Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Maisey Yates (sad books to read .txt) 📖

to inspect her face. Her brown eyes were dry, but he wasn’t reassured. She might not be crying, but she certainly was trembling. He cupped her face and kissed her eyelids. Her eyelashes fluttered against his lips.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered.

“That was a lot,” she said.

“The table read? You don’t think it’s going well?”

“No!” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s going great, better than I could have imagined.”

He stroked her hair. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” she said. “A lot of the time it’s just me alone with my computer and the voices in my head. Today it felt like I belonged to something, and I…don’t know.”

“Oh, love. Come here.” He gathered her trembling body in his arms. He’d never seen her this way, and it tore him up. “You belong.”

She belonged to him, but he couldn’t say that without freaking her out.

“Sorry.” She extracted herself from his embrace. “I didn’t expect to get so emotional.”

“Don’t worry. I understand.”

He pulled her up to her feet. She looked up at him, a glint of pride in her yes. “You were good in there,” she said. “Really good.”

“I may just be the next Scorsese.”

“Oh, God! Help me!”

She was her playful self again, and Julian exhaled with relief. His world had spun off its axis just now. He didn’t care if he had a room full of people waiting—he would have taken all the time in the world to get her to smile again.

She raised herself on the tips of her toes and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“No, love, no.” Julian buried his face in her hair. She smelled sweeter than any flower in the garden. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A mid-October tropical storm caused Midnight Sun to wrap a day late. But once Julian had called it a wrap late on a Thursday afternoon, it was a party. The cast, crew and friends they’d made during the shoot gathered by the pool. The hotel staff was prepared, marching out with minibottles of Piper-Heidsieck fitted with straws and cigars for anyone who cared to smoke. The rollout happened under Grace’s hawkish eye, her mouth gathered in a tight frown.

Nina approached her. “You must be happy to have us out of your hair soon.”

Julian had booked the entire hotel, filling every room with the cast and heads of each creative department in order to have the privacy and freedom needed to film. Pretty soon the caravan would clear out. Nina was feeling anxious about it. She and Julian had not discussed the future. They’d been too busy. During filming, she’d stepped in as the script manager, making sure the actors kept to their lines and monitoring for lapses in continuity. This had given her a front seat to all the action. It had been an exhilarating experience, but it was over. So now what?

“Not really,” Grace said.

“Are you saying you’ll miss us?” Nina exclaimed. “Don’t get sentimental on me now!”

“I would never.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m nearing the end of an era. It’s going to be an adjustment.”

Nina felt sure there was more Grace wanted to say, but she was trapped in her role of mistress of the manor. “Come with me.”

Grace slipped her a sharp glance. “Where to?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Impossible. I’m working.”

“This place runs itself. Come out for a walk with me. When was the last time you’ve been to the beach? And it’s just across the street!”

Grace grunted, and Nina took it as a yes. She swiped two minibottles of champagne off a tray, threaded an arm around Grace’s and dragged her all the way to the front gates.

“We’ll be right back,” Nina said to the guards.

“And if we’re not, send for me,” Grace added.

As soon as they made it across Ocean Drive, Grace Guzman loosened up. She slipped off her tailored cherry-red jacket. Nina had no trouble convincing her to kick off her stilettos, and together they trekked across the sand toward the shore. It was sunset, and the surf roared at their feet.

“Give me that bottle,” Grace said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nina handed her a minibottle and raised her own. “Cheers?”

“I have nothing to be cheery about,” she said flatly. “¡Salud!”

Nina decided to ask the question that had been burning inside her for months now. “Exactly what is your problem?”

“Men are my problem,” she said. “My divorce is final, and my father has decided to sell the hotel.”

“You’re selling the Sand Castle?” Nina cried. “Why?”

“We love it, but it’s a money pit. I’m going to have a hard time letting go.”

So much made sense now. The way they’d catered to Julian and his cast and his crew and tolerated the imposed inconvenience of hours of filming, it all finally made sense. No wonder she’d kicked Nina out of the Oasis the instant a Hollywood star came calling. The hotel needed the business.

“Sorry about the divorce,” Nina said, ashamed for having skipped over such a seismic life event in the first place.

“Actually, I’ll drink to that.” Grace raised her bottle. “Cheers!”

“That’s the spirit.” She wished that she and Grace had met under different circumstances. They might’ve become friends. She had one more question. She was pushing it, but the bubbly made her bold. “Do you think you and Francisco Cortes could be a thing?”

“I don’t need a thing,” Grace said. “Not right now.”

“But you could use some company,” Nina said. “Who will drink with you in the garden when I’m gone?”

“How about you and Mr. Knight?”

“What about us?” She turned to face the ocean. So much for being bold.

“I’m sorry. As a rule, I don’t comment on the hotel guests’ private affairs.”

“It’s okay. That’s why I brought you out here. You can forget your rules.”

“I’ll say this—people come to Miami to fool around. It rarely means anything. Usually, it ends with regret.”

The truth roared in Nina’s ears as loud as the surf. She and Julian were not fooling around. If their affair ended tomorrow, she would not regret