“What are you doing here?”
She whipped around. “Doing a little light reading,” Jessie said after she managed to cool the fire burning inside her.
“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He crossed the floor, then shut the laptop.
“No kidding.” She forced the boulder lodged in her esophagus down. “You used our workouts to get into my head, and as a bonus you got into my pants.”
A muscle twitched in his jawline. “That’s not the way it was, Jessie.”
She refused to show him any weakness. “You used my injuries as a backdrop for your screenplay,” Jessie said. “How dare you?”
Blake regarded her with his fathomless green eyes, his scrutiny cutting straight to her soul. “I planned to tell you about the screenplay at the party.”
Heat flushed through her chest and slapped her cheeks. “Oh really?” she asked. “And that would happen before or after you had more mercy sex with me?”
“You know that isn’t true.”
“I won’t let you make that movie. I’ll sue before you make a mockery of my life.”
He grabbed her wrist. “I wrote the original premise before I met you,” he said. “Being with you influenced my story because I care about you. Your strength, the lengths to which you’ve gone while fighting to regain your life, gave me a story with heart.”
“You care?” She jerked away. “If you did, you would have told me about this story, or at least asked for permission to expose my life and how disgusting I feel whenever I look in a mirror.”
He flinched. “I’ve never given you any reason to think I don’t find you attractive.”
She felt her blood pounding, heard banging, banging, banging inside her head. “Of course not. You used my fears and pain and the ugliness I’ve lived with to impress your franchise’s big shots.” Jessie pressed her palms against her hot ears to muffle her internal scream. She waited for the awful beating drums of rage to subside. “This isn’t about heart, it’s about making gobs of money.”
“You’re wrong.”
He reached for her, but she batted him away. She’d shatter into a thousand pieces if he touched her again.
“You judged and convicted yourself for months without having all the facts,” Blake said. “Now you’re doing it to me.”
Spots blurred her vision. She stumbled back a step, clutched the doorjamb, struggling to regain her balance. How dare he use the desolation and suffering she’d endured—all the wounds of her past?
Everything crystallized inside her, splintered into a million pieces. “I trusted you, but you refused to tell me about this one important thing.”
“I wanted a rock solid deal before I told you,” Blake said. “If the screenplay didn’t get approved, I wasn’t going back to the franchise. There wouldn’t have been a point in telling you because I’d have shredded the script. No harm, no foul. Now I’m in the position to take control of the movie franchise, and we have a shot at a future together.”
Something fierce snapped inside her, whipped against her ribcage. Love for the man behind the action hero he played on film warred with the pain lashing at her heart. As much as she wanted to believe Blake hadn’t intended to hurt her, Jessie couldn’t let him determine what he would or wouldn’t share with her. She deserved so much more than that. So did he.
There was only one way to force him to see that he’d lost the one thing that could keep him grounded and whole. Splinters pricked behind her eyes. Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to do this, but she summoned up her courage and found the strength to speak.
Chapter Eleven
“I don’t know what’s worse, Blake. The fact that you used my life as a template for your screenplay, or that you didn’t even include me in your plans until you knew you had sold the story. You didn’t trust me one bit. And until you are willing to risk your heart, I can’t be with you.” Tears tracked down her cheeks.
“We agreed that this was temporary,” he said. “Our hearts weren’t ever supposed to get involved.”
“Mine did. And you wouldn’t have asked me to come to Hollywood if you didn’t care, but I need to be with someone who is 100 percent honest with me and with himself,” Jessie said, then backed out of the room and left him.
Blake’s pulse roared in his ears. He wanted to stop Jessie, but he’d learned long ago that once a woman decided he wasn’t good enough, it was better to move on. He’d forget he wanted Jessie in his life.
He walked to the door and closed it, pressing his hand on the solid wood until the thundering in his head subsided. By Monday he’d be back in Hollywood, and this time he’d be in the driver’s seat. He’d planned to celebrate the victory with Jessie on New Year’s Eve. Certain she’d say yes to his job offer.