Nor was she placing any demands on him. She wasn’t going to try to change him, because she was starting to fall for exactly the man he was . . . even if that man was the kind who refused to be there in the morning.

She could live with that, couldn’t she? A man who loved her more completely in the dark than any other man she’d ever known, a man who made her feel a connection so strong, it felt as though the night would go on forever, but also a man who didn’t stay beyond the first few beams of morning light. A man who could be everything she’d always wanted, never known she’d needed, if he would open himself up to the possibility of a future with someone. If he could learn to trust that being with her didn’t mean giving up everything else he cared about, the goals he worked so hard to achieve for himself and his family, that being with someone only made everything else that much better. But a man who might never be comfortable letting her in and therefore someone she could never truly know, the way her heart wanted to know him.

She wasn’t sure she had a choice. Because living without him—without his touch, without his kiss, without that secret look they shared when others were around—was just not an option anymore. She liked him . . . a lot—she might even love him—but more than that, she liked herself when she was with him. She was proud of the person she was becoming through the training and the confidence he was giving her. He made her feel more loved, cherished, and admired than anyone ever had without saying the words.

Words had always meant so much, yet in the end they’d been meaningless, empty. In the end, they’d turned harsh and critical and hurtful just as quickly as they’d warmed her heart. She was learning that the words she perfected to deliver emotional performances onscreen were often fake, hollow, and manipulative. A real connection went so far beyond words.

Tyson had said he wasn’t the right man for her and he probably believed that. Hell, maybe she should believe it too. It would no doubt save her an inevitable heartache in the end

His cool lips pressed gently against her warm shoulder and she didn’t move, didn’t turn, didn’t open her eyes until the sound of the door shutting softly told her he was gone.

She could let him leave, but she couldn’t watch him go.

Chapter 10

The number lighting up Parker’s cell phone was one she hadn’t seen in so long, she almost didn’t recognize it anymore. Since her publicist’s press statement about her latest movie venture, countless industry friends had reached out, offering their half-sincere well wishes and she’d suspected it was just a matter of time before she received this call.

She contemplated letting the call go to voice mail. After all, she really didn’t have anything to say to Brantley and she knew nothing he could possibly say would make her feel good about the movie. He was probably calling to scoff at the fact she’d accepted a role in an indie film. But, it didn’t matter. She was excited about this movie and she was happier in recent weeks than she had been in years. How often did you get a call from an ex-boyfriend when life was going well? A second later she answered.

“Hello?” she said, as though she didn’t already know the caller.

“Parker, how are you?” Brantley asked.

Her heart did the usual flutter it always had at the sound of his voice, but she forced her tone to remain steady and nonchalant. “Hi, Brantley, what a surprise to hear from you.” Going into the kitchen, she opened the freezer and removed her frozen fruit, dumping it into her blender.

She poured in the coconut milk and the flaxseed oil and got ready to hit the button if she needed to drown out anything stupid he said.

“Really? It shouldn’t be. Of course I was going to contact the lead in my new movie,” he said.

Her pulse quickened. “What?” Was that his way of offering her a role in one of his new films? Would she actually consider starring in any more of his productions? A million thoughts spiraled through her mind in that second.

“Well, of course, it’s not really my movie. I’m just directing it.”

Her hand fell away from the blender. What was he saying? She refused to assume anything but that her gut was telling her she wasn’t going to like where this was going. “What are you talking about? What movie?”

“Into the Cage.”

Sitting on a stool at the counter, she rested her head in her hand. “You took on an indie film?” She couldn’t believe this. He’d always looked down on independent filmmakers and refused to watch anything other than blockbuster hits.

“Yes. Have you read this script? It’s fantastic.”

Her jaw clenched. Yes, she knew that.

“I couldn’t just let a movie this good sit on some film festival roster unnoticed, viewed by a hundred people. This movie should be on the big screen.”

She agreed, but she hated that it meant having him involved. She didn’t like the idea of being forced to work with him again. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet. “Exactly. This movie should be on the big screen. You’re not planning to do a script rewrite or anything, are you?” It happened all the time when the big studios got involved with small projects. They always had to make things bigger and better, often destroying the purity and rawness of the film in the process.

“No, we’re not. We love its simplicity. Besides, we want to keep the filming to the original five or six weeks.”

Thank God for that at least. They weren’t changing the movie she loved so much and her time with Brantley would be kept to a minimum. Still, five or six weeks suddenly seemed a lot longer.

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know about a cast read-through next week in LA. I’ll e-mail you the schedule and I’ll get Lucy to arrange your travel.”

Lucy. Right. His personal assistant, who’d assisted him with removing his clothing on more than one occasion. She clenched her teeth. “I’m training. I’m not sure I can make it there next week.”

“Surely you can take a week off.”

“No, I can’t.” She’d been making good progress transforming her body; she couldn’t afford to take a break. Besides, she didn’t want to go to LA yet . . . leave Tyson yet. “The original timeline gave me a little less than three months to get ready for this role, and I need to stick to my schedule,” she said firmly.

He cleared his throat. “Okay. Then we will come to you.”

Since when did Brantley succumb to the whims of an actor? He must really believe in this project. Which annoyed her, because she’d believed in it first. Had she not gotten the lead role and announced the project a few weeks before, he’d never have even read the script in the first place. “You’re going to fly the rest of the cast to Vegas?”

“If that’s what you need. You are the star,” he said and she couldn’t decipher whether he was being sincere or not. Knowing him? Probably not.

Either way, it did solve the problem. “That would be better,” she said slowly.

“Great. Besides, we still need to cast several real fighters for the movie. What better place to find them?”

She immediately thought of the young woman on the plane who hadn’t gotten the part. “Actually, ask Kilroy for the casting call sheet. There is one woman here in Vegas who might be a consideration.”

“Will do. Anyway, I’ll e-mail you the details once everything is finalized . . . Oh, and Parker—it will be great to see you again.”

She sighed. “I’ll look for your e-mail.” She hung up and tossed her phone onto her counter.

Well, that sucked.

*   *   *