Moments ago, the remark would have annoyed him. It would have egged him on to prove her wrong. But she had bested him. He was impressed.
So instead of replying with bravado or machismo, he smiled and raised his hands to his chest—a tanned, broad chest lightly dusted with blond hair that he noticed her eyeing with interest.She could tell him she had never seen his films until her face turned blue, but she could not deny that the living, breathing Flynn Banks intrigued her.
He resisted the urge to preen. Mostly because her blade was still at his throat.
“I admit defeat. You undersold it when you said you hadsomeexperience with a blade.”
“I was the fencing champion of my county five years running.”
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. He burst out laughing. The little minx.
To his surprise, she started laughing too, that tinkly, champagne-bubble laugh he was already starting to consider one of his favorite sounds. She moved her blade to the side and gently laid it down, offering him her hand. But he wanted to stay here one more moment—on the floor, his shirt flayed to pieces, Liv de Lesseps astride him with her sword at his throat, standing over him like a pirate queen. It was…intoxicating.
Maybe pretending to date this woman wouldn’t be so bad.
Chapter 8
Livvy was exhausted. Judy had wanted them to go out tonight to celebrate their first week in Hollywood, but it had been a very long week, full of fencing lessons, corset fittings, and only the slightest bit of acting. So, Judy had decided to try to pick up a shift at the Sphinx Club. God knew they needed the money. As for Livvy, she was going to soak in the tub with the lights off and then get into bed early to read the new book she’d picked up from the Hollywood Boulevard library. Livvy let herself in to the tiny apartment and was surprised to find Judy sitting on the couch, clutching a copy ofReel Storiesto her chest and grinning like a fiend.
“I thought you had to work at the club tonight.”
Judy waved her off. “Nah, they want me to get more dance rehearsals in before I take a shift on the floor.”
“What’s that?” Livvy gestured to the magazine her sister was holding.
Her sister turned it around, holding it open to a giant spread with a large script-font headline that read,Does Flynn Banks have a new lady love?It was plastered over images of Livvy and Flynn leaving the lot, hand in hand. Harry had arranged the “candid” photo shoot Tuesday afternoon, tipping off reporters that Flynn and Livvy were going to be taking a late lunch together, having immediately sparked to each other.
Judy squealed. “You’re already in the fan magazines, and you’ve only been in Hollywood for a week!”
Livvy smiled wanly, and Judy shook her head. “Fame is wasted on you,” her sister said, sighing. Livvy walked behind the couch and pressed a kiss to the top of her sister’s head.
“It certainly is. If I could just act, that’d be one thing. I am enjoying that part of the job. But the rest of it—endless costume fittings, posing for photographers, fame? You can have it. And you will. Soon, it’ll be you in those fan magazines.”
Judy shook her off. “I was just teasing, Livvy. You deserve it just as much as I do. If not more.”
“Deserving’s got nothing to do with it. You’re the one who wanted it. Who has always wanted it.” Livvy looked at her sister and fought back tears. How had they ended up here? Their parents dead. Livvy doing a job that should have been Judy’s. And Judy dancing in some seedy joint that didn’t seem to care about protecting their employees from harm. It wasn’t the life either of them had dreamed of.
God, it had been such a long week. She had considered quitting at least ten times. But then she would remember why they were here, why she’d said yes to the one-picture contract. To get them to Hollywood. To give Judy a crack at her dream. But she had made that goal before a publicity stunt with Flynn Banks was added to the equation, before she had to endure staged photo ops like the one inReel Storiesmagazine. The whole thing was exhausting.
Judy leaned her head back against the couch and looked up at Livvy. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Livvy lied. “I’m just tired.”
Judy patted the top of Livvy’s hand gently. “I made you supper. Let me get it for you.” Judy stood and Livvy collapsed ontheir couch. When Judy returned, she was carrying a plate and limping her way across the room.
“What happened?” Livvy leapt up, taking the plate from Judy’s hands and ushering her sister back to the couch.
Judy rolled her eyes. “Are you going to fuss over me like this every time I take a spill? Dancing is hard on the body, you know that.”
Livvy ignored her, crouching on the floor and picking up Judy’s foot to examine her ankle more closely. She could see now that it was swollen. Not badly, but enough to tell Judy had sprained it. “First, you hurt your wrist dancing, now your ankle? What kind of safety measures does this place have?”
Judy yanked her foot out of Livvy’s grasp, wincing at the sudden movement. “Livvy, you can’t go to pieces every time I get a little bump or bruise. It’s a normal part of the job.”
Livvy eyed her sister skeptically. Judy’s story didn’t add up. The kid had been dancing most of her life, and she’d never sustained injuries like this in such quick succession. “It seems a bit too frequent for my taste.”
“Well, that’s why I need more rehearsals. This choreography is harder than anything I’ve done before.”
Livvy wanted to argue and ask more questions. Because something was not right. Judy wasn’t telling the whole truth. But Livvy was too tired, and she had to trust her at some point, didn’t she? Short of quitting her job to accompany Judy to rehearsals, there wasn’t much she could do besides take her sister at her word. So, she bit her tongue and reached for the plate Judy had prepared for her. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful, okay?”
