not happy with his twin. "And it wasn't about hiding."

"Wasn't it?" Marilyn asked with a knowing look, only a close sibling could give.

Carey deflated. "Maybe a little."

"Just be yourself. That's good enough." Marilyn patted her brother's arm.

"That's what Rock always says," Carey said.

"Where do you think I got it, dork?"

"I'm not a dork!"

Deborah had enough of this digression. "If asking Rock something complete strangers are allowed to pitch to him destroys what we have then we don't have anything." And Deborah had to believe that wasn't the case.

Marilyn shook her head, clearly not convinced. "I don't think you understand how deeply my brother's antipathy for all things Hollywood runs."

"Even me?" Deborah asked, pain twinging again. Because, really, that was what this was all about.

"Not you," Marilyn assured Deborah. "You're the one exception, I think."

"Your brother loves you and Carey. He's always on your side." That made them pretty big exceptions.

"But he hates that we followed our parents into their industry," Carey said morosely.

Deborah smiled at the younger actor. "He's made concessions for both of your dreams no one would have expected." Certainly not her.

At least not when she'd first met Rock. She'd come to see that his concern for his siblings outweighed Rock's dislike of the industry they were in.

Carey rubbed the back of his neck. "That doesn’t mean he's going to be okay with you asking him to financially support the industry he hates so much."

"What is letting us use the property for filming if not supporting that industry?" Deborah asked, not sure she bought the young man's reasoning.

"That's different."

Deborah didn't see how and said so.

"I'd already made a promise, signed a contract. If Rock refused, then that was me breaking my word." Carey looked ashamed of what he was admitting. "He wouldn't make me do that if he had a choice."

"And you knew it when you signed that stupid contract," Marilyn said with some heat.

Carey scowled at his sister. "Let up on the stupid word, would you? I know I made a mistake." He sighed, then brightened. "But it turned out."

"You hurt him." Marilyn looked at her twin with reproach.

Carey winced. "I told him I was sorry."

"And were you?" Marilyn demanded, as if she was the older sibling instead of Rock.

"Yes, damn it, Mare; you know I was!"

"Okay, we're digressing here again, guys," Deborah interjected.

The siblings looked at her.

"The fact is, if asking Rock to invest in this movie causes a major chasm between us, then we've got no chance at making our relationship work." Because that would indicate they didn't really have a relationship to begin with, that he truly despised a big part of who Deborah was. "He doesn't have to say yes, but this is my industry and working in it is who I am. If he can't accept that, what kind of future could we have together?"

"But you're so good for him," Marilyn lamented, like a break-up was a foregone conclusion.

"He's really happy with you around," Carey added, looking like he was already grieving their lost relationship too.

"You two don't need to be so gloom and doom. As much as I didn't want to do this when Art and Ms. Morganstein first told me it's what they wanted, I honestly believe investing in the movie will be good for your brother. I wouldn't ask him otherwise."

"I'm not sure that's going to matter to him," Carey said woefully.

 

Frowning, Rock put the phone down. Benji had called because there was news about the attack on Rock and Deborah. Apparently, another criminal overheard them talking in the holding cell Amos and Virgil had been moved to after getting medical treatment for the wounds Rock had inflicted. The guy facing drunk and disorderly charges was looking for a deal in exchange for information.

He'd overheard the two miscreants talking about not going down alone if their employer didn't come up with a good lawyer for them. They'd complained bitterly about charging too little for all the pain they'd suffered.

Rock had almost smiled at that, but now he shook his head, disbelief warring with fury. From their conversation, it sounded like the two men had been hired to harass Deborah. The sheriff thought that might be why they'd threatened actions they hadn't perpetrated on their other robbery victims. Benji had surmised that no one had expected Rock's reaction and ability to overpower them, which had ended up with them being arrested.

What Rock couldn't figure out was why someone would hire those two losers to harass Deborah. Whatever the motive, he didn't like knowing she was at risk in some way. That some nameless person wanted to hurt her.

Rock considered all the bad luck the film had suffered since the crew and actors had arrived in Alaska and he didn't like the string of coincidences. Though none of them had been directly targeted at Deborah, it still felt off.

Like maybe somehow all of this was connected.

But why? Rock didn't like not knowing the answers.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" Deborah's sexy contralto interrupted his frustrated musings.

She stood in the door, her killer legs encased in skinny jeans the color of wheat, her blue tank top's scoop neck revealing the upper swell of her breasts, but their curves only hinted at by the long vest she wore over it. She'd put some chunky jewelry on, but it was her espresso dark eyes that really sparkled for him.

Letting go of his frustration over the call with Benji, Rock stood up from his desk. "For you? I've got several minutes."

He came around to stand near the beautiful woman, the warmth in her gaze going straight to his dick. He pulled her into his body without thought, smiling down at her. "I thought you were filming today, but the house is suspiciously silent."

Her smile dimming a little, Deborah sighed and nodded. "Art and Ms. Morganstein had something come up."

"Another accident?" he asked, his suspicions aroused all over again.

"No, nothing like that." She frowned, but settled in against him, her hands landing on his chest. "Not this time anyway."

"So, you have the day off?" he asked, intent heavy in his voice.

She looked up at him flirtatiously through her lashes. "I do. I'd like to talk to you about something later, but first let’s take care of this." She reached down between them and squeezed his erection through his jeans.

Rock groaned. "I've got something I need to talk to you about too, hot stuff, but right now all I can think about is being inside you." It was always like that when she was around. His libido was in overdrive with no indication of burning out.

She gave a husky laugh. "Sounds about right."

Yeah, talking could definitely come later.

He leaned down and kissed her, the feel of her soft lips against his sending his pulse skyrocketing. She tasted so good and opened her mouth for him without hesitation when he traced the seam between her lips with the tip of his tongue.

This ache he had for her never went away and right now it was thrumming through his blood like an electric current. She kissed him back without hesitation, her arms coming up and her hands locking behind his neck, her body pressing provocatively against his.

Blood filled his cock, his own arms locking around her of their own volition. Rock grabbed Deborah's ass with both hands, so turned on by the feel of her curves in his grasp, he could hammer nails with his dick.

Rock's brain played technicolor images of her splayed out on his desk, naked and ready for him. Damn. He wanted her. Now. Just like that.

To hell with work. To hell with anything else.

He pulled her closer even as he started moving toward the desk, bringing her with him. Deborah moaned, trying to climb him like a jungle gym. Her reaction to him was more open and intense than any other woman he'd touched.

Rock cleared the desk with a swipe of his hand, not caring about the clunking of detritus hitting the floor. All he cared about was getting her clothes off and Deborah up on a flat surface.

He lifted her and placed her on the cleared desk, immediately going for the hem on her tank top.

She broke her lips from his, panting. "Rock…"

"Let me take this off you."

She nodded, lifting her arms and he tugged the top and vest off in one movement.

"Oh, yes, that's so pretty." Her luscious breasts were barely covered in a lacy bra that pushed them up for his delectation.

She pressed against his chest. "Rock."

"What?" He didn't look away from what he was doing, and that was removing the clothing blocking his view of his lover.

"Stop!"

"Stop?" he asked, trying to process the word.

"Not…just…the door, Rock. It's open."

"Oh." He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to let go of her, making himself take a step back. "Right. We don't need anyone walking in."

Apparently, she hadn't come in here with the intention of getting mauled. She didn't seem to mind the outcome though.

"No, we don't." Her sensual smile about broke his determination to get to the door and lock it.

But no way did Rock want his brother, sister or God forbid, Mrs. Painter walking in and interrupting him and Deborah during a critical moment. And all of them were in the house right now. Having sex in his office, even with the door locked, didn't guarantee they wouldn't be interrupted. Just not walked in on.

And he wasn't waiting.

Rock crossed the room with long, fast strides before slamming the door shut and locking it with a definitive click. He was back in front of her a couple of seconds later.

"Happy now?" he asked, taking in her smooth, barely dressed body.

She nodded, her gaze haze with desire. For him. "Uh huh."

Such a damn turn on, to be wanted with the same kind of uncontrollable need as he felt toward her.

"Take off your jeans," he growled, tearing out of his own clothes, urgency riding him hard.

The fact that they'd made love that morning didn't matter to Rock's body. He was already hard, aching to be inside her wet heat.

"I will." Watching him, her expression infused with lust, Deborah reached behind her back and unclipped her bra with a soft snick. Then she was peeling it away from her body, revealing the lush curves of her breast to his gaze, nipples already peaked and flush with desire.

Had he ever had a lover as in tune with him as this woman?

Naked and impatient, he moved to help with her jeans and underwear after she'd let her shoes drop to the floor. Their hands got tangled, but he got the button open on her fly and then the zipper down. He yanked at her jeans, pulling them off her body, taking the little scrap of silk she called underwear with them.

Deborah lifted her hips to make it easier to get the denim off, her breath already coming out in short pants.

She settled back on the desk, her legs spread, opening herself to him, letting him look his fill before beckoning with her hand. "Come here, Rock."

"You are so damn sexy, woman." Her neatly defined dark patch of curls glistened with moisture he wanted to taste. Her sex beckoned him to be inside her. Her nipples tantalized like hard, ripe berries.

The come-and-get-it look in her eyes infused him with another layer of want.

There was not one damn thing about her that Rock didn't find a sexual turn on. But hell, if he didn't want to spend time with her outside the bedroom too.

Deborah Banes, actor, was one hell of a woman.

"Pot? Meet kettle." She winked at him, her smile one-hundred percent sensual woman. "You are all that, Rock."

He laughed, his chest warm. This woman!

She touched her own nipples, letting her head fall back, the look of pleasure on her face gorgeous.

He stepped between her spread thighs, reaching down to gently brush her hands away, taking over the stimulation, loving the weight of her curves in his hand, the sensation of her already hard nipples against his fingertips.

She moaned. "That feels so good. You know just how to touch me."

"Touching you is addictive." So, addictive he seriously didn't want to have to consider the time that was coming when he wouldn't be able to do it anymore.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He pulled her hips forward so his sex brushed against her glistening folds. Canting his hips so his head rubbed against her clitoris, he elicited more sexy and tempting pleasure noises from her.

He leaned forward, nuzzling that soft place where her neck met her shoulder, her skin so soft, her scent tantalizing. "I want you, sweetheart."

"Then have me, Rock."

But he wasn't taking her until Deborah was as aching for it as he was. He dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of her arousal, his mouth watering for the taste of her. Rock flicked his tongue out, swiping along slick, swollen folds, eliciting a deep moan from her. He tasted her juices, reveling in the fragrance of her need.

Moving to the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her labia, he tasted, teased and finally nibbled oh so gently with his teeth. She rocked her hips, making desperate little sounds that amped up his pleasure and his need to be inside her. He sucked on her clitoris, putting two fingers inside her and curling upward, searching for her G-spot.

Deborah tried to come up off the desk, her shout husky and demanding.

Got it.

"Oh…Rock…I'm going to come if you don't stop." She moved with unselfconscious pleasure against his mouth and fingers.

He lifted his head, her sound of protest exactly what he wanted to hear. He smiled up at her, loving the way she was totally abandoned to pleasure. "That's the plan, right?"

"Inside me," she demanded, her voice choppy with her panting breaths. "I want you inside me."

"You sure?" He sipped at her pleasure point again, pressing inside against her G-spot.

"Yes, darn it. I want!"