That Wild Cowboy. Lenora Worth
segments with Susie. Clint’s sister couldn’t be much younger than Victoria, but she had the spoiled Dallas socialite routine down pat. And that would make for great television. Well, great reality television anyway. She’d have to do a good job of editing, so Clint could see that the tension between Susie and him was undeniable. As long as she kept it light, however, she thought she could make it work without getting too deeply into family dynamite best left on the cutting-room floor.
And just how far are you willing to go?
This was always the dilemma for her. How long could she keep up this pace? How long could she push to get into people’s heads and lives just to keep the ratings up and the sponsors happy?
As Samuel would say, “As long as it takes, sweetheart.”
So she gritted her teeth and went back over the raw footage for today’s taping. If she liked what she saw, she’d send it electronically to Samuel with editing suggestions. Then back at the studio, they’d work through the rough cuts to create what would become the footage for the first show highlighting Clint Griffin. He’d lived up to his promise to put on a show. He’d flirted, whispered sweet nothings, had a few drinks and played a few tunes on his acoustic guitar.
Victoria had tried very hard to ignore how smoothly he moved from woman to woman. Now if she could only ignore the beating drums of her heart and how that tune had changed today each time he kissed one of those bikini-clad women.
Because Victoria knew how good that man’s kisses could be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CLINT COULDN’T SLEEP. Nothing new there. Normally when he had insomnia he’d get dressed and head into town for some nightlife. Sometimes, he’d stay out all night and sometimes he’d bring the party home.
But lately, even that temptation had gone sour. Maybe he was getting old. The things that used to get him all excited and happy now only made him tired and cranky. And bored.
Then why are you putting on this show for the entire world?
Why, indeed?
He got up and pulled on some sweatpants and threw on an old T-shirt. Maybe a nightcap.
Padding through the quiet coolness of the house, he noticed Tessa’s light was out. She deserved her sleep because she was a kind, spiritual soul. She probably slept like a baby.
Susie had long ago left the house to do her own late-night kind of thing, whatever that was. She wanted in on this new gig, but Clint couldn’t allow that. Not that he could stop her, technically, but he could stop her with a big brother clarity that would protect her and the rest of the family. His baby sister wasn’t known for being discreet.
He had a feeling that after today, however, he’d lose that battle. And how could he blame her for wanting to be noticed? She’d had a good thing going for a while there out in California. Sure she missed the spotlight.
Clint grabbed some milk and a hunk of Tessa’s sour cream pound cake and headed out to the patio, where he’d left his guitar. He liked to sit here back in the shadows late at night and stare at the heavens while he tried to come up with another perfect song. Tonight, the moon was as close to full as it could be. It hung bright and punch-faced across the lush blue-black sky. A few bold stars shined around it just to showcase the whole thing.
Beautiful.
Then he was startled by a splash and watched as two slender arms lifted out of the water and two cute feminine feet kicked into a slow, steady lap across the pool. Curious as to who could be swimming at this late hour, he waited to see.
And watched, fascinated, as Victoria walked out of the water and pushed at her long, wet hair.
Beautiful.
Clint took in her white one-piece bathing suit and her glistening skin. The suit shimmered like pearls against the darker pale of her skin. She walked toward a table and picked up a big bright towel, then started drying off. How long had she been here? Did she know he was hidden up under the covered patio?
Clint set down the napkin full of cake and lifted out of the wrought-iron chair. The slight scraping of metal against stone brought her head up.
Her eyes widened. “Clint?” She grabbed the towel again and held it to her.
“Yeah.” He walked out toward her. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I...I couldn’t sleep.”
She pushed at her damp hair. “I...I couldn’t, either. I hope you don’t mind if I took a quick swim. We have a pool at my apartment building and this helps me settle down.”
He moved closer, liking how the moon highlighted her pretty skin and wide pink mouth. “Don’t mind at all. Don’t let me stop you.”
“I’m done,” she said, already gathering her things. “I did a few laps and sat awhile—that moon.” Her head down, she added, “I just took one last lap and I really should try to get some sleep.”
“Sit with me awhile.”
She looked as surprised as he felt but nodded. “We could talk about today.”
“We could. Or we could talk about something else.”
Wrapping herself with the big striped towel, she asked, “What else is there?”
Clint could think of a lot else but he didn’t explain that to her. “I don’t know. You. Me. I don’t know much about you but you know a whole lot about me.”
“Just my job. I have to ask the intimate questions so I can understand things and get a storyboard going for the show.”
He motioned to two chairs by the shallow end of the pool. “I want to hear how you got this job.”
He was shocked that he really did want to know about her life, but he was even more caught off guard because he just wanted to sit here in the moonlight with her and enjoy looking at her.
Full-moon madness?
Or just a man tired of chasing and ready to settle down.
But he wasn’t that man quite yet, was he?
* * *
VICTORIA THOUGHT SHE should probably go back into the pretty little pool house and call it a night. She’d wondered at the wisdom of staying on-site but in the end, the crew had decided it would be easier to stay on the ranch rather than drive back and forth through heavy traffic each day. Clint had agreed and had graciously offered Victoria and some of the other crew members the use of the pool house. The pool house where she should be right now, working, instead of visiting with her new star.
But something melancholy drew her to Clint. Or maybe his open shirt drew her. Either way, it would be rude to leave now that he had asked her to sit down.
“What’s that?” she asked, her gaze hitting on what looked like food. She’d skipped supper and now her stomach growled with a vicious plea.
“Tessa’s pound cake,” he said, sliding the napkin over to her. “Did you forget to eat again?”
How did he already know that about her?
“Yes,” she admitted, comfortable with him knowing. Liking that he’d noticed. “I love pound cake.”
He chuckled. “Want something to drink?”
She nodded between bites. “Milk?”
He pushed his glass toward her. “You eat and drink and I’ll go get us more food.”
“But...”
“Hey, the cameras are off. We follow my rules now, okay?”
“Okay.” She sat and glanced around. No one in sight. Then she noticed his guitar on the other table. She’d have to play up that angle because he obviously loved to play the guitar and he had mentioned his songwriting dreams. She liked that about him.
She