living space. Her tiny apartment could fit in this one living room, with enough room to spare for a volleyball court.
Nick came around in front of her, striking a grand pose as he leaned against the oak banister of his long, winding stairway. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he teased.
“Just what is your definition of humble?” she asked, still drinking in the decor. Rather than being overpowered by it, she found it surprisingly tasteful and subdued, the colors a pleasing blend of blues and browns. She had never thought the two colors could complement each other so well.
“Humble is what I feel when I’m next to you,” he said, swinging down from the bottom step and neatly taking hold of her waist. She half expected a long vine to pop out of the ceiling so he could sail with her in his arms.
“I think you’ve been studying your lines in those movies too closely,” she commented, trying to let him know that she was not affected by his charm.
“Hi.”
Shane turned around and saw Scottie coming toward them. He was wearing a robe and brown-dotted pajama legs poked out below its hem.
“I didn’t know you were an early riser like Nick,” he said, joining them.
“Not voluntarily,” Shane said. “Do you live here?” There was no other conclusion to be drawn at the moment, but she would have thought it more fitting if a bevy of scantily clad girls was to come spilling out of secluded bedrooms. One sleepy-eyed young man didn’t do much to enhance an expose.
“I promised his mother I’d look out for him,” Nick told her, answering for Scottie.
She looked up at Nick’s face, which never seemed to be far away from her own. “You’re sounding nobler all the time,” she said dryly.
“But of course. Was there ever any doubt?” Nick sounded as if he might be serious.
Shane did not answer his half-posed question. Instead she began to meander the length of the brightly lit foyer, looking at the paintings that hung there. An enormous skylight loomed above on the second floor.
“Can I show you around?” Nick offered. Once again he slipped an almost possessive hand around her small waist, pulling her closer to him, so her breasts rubbed against his rib cage. “Perhaps you’d like to see my casting couch? All of us nasty Hollywood types have one, you know. It’s where we seduce innocent young things.” He raised and lowered his brows twice, twirling the edge of his moustache villainously.
Scottie laughed, then excused himself to get breakfast.
“I think we’ll skip the couch,” Shane said, backing out of his embrace. “I’m sure you don’t use anything so archaic.” She cocked her head, thinking for a moment. “You’d be the type to improvise.”
Nick’s eyes sparkled as he led her away. “The stars above, the new-mown hay—anything at my disposal,” he told her, whispering the words into her hair.
A little shiver went through her. She could scarcely pay attention during the tour of the house, but she did learn that there were twenty rooms in all. From the decking outside the second-story game room, Shane looked down on a valley dotted with houses and cars. She let out an impressed soft whistle.
Nick grinned. “It is kind of like looking down from a castle, isn’t it?” he asked, reacting to her expression.
She turned toward him, finding him even more magnificent than the view below her. She leaned against the intricately fashioned railing, with its fleur-de-lis motif. “Maybe you’re taking your roles to heart,” she suggested. He was moving in to kiss her. She could read the thought in his eyes. She turned her head and looked back down at the valley. “Aren’t you afraid of getting type-cast?” she asked, a bit too quickly.
He laughed. Was it at her action or her words? “I already am,” he told her. “And it doesn’t bother me one bit. I have no great ambition as an actor. I know what I’m capable of, and when the time comes when I can no longer scale mountains to