Free Overnight Sensation by Karen Foley Page B

then, he hadn’t set out to bring Ivy on board the project. But when he’d read the script and realized Finn had taken artistic license in portraying Helena Vanderveer as young and beautiful, he knew he wanted Ivy to have the role. He’d wanted—no, he’d needed—to know how she’d been since he’d first seen in her in that hospital room.

    Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ivy James in the flesh. She had completely blown him away. As soon as he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known his attraction to her was more than just physical. Something in her eyes called to him. He’d never considered himself a romantic. He was a realist. He’d had absolutely no belief in love at first sight.

    Until he had seen Ivy James.

    Images of her swam behind his closed eyes. Slim. Pale.

    Naked.

    He groaned and took a hefty swig of his beer. Not following her into her room the night she’d kissed him had required every ounce of self-restraint he had. Even now, he could feel the softness of her lips, the heat in her skin that the pool water hadn’t managed to chill. She’d warmed up fast once he’d started kissing her back. He’d wanted to devour her.

    The way he’d devoured her with his eyes during today’s shoot. He’d watched, mesmerized, as she’d shyly removed her clothing for the first love scene. He hadn’t been the only one on that set who’d sucked in his breath when her blouse had drifted to the dirt floor. Just about every guy in the room, excluding Finn, had let out a sigh of appreciation. She’d been luminous, and Garrett thought he’d never seen anything as erotic as her slender back, curving into the gentle swell of her hips. Her breasts were lush, with rosy nipples that practically begged to be touched.

    He honestly didn’t understand how the camera and lighting guys managed to concentrate on their jobs when such scenes unfolded in front of them. He’d had to swallow the hard knot of jealousy that had formed in his throat when she’d slid beneath the sheet to join Eric on the narrow bed.

    He took another swig of beer, recalling the moment Eric’s hand had closed over Ivy’s breast. He’d been halfway across the set before one of the assistant directors had caught his arm to hold him back. He’d regained his self-control—but barely.

    When he’d told Finn he wanted Ivy James to play the part of Helena, he’d known that some scenes would require her to get up close and personal with Eric Terrell. He just hadn’t thought his own reaction would be so visceral. He’d wanted to annihilate the actor, drag him out of the bed and pummel his perfect, smug face until it was nothing but a bloody mess.

    Disgusted with himself and how close he’d come to losing control, he drained the rest of the beer in one long swallow, then curled an arm behind his head and looked toward the hacienda. From his vantage point on the hammock, he could see the window of Ivy’s room on the second floor. He’d chosen the room for her because of its location. Not only did it have a nice view of the mountains, but it also faced his cottage. Her lights had been out for about ten minutes.

    He was idly conjuring up sultry images of her silken limbs entwined with the bedclothes—entwined aroundhim—when a twig snapped somewhere in the darkness. It wasn’t much of a sound, but his senses went on alert. He continued to gently push the hammock with one foot, while his eyes sought the shadows just beyond the perimeter of the cottage.

    He stopped breathing.

    He watched, intrigued, as Ivy James materialized from the gloom and crept toward the screened door of thecasita. The hammock was a good twenty feet from the cabin, strung between two lush breadnut trees. In the unrelenting darkness, she didn’t see him. She raised a hand to knock on the door, then hesitated, apparently having second thoughts. Her hand fisted, then fell to her side. She was going to leave.

    Garrett cleared his throat.

    “Oh!” Startled,