Star of His Heart. Brenda Jackson
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for one that would work with his complexion and skin type. It was August, and although the air conditioner on the set would be on full blast, all the lighting being used would generate heat. She needed to prevent any facial shiny spots from showing up on camera.
He shifted in his seat and she glanced over at him. “This is the first day on the job of what I see as my big break,” he said, straightening in the chair. “This is what I’ve worked my ass off for since the day I decided acting was what I wanted to do. I’ve done small parts in theater and guest spots on a couple of shows and was even an extra on Avatar, but being here, getting this opportunity, is a dream come true.”
She nodded, knowing just how he felt. She had wanted to step out on her own without any help from her family’s name. She had submitted her résumé to Glenn Productions and had gotten called in for an interview with both Frasier and John. Although Frasier had been a friend of her father’s, and both men were well acquainted with Sofia since she was Uncle Jacob’s partner in the family business, Rachel was convinced she had been given the job on her own merits and hadn’t been given any preferential treatment.
This was her second season on the show and she worked doubly hard to make sure Frasier and John never regretted their decision to give her a chance. So, yes, she knew all about dreams coming true.
The first thing she thought as she applied a light brush to Ethan’s face was that he had flawless skin with a healthy glow. He had perfect bone structure and his lips were shapely and full. She bent toward him to gently brush his brows and was glad he had closed his eyes since crazy things were going on in the pit of her stomach. A tightness was there that had never been there before. She drew in a deep breath to relieve the pressure. His aftershave smelled good. Almost too good for her peace of mind.
“So tell me, Rachel, what’s your dream?”
She smiled. “What makes you think I have one?”
“All women do.”
She chuckled. “Sounds like you think you know us pretty well.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I would think everyone has at least one dream they would love to see come true.”
“I agree, and this is mine—being a makeup artist and wardrobe designer.”
“You’re good at it. Very professional.”
He opened his eyes to meet hers and she was aroused in a way that just wasn’t acceptable, especially for a woman who made it her motto never to mix business with pleasure.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a step back and reaching over to grab a hand mirror to give to him. “You didn’t need much. I don’t believe in being heavy-handed with makeup.”
“I can appreciate that.”
She had made up enough men in her day to know if they had a choice they would gladly skip this part in preparing for their scene. “Now for that tattoo. I have just the thing to blend in with your skin tone that won’t rub off. And later you can wash it off.”
“Okay.”
He held out his arm and she began applying the cream. Against her fingertips, his skin felt warm, slowly sending her body into meltdown. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to glance up and look at him for fear that he would know what touching him was doing to her. Instead she tried concentrating on what she was doing. This time, though, she was too distracted by other things, such as the feel of his strong veins beneath her fingers and the rapid beat of his pulse. Her body responded with a raging flood of desire that seeped into her bones.
Not being able to resist temptation any longer, she looked over at him. For a long, achingly seductive moment, they stared at each other. She wanted to look away but it was as if he controlled the movement of her neck and it refused to budge. She swallowed the panic she felt lodged in her throat as she slowly released his hand. So much for being a firm believer in the separation of business and pleasure. For a moment, no matter how brief, thoughts had filled her mind about how it would be to take her hand and rub it down his chest and then move her hand even lower to—
There was a quick knock at the door before it opened and Paige walked in. And for the first time ever, Rachel was glad to see the woman.
Chapter Three
“If he’s as hot as you say he is, then maybe you should let him know you might be interested, Rachel.”
Rachel wiped paint from her hands as she glared at the phone. If her best friend since elementary school wasn’t there in person to see her frown, transmitting it through the speakerphone was the next best thing. “I’m not interested.”
And because she knew Charlene would belabor the point, she went on the defensive and said, “Look, Cha, I thought you of all people would understand. You know I don’t like mixing business with pleasure. Besides, I have plenty of work to do.”
Charlene laughed. “You always have plenty of work to do. If becoming involved with a man is a way to slow you down, then I’m all for it. It’s time you started having fun.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I could say the same for you.”
“Face it. Men aren’t drawn to me like they are to you.”
Rachel pulled in a deep breath knowing there was no use telling Charlene just how wrong she was. Her words would go in one ear and out the other. For once she wished Charlene would be the one to face it and see that she was beautiful and sexy.
Charlene had to be the kindest and sweetest person Rachel knew, but she always slid to the background when it came to dating and romance. Rachel blamed Charlene’s parents, since they always thought their older daughter, Candis, was the “pretty one” and had always put her in the limelight. As far as Rachel was concerned, Charlene had a lot going for her, including a beautiful singing voice.
“I’m in no mood to argue with you, Cha. You know how mad I get when you put yourself down.”
“I’m not putting myself down. I’m just stating facts.”
“Then let me state a few of my own,” Rachel said. “I’m the one on set every day surrounded by gorgeous men. The only problem is that those men are checking out the tall, slender actresses, not me.”
When Charlene didn’t say anything, Rachel had a feeling there was more going on with her friend. “Okay, Cha, what’s wrong?”
There was another long moment before Charlene replied, “I talked to Mom today.”
Rachel slumped down into a chair. Mrs. Quinn was the mom from hell, and that was putting it kindly. She’d always managed to boost one daughter up while at the same time tearing the other one down. “And?”
“And she wanted me to know that Candis made the cut for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition next year and will be staying in Paris for a while.”
“That’s great, and I’m sure you’re happy for her.” Rachel knew she could say that because deep down she knew Charlene was. Candis and Charlene had a rather good relationship despite the competitive atmosphere created by their mother.
“Yes, of course I’m happy for her.”
“And?”
“And what?” Charlene asked.
Rachel pulled in a deep breath; her patience was wearing thin. “And what else did Mrs. Quinn say?”
“Just the usual about she still doesn’t understand how Candis could be so pretty and me so plain when we had the same parents. She ended the call by even suggesting that maybe she and Dad got the wrong baby from the hospital. She said it in a joking way but I knew she was dead serious.”
Rachel bet the woman had been dead serious as well, but she would never tell Charlene that. That was the kind of garbage she’d had to put up with all her life. “She wasn’t serious, Cha. You and your mother look too much alike for