Page 39 of A Star is Scorned

“I will. But, Margaret, won’t you come with me?

Be my pirate queen. We could liberate all the people of this island.

Together.” Livvy’s eyes flashed at the word together.

He didn’t know if she was that good of an actress, or if last night was still on her mind.

He cursed himself for reading that bloody telegram.

For standing in the library and watching her go.

If he’d run after her last night, maybe he would’ve have been too preoccupied to read his father’s death notice.

“If I do that, I will as good as sign your death warrant,” she continued, in character. “My father will say you kidnapped me.”

He made a show of sighing. “You are right. I know it. But that shall not stop me from trying to convince you.”

Members of the crew behind the camera were starting to make a loud noise, as if they were carousing. Livvy’s head snapped back, looking through the archway. “Go, my darling. They cannot find you here.”

“Kiss me goodbye.” He leaned forward over the balcony, bracing himself to feel her lips against his, even if only for the benefit of the camera this time.

She placed her hands on the railing and wrapped her arms around his neck, honoring his request for a kiss.

It was meant to be chaste and brief enough to skirt the rules of the Production Code, but Livvy flung herself at him with so much force that if she hadn’t been holding onto him, he might have tumbled backwards.

She kissed him so fiercely it hurt. It was the first time in hours he’d thought of anything but his own self-pity.

He found it invigorating, and he returned the kiss with equally bruising passion.

“Cut!” bellowed Curtis from below them.

They broke apart, Livvy’s chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

She stared at Flynn, and he was desperate to know what was running through that brilliant mind.

She frowned at him, seemingly even more confused now.

Damn it. If he could just ask for a break to take her aside and explain things…

But then Livvy would have to climb down the scaffolding again, and back up it.

By then, she’d probably be so peeved she wouldn’t care what he had to say.

“Miss De Lesseps,” Curtis called up. “That was fantastic, but perhaps a little less, er, eager this time?”

Livvy nodded. “Sorry, Mr. Curtis. I, uh, wanted it to feel real. Suppose I got carried away by the scene.”

The scene. Sure. Flynn tried not to scoff. There was more than the scene simmering between them. Unless he was truly losing his mind, which was not outside the realm of possibility.

They performed the scene again, starting from the dialogue so that Flynn didn’t have to keep climbing up and down.

But when they got to the kiss, Livvy barely touched her lips to his, puckering up in an exaggerated fashion and then breaking away before he’d had the chance to do more than breathe against her mouth.

Curtis cut again. Flynn could hear the man trying to hold in a laugh. “Uh, Miss De Lesseps, you overcorrected,” he called up.

Flynn chuckled. You could say that again. He’d shared better kisses with the offerings at the fish market.

Livvy bit her lip. “Sorry, Mr. Curtis. I promise to get it this time.”

She turned to return to her place out of the camera’s line of sight, and Flynn called after her. “Livvy.”

She whirled to face him.

“It’s natural to have nerves. Let me guide the kiss this time.” He felt like an ass for saying it, but his arms were getting tired clinging to this balcony.

He expected her to argue, to tell him she knew how to do a stage kiss.

But she merely smiled and nodded. She gulped, and he realized the poor girl was nervous.

Because of him. And his bloody mixed signals.

This was the first time they’d filmed a love scene together.

And he was making it harder on her. He really was an arse sometimes.

This time, the kiss was perfect. She did as he’d suggested and let him lean in, leading the moment. He pressed his lips to hers, resisting the urge to ravish her, and wrapped his arms around her as she tilted her head slightly.

They stood there, holding the kiss, and though it wasn’t as passionate as the first, Flynn was alarmed to realize he found it arousing.

The fact that he was wearing breeches tightly tailored to his form meant that if this went on much longer, it would be rather evident to the whole crew what was happening.

God, he really was losing his touch, wasn’t he?

He’d never had an issue controlling Little Flynn on a set.

Possibly because he usually got a good enough workout in the evening.

Flynn withdrew from the clench a little, trying to quell his desire, but Livvy made a sudden jerking moment and bonked her forehead into his.

“Ow!” Flynn yelped and clapped one hand to his face, holding onto the balcony with the other.

“Cut,” yelled Curtis, frustration mounting in his voice. “That was a medium shot, so we won’t be able to cut around the injury.”

Livvy looked penitent. “I’m so sorry. Flynn changed the timing.” She looked at Flynn, knitting her fingers in the satin of her gown. “Why did you break away so suddenly? You startled me.”

He swallowed down a retort and instead gritted out, “This scene seems to be a hard one.”

She looked pointedly at his crotch at the word hard.

Had she just? No, it couldn’t be. Lord, he had a dirty mind.

He briefly wondered if they could create a mouthwash for the brain.

But no, there it was again. Livvy darted a meaningful glance at his crotch, before calling out to the director below him.

“I’ll do better this time. Wouldn’t want our performances to get stiff. ”

That had to be on purpose. She gave him a look, and once again he was startled to find his heart swelling with affection for her.

Usually only one part of him tended to swell when it came to dames.

Though he’d take his heart over the alternative at this exact moment.

At least that wouldn’t be visible. He had nothing to be ashamed of in that department, thank you very much.

But he didn’t think the censors who were trying to blackball him would take very kindly to the sight of his erect cock on the screen.

Not really the mark of a reformed scoundrel.

Livvy wrapped her arms around him and tangled her hands slightly in his hair.

He kissed her, and they stood locked in an embrace for a few seconds.

She deepened it slightly, darting her tongue across his lips, and he was ready for her.

Two could play at this game. He’d lay a kiss on her so intense that she’d be seeing stars.

See how she liked it if she was the one ruining a take.

He parted his lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth.

Satisfaction flared in him as a tiny squeak erupted from her. Message received, loud and clear.

But he’d miscalculated. Little Flynn was making his presence known again.

He tried to think of the most unerotic things he could muster. He would not cause them to flub another take. What was something decidedly unsexy? Flannel nightgowns. That was a good one.

But then an image of Livvy wearing a flannel nightie popped into his mind, and he stiffened further. Shit, shit, shit. He moved his head slightly, releasing the pressure of his mouth and lessening the beguiling sensation of her tongue sweeping across his lips.

He needed to think of something comforting, something maternal. Like his mother reading him a bedtime story. He focused on the memory and locked it in his mind.

Suddenly, without warning, his mother transformed into Livvy. She was reading to him now. And she was naked.

“No!” he cried out, breaking the kiss. He did not want to touch that Oedipal nightmare with a ten-foot pole. He realized a moment too late that he’d disrupted the take.

“Everything all right up there, Banks?” Curtis asked.

“Yes, uh, it’s fine.” He needed to come up with an excuse. “I felt myself…starting to slip off the balcony.”

Livvy looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Slipping off the balcony, huh? Maybe you should try to be less enthusiastic.” She winked at him, and he didn’t know whether to be irritated or turned on by her teasing.

“No one’s ever complained about my enthusiasm,” he growled under his breath.

Curtis interrupted their back-and-forth, calling up, “Everyone set?”

“Yes,” they both replied.

Livvy stuck her head out from her hiding place, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Think you can manage to hold on to the railing this time?”

“You worry about your blocking and I’ll worry about mine.”

This time, when they got to the kiss, it was Flynn who escalated things first. He tangled his hand in her hair and turned her head to face his so he could get a better angle on her mouth.

He sucked at her bottom lip and her eyes flashed open, flaring with want and surprise.

From this angle, no matter what Little Flynn did, the camera wouldn’t be able to see it.

He knew better than her how to hide a passionate kiss behind the limitations of the Production Code.

He nibbled at her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth until two pink circles came to her cheeks.

He knew he was pushing things with how long this was going on, so he swept his tongue into her and pressed his lips so firmly against hers that she released a guttural whimper.

He broke away, and this time she was so breathless, she could barely tell his character good night.

“Perfect, I think that was the one,” Curtis called from his post beneath them.

Livvy didn’t break eye contact with Flynn, studying him like he was a difficult puzzle she had yet to work out.

But she called down to Curtis, “Really? That wasn’t too much?

I got lost in it a bit. I could try it again and hold back a little more.

” The entire thing came out on a huff of breath, and Flynn took in the heaving rise and fall of her chest with delight.

“No, Miss De Lesseps, that’s not necessary. The angle will hide any overeagerness.”

She flushed at the director’s words, and Flynn tried to memorize the sight of her porcelain flesh turning a titillating pink as it disappeared into the neckline of her bodice.

He leaned over the railing of the balcony so that his head was right behind hers. “I don’t think you can hold back. What’s more, I don’t think you want to. And neither do I.”

Livvy’s head snapped back at the words. But he was leaning so close to her that he didn’t have time to get out of the way. The back of her head smacked him in the face, connecting with his nose.

Holy hell, that hurt. Livvy gasped. Flynn’s upper lip was suddenly warm and wet with a profusion of blood pouring out his nose.

He clapped his hands to his face, forgetting for a moment to hold on.

Livvy screamed as she grabbed onto the front of his shirt and tugged him over the balcony, saving him from falling but pulling him down on top of her.

His face collided with the ornate bodice of her gown, his blood smearing across the delicate embroidery.

The fleeting realization that his face was pressed into her chest flitted through his mind. Then she moved, sending another searing shock of pain through his face and banishing any vaguely erotic thoughts.

“Oh God, Flynn, Flynn, are you all right?” She tried to scramble backwards so he could sit up, but the result was only that his face dragged down her gown, bringing a smear of blood with it.

He looked up, still holding his hands to his nose, and watched as she pressed her hands to her bodice and drew them away in horror.

“Oh, no.” Her face turned a pale shade of green and she started to wobble. Oh Christ, she was going to—

Clunk. She hit the balcony floor, collapsing at the sight of his blood smeared all over her. He managed to roll off her, hoping that if he gave her some space, she might regain consciousness.

From below them, he heard a cry. “Rallo, no! Come back here.”

Suddenly and without warning, the little monkey sprang onto Flynn’s head, chittering and moving.

“Rallo, stop,” Flynn begged, sounding like he had a cold.

The monkey jumped off Flynn’s head, mercifully, and began gently slapping its hands against Livvy’s face, apparently trying to revive her.

“I see that you only have eyes for the lady as usual,” Flynn muttered.

Livvy’s eyes fluttered open. She noticed the monkey sitting on her chest, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she fainted once more.

Flynn sure as hell hoped they could cobble something together from the footage they had, because it was abundantly clear that filming was over for the day.