Free The Midnight Rose by Lucinda Riley

caught sight of her, he paused on the stairs, a look of shock on his face.
    “My God,” he breathed.
    “What is it?”
    Anthony didn’t reply, he just continued to stare at her.
    “We’d better go, Miss Bradley,” urged the runner.
    “Good-bye,” Rebecca said uncomfortably to the stationary figure on the stairs, and then followed the runner out of the entrance hall.
    James was waiting inside the drawing room as the crew set up camera positions on the terrace.
    “Love the hair, darling,” he said with a broad smile, “and is that you under all that makeup?”
    “Somewhere, yes,” she quipped back, as they were called on to the set.
    “Well, as I’m sure everyone has told you, you look simply ravishing. But personally, I prefer you naked . . . I mean your face, of course,” James whispered cheekily as he offered her his hand and they stepped outside.
    Robert Hope, the director, came over and put an approving arm around her shoulders. “You look perfect, Rebecca. Ready?”
    “As I’ll ever be,” she breathed nervously.
    “You’re going to be wonderful, I promise you,” he reassured her. “Now, you two, let’s take a run through from the top of the scene.”
    Two hours later, Rebecca stepped back inside the drawing room with James. She flopped into a chair, exhausted from the tension. “Boy, am I glad that’s over.”
    “You were great, really,” James commented as he lit up a cigarette by the open door and smiled at her. “Your accent was perfection.”
    “Thank you,” Rebecca said appreciatively. “You really helped me feel comfortable.”
    “I think we make a good team, don’t we? And I really enjoyed that kiss,” he added with a wink.
    Rebecca reddened and stood up. “I’m going in search of a cool drink. See you later.” She left the room before he could follow her, not wanting to give him any encouragement that their on-screen relationship had any chance of developing off it. She’d seen that look in a number of her costars’ eyes before. James was a lovely guy, but she needed him as a friend, not a lover.
    “Rebecca.” Steve caught her as she made her way to the location catering van. “The production office has just had an irate call from your agent, saying that your fiancé has been in touch with him. They both want to know where you are. Can you contact them?”
    “I did leave them both a message to tell them I was fine,” Rebecca countered. “But I have no cell service here.”
    “I know. It’s causing a real problem for everyone, so we’ve asked Lord Astbury if we can use his landline. We’re picking up the bill, of course, so by all means, go and use it. We don’t want any scare stories in the press about how you’ve been kidnapped, do we?” he added, and walked swiftly away.
    Sighing, Rebecca began to mount the stairs to her room to retrieve her cell phone for the numbers.
    “Rebecca?”
    She turned around and looked below her. Lord Anthony was standing in the entrance hall.
    “Hello,” she said uncertainly. Again, he was staring at her, and she felt distinctly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze.
    “Have you got a few minutes?” he asked. “I want to show you something.”
    “Of course,” she answered. She could hardly say no.
    Anthony reached out his hand, signaling that she should make her way back down the stairs toward him. He smiled at her as she arrived next to him, his eyes never leaving her face. “Follow me.” He led heralong the corridor that accessed the formal rooms overlooking the garden at the back of the house. Stopping outside one of them, he turned to her. “Prepare yourself for a surprise.”
    “Okay,” Rebecca replied as he opened the door and they entered a spacious library. Pulling her into the center of the room, Anthony put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face the fireplace.
    “Look at the painting above it.”
    Rebecca found herself staring at a portrait of a young, blonde woman, dressed similarly to