"You can sit over there. Someone from the crew will give you headphones, so you can listen, okay?"
I nodded, but before I could say anything else, he lowered his lips to mine in a slow, lingering kiss that showed anything but urgency. It left me branded. As he walked away, my hand drifted up to my mouth as if I were trying to make sure I was still real. I had been kissed by Declan James too many times to count. He seemed to have quite the obsession for my mouth —among other things. But that kiss? That kiss had left me awe-struck. It was earth-shattering in its simplicity, mind-numbing in its intimacy, and completely raw in its emotional depths.
Did I miss something? What had changed? Before I could take the necessary time to think through Declan's complete turnaround, I was ushered over to a set of chairs and handed large headphones.
Lights went on, and someone yelled, "Quiet on the set!" and "Action!"
Holy shit, I was on a movie set!
The reality of where I was solidified when I saw Declan dressed in his Civil War–era uniform, wandering through the graves. His eyes found mine briefly before he carried on through the foggy graveyard. Declan had told me they were filming the scene where his character came back after the war had ended, only to discover his wife and child had died. The scene they were currently filming had Declan's character, William, visiting their graves after he just heard the terrible news.
He stumbled, looking distraught and disheveled. He looked around from grave to grave with a small candlelight lamp, searching for their graves. Stopping, his eyes found what they were searching for. Falling to his knees in front of the graves, an angry cry tore through his body as he placed a hand on top of the granite slab, and then he began to sob.
I couldn't help it. Even though I knew he was acting, I felt tears trickle down my cheeks in response to the emotions he was expressing. He hadn't even delivered a line yet, and I was completely transfixed on him, mesmerized by his performance.
"I'm so sorry, Anne. I'm so sorry I wasn't here," he said.
He continued to cry and whisper to his wife until a woman entered the scene. Her real name was Sidney Monroe, and she was an amazing actress. She was around my age with chocolate brown skin and a curvy body that most women would kill for. She was cast as the head maid to the wealthy landowner played by Declan. She would also be his love interest after his wife died. That was what made the film so interesting —a wealthy man in the Civil War era falling in love with an emancipated slave in the South. It was beautiful, and I hoped to God Declan got the credit he deserved.
"Mr. Hamilton, sir..." Sidney said. "Mr. Hamilton," she said a bit louder.
Declan looked up, his eyes completely red and bloodshot from the tears he had shed.
"I'm so sorry. I tried, sir. I tried everything I could, but the sickness came so quickly..." She trailed off.
"Leave. Please. Just leave me," he said harshly.
The woman nodded and fled.
The director yelled, "Cut!"
And I was pulled out of my Declan-induced trance. I looked up in time to see Declan jogging toward the director, who was huddled in discussion with the cameraman. Declan glanced my way, giving me an expression that said he'd be with me as soon as possible. I just smiled and gave him a slight nod as he joined the small group. I watched as they looked through the film, pointing at different aspects and pausing to discuss. Both the director and lead cameraman listened to Declan as he provided his opinion and suggestions for the scenes they had moving forward. He was so passionate when he spoke and so in his element as he described his vision.
"Good job, Declan. Really, it was superb. Whatever you were thinking about and focusing on in that scene, harness it. It was the best work I've seen out of you yet," the director said.
The men ended their impromptu meeting, and Declan slowly made his way over to me, giving me time to look him up and down. Even dressed in a Civil War–era uniform, he looked sexy as hell. In fact, I was starting to think we needed to take that costume back to my place and do a little role-playing. I could do my best Scarlett O'Hara impression, and he could sweep me off my delicate Southern belle feet.
Yeah, that could work.
Declan's lips turned up into a sly smile as he closed the gap between us. He was obviously aware of the effect his presence had on me.
Pressing his body close to mine, he angled his mouth against my ear. "They've given us a bit of a break on account of my fabulous acting abilities. And the only thing I can think about right now is getting you into my trailer, out of these clothes, and burying myself deep inside you."
Well, um...yeah. I was pretty sure I could go for that.
I gave him a devilish grin, "Let's go."
~Declan~
I wanted to rip the throat out of every man on the entire set. No, first, I'd do something about their eyes, and then I'd go for the throats. Then, at least, they wouldn't be able to stare at Leah while I was killing them.
Fuckers.
As soon as she had stepped foot on set, they had all looked her over and swarmed around her like vultures. She hadn't seemed to notice, but I sure as hell had. Their eyes, full of uninhibited lust, had lingered over her ass and fixated on her br**sts —all the things that were mine, not theirs.
After the doctor yesterday and my overwhelming reaction to him, I'd gone back to my hotel and had a serious come-to-Jesus meeting with myself. What the hell was I doing? I had basically claimed her at that dinner table, and afterward, when I should have felt remorse or panic, I'd felt...good. As bad as I'd felt for the doctor and his shitty divorce, I hadn't wanted him looking at Leah or talking to her at all. She was mine, and I'd wanted to do anything and everything that night to make it perfectly clear. Those hadn't been the acts of a man who wanted a casual affair. They had been the thoughts and actions of a man who wanted more.
Figuring that out had made things a bit clearer for me. Coming to the set today and seeing the vultures descend had made it crystal clear. My sudden fierce possessiveness of Leah was more than a casual fling to me now. I wanted her, all of her. I didn't know how long this would last or how it would end up, but I was balls-in, and I hoped to God she was too.
I'd heard one of the crew members say, "Man, that is one hot piece of ass. How does Declan do it all the time?"
Then, I'd seen red. I didn't want Leah to be seen as another skank I'd picked up from a bar or club, so I had done the only thing I could think of. I'd walked up to her and claimed her —not with a sloppy bar kiss, no. I'd given her the type of kiss that a man gave the woman he wanted to keep. And I did. She'd looked downright stunned and stupefied ever since. I kind of liked her this way. It was kind of humorous.