The Girl From Summer Hill Read online

  “You’re better-looking than he is,” she said seriously.

  “You’ve made my day. So how about it?” He was pointing to a big tree that had fallen across the stream.

  She knew what he meant: the scene in Dirty Dancing when Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey balance on the log while he talks about how he came to be a dancer. “Nope,” Casey said. “I’m not Gizzy. I don’t do logs. How about if we—”

  Tate took her hand, but no electricity shot between them, just warmth and encouragement.

  “How do you do that? Turn emotions on and off?”

  “I have no idea. Some kind of control, I guess.” He started toward the log, but when Casey didn’t move, he put her hand to his lips. His voice dropped to a low growl. “The scent of you runs through my body. It delights me, excites me, drives me mad with desire. To touch you, caress you, to…” His voice was a whisper. “To kiss you, I would give my all.”

  Casey was staring at him, unable to move or to speak.

  He dropped her hand. “The log? Wanna try it?”

  She had to shake her head to clear it. “Did you make that up?”

  “Nah. Lines from one of my movies. It’s either more of that or you walk across the log with me.”

  “Tree!” she said, and pushed past him. “Give me a boost, and watch what you do with your hands.”

  He lifted her up so she was facing him. He did watch his hands—as they ran down her body. In the next second he was on the log with her.

  Casey tried to hide it, but she really was afraid of the height, the narrow roundness of the tree, and maybe a little scared of Tate Landers. If he’d kept on with his hand-kissing and his words, she might have fallen into his arms. She tended to take lovemaking seriously, but it seemed to be a game to him. He could turn the seduction—the electricity between them—off and on at will.

  Tate held both her hands as she stepped backward on the log. No matter what else she felt about him, she trusted him to not let her fall.

  “We needed the money,” he said. “My dad died when I was four and Nina was just a baby.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I grew up seeing my mom struggle to pay the bills and raise us. I wanted to help, but how could I? I was only a kid.” They were in the middle of the log, and he let go of one of her hands.

  “We were living in California, and a kid at school said his mom was taking him to try out for a role in a movie.”

  “And you went too and got the job, which means that you were born talented.”

  “Just the opposite. My mom took me to the audition and it was a cattle call, with over three hundred kids. Most of them were eliminated before the director saw them.”

  “He only wanted pretty boys?”

  Tate gave a half smile. “Physical appearance has a great deal to do with how you’re cast.”

  “A diplomatic answer. But I guess you were the cutest child there.”

  “I was certainly the most scared kid. But not by the audition. That morning my mother had one of her asthma attacks. It was so bad I thought she was going to die.”

  “Oh,” Casey said. “I really am sorry.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, that day I was pretty gloomy. The director put all the kids who were possibilities on a stage. He wanted to see if we could follow directions, so he told us that we weren’t to laugh no matter what we saw. He then paraded people past us. They did pratfalls, funny dances, made faces, et cetera. One by one, the kids were eliminated.”

  “But not you.”

  “No. I was so worried about my mother that nothing on earth could make me smile. After a while there were only three boys left and the director told us to cry. One kid couldn’t do it, one faked it, but I…”

  “You cried for real.”

  “Oh, yes. The director joked that I was either a great actor or one seriously unhappy kid. He said, ‘Okay, so let’s see which one it is.’ He told me to smile. I don’t know if it was fate or what, but just then my mother walked in and gave me a thumbs-up. She had recovered from her attack.”

  “And you smiled.”

  “With all the joy I felt. The director said, ‘You’re hired. And it’s my guess that we have a star in the making.’ ” Tate stopped talking and looked at her.

  “That’s a wonderful story.”

  “Think so? To my mind, I got the job on false pretenses. I had no idea how to act, so I had to learn. For years I used my emotions about my mother to portray whatever the director asked for. But eventually I learned to cry, laugh, whatever, without having to tear out my guts to do it. That wasn’t easy.”

  “What about the smoldering that I’ve heard about?”

  “That is a natural talent. Want me to show you?” He was leading her backward, toward the end of the log.

  “No thanks.”

  “My loss.”

  “Tell me, do you come on to all women as you’re doing to me?”

  “No.” His face turned serious. “The truth is that since I was a teenager I’ve just stood still and women have come to me. Being the predator is a new experience.” He smiled at her in a very sweet way. “As much as I hate to say it, we better go back. Jack wanted to go over lines for tomorrow.”

  “Don’t mention the play! If I hadn’t been so angry at you, I wouldn’t be stuck doing something I’m no good at.”

  Tate jumped down off the log and held up his hands to her. He caught her by the waist and swung her down. “Ha! The way you shot Mean Girl barbs at me shows you have a lot of talent. And don’t kid yourself about Kit. I think he meant for you to have the role from the beginning.”

  “I don’t think so. Last winter Stacy and I helped him write the script, and we talked about who could play the parts. Neither Stacy nor I was ever considered as an actor.”

  They were walking back to the picnic area, Casey in front.

  “Stacy again!” Tate said. “She and my sister became friends.”

  “I know. I used to hear them on the phone. We knew Nina was related to Kit and that she was overseeing the decorating of the house, but we didn’t know her family used to own the place. You bought it back because…”

  “Mom loved Tattwell so much. When she was a kid, she spent summers there with her family. She and a little boy were inseparable. They used to shower on the back porch of the house Mom’s family stayed in.”

  “I guess that’s my house,” Casey said. “So you wanted to do that too?”

  “I did.” They had reached the picnic area. Gizzy was sitting on the quilt, her back against the boulder, and Jack was stretched out, his head on her lap. She had a copy of Kit’s script of Pride and Prejudice in her hands.

  Jack turned to them. “Here they are. You two look too happy. Lizzy and Darcy are supposed to hate each other.”

  “No,” Tate said. “She hates me but I love her. Most true-to-life role I ever had.” He sat down on the quilt and picked up a bottle of water. “Is there any lemonade left?”

  “No,” Jack said, “but I found some beer in the bottom of a cooler. Casey, it wasn’t nice to hide that.”

  “There’s a difference between hiding and saving. If you’d drunk it with lunch, you wouldn’t have it now. Did you find the green-chili crackers? No? I’ll get them.” She opened a plastic container that she’d hidden under some empty ones. “Did you two settle your argument?”

  Gizzy smiled, but Jack grimaced. “I lost,” he said. “Completely and totally lost. So which scene are we doing first?”

  “The opening one?” Casey sat down near Tate.

  “No,” Tate said, “we have to do ours out of order. Jack and I will have to go back to L.A. for a few days, probably next week, so we’ll miss some rehearsals. He needs to reshoot some scenes and I have to be fitted for armor.”

  “Really?” Gizzy said. “What’s the movie?”

  “It doesn’t have a name yet,” Tate said. “The final script isn’t done and there’s a big argument about the title. I’m playing