LITMIR.BIZ

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acting is bad acting. You can tell if someone sings off-key, can’t you?”

      “Sometimes, but my ear for music isn’t as good as yours.”

      “But you’re real, Jess. You would know when something is authentic. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”

      His faith in her was a heady thing. She couldn’t deny she was flattered. And as his personal assistant, she couldn’t really tell him she didn’t want to do it.

      “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

      “We read through some scenes. See if I can grasp the character.”

      “Where?”

      He pointed to the long beige leather sofa—the most comfortable place to sleep in Zane’s world. “Right here.” He hobbled into the room on his crutches and sank down, resting the crutches on the floor. “The script is behind you on the bookcase. If you could get it and bring it over...”

      “Sure.” She turned and found it quickly. “Wildflower?”

      “That’s the one. You know most of the story.”

      She did. She was there when Dylan explained the premise of the romantic mystery to both of them the other day. It was about a man who comes home to his family’s ranch after a long estrangement and finds his brother romantically involved with the woman he’d left behind. There’s a mystery surrounding their father’s death and a whole cast of characters who are implicated, including both brothers. “I think it’s a good story, Zane.”

      “Well, let’s see if I can do it justice.”

      “Sure.”

      She walked over to the couch and took a seat one cushion away from him.

      “I don’t think that’s going to work,” Zane said. “You have to sit next to me.” He waved the script in the air. “There’s only one of these.”

      “Right.” As she scooted closer to him, Zane’s eyes flicked over her legs and lingered for half a second. Oh, boy. The back of her neck prickled with heat. In a subtle move, she adjusted her position and lowered the shorts riding up her legs to midthigh. Zane didn’t seem to notice. He’d focused back on the script and was busy flipping through story pages.

      “Okay, here’s a scene we can do together. It’s where Josh and Bridget meet for the first time since his return.”

      She peered at the pages and read the lines silently. It was easy enough to follow. There were one or two sentences of description to set up the scene and action taking place. The rest was dialogue, and each character’s part was designated by a name printed in bold letters.

      “You start first,” he said, pointing to the top of the page. “Where Josh speaks to Bridget in front of her house.”

      “Okay, here goes.” She glanced at him and smiled.

      He didn’t smile back. He was taking this very seriously. She cleared her throat and concentrated on the lines before her. “Josh? You’re home? When did you get back? I...I didn’t know you’d come.”

      “My father is dead. You thought I wouldn’t return for his burial?”

      “No. I mean...it’s just that you’ve been gone so long.”

      “So you wrote me off?”

      A note of anger came through in Zane’s voice. It was perfect.

      “That’s not how it happened. You left me, remember? You said you couldn’t take living here anymore.”

      “I gave you a choice, Bridget. You didn’t choose me.”

      “That wasn’t a choice. You asked me to leave everything behind. My family, my friends, my job and a town I love. I don’t hate the way you do.”

      “You think I hate this place?”

      “Don’t you?”

      “Once, I loved everything about this place. Including you.”

      Jessica stared at him. The way he dropped his voice to a gravelly tone and spoke his lines was so real, so genuine, it impressed the hell out of her.

      “But you’ve moved on.” Now Zane’s voice turned cold. He had a definite knack for dialogue. “With my brother.”

      They read the next three pages, bantering back and forth, learning the characters and living them. The scene was intense, and Zane held his own. He had a lot of angst inside him and found his release using the screenwriter’s words on the page.

      The scene was almost finished. Just a few more lines to go.

      “Don’t come back here, Josh,” she said, meeting Zane’s eyes. “I don’t want to see you again.”

      Zane was really into the character now. “That’s too bad, Bridget.” The depth of his emotion had her believing. “I’m back to stay.”

      “I’m going to marry your brother.”

      “Like hell you are,” Zane said fiercely, leaning toward Jessica, his face inches from hers.

      “Don’t...Josh...don’t mess with my life again.”

      “This is where he grabs her and kisses her,” Zane whispered. His breath swept over her mouth, and she found herself wanting to be kissed. By Zane. Heat crept up her throat and burned her cheeks.

      Zane glanced at her mouth. Was he thinking the same thing? Did he want to kiss her?

      He was a man she trusted. He was a man she truly liked. “Do you want to, uh, bypass the kiss?”

      He shook his head, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “No,” he rasped. “I don’t.”

      Her pulse pounded as he took her head in his hands and caressed the sides of her overheated cheeks with his long, slender fingers. Her head was tilted slightly to the left, and then his mouth lowered to hers. He touched her lips gently, and she felt the beautiful connection from the depths of her soul. Was she supposed to stay in character? How would she accomplish that? Everything inside her was spinning like crazy.

      The script called for a brutal, crushing kiss, but this kiss was nothing like that. His lips were firm and giving and generous...pure heaven.

      “I’m not through messing with your life, Bridget.” The gravel in his voice convinced her. He did harsh perfectly. “I might never be through.”

      As Zane backed away, his gaze remained on her. He blinked a few times, as if coming to his senses, and then cleared his throat.

      The air sizzled around her. Was Zane feeling it, too? She didn’t know where to look, what to say.

      “It’s your line,” Zane whispered.

      Oh! She glanced at the page and read her last line. “I—I can’t do this again, Josh.”

      Zane paused for a second, glaring at her for a beat. “I’m not gonna give you a choice this time.”

      There. They’d made it through the entire scene. Zane flipped the script closed, and as he braced his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward.

      Her heart was zipping along. She needed space, a few inches of separation from Zane. She flopped back against the sofa and silently sighed.

      “Thank you,” Zane said quietly.

      “Hmm.”

      “Now for the hard part. I respect your opinion. No hard feelings either way, so lay it on me.”

      He’d convinced her he could act. Aside from the kiss that still had her reeling, she was completely enthralled with his character. He’d stepped into Josh’s shoes without a bit of awkwardness. “I’m no expert, but I know when something’s good. I’d say you were a natural, Zane.”

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