“Me-ha,” she answered.
His brows knit together.
Cindy looked down at the puddle growing beneath her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered, though it wasn’t from the cold. Beau’s gaze was … intense.
“Come on, I have towels inside.” Beau took her elbow and motioned for her to head into the house.
She took two steps before remembering why she was there. “Wait!” She dove for the buffet table, moving plates and finally scrambling underneath. It had to be here somewhere. The envelope was over eleven inches long and couldn’t just disappear. On her hands and knees, she felt around in the dark.
Beau lifted the tablecloth. He squatted on his haunches and looked all sorts of adorable with his mildly entertained air and half-smile. “Are you on a binge or something?”
Cindy crawled to the far end near a half wall and lifted the white linen. “No, I threw my script over here and—Ha!” She pulled the envelope out from between the table leg and the low rock wall. Crawling out, she popped up and grinned.
“Script?” Beau put his hands in his pockets like the last thing he wanted to do was touch her work. “Did you crash my party?”
Technically… “I didn’t come for the party. I’m from Knight Studios.” She flipped the packet over to show him the seal.
“Oh. Thanks.” He took the script and set it on the edge of the table next to a tray of sushi. “Should we get you that towel?”
She stared at the script, and all the hours of work, the pressure to perform at a level that was worthy of her last name, and the risk she’d taken to bring it over—not to mention her twelve o’clock deadline—washed over her. There was no turning back. The only way to move forward was to go deep into the lion’s den. She glanced at Beau. He wasn’t a lion, more like a big grizzly bear—with less hair, thank goodness. “I’ll take that towel.” She picked up the script. “Is there someplace … safer you can put this?”
He grinned like a wolf. “Sure, follow me.”
For the second time that night, Cindy found herself picked up by a man. Although Beau wasn’t holding her in his arms or touching her backside—thank goodness!—he had just as much control over her with his raw magnetism and charisma.
As she followed him through the plantation doors, she tried not to drip on the hardwood floors and expensive carpets, but her efforts were in vain. Beau continued through the house, knowing exactly where he was going, while Cindy’s eyes bounced from the five-foot-tall African masks on the far wall to the glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
“Do you have a minute to look over the script now?” she asked, tripping into the sunken living room.
Beau righted her. “My agent screens my scripts.”
Of course.“Right. It’s just, I really felt like you were the one that needed to see it because I thought you’d get it. I—” Cindy bit off her spiel. Beau wouldn’t care about all the research or the fact that having her father’s studio produce her first full-length feature was important.
They climbed a sweeping staircase to the second floor and made their way down a hall, but Cindy’s feet took root at the threshold to the master bedroom.
Beau turned to her with his signature smolder. “I’ll have a few minutes to look at it while you’re getting out of those wet clothes.”
“But I didn’t bring anything to change into.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
Cindy lifted the script and hit him in the shoulder as hard as she could. With all his muscles he probably didn’t even feel it, but it made her feel better.
He laughed easily, his eyes telling her he’d been teasing.
The rake.“Why don’t I stand out here and make sure no one bothersyouwhileyouread.”
He brushed his hand up her arm, sending warm tendrils through her tummy. “If I promise to behave, will you sit with me? Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“This isn’t about fun—it’s work.”
He slipped the envelope from her fingers, brushing her skin as he went. Cindy’s breath hitched.Rake.
“If you don’t love what you’re doing—then you’re in the wrong business.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I used to love what I do.”
“What happened?” His tone was low, inviting.
