Page 36 of A Star is Scorned

He swallowed. “It’s all right. It’s been over twenty years. You remind me of her sometimes. Her name’s Violet, just like your eyes.” He gave her a weak smile. “She’s happier now, anyway.”

“Yes, she’s in a better place, I’m sure of it.” Livvy tried to reassure him, squeezing his hand.

“I suppose. If you call the Left Bank of Paris a better place.”

“Is that where she’s buried?”

Flynn’s eyes widened to saucers. “Good God, no! Did you…Oh bloody hell, you thought… I can see now how it might sound that way. No, no, she’s not dead.

” He ran a hand through his hair, making the blond locks that drove women around the world mad fall into his eyes.

He began pacing, caught up in a memory. “Dead, ha. Father wishes. Or perhaps not, since he’ll be shuffling off his mortal coil any day now.

Though God knows they won’t end up in the same place. ”

Livvy gasped at how casually Flynn mentioned the fact that his father was on his deathbed.

But Flynn didn’t seem to notice. “As soon as I was out of the house, she ran off with an opera singer. Moved to Paris with him. Has been there ever since. I was angry at first. But she’d had no choice.

She couldn’t have lived she stayed. It made my father apoplectic with rage when I told him I was moving to Hollywood to pursue a career.

‘You’ll end up just like your mother,’ he warned.

Shame he didn’t realize that was what I wanted all along.

To be happy like her. My mother knew the truth—that being ‘wicked’ is the only way to be happy.

Reputation be damned. She taught me that the only way to be content in this world is to free yourself from the yoke of a title and the damned aristocrats who all have sticks up their arses. ”

She giggled at that, and her laugh broke Flynn out of the rant he had started. “I’m sorry, got lost a bit. You don’t need to hear me mutter on about old family scandals.”

“No, I like hearing it, really.” She liked learning about who he was before he’d become Hollywood’s favorite swashbuckler. “Getting to know you… It’s nice.”

“There’s not much to know. I was born a spoiled toff, and I grew up to be a spoiled toff with a bit more self-awareness.”

“You’re selling yourself short.” A month ago, she would’ve agreed with him.

But now? The way he had been with her. With Judy.

He might have a lot of resources, and things might come easily to him.

But she would hardly call him spoiled. Confusing?

Infuriating? Roguish? Sure. But never spoiled.

“You’re the most generous man I’ve ever met.

You want everyone around you to enjoy themselves.

You’re not happy unless we’re all having a good time. ”

“I think the term for that is ‘incurable reprobate.’” He smiled a devilish grin that enhanced his words.

While he’d been pacing, he’d ended up on the other side of the room, next to his velvet armchair.

She took a step toward him, not even realizing what she was doing.

“But if you want to call it generosity, so be it. Would you like to borrow that?”

“What?” She realized then that she was still holding the first volume of Pride and Prejudice. “This? Oh no, I couldn’t. What if something happened to it? The Garden of Allah doesn’t exactly have exemplary anti-theft measures.”

He frowned at that. “I don’t like thinking about you living somewhere that’s not safe.”

She waved it off, even as her tummy flipped at the concern in his voice. “It’s fine, just not the best place for a priceless first edition.”

“Then you should come here and read it whenever you like. Or any other book. My library is open to you anytime you wish to visit. I’ll have the staff make you a key.”

She almost fainted at that. This room was full of untold treasures. More books than she could likely read in a lifetime—and he was offering her unfettered access. “Flynn, I don’t know what to say. That’s too kind.”

“It’s truly the least I can do in exchange for your pretending to be madly in love with me and saving my hide with the studio.”

She blushed and searched for a sufficient way to say thank you, hugging the precious book to her chest. She was certain he was just being nice; this room was proof that even if he did lose his job, he’d still have his family’s money.

But there was no way to express that without sounding rude.

Ironic really. She was surrounded by words but unable to come up with a single one that could convey what this meant to her.

Before her parents had died and she’d put all her energy into looking after Judy, books had been her refuge.

The stories they held. The worlds they opened.

The adventures they promised. But the public library in her small town had been meager compared to the riches here.

“Thank you,” she murmured, finding that nothing else would do. She nodded in the direction of his comfortable armchair. “I see you’re reading Treasure Island again.”

“I’ve read it twice since the night we met.” He grinned. “It helps me when I’m having trouble sleeping. Getting lost in the world of Jim and Long John Silver. It’s more effective than a nightcap lately.”

Her eyes darted to the bottle of whiskey enclosed in the globe.

He followed her line of sight and chuckled. “I didn’t say I was reading in place of a nightcap, mind you.”

She shook her head. “I’m glad that it still captures your imagination the way it used to.

” She inched toward him, again drawn by the invisible force she couldn’t name.

She was standing so close she could touch him now.

“Books have always been my salvation. When everything else goes askew, my favorite stories are there to comfort me.”

He nodded and reached for her, gently stroking a finger down the back of her hand that still clutched the book.

His touch was light as a feather, and yet it set her on fire.

“You reminded me,” he murmured, gazing at her with what looked an awful lot like adoration, “how much I love stories. And the reason why I had all these books shipped here from England in the first place. I hadn’t spent much time here the last few years.

But you made me want to read again. If only to prove to myself I wasn’t the dunderhead actor you pegged me as. ”

She scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes.

“I was such an ass that night. I was terrified when you jumped in my car. You do have a bit of a reputation, you know.” He grinned, looking positively wolfish, and she tingled in response.

“I acted that way because it was the only thing that I could think of to protect myself. After years of mooning over you on-screen, suddenly, there you were, flesh and blood in my car. I didn’t want to lose my head, so instead I tried to fool you into thinking I was a worldly creature slumming it in Hollywood. ”

“Oh, you are.” His voice was so quiet now that she knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him if she wasn’t standing so close. He gripped the book in her hands and withdrew it, gently setting it on the chair behind him without even turning around. “You’re much too good for any of us. Me in particular.”

He held both her hands now, and she was struck by how much taller he was than her. The way that the top of her head barely grazed his chin. She tilted her head up to him. “Was that why you challenged me to a duel in front of all your friends, knowing full well you would lose?”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling as he held in a laugh. “You see, you’re far too smart for me. You know you’re better than me, and you’re not afraid to tell me so.”

“It’s a defense mechanism, that’s all.” She swallowed, suddenly parched.

But she didn’t want to break this moment.

This spell. Whatever it was. He wrapped his hands around her wrists and pulled her toward him, closing the gap between them.

Through the thin suede of her costume, she could feel the muscled contours of his body.

She wished to run her fingers over every stern line and rippling inch.

To study him like one of the books in this room.

“Be that as it may, it’s irresistible.” He leaned down and ghosted the lightest kiss to her lips, pulling back a hairsbreadth to look in her eyes, searching for a signal that this was all right.

“There aren’t any photographers here,” she murmured, thinking of the kiss they had staged last week on the steps of El Cholo.

“Good,” he growled. “That means I can kiss you the way you deserve.”

She nearly swooned at that and pressed her lips fiercely to his, clinging to him to keep herself upright.

He started in surprise at her initiative before wrapping his arms tightly around her and holding her closer than she thought was possible.

He deepened the kiss, teasing at her mouth with his tongue until she opened for him.

She moaned as he tangled his tongue with hers.

In Flynn’s arms, she felt like an oasis happened upon by a man dying of thirst. It was better than anything she’d imagined as a teenager watching him at the movies.

He devoured her as if he couldn’t get enough.

She saw stars as he tugged at her bottom lip.

They broke apart, and he nuzzled at her ear with his nose, sucking on her neck.

She whimpered and pressed into his mouth, letting him suck and swirl his tongue across the sensitive spot right below her ear.

A sensation of pure liquid heat shot through her and pooled between her legs.

Was this what it felt like to want a man so desperately you would do anything?

She clung to him, and he stopped for a moment, pressing his cheek to hers. “Livvy, I don’t want this to be just a game, a charade for people who don’t know better.”