Free Bound to Love by Emma Lyn Wild Page B

I’m dead, and I won’t be able to get anything else.”
    “Other actors have been through this,” I said. “They got over it.”
    He smiled wryly. “A lot went through it and never came back, or ended up as character actors. I don’t want that.”
    “Then what will you do?”
    He had enough money. For the first time I realized what it might be like to have all the money you’d ever need, but nothing to do. A life to waste. Six months ago I’d have said that sounded like heaven, but since I met Troy, I wasn’t so sure any more.
    He shrugged, but kept watching me. His eyes were so sad I’d have done anything to make him feel better. He played superheroes and tough guys, so that look wasn’t something I’d seen very often. He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “You make it better,” he said.
    That meant so much to me. I was a sucker, or something, because my heart went right out to him. “I mean it about talking,” I said. I had to stay strong, and his explanation had to be good, otherwise I was walking out of his life. It would break my heart, but I’d do it.
    “I know.”
    We arrived at his apartment. He thanked the driver, tipped him and then took me inside. Nobody was waiting. It was a discreet building on the Upper East Side, a few blocks from the museum where I worked. At least the fans hadn’t discovered this place. Normally Troy could move around New York with minimum fuss. He didn’t employ a regular bodyguard. But tonight he was on show, doing his public persona thing, and it had opened my eyes to his other world.
    Of course I knew who he was and the frenzy he could whip up, but I hadn’t seen it or experienced it.
    We went up in the elevator in silence, but he didn’t let go my hand. He led me through his apartment to the big blue sofa and sat me down before he let me go. “Do you need anything?” he said, going toward the kitchen area.
    I started to shake my head, but changed my mind. “Do you have any wine?”
    “Sure I do.” He got a familiar looking bottle out of the cooler, and I smiled. Oh yes, my lover had a cooler that kept wine at its optimum temperature, as well as a refrigerator and a freezer. I hadn’t even realized there was such a thing. Several bottles of champagne sat in the cooler, too. We wouldn’t be opening those tonight.
    He brought over two glasses of the rich, ruby liquid. I preferred red wine, but I hadn’t drunk my favorite for a while. Not that I was a connoisseur, but this was the only wine I’d ever drunk that I really liked. And he’d remembered. Despite my being pissed with him, that gesture touched me.
    I took it with thanks and took a sip before turning back to him. “Well?” I asked.
    Plucking my wine from my hands, he put it and his on the glass coffee table, then moved to take me in his arms. I leaned my head on his shoulder and met his lips, opening for a deep kiss that made me want to forget everything and just go to bed with him.
    I was finding it hard to remember. I planted my hands against his chest and pushed. He lifted his head. “What was that for?”
    “Because you might not want me to kiss you again after I’ve told you what I have to.” Releasing me, he moved away until he wasn’t touching me at all. I wanted him back, but he was right. We needed to talk without distraction.
    “Cassie, I sucked tonight in the play,” he began.
    I couldn’t deny it, not entirely. “You remembered your lines.”
    He laughed harshly. “Yeah, I can do that. It’s a trick, that’s all. I can just do it. But those lines just sat there tonight. Sonia Riley walked all over me.”
    “Did she scare you?” He was right, his costar was brilliant. Sonia Riley was a British actress who could do most things. She was beautiful, talented and about ten years older than Troy. As Cleopatra, she’d been brilliant.
    “No. She’s been trying to help. She did that tonight, if you can believe it. When she realized I wasn’t getting it, she stepped up her