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One-Night Baby. Susan StephensЧитать онлайн книгу.

One-Night Baby - Susan  Stephens


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back. At six years old that made quite an impression on you. Women were all the same in his experience, which was why he had never married. They all bailed out when they discovered his personal bank was closed to them. But this one was an enigma. She hadn’t put all the goods on display with a price tag on her bosom like the rest. Rather the opposite. She had made no effort whatever to remind him of the time they’d spent together five years ago, which, perversely, he found insulting. It challenged something deep inside him that suggested she should make more effort when he was around.

      Santino felt a mounting sense of possession as Kate stared back at him. After the night they’d had how long did she think she could hang onto the role of buttoned-up spinster? Her ringless hands hadn’t escaped his gaze…

      Which was all too much distraction when there was work to be done. Of his director there was no sign, which didn’t concern him unduly since that useless piece of excess baggage was about to be fired. But he would handle one problem at a time. His attention switched back to Kate and he couldn’t have been more surprised when she seized the initiative.

      ‘I think you’ll find everyone is happy with the arrangements I have made,’ she told him confidently.

      And then she stared at him, waiting for his endorsement of her actions as if she already worked for him, clearly unaware that she was treading on hot cinders around the lip of a volcano.

      ‘It has been agreed that for the next couple of days, or until the new director arrives,’ she went on, ‘actors will use the time to work on the script while the crew takes this opportunity to hone the technical side of things—’

      He was tempted to ask what the hell business it was of hers. ‘Really?’ There was a heavy edge of sarcasm in his voice, but she either missed it, or chose to ignore it, and she didn’t break eye contact with him once. Plus she was speaking to him in the same considered tone she used for everyone else, which grated on him, which made him impatient to exert his authority over her. He only held back because a purposeful air had crept over the set, and right now she had him between a rock and a hard place.

      As he stared into those cool grey eyes he guessed she knew where she had him, but that didn’t mean he had to make things easy for her. ‘Don’t you think you should at least introduce yourself, Ms…?’He felt a rush of satisfaction seeing her glance flicker for the first time. The fact that he had affected not to know her, or to remember their night together, had dealt a blow to her pride even she found hard to hide.

      ‘I am Cordelia’s cousin, as well as her new manager.’ She had recovered and was using a brisk voice. ‘Ms Mulhoon appointed me shortly before you arrived—’

      She broke off at Cordelia’s approach, and as he turned to his leading lady for confirmation he was surprised to see tension colour Cordelia Mulhoon’s customarily sunny features.

      There was something here he wasn’t getting. But he would. And then Cordelia gave a small nod to confirm what their visitor had said was true.

      Interestingly, as he dipped his head to acknowledge Cordelia’s response he noticed that his leading lady was carefully avoiding his gaze.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘WELL, Ms Mulhoon’s new manager…’ Santino switched his attention back to Kate ‘…we’d better take ourselves somewhere private where we won’t be interrupted—’

      ‘We’re not disturbing anyone here.’ She held her ground and his gaze.

      ‘Don’t my cast have plotting and rehearsals scheduled? They should stick to them.’ His voice was uncompromising.

      ‘Are you suggesting the actors should work on the set without a director?’ she asked him pleasantly, but with an edge of steel. ‘Their moves might be changed, and they could become confused. My suggestion is that everyone works on their script quietly for now—’

      Somehow he managed to control himself. ‘And mine is that they take the afternoon off.’ Walking away from her, he said in a louder voice, ‘Gather round, everyone. I know you’ll all be pleased to hear that I’ve appointed a new director. Diane Fox will start work tomorrow—’He had to break off as a buzz of anticipation swept the set. There wasn’t anyone who hadn’t heard of the award-winning director he had brought in to replace the waste of space, no good junkie currently sleeping off his latest hit of the white powder in his trailer. ‘Take the rest of the day off and relax while you can. See you on the lot tomorrow at five a.m…’

      He glanced at Kate. ‘If that’s all right with you?’

      His gaze might have been ironic, but hers was a little evasive, he thought. And what was with the no-make-up look? Was there some point in scraping back such glorious hair into an unforgiving pony-tail? The last time they’d been together her hair had flowed free and had felt silky beneath his hands…

      He wanted her. He felt it like a heat running through him. She had been a revelation the first time around; to see her melt now would be sensational. And a thought was growing in his mind that maybe she could be useful to him…

      The film industry didn’t respond to the usual rules of logic, which frustrated him. He had been in love with films since he was a boy when they had been the only magic in his life, but it was the finished article that enchanted him. He had no patience for the mechanics of film-making and even less for the people involved in it. This woman had proved she could handle the heat. And she intrigued him. He wanted her close; he wanted to know more about her and what had happened in the five missing years. A business meeting over dinner would give her the chance to answer some of the questions pounding his mind, and would give him the opportunity to propose she come and work for him at his film studios in Rome.

      

      If Santino wanted to give the cast the rest of the day off that was up to him. Kate refused to be fazed by his hard-eyed challenge. As she’d said to Caddy, she didn’t have the final word on his set, and for obvious reasons she was keen to get away once Caddy’s mind was put at rest.

      When Santino had asked for her name she had wondered if he was trying to humiliate her on purpose. But like the worst type of arrogant male Santino gave nothing away. Had he not been a world-class industrialist he would have made an excellent poker player. One thing was sure, the night that had made such a huge impact on her life meant nothing to him.

      ‘You do have a name?’ Santino prompted, breaking into Kate’s thoughts.

      His lips curved in the hint of a smile, but his gaze was hard. Kate felt as if ‘humiliation’ must be branded on her forehead, hearing him coolly repeat the question a second time. Would he remember her name if she thrust her visitor’s badge in his face? Had she even given him her name five years ago?

      Her face flamed red. There had been no time to exchange names on that occasion; polite introductions had been the last thing on their minds. She had only learned who Santino Rossi was later from the newspaper, by which time he had left England for Rome, having judged Westbury an unsuitable setting for his film.

      Kate refocused seeing Caddy hurrying across the set. She had sensed the stand-off and was rushing to her rescue, Kate realised fondly.

      ‘Is it all right if I take Kate away now?’ Caddy turned her most beseeching look on Santino.

      ‘Kate,’ Santino repeated softly, the corner of his mouth tugging up with faint amusement. ‘Would that be wild Kate? Or conformable Kate?’

      The Shakespearean reference made Kate’s cheeks fire up. So he did remember her. Santino remembered every moment of their night together and now he was taunting her with it. ‘Kate Mulhoon,’ she said briskly, holding out her hand for a formal handshake.

      Santino ignored the gesture and the humour died in his eyes. ‘We’ll discuss arrangements for your client over dinner tonight, Ms Mulhoon.’

      ‘Dinner?’ Kate’s breath caught in her throat. A cosy nighttime meeting was the last thing she wanted.

      ‘Time is short. You


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