A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,46

a really long few days. Her entire body felt rigid, a walking robot, as they marched past the cameraman, eyes firmly fixed on the front door.

She stumbled on the gray-painted wooden steps and suppressed a curse, but Con’s strong arm stopped her from falling. When they opened the door, Gia was right there with her clipboard.

“Let’s do that again,” called the cameraman, just as Lizzie was about to dive into the welcome shade of the interior.

She turned to greet the man she’d so pointedly ignored, but he didn’t notice as he was busy doing something to his camera.

“He wants you to get back in the car and walk up again. It’s often more natural the second time.” Gia smiled. “More real.”

Chapter 12

Lizzie’s sandals squeaked on the polished wood floors as she trailed behind Gia during their tour of the house. She could smell fresh paint on the walls and even the draperies looked brand-new—expensive reproductions in luxurious fabrics. Fine antiques occupied the rooms with stately confidence that implied they’d been there since the house was built.

The only serious snag seemed to be a lack of air conditioning. The system had died and apparently they were waiting to install new duct work before replacing it. The kitchen was a relic from the 1930’s, with monstrous white enameled appliances and a sink large enough to gut a pig, but since the show had brought a genuine Louisiana chef with them from New York, that wasn’t her problem.

Their tour ended in the master bedroom, which unfortunately Gia expected them to share. The four-poster bed loomed in the middle of the room like a prison with only four bars. Con already sprawled across it, the jailor.

“C’mon, babe, you know you sleep better wrapped up in my arms.” He tipped his head and smiled softly at her, for the benefit of Gia and Dino, who stood in the doorway.

She stiffened. Unfortunately, it was true. She had such a terrible time sleeping lately she’d take a tranquilizer if it would help her rest. Con’s arms were cheaper and more readily available, if no less addictive.

“To be honest, we don’t really have a spare bed,” said Gia. “Other people would have to double up if one of you takes another room.”

Lizzie smiled stiffly. “I’m just worried about shocking the viewers.” Thank God the camera was off for now.

“No sweat,” said Dino with a dimpled grin. He was a young guy with messy black hair and an easy manner. “Our viewers are pretty open minded. The show’s slated to air right after co-ed wrestling so whatever you do will look pretty tame.”

Lizzie cringed. “Right then, we’ll share this room. It’s lovely, thank you.” Her smile ached. “I’ll take a quick nap if you don’t mind.” It was the best she could come up with short of saying, please leave.

Con winked and smoothed a spot on the bed with splayed fingers. Gia giggled. God, she was practically drooling over him. And he’d already established an easy rapport with Dino the cameraman and Raoul the makeup guy, who’d announced that Con didn’t need makeup. His expression had suggested there wasn’t quite enough makeup in the world for her.

Gia waved at Con and smiled at Lizzie. “Catch you later! Dinner’s at seven and don’t forget we’ll be filming as you come down the stairs.”

“Looking forward to it!” Her smile made one last gargantuan effort, then collapsed as the door closed behind them.

“Get off the bed,” she growled, hurling herself onto it.

“I don’t think so.” He shifted onto his side, looking disgustingly comfortable.

“What the hell are you playing at? I swear, next time you call me babe, I’m going to slap you.”

“I’ve always called you babe.”

“Not in public.”

“True.” He stretched, flexing his muscles until they cracked. “But we’ve never had much of an audience before, have we? I never met your friends. You kept me pretty much under wraps.”

“I’m a quiet, reclusive type.” She stared up at the brocade hanging over the bed, relieved it looked freshly laundered. “I like to keep to myself. That way I don’t have to worry about people trying to trick me and lie to me.”

Her nerves were frayed from keeping a smile fixed in place all afternoon. A question she’d never thought to ask before had popped into her brain almost as soon as they were trapped under the stare of the camera. “When we arranged to meet for lunch that day, and you didn’t show up, and you let me think you worked in the