Twice the Temptation. Cara Summers
his flute to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
2
WHY WAS REESE BRIGHTMAN at Haworth House?
Mac Davies circled around the side of the hotel and headed down one of the garden paths. According to her agent, she was supposed to be in L.A. working on the cookbook they would launch with her new cable TV show. That was why he’d thought it safe for him to check out the place she called home.
In spite of the fact that he’d sold thirteen episodes of her show, he wasn’t completely satisfied with the product yet. It was still missing something. So he’d flown across a continent hoping that Haworth House would provide the answer. It had.
The instant he’d seen the gray tower rising into a cloudless blue sky, he’d felt it—that special feeling he always got when something just clicked. And the moment he’d entered the lobby of the hotel, he’d experienced it again.
Finally. Using Haworth House as the setting for Reese Cooks for Friends would provide that special element, that difference, that had built the reputation of Mac Davies Productions. And it should also bring Reese’s show the kind of megaratings that the cable network had hired him to provide.
But reaching that moment where everything “clicked” had been a challenge. It usually didn’t take him three tries to nail a concept. And he’d never flown cross country to personally check out a location.
The problem was Reese. She’d affected him on a deeply personal level from the first moment he’d set eyes on her. So he’d avoided dealing with it. And her.
Reaching a gazebo, he climbed the steps and then looked back at the hotel. He’d never intended for their paths to cross. In the six months he’d spent working on the development of her television show, he’d made sure that they’d never met face-to-face. He’d turned down her request for a personal meeting after he’d changed the concept of the show for the third time. Hadn’t she interfered with his concentration enough?
Now they had met. Up close and personal. When the staff member assigned to the lobby door had pulled it open, she’d barreled right into him, and in that brief moment of contact, his mind had emptied and filled with her. Every soft curve and angle of that body had branded his.
The reality of the contact had surpassed whatever he’d conjured up in the fantasies he’d been having about Reese Brightman for the past several months. And he’d had quite a few.
Mac let his mind drift back to the first time he’d ever seen Reese. She’d been giving an interview for her first cookbook on a talk show he’d produced. The instant her image had flashed on the screen, the stir of desire he’d felt had been both intense and raw. He’d felt a connection with her that bordered on recognition.
But he’d never met her before. That much he was certain of. Intrigued, he’d moved closer to the TV and spent a few moments trying to analyze his response to her. She wasn’t beautiful. Attractive, yes, with delicate features and a long, lean body. But she definitely wasn’t his type. She wore her dark hair short, and he preferred blondes with long hair. The eyes were certainly unusual—large and slanted at the corners like a cat’s eyes. Or a witch’s?
She’d definitely cast a spell on him. When the camera had moved in for a close up, she’d smiled, and he’d simply stopped breathing.
Just for an instant. But it was in that same instant he’d gotten that feeling, that tingling along his nerve endings that Reese Brightman was his next project. He was going to make her a star on the small screen.
He’d nearly convinced himself that his reaction to her was completely professional when a commercial had flashed onto the screen. Suddenly, she was gone, and the sharp sense of loss he’d felt wasn’t professional at all.
Reese Brightman pulled at him in a way no other woman ever had. Instinct told him that she might have the power to pull him all the way in. And that definitely wasn’t in the cards for Mac Davies. He’d learned his lesson at an early age. Getting too emotionally attached to anyone led to rejection and loss. So he’d kept his distance.
And he’d been right to do that. A few moments ago, when he’d taken her wrists to pull her up from the floor, he’d lost all track of his surroundings. And he hadn’t wanted to let her go. If she hadn’t snapped him out of his trance, he might not have.
Leaning against the railing of the gazebo, Mac took out his cell phone and punched in the private number of Reese Brightman’s agent.
“Madelyn, it’s Mac Davies.”
“Tell me you love Haworth House,” she said. Madelyn Willard had been in the business for over twenty years and had a reputation for being smart and tough, but reasonable.
“Well?” Madelyn said. “Don’t keep me in suspense. I haven’t said a word to Reese about your idea to use Haworth House as a setting for her show because I thought you might change your mind again. Who knows? You might get a yen and switch to the Caribbean, or perhaps the Himalayas.”
Suppressing a grin, Mac kept his tone serious. “I hadn’t thought of Tibet …”
“And don’t you dare start now. I was joking.”
“Me, too.”
“Good. But I know who I’m dealing with. And for you, filming in Tibet could be in the possibility box.”
She was right. In the three years that he’d been producing his own projects, he’d gained a reputation for good instincts and taking risks. So far both had paid off. Variety had recently referred to him as a magnet for both ratings and Emmy nominations. The network that had bought Reese’s show wanted both. With Haworth House as part of the package, “Reese Cooks for Friends” should deliver them.
When Mac realized that he’d turned back to face the hotel, he ruthlessly dragged his thoughts back to the problem at hand. “Tibet’s off the list for now. I called to find out what Reese is doing here at Haworth House.”
“She’s there?”
“I saw her in the lobby not ten minutes ago.” In the flesh, Mac thought.
“She hasn’t informed me of any travel plans. Last I heard, she intended to hole up in her apartment and work on that cookbook that you want to launch with the start of her show. However, I’m not her mother or even her fairy godmother. You’ve definitely settled on Haworth House, right? You’ll use it for the series?”
Right back to business. It was one of the things he admired about Madelyn. “Yes. The hotel will serve as the perfect backdrop for the show.” He’d already pictured some of the scenes, Reese serving friends in one of the private dining rooms, a picnic on the beach, an alfresco dinner in the very gazebo he was standing in right now.
“Hallelujah! Picture me doing a happy dance.”
“Once you get her approval and we do the paperwork, I can get a production crew here to start filming background shots.” And he could do all of that from L.A. The director could scout out other locations easily enough. He didn’t have to micromanage everything. He could catch the next ferry to the mainland and be on his way.
That was the smart thing to do. The safe thing. And Mac had always chosen the safe path when it came to women. Being orphaned at four and separated from his brothers and sister had taught Mac to be cautious when it came to personal relationships. You could lose everything in a heartbeat. His experiences in his adoptive home had reinforced that lesson early on. His new parents, an actor and actress, had always put their careers first. As a result, his relationship with them had never been close. He’d always been an outsider, looking in at their lives.
On the whole, though, Mac couldn’t complain. They’d provided him with nannies, an excellent college education at NYU and access to an incredible professional network that had allowed him to advance quite quickly in a career he loved. A career in which he thrived on taking risks. But before seeing Reese, he’d