Dirty (2 page)

"Tell me," James said.

"Says she's dedicated, focused and honest.
She's completely professional on the set and has pretty high
standards even with her personal life. She dumped her last
boyfriend for cheating on her last year. Also, Thompson hasn't
slept with her. He got very pissed when I asked. He regards her
like a daughter."

"I owe you, Harry. Thanks." He switched off
the mobile and felt his cock harden.

Nothing about Marielle Fairchild made Raven
feel fatherly. Now that he knew she wasn't involved with anyone
else he could move on her. All he had to do was get her alone. On a
busy movie set, that was going to be a real challenge.

Unless I can take her off the set.

Raven picked up his carryon bag and opened it
to take out his copy of the script. On the flight here he'd read it
from cover to cover and marked the passages scheduled to shoot
first so he could memorize them. He rarely needed to rehearse a
scene more than once to get it right but he preferred to run
through all the dialogue before shooting so he could a better
handle on his character. Jess Carter, his co-star, wouldn't be
arriving until next week. If he wanted to run on his lines, he'd
need to arrange to have someone stand-in for her.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he recalled
the scene at the top of the schedule was the first bondage scene
between the lovers. I know just who I want to tie up, too.

* * *

While Fascination wouldn't begin shooting for
another week, Marielle knew that there were a million things to do
to prepare the set for filming. She was glad she was excellent at
organization as well as multi-tasking. Vanessa Newell proved to be
very demanding and something of a perfectionist. After bouncing
several times between video village and the camera crew's equipment
pit Marielle suspected most of her time on the set would be spent
checking and rechecking innumerable details to assure the
director's instructions were carried out to the letter. Vanessa
apparently trusted no one.

When it became obvious that Vanessa wasn't
going to let anyone break for lunch Marielle called down to
Catering and had them bring sandwich platters, coffee urns and
drink coolers up to the set, where she staged them off to the side
out of the high-traffic areas. The director noticed this only when
Marielle brought a salad and fresh iced coffee to James Raven's
trailer, where Vanessa had retreated to go over some changes to the
schedule.

"People get lazy when you feed them," Vanessa
grumbled.

"But they get cranky if you don't," Marielle
said. "Now they'll love you for having their lunch delivered."

The director raised her brows. "You're going
to give me the credit for stuffing their faces?"

"You're the boss." Marielle glanced at her
clipboard and saw one item remained unchecked. "Oh, I almost
forgot, Wardrobe wants to know if they can begin fitting Raven
today."

"If the handsome beast ever shows his face."
Vanessa glanced past her as the trailer door opened. Her upper lip
curled. "Speak of the devil and he'll land on your door step. About
time, Raven."

The scent of a hidden waterfall teased
Marielle's nose. She turned around expecting to see the film star
with Dew. Instead a clean-shaven James Raven stood alone, still
wearing the black hoodie that had disguised him so well. Oh, my
god, it was him all along.

"Lovely to see you, too, Van." His
copper-brown eyes shifted to Marielle's face, and he smiled slowly
as he held out his hand and added in an Aussie accent, "Not many
people know this, but it's actually Andrew James Raven on the birth
certificate."
"I would never have guessed." She shook his hand and flinched a
little as the contact sizzled across her palm and fingers with a
burst of sensation. "Very nice to meet you again."

Vanessa frowned. "How do you two know each
other?"

"We bumped shoulders a while back," Raven
said. "Van, has the studio put me up somewhere close to the set, or
am I living in a hotel for the duration?"

The director produced a set of keys and
tossed them to him. "The producer is lending you his house in the
hills. Very secluded and quiet, just the way you like it. I'll run
you out there after we finish for the day."

"You needn't trouble yourself. I can catch a
ride with one of the crew on their way out. I'd also like to borrow
someone to run lines with me tonight." He turned to Marielle.
"Would you be available, Ms. Fairchild?"

"Yeah, I can give you a ride." She checked
her clipboard. "We have a couple of actresses on call, so I can ask
one of them if they could stop by -- "

"No need. You'll do very well on both
accounts," Raven said.

Marielle stared at him, her mind and
heartbeat racing as she imagined being alone with the handsome
actor. Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. "I'm sorry but I'm not
the one you want."

"Of course you are." His voice sounded
reassuring but his eyes were saying something very different. "It's
not difficult. All you have to do is read from the script, listen
to me do the same and tell me when I screw up." He tilted his head.
"Unless my little ruse has made you despise me?"

Despise him? She was half in love with him
already.

"Fairchild will be happy to run lines with
you," Vanessa said before Marielle could reply. "Just make sure
she's back on set by six a.m."

Marielle felt a thrill surge through her.
"When you're ready to leave, just grab me."

Raven left the trailer.

"Alright, Goldilocks," Vanessa said. "What is
going on between you and my star?"

"I just met him this morning. Honestly, at
the time I didn't even realize who he was. Maybe he wants me to
help him rehearse because I treated him like a normal person this
morning. I'm guessing he doesn't get a lot of that."

"We'll give him what he wants but I don't
like that it's you," the director said. "You keep it strictly
professional or I'll boot your ass off this film so fast your
ponytail will scorch. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Cringing a little, Marielle
picked up her clipboard. "I'll go see what Wardrobe will need to
start Mr. Raven's fittings."

What she needed was to get away from the
director and her suspicions and clear her head. As a P.A., Marielle
constantly worked with powerful and important actors but rarely
attracted any genuine attention from them. She'd grown so
accustomed to being ignored that it made James Raven's attention
seem almost too personal.

Is that really why he wants me to go home
with him? Does he think if he gets me alone I'll just fall at his
feet like a fan girl and beg him to take me to bed?

Not that it would be all that difficult for
Marielle to offer herself to Raven, she thought as she walked out
of his trailer. Without the beard hiding his face he was stunningly
handsome. His strange, beautiful eyes seemed utterly mesmerizing.
He was much bigger and more muscular than men she usually found
attractive but as petite as she was she didn't find his size
intimidating. Even in the trailer, when she hadn't known who he
was, she'd felt safe with him -- and very attracted.

But why pick me? Marielle stopped outside the
garage that Wardrobe had occupied and looked over at Raven's
trailer. And why do I like it so much that he did?

* * *

Marielle kept busy until sunset, when Vanessa
called it a day and sent the crew home.

"Be sure he knows the first bondage scene,"
the director said. "And remember what I told you."

"Yes, ma'am." She tried to sound cheerful but
after spending the day trying to deal with Vanessa's quest for
perfection in all things she was tired, unhappy and worried -- and
now she had to cope with James Raven.

Marielle went to the actor's trailer and
found him sitting on the steps, reading his copy of the script.
"Ready to head out?"

"As long as you know where this house is," he
said. "Van neglected to mention the address."

"I've got it." She glanced at her watch. "Do
you want to stop for dinner first?"

"My dear, I'm the star," he told her. "Which
means there's always a feast waiting for me. Depending on the
movie, sometimes there’s some company, too."

"Do you think they'll tidy up, too?" she
joked as she walked down to the parking lot with him. "I hate
washing dishes."

"So do I. I think that's why I like Thai food
so much. All you need is a bowl and your hands." He watched her
unlock her little compact. "This is adorable. Will I fit inside or
shall I ride on the hood?"

"If you get stuck I have a shoe horn in my
purse," she said. "Or I can just shove you in the trunk."

"The things I do for my art," he said as he
eased his bulk into the passenger seat.

It took only a few minutes to reach the
producer's house, which had been designed by an architect famous
for his Art Deco aesthetic. Marielle was stopped at the entrance to
the drive by a studio security guard smiled at Raven before opening
the gates.

"If you need anything at the house, just let
me or the guard know," Marielle said as she parked by the
glass-walled front entrance. "Also, if you want in-house security,
I'm sure Vanessa can arrange that as well."

"You mean you'll arrange it and let her take
the credit," he said as he walked with her to unlock the front
door.

"Making the director look good is my job.
That way when she pisses off everyone they'll have reasons to
forgive her." She stepped inside, switched on the lights and took a
moment to appreciate the two-story crystal chandelier hanging over
the front foyer. "Holy cow. Major sparkly."

"Most of these places are." Raven strolled
into the great room on the left, where an enormous buffet of
gourmet food sat waiting. "I hope you're hungry, Fairchild. Or you
have a thousand plastic bags, and a very large dog."

Raven kept up the friendly banter as they
dined together, which allowed most of the knot in Marielle's
stomach to dissipate. If his charm was an act, she decided while
they tidied up together, it was world-class. Paired with his wry
sense of humor and fabulous looks made James Raven practically
irresistible.

"Well, Fairchild," he said as they left the
kitchen for the living room, which had one long mirrored wall that
reflected everything. "Are you finally ready to become my sex
slave?"

"That's why they pay me the medium bucks."
The joke didn't make her feel any less nervous as she sat down on
the sofa and opened the script. Raven staring at her wasn't
helping, either. "Where do you want to start?"

"Let's warm up with Melanie's preliminary
protest on page 34." He studied her face. "You already look
worried. Why?"

"I can't act," she said. "Not even a little
bit. So be prepared for me to suck." She felt her cheeks flush. "I
mean, to read terribly."

He gave her a lazy smile. "Just feed me the
lines, Fairchild. Start at the top of the page."

Marielle looked at the script, took a deep
breath and began to read. "I don't know why you've brought me here,
Maestro. I'm a street performer. I don't belong in your world."

"Our world, darling." Raven's voice went low
and deep. His expression shifted from easy and open to dark and
brooding. "Music is our home, our country, our universe, and our
prison. We can never escape it. I brought you here to show you
that."

"How? By making me perform for you?" Marielle
read. "I can never match your expertise, no matter what I
play."

Raven's eyes darkened as they bored into
hers. "You have it wrong, Melanie. You're here for me to play."

She swallowed and shook her head. "Isn't it
enough that I already worship you? Do you have to rub my face in it
by showing me how much better you are?"

"My darling, you are the instrument." Raven
frowned and shook his head. "No, that's not it. What is it?"

"The line is 'You are the instrument, my
little slut,'" she read from the script. "Wow. He just calls her
that, right to her face?"

"Aside from being a control freak and a
genius, Maestro is a dominant," Raven said. "He recognizes
Melanie's inherent passivity."

Marielle felt confused, both by the concept
of a woman wanting a man to dominate her and Raven's evident
intimate knowledge of the subject. "So that makes her a slut?"

"A slut for him, yes." He smiled a little.
"Some experts believe we're all either dominant or submissive
personalities. That we're doomed to be unhappy until we meet our
perfect opposite -- like Melanie and Maestro."

"You've done your homework," she said.
"Vanessa will be delighted that you have such insight with the
characters."

"I doubt Vanessa is ever pleased with anyone
but herself." He glanced around the room. "This is fairly close to
the setting of the scene. Would you mind if we do some choreography
along with his monologue on the next page?"

She smothered a laugh. "I can't dance,
either, Mr. Raven."

"Raven," he corrected her. "You don't have to
dance. I need to walk through the movements I make in the scene
with you so I know where I am when I have to deliver the lines. You
have only two lines you need to remember and you don't move, so
really all you have to do is stand there."

Marielle skimmed back over the previous page.
"Right. Melanie stands in the middle of the room, and Maestro walks
around her." She checked ahead in the script for her last two lines
and then got up and moved to that position. "Is here okay?"

"Perfect." He went over to the curtain and
removed one of the satin cord tie-backs, holding it up for her to
see. "I'm going to use this on your wrists, to restrain you as
Maestro does to Melanie in the scene, alright? It will help get me
in character."

She felt a shiver of excitement race up her
spine. "Okay."