Family album

She smiled gently at him. If it was true, she didn't give a damn. She hadn't had as nice an evening in years. She enjoyed being with him. He was bright and fun and good-looking. He danced like a dream and there was something so warm and virile and exciting about him. He was knowledgeable on subjects she had never dreamt of, and he was different from all the men she'd known over the years. He didn't have that empty Hollywood superficiality about him although everyone certainly seemed to know him. “I had a wonderful time, whoever you are.” It was almost two o'clock, and she didn't even want to think about how she would feel in the morning. She had to get up in less than three hours.

“Tomorrow night then?” Ward looked hopeful, and suddenly very young as she smiled at him and shook her head.

“I can't, Ward. I'm a working girl. I have to get up at a quarter to five every morning.”

“Until when?”

“Until we finish the picture.”

He looked crestfallen. Maybe she hadn't had a good time after all. And after two years spent dreaming of her, he desperately wanted her to have a good time when she was with him. He wanted to take her out every night, and wine her and dine her, and sweep her off her feet as never before. He didn't want to wait patiently on the sidelines while she finished her movie.

“Hell, I'm not going to wait that long. How about you get a good night's sleep tomorrow night, and we go out again after that?” He glanced at his watch. “And I won't keep you out so late next time. I didn't realize how late it had gotten.” His eyes sought hers and his voice was deep and gentle. “I had a wonderful time, Faye.” He was head over heels in love with her and he barely knew her. But he had been dreaming of her for the past two years, just like a star-struck kid, and he had promised himself he would look her up when he got home. And now he had, and he wasn't going to let her go until she was just as desperately in love with him. And what Faye didn't know was that what Ward Thayer wanted he got. Almost always.

And now his eyes pleaded with her and she couldn't resist him. “All right. But you have to have me home by midnight or I turn into a pumpkin. Is that a deal?”

“Cross my heart, Cinderella …” He sat staring at her, aching to kiss her, but he didn't dare. It was too soon. He didn't want it to be just like every other date she'd had, with someone pawing her because of who she was. There was so much more to it than that for him. He got out of the car, and came around to open her door, and she stepped out lightly, her hand in his.

“I had such a good time, thank you.” She looked up at him and then he followed her up the pink marble steps. She was half tempted to invite him in for a drink, but then she'd never get any sleep at all, and she needed at least a few hours sleep before she went back on the set. He stood in the doorway, looking down at her, feeling like the boy next door, and his lips gently brushed the top of her head, as he tilted her chin up with one hand so he could look into the exquisite emerald eyes again.

“I'll miss you in the next two days.”

And then, without even wanting to say the words, she nodded. “I'll miss you too, Ward …” Just as she had missed him in the beginning, after Guadalcanal. He had a way of getting under her skin, after these few meetings, as no man ever had before. It would have frightened her, except that she was having too good a time to be frightened. Especially by Ward Thayer.

CHAPTER 4

Faye was on the set on time the next morning, and Pearl brought her three cups of stiff black coffee.

“My hair may stand up straight for the rest of the day after this.”

“Yeah, honey, but if you don't drink it all, you may fall asleep in that big dummy's arms during a love scene.”

“That might happen anyway.” The two women laughed. It was no secret between them, even on the second day on the set, that they didn't think much of her co-star. He had arrived late for work again, and had behaved like a complete horse's ass. His dressing room was too hot, and when they set up fans for him, he complained that there was a draft. He didn't like the hairdresser or the makeup man they had assigned him, and he was still complaining about the lighting and the wardrobe, when in desperation the director told them all to break for lunch. And when she went back to her dressing room, Pearl had the paper open for her. Hedda Hopper's column told her everything she had wanted to know the night before. She read the words carefully and sat staring at them for a moment afterwards, as though to digest them, as Pearl stood watching her, wondering what was in her mind.