Come a Little Bit Closer: The Sullivans (12 page)

After all, this wasn’t a date. He was simply acting as a friendly tour guide in his native San Francisco for a few hours. The fact that he was a ginormous movie star and could easily have hired a whole staff of people to show her around town was irrelevant. Of course, she could only imagine how happy the tour operators had been to hear from Smith Sullivan. They probably couldn’t give him the two tickets fast enough.

It wasn’t until she slid into the passenger seat of his Jaguar that she realized they’d never been in such a small space together before. The roar of the engine had her heart racing. Or, maybe it was the way he turned and gave her a sexy grin right before he drove out of the lot and onto the busy San Francisco streets.

With every mile he covered, the memory of the kiss they’d shared loomed bigger and bigger, to the point where her lips actually started tingling as if it had been a minute rather than a day since she’d pressed her mouth to his.

“Valentina.” Her name on his lips had heat rushing through her as she slowly turned her gaze to him. “Look at that moon.”

She’d been staring down at her clenched hands so hard that she was surprised when she looked out the window and realized a full moon was rising over the water, the blue bay turning a deep purple.

“It’s beautiful.”

So beautiful that it suddenly didn’t make any sense to be nervous. She’d never forgive herself if she forgot to soak up the wonder of the experience just because she was so worried about what Smith wanted from her.

He’d promised he wouldn’t kiss her until she asked, hadn’t he? And she wouldn’t ask him, so that meant they could just be friends.

At least she hoped they could as she turned back to him and said, “You were great today.”

He kept his eyes on the road as he smiled at her compliment. “Thanks, it felt good. Of course, your sister makes it easy.”

“You should have seen her when she was ten. She’d be doing a commercial with a bunch of pros, and by the end, pretty much everyone knew she was the reason they’d shone so brightly.”

He pulled into a gated parking lot by the water and when she stepped out of the car, the wind blew hard enough that she needed to put on her coat.

“Let me,” he said as he slipped it over her shoulders.

Warmth moved through her, and not just because of the wool. He hadn’t copped a feel, hadn’t touched anything but her coat, but even from where he’d been standing behind her, heat had radiated from him.

What, she found herself wondering, would happen if she let herself lean into his warmth, his strength, just for a few moments?

It was harder to shake the crazy question out of her head than it should have been. Grateful for the cold rush of air that blew past—on the hopes that it could blow the forbidden desire away, too—she reached into her pockets for her gloves, but they were empty.

Smith finished putting on his jacket just as she shivered. He was frowning as he said, “Are you warm enough?”

“It’s just my hands. I forgot my gloves.”

He slid his fingers through hers. “Does this help?”

She knew she should pull her hands away. But, oh, he was so warm. And her hands always got so cold.

She looked down at their linked hands, but when she looked back up, the “Yes” she’d been about to say got lost in the need in his eyes. The same need she knew had to be mirrored in her own. All she could manage was a nod.

Her heart momentarily stopped beating as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her memories of the sweet pressure of his lips on hers made her want it again so badly that, in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care that he was about to break his promise to her. Only, instead of kissing her, he simply lifted her hands to his lips.

He didn’t press a kiss to either of them, just held them against his mouth for a long moment before he said, “Why don’t we go see what the moon looks like from the boat?”

* * *

Valentina stared at the yacht in confusion. “I thought you had to take a ferry to get to Alcatraz.”

“Usually you do,” he said, “but they made a special exception for you.”

“Not for me,” she said with a shake of her head. “For you.” Suddenly, she turned to him with a frown. “We aren’t going as part of the regular group tour, are we?”

The wind blew a lock of her hair into her mouth and he reached out to slide it away, letting his fingers linger on her cheek for a moment.

“No, we’re not.”

His captain for the evening came out on the dock to greet them, and when he introduced Billy to Valentina, Smith didn’t miss the approval in the other man’s eyes. He helped Valentina on board and even though her eyes widened a little at the luxurious interior, she didn’t make a fuss about it. Probably because she simply didn’t give a damn about his money or possessions. In any case, she and Tatiana had likely been to Hollywood events on even bigger boats than this.

Yet again he was surprised by how nice it was not to have to explain his life to her. It was why so many people in the entertainment industry ended up together. No one else could really understand what it was like unless they’d lived through it themselves. Yes, she’d said she didn’t like being in the spotlight, but the fact that she’d helped Tatiana deal with them for so many years meant Valentina would also be adept at avoiding them. She’d know exactly where to look for them, how to outwit them, and when there was no choice, how to gracefully give in to them for an hour or two.

“What can I get you to drink?” He gestured to the fully stocked bar.

“Sparkling water would be lovely, thank you.”

He poured two glasses and joined her where she was standing at the rail staring out at the dark water. Just then Billy got them underway and the sudden movement jolted them enough that she fell back into his chest. Finally getting to hold her, it struck him yet again how surprisingly soft and curvy she was against him.

“Steadier now?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. “I think so.”

“And are you warm enough?”

“I am now.”

He wanted to bury his face in her hair to breathe her in, wanted to lower his mouth to the sweet curve of her neck, wanted to taste her soft skin. Instead, he reminded himself that one hand on the small of her back, the other holding hers to keep it warm, would have to be enough for now. Until she asked for more.

In silence, he held her as the boat sped across the Bay toward the infamous prison.

* * *

A National Park official stood on the island’s pier as they docked. “Welcome to Alcatraz.” The gray-haired man, who introduced himself as Sam Maines, had a deep, commanding voice that gave extra gravity to the historic maximum-security prison. He was a man who looked as comfortable on the rocks as the prison guards from a half-century ago must have.

As he helped Valentina disembark from the yacht, Smith made a mental note to get Sam’s contact information for the next time he needed a strong, steady, gray-haired man in a film. Not to mention the fact that the man’s eyes hadn’t so much as flickered when he’d seen who Smith was.

The night, he thought as the wind blew across them and Valentina instinctively leaned in closer to him for warmth, was just getting better and better. He loved the fact that she didn’t make even the slightest move to pull her hand from his as they followed the guide up past the Officer’s Club toward the south entrance.

“Alcatraz was cold,” Sam told them. “Harsh. Unforgiving. And it was also home to the families of the guards who kept it running.”

Smith had always been interested in history, especially one as colorful as this one. But tonight he was far more interested in the way Valentina ate up the stories Sam told them about the way Al Capone made several attempts to con the Warden into giving him the special privileges he’d had at other prisons...but was denied at Alcatraz.

Smith didn’t know if she realized it, but whenever she heard something really interesting, she gave his hand a squeeze.

After thirty minutes or so, Sam led them into the cellhouse building. When they came to the main block of cells, known as
Broadway,
all three of them stood in silence as they took in the forbidding bars, the cement cells.

“I’ll leave you two to explore for a few minutes.”

As soon as they were alone and walking together down the middle of the cells, Valentina said, “Can you hear them?”

Yes, he could hear the same echoes in the silence that she obviously did. “It’s like the men were here yesterday instead of fifty years ago.”

She read the plaque on the wall where they’d stopped. “Three men plotted their escape right here.” She let go of his hand as she moved into the cell, to get a closer look at the hole in the cement. “Just think, they spent months whittling away at the cement. Everyone told them it was impossible.” Smith moved in behind her as she turned to ask him, “Do you think they made it after all?”

“That water is pretty cold. What do you think happened?”

“I’m sure they belonged in prison, and that the crimes they’d committed were wrong, but I still can’t but hope they made it out of the water alive.” She gave him a crooked smile. “And that they made the most of the years they’d stolen back for themselves.”

Smith knew most people would be surprised to find out that Valentina was a secret romantic. But he’d known it about her almost from the start. That first day on set when he and Tatiana had stopped filming and the two of them had immediately dropped out of character, Valentina’s eyes had stayed soft and clouded over with emotion long after the cameras had stopped rolling.

Without warning, the prison cell doors slid shut behind them. Valentina automatically jumped into his arms as she let out a surprised—and slightly panicky—laugh.

“Did you know Sam was going to do that?”

“No.” But he had just decided to give Sam the tip of a lifetime for coming up with this brilliant plan. Smith looked down at Valentina. “Puts a whole different spin on things when the doors close, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes were bright, and so damn beautiful, as she stared up at him. “Yes,” she breathed. “
Different
.”

He’d never break a promise to her in a million years, but that didn’t mean he could stop himself from lowering his face to hers. Her cheek was so soft against his. He barely stifled a groan as she reached up to wind her arms around his neck.

“How long do you think he’ll keep us locked up?”

Her whisper against his ear had him harder than he’d ever been in his life. He slid his hands slowly down her back until they rested just above the curve of her hips.

“Not long enough,” he answered with perfect honesty.

She shifted against him so that she could stare up at him and he held his breath as he took in the clear desire on her face.

Lord, he wanted to kiss her. She was fire in his arms, heating up the cold cell with the press of her curves against him. Her lips opened and he was sure that she was just about to ask him for a second kiss, when the heavy sound of footsteps broke the heady silence.

Before Valentina could pull out of his arms, he lowered his mouth as close as he could to hers without touching it and whispered, “Not even close to long enough.”

Chapter Eleven

A short while later when they stepped out under the full moon, Valentina’s her breath caught as she took in the incredibly romantic, and unexpected, scene. Water crashed on the rocks just below a table set for two, with four portable heaters ringing the white tablecloth.

A vase in the center of the table held a single pink rose.

The meaning of the flower he’d picked was loud and clear as he extended his hand to her:
desire and passion.

“Hungry?”

She nodded, knowing there was more than enough moonlight for him to see that she was hungry for far more than food, if he looked closely. He held out her chair and when he sat down opposite her, the table was small enough that their knees bumped underneath, making her smile through the nerves that attraction had brought front and center. He poured a glass of cabernet from Marcus’s winery and handed it to her.

He lifted the covers off their plates and her stomach grumbled in appreciation at the lobster and crab before her. She had no idea how he’d managed to get such delicious food delivered to the island. Their tour guide had left them alone again and there was no chef or waiter around as far as she could see.

“I agree with your stomach,” he teased, and picked up his fork to dig in.

Valentina took her first bite and a small moan of pleasure slipped out. “So good.”

She didn’t see that Smith had stopped with his first bite halfway to his mouth, his eyes dark, hungry, as he watched her.

But she couldn’t miss how hoarse his voice was suddenly, as he said, “I’m glad you like it.”

When was the last time she’d eaten a really good meal? She honestly couldn’t remember, with the long hours she’d been putting in since filming began.

She took another bite and her eyes closed on their own. “I forgot how much I like good food.” She tried to tamp down on the greed racing through her veins as she turned her focus back to him. “This is amazing. Your boat. The private tour. Dinner.” She reached for his hand without thinking. “Thank you.”

He slid his fingers into hers. “I’m glad you invited me to come with you.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, not when he’d gone to all this trouble for her and it had been such a wonderful night already.

“Well,” she teased, “I could see how much you wanted to see Alcatraz again. Do you have some story ideas kicking around in your head about it?”

“Maybe. You?”

She was surprised by his question. Surprised enough to say, “I can’t stop wondering about the women on the island.”

“Makes sense that the only women on the island were married.”

She nodded. “It does, but who says they were all happily married?” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “What if one of them was in love...but not with her husband?”

His eyes lit. “Are you asking, what if one of them fell in love with one of the prisoners?”