Irresistible Attraction: Scenes of Passion / Midnight Seduction / Beyond Control. Justine Davis

planted himself. “No way.”

      “Yes way. That man is a creep.” She was seriously angry.

      “He’s a good director, though. Wait and see.”

      Now she was angry with him. “You’re only doing this for me, aren’t you?”

      Yes. And he’d do far more for her, too, if she’d only let him. “Nope,” Matt told her. “I’m doing it for myself.”

      Maggie didn’t buy it. “Matthew, you’ve had enough crap dumped on you from your father—with the will and everything. You don’t need to deal with this, too.”

      “Hey!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her gently. “It’s okay. Really. It’s just my lurid past catching up with me. It happens. I don’t mind drug testing—”

      “Liar.”

      Matt laughed at the look of intense indignation on her face. God, she was wonderful.

      “Well, okay,” he admitted. “It sucks. But life’s not always fair, and it’s no big deal.” She started to react, and he put one finger on her lips. “Really. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few years, it’s to know the difference between big problems and little problems. And Dan Fowler is definitely a little problem.”

      The woman with the clipboard and the cat glasses poked her head out of the door. “Stone and Stanton?” she said. “He’s looking for you. On stage, to read.”

      “I want to do this,” Matt said, looking into Maggie’s eyes. “Let’s do this, okay?”

      Maggie nodded, letting him drag her back into the auditorium. He took the bag from her shoulder, put it onto a seat and pushed her up the stairs to the stage.

      “Take a few minutes to read it over,” Fowler called out from his throne behind the bright lights, a benevolent monarch lazily granting the peasants some crumbs from his table.

      Maggie quickly skimmed the scene. And oh, God. She could feel herself start to blush. Of course. It had to be this scene. She glanced up to meet Matt’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her, then looked back at his script.

      Oh, God.

      “Whenever you’re ready, boys and girls,” Fowler’s indolent voice commanded.

      “I read the entire play last week,” Maggie quickly told Matt. “This scene is part of a fantasy that my character is having. She’s just imagining that you’re there in her bedroom, okay?”

      “Got it,” Matt said. He looked out toward the director. “We’re ready, Dan.”

      “Quiet,” Fowler roared, and suddenly the room was still.

      Sieg heil. Maggie couldn’t believe they were still here, auditioning for this tyrant. But then Matt read his first line, and she thought of nothing but the script.

      “Lucy, are you still awake?” he read.

      “Go away,” Maggie read, with weariness and annoyance in her voice.

      “Hey,” Matt read, throwing up his free hand. “I don’t really want to be here. I’m just part of your overactive imagination. You want me to leave, you have to imagine me gone.”

      “All right. I will.” As the script directed, she squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating for a moment. When she opened her eyes, he was still standing there, of course. “Oh, damn,” Maggie read.

      “Cody Brown, at your service,” Matt read.

      “What kind of name is Cody, anyway? It’s a ridiculous name for a man born in Manhattan. You sound like a cowboy or a rodeo rider. What were your parents thinking?”

      “Aha,” Matt read. “So that’s why I’m here. You want to insult both me and my parents. Well, go for it, Luce.”

      “I’m much too tired to be properly insulting,” Maggie sulked.

      “Why else would you have imagined me here in your bedroom at one o’clock in the morning?”

      Maggie looked up at Matt, her alarm not entirely feigned. He smiled, a smile that started very small and grew across his handsome face. “I know why I’m here,” he said as he advanced across the stage toward her.

      Maggie stared at him, frozen in place. Was he really going to…? “No…”

      “You’re wondering what it would be like to kiss me,” he read, moving closer to her. “Aren’t you?”

      “No!”

      As Maggie stared up at him, he came closer, until they were less than an inch apart. But he still wasn’t touching her.

      Matt had the next line, but he waited a moment before reading it. The look in his eyes was remarkable as he gazed down at her, the perfect mix of nervousness and desire on his face. Oh, he was such a good actor. “You’re wondering what it would be like if I put my arms around you, like this,” he read, then tossed the script onto the floor as he did just that.

      “And you’re wondering what it would be like to put your arms up around my neck.” Matt was going on memory now, but the lines were easy from here on in.

      Maggie let her own script slide to the floor as she, as if almost in a trance, put the palms of both hands on Matt’s chest and slowly slid them upwards. She felt him inhale, as if he found her touch exciting. It was a nice addition to what was already fabulous acting.

      Her hands met behind Matt’s neck and she could feel his long, soft hair against her bare arms. She was Lucy. And this was make-believe. They were acting. Acting.

      “And you’re wondering what it would feel like,” Matt said slowly, “if you brought your lips up, like this—” and he gently pulled her chin up, then tenderly pushed the hair back from her face “—and if I brought my lips down, like this…”

      Maggie was expecting a gentle kiss, but the moment his mouth found hers, something exploded. She felt his arms tighten around hers as he kissed her, and she kissed him, as she opened her mouth to him and…

      Oh, God. She was lost.

      But just as suddenly as that kiss began, it ended. Matt pushed her away from him and took several large steps to the other side of the stage.

      “Well, forget it,” Matt said, his voice perfectly hoarse with emotion as he turned to look at her. “Because I’m not going to kiss you.”

      They stared at each other, both breathing hard.

      “Very nice,” Dan Fowler’s voice cut in. “Stick around for the dance audition.”

      Maggie’s hands were shaking as she bent down to pick up her script. Matt took it from her.

      “You okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

      “Sure,” she lied, looking up at the man who seemed intent on turning her world inside out. “I’m… just fine.”

      Five

      Maggie dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom. The dance audition had been grueling. A sane person would take a hot shower and curl up in bed with a good book. But somehow she’d let Matt talk her into having dinner with him, as they’d planned the day before.

      “Nothing fancy,” he’d insisted, with that little smile that could turn her to jelly.

      Did he know? Could he tell that she’d finally succumbed to Matthew Fever? That’s what Angie had scornfully called it back in high school when one after another pretty young girl had fallen prey to Matt’s charms and followed him around adoringly,