He glowered, tightening the lines of his cheeks and mouth, and the expression looked wrong on him. “I don’t want to talk about Kyla.”
The reference to his glamorous soon-to-be fiancée was like a shock of icy water. The atmosphere in the car cooled and grew icicles. Fantastic. Exactly as she’d intended. Now she wasn’t thinking about that seething, charged moment. Or the sparkling weight of his arm against hers.
“Well, I don’t want to talk about Kyla, either. Tell me about your next movie.” That should be an innocuous enough subject, and she’d been dying to revisit it after seeing his entire demeanor transform upon mentioning it at Pearl’s.
“I’d rather not talk for a while.”
She flinched at the bite in his tone. “Sure. No problem.”
The less they talked, the better, because then his beyond-sexy accent wouldn’t skim down her spine and take up residence inside, heating every pore of her skin as if she’d crawled into the sun.
They barely knew each other. They were strangers soon to part ways and only thrown together because she lacked the fortitude to leave Little Crooked Creek on her own. What else could they possibly be to each other?
Road signs for Van Horn flashed by twice before Kris sighed. “Sorry. I can be a jerk.”
She waved dismissively. “Don’t apologize for not wanting me to pry into your life. I’m sure people do that all the time, and you’d like to keep some things private.”
“That’s true, but it’s not the reason I’m a jerk. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated is my specialty.”
He grinned and shot her another of those enigmatic glances over the top of his sunglasses. “Have I mentioned how much I like you?”
“Yes, but you should definitely tell me again.” Maybe she was getting better at the sport of flirting. The trick was not to let on how that kind of statement thrummed straight to the place between her thighs.
He bit his lip, contemplating. She had to avert her eyes from the sight of his white teeth sinking into flesh.
“The problem is,” he said, “Kyla’s starring in my next film, Visions of Black. I guess I’m kind of touchy about it because of the unconventional demands around the financing. Without the right backing, the project’s dead. The downside of not being affiliated with a studio.”
“Contract negotiations are shaky. I get it. Is it worth whatever your investor is demanding?”
He froze, and her hand flew to his arm before she’d realized it. She wanted to comfort him but had no idea why.
She did know one thing—Kris wasn’t and never would be a stranger. There was something between them. A recognition. A mystical draw she couldn’t ignore or pretend to have imagined.
“Is it worth it?” He exhaled and nodded slowly. “To have a chance to direct this film, which will solidify my career and put me on the A-list? Yes, it is. I’ve been busting my back for years to get this shot.”
The raw longing and aspiration carved into his expression hit her in a wave way hotter than the music. She swallowed, hard. Her fantasy imploded and shrank down to one crystalline shard of desire—that he’d look at her like that. She tucked it away before it grew too sharp.
“That’s a lot of mileage for one film.” No doubt he’d be successful, as soon as his investor was happy. “Out of curiosity, what is he asking you to do?”
A tiny muscle in his forehead jumped. “Announce that Kyla and I are engaged.”
Four
Kris could have gone at least another hundred miles without mentioning that. Next he’d be telling VJ it was all a publicity stunt, one he strongly suspected Kyla had talked Abrams into as a method to either push her way into Kris’s bed again or drive him insane. Maybe both. Kris assumed she’d split with Guy Hansen and was on the hunt for another warm, male body, but, knowing Kyla, she could have other ulterior motives. Until he figured out her agenda, it was better to stay off the subject.
Regardless of who had devised the fake engagement, he recognized the value of Kyla’s attachment to Visions and had to suck it up. Without her in the starring role and without the publicity, Abrams would pull out. Without Abrams’s experience making blockbusters, Kris’s career couldn’t move to the next level. Period.
“Oh.” As if fascinated, VJ stared out the window at the landscape dotted with lumpy cactus and heat shimmers, which she’d doubtlessly seen a million times.
VJ was at a loss for words. That was unfortunate, but the less said about Kyla and engagements, the better.
“Hungry?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Thanks.”