Page 19 of A Star is Scorned

Livvy leaned against the shell of the Sea Monkey’s cabin and watched the sun creep toward the horizon.

Avalon was charming, a little town of bric-a-brac houses nestled into the side of the hill on Catalina Island.

At the edge of the bay was a large, round structure with a terra-cotta roof and a line of colonnades that made the building resemble an oversized carousel.

She recognized it from a postcard a friend had once sent her—the Catalina Casino.

The sun bathed the casino in warm oranges and soft pinks, transforming the circular building into a colorful, massive scoop of ice cream floating on top of the water.

They’d left Rex at Two Harbors, where he’d gone ashore to find the parts necessary to repair the sail.

The Sea Monkey had a backup engine in case of emergency; they just hadn’t been able to use it in the race without being disqualified.

So while Rex scrounged for new parts, Flynn had motored him and Livvy over to Avalon and they’d anchored in the harbor.

He was in the galley, scrounging up dinner, and Livvy almost jumped when he called out, “Food’s ready. ”

“Oh, but you must come see the casino! It looks so lovely in the late evening sun.”

He chuckled and came to stand beside her. “One of my favorite parts of sailing is getting to see the sunset on the water.”

She could understand why. It was beautiful, peaceful. A lot calmer than running out of a nightclub with a scorned woman hot on your heels.

He bumped his shoulder against hers. “You ever been to the casino?” he asked, nodding in the direction of Avalon’s most notable landmark.

She shook her head. “No, this is only my second time in Los Angeles, and I haven’t been here very long.”

“You have to go! They get the best bands. I’ve seen the Dorsey Brothers there three times! And Benny Goodman and his band last Christmas.”

“It sounds wonderful,” she said dreamily.

It would be a long while before she could afford the luxury of something like going to a dance at the Catalina Casino.

Not until she knew that Judy was secure, that they both could settle into their new lives in Hollywood.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone dancing.

Or done something purely for the fun of it.

“It is. I’ll have to take you some time.”

She turned to him and swallowed at the look in his eyes.

She expected to see something hungry there, wolfish even.

But instead, he was gazing at her with admiration and care.

Her stomach somersaulted at the thought of going dancing with Flynn Banks, but she hated to admit it.

The kiss she’d given him earlier twisted her in knots.

She shouldn’t have done that. It was only a peck on the cheek, but it had probably given him the wrong idea.

At least the moment had been photographed.

Harry Evets couldn’t question that she was trying her hardest to follow marching orders, and if Flynn questioned her, she could claim it had only been for the cameras. “Oh no, I couldn’t—”

He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Why? We are dating, after all.”

She blushed but held his gaze. “We’re just playing pretend,” she murmured.

He shrugged, as if to say, “Suit yourself,” and ducked back into the ship’s cabin. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

She followed him inside and smiled when she saw the table wedged in between a stack of his tackle gear, as well as a pile of shoes and shirts topped with a book on knot tying.

He’d laid a red-and-white-checked tablecloth over the small round table and lit a candle inside one of those red glass jars she always saw at Italian restaurants.

“This is…romantic.” She felt uneasy. There was no one here watching them, taking their picture. Who was this for?

Flynn bit his lip. She had never seen him look bashful before. She hadn’t thought it an emotion he was capable of feeling. “It’s nothing.”

She didn’t push him on the issue, taking it at face value as something nice he’d done for her, tidying up the space and trying to make it look presentable. Instead, she gave him a wan smile, pulled up a stool, and looked at the asparagus and fresh fish on her plate.

Flynn leaned against the galley countertop, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited for her to take a bite, staring at her like a puppy waiting for its dinner. She hardly expected Flynn to be a culinary expert. But he looked so hopeful. No matter what, she would say it was good.

But when she took a bite, she was surprised to find the fish was flavorful, the marinade of lemon and fresh spices sweeping over her tongue and its tart, acidic taste blending perfectly with the delicate breadcrumbs he’d topped it with. “This is delicious!”

A broad grin, one far more innocent than his usual roguish smile, spread across his face. “You like it?”

“It’s superb, so much better than I was expecting.” She picked up her napkin and held it to her face. “Shoot, I didn’t mean—”

He waved her off, sitting down and digging into his own plate. “It’s okay. You didn’t think I could cook, did you?”

She grimaced and wrinkled her nose. “No, not really. I thought that—”

“That I’m a consummate bachelor who has a personal chef in his employ.”

She swallowed the bite she’d just taken in a gulp, surprised by his candid response. “Well, yes, exactly.”

“I’ll admit, I rarely have time for cooking these days.

I still can’t make a decent cup of coffee.

It’s a lot of work to keep all the dames at my door happy.

And all the Scotch in Hollywood isn’t going to drink itself.

” He winked at her. There was the Flynn Banks she knew.

“But I love it. Used to escape to the kitchens as a kid every chance I got.”

She tapped her napkin to her mouth, self-conscious of crumbs that might have strayed onto her face. “Kitchens?”

Now it was his turn to grimace. “Yes, my father was a member of the British aristocracy, and I grew up on one of those dreadful crumbling estates.”

“Like a castle?” She regretted it the instant she said it. She sounded like a child, wide-eyed at the prospect of a fairy tale.

He simply chuckled. “Less castle, more haunted house.” Her heart panged at the note of bitterness in his voice.

“It wasn’t the happiest home, and when my father was in one of his moods, I would hide in the kitchens, where our cook would let me observe her work.

By the time I left for Eton, I knew how to make everything from poached eggs to croquembouche.

Used to entertain my mates at Oxford by sneaking into the kitchens and whipping them up a hot meal after a long night at the pub. I like feeling useful.”

She rubbed at a small tear in the tablecloth.

“My sister and I, we’re like that too. I’m the eldest, so I’ve always taken care of her.

” Being useful and ensuring that Judy was safe and dry and happy made Livvy feel less guilty.

“But lately, she’s been doing the cooking while I’ve been at the studio. ”

“That must be nice. To have someone to look after who also looks after you.” He said it so wistfully. Could it be possible? Was Flynn Banks lonely? The idea was laughable. And yet…something in his eyes once again gave him away.

“It is, mostly. Though she really shouldn’t need to look after me. I’m the one who’s meant to take care of her. Sometimes that’s stressful though.”

He set a glass of white wine in front of her, and she sipped it gingerly. She needed to keep her wits about her. “How so?”

“I love Judy. I’d do anything for her. But being responsible for someone means you’re always worried. Will she be safe? Will she have enough to eat? It’s hard not to feel like a mother hen.”

Flynn chuckled. “How old is your sister?”

“Eighteen, but she’ll always be a baby to me.”

“Maybe you need to let that go.”

The words sucked all the air from the room. It was true. Sometimes Livvy wanted to let go so much it hurt. But how could she?

“We’re all each other has. If I don’t take care of her, who will?”

“Ever consider that she might be able to take care of herself?”

Livvy scowled, and Flynn laughed. “All right, all right, Mother Superior. I’m sorry.” She harrumphed at his implication that she was a nun. “Just seems to me that when you let yourself enjoy life a little bit more, you know how to have a good time.”

The words were laced with a hint of something dark and suggestive.

How could he go from making fun of her to eliciting sinful thoughts so quickly?

It was dizzying—the way he could change the mood with a lift of his eyebrow or the tone of his voice.

But she didn’t want to think too hard about the way that his words made heat pool between her legs moments after he’d irked her with his mocking.

So instead of answering him, she took another bite of fish and savored it, letting the flavors wash over her tongue.

He studied her, his gaze following the movement of her fork and fixating on her mouth as she chewed and licked the crumbs from her lips.

It would be easy to be self-conscious, but part of her wanted to do it slowly, run her tongue around the edges of her mouth, if only to taunt him and put the shoe on the other foot.

She relished having his eyes on her, the way she seemed to hold him in thrall.

It made her feel powerful. Something she hadn’t felt in years.

Everything had felt too big, too hard, too impossible to ever get on top of.

“Careful, now.” He growled. “It’s not nice to tease. I’ve been known to bite.” On the last word, he clicked his teeth together, like a shark devouring its prey.

Livvy choked on the piece of fish still in her mouth.

Flynn laughed as she scrambled for a glass of water, breaking the spell between them. “Oh, you should’ve seen the look on your face!”