Touching the Billionaire - Holly Jaymes Page 0,30

to focus more on how to control these crazy urges and feelings I had when I was around her.

Rehearsal

Madeline

Seeing Theo on the set threw me for a loop. The insecure part of me automatically thought maybe something was wrong with my work. In fact, he seemed to have that same effect on the cast and crew when they realized he was there. They all stood a little straighter, their behavior becoming a little bit more stilted and professional than the relaxed atmosphere that we had prior to his arriving.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. He was friendly as he greeted everyone, but then ushered me to a private area and invited me to dinner. Well, not to dinner like on a date. It was a working dinner. I appreciated that he was concerned about my comfort and confidence in doing the upcoming sex scene for the film. Even so, I was sure it was going to be awkward to sit over dinner with him and talk about the logistics of a sex scene. I wondered how detailed he would get. Would he walk me through each hand placement? A tingle ran through my body as I imagined his hands on me.

After he left, it took me a few minutes to get my bearings straight again. Fortunately, we were having a lunch break so I was able to distract myself with lunch and talking with my coworkers. Then it was back on the set, completing the filming schedule for the day.

When we were finished, I headed back to the condo. As I stepped into the elevator, I wished I told them I’d be there at seven-thirty or eight. I would’ve liked to have time to go home and get cleaned up. I was back in my civilian clothes, but since I left home at four-thirty that morning, I’d just pulled on a pair of jeans, a loose-fitting peasant top, and a pair of flats. I’d washed off my makeup before I left the studio, but I still had my hair up in a ponytail as my character generally wore when she was working. As I rode up to the twentieth floor, I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a date and it didn’t matter what I looked like.

When I got to Theo’s condo door, I took a breath and knocked. He answered the door wearing jeans and a t-shirt. In some ways I was relieved. At least I wasn’t underdressed.

“Come on in,” he said, holding the door wide so I could step in.

I scanned his apartment, noting it was exactly what one might imagine a rich bachelor would live in. It was modern with clean crisp lines. There wasn’t a lot in the way of photographs or decor. Still, the leather couches looked comfortable and homey. Or maybe it was the scent of garlic wafting through the place that made it seem warm and welcoming.

“I hope you like Italian. I decided on pasta Primavera and then I remembered that many women don’t like pasta anymore,” he said.

“I like pasta.”

He motioned for me to enter further into his home and out on the terrace. He had a dining area in the open part of his kitchen, but he had set up a table outside on the terrace. The romantic in me thought it was a lovely setting. This is a working dinner, I reminded myself. After a cold winter and blustery spring, everyone wanted to be outside in the warm air, so it made sense that he set up dinner on the terrace.

“Do you want some wine?” he asked.

I was feeling nervous enough that I’d probably have taken a shot if he offered. Instead, I said, “Wine would be lovely.”

I sat down at the table, pulling out my script and opening it to the pages for the sex scene. He returned with wine and then disappeared again to get our dinner. I wondered if we would eat first and work later or if we were going to work through dinner, discussing the intimacies of sex while eating pasta. Then I wondered why I was making this so complicated. I just needed to go with the flow.

He returned with our plates filled with pasta and vegetables. He’d said he wasn’t a gourmet but the dish looked and smelled delicious.

“I think maybe you’ve undersold your cooking skills,” I said as I picked up my fork.

“You think so?”

“I’ll have to take a bite to be sure but it looks delicious.” I stuck my