The actor’s blue eyes blazed with anger. “What the hell is right! What the hell is going on with you? You tell me there’s no Julian Best book or movie in the works. I agree to be released from my contract and sign on for a different job . . . in freaking Russia, for God’s sake! And now some snot-nosed soaps actor tells the casting director he’s there to audition for the upcoming Julian Best film!”

An answering anger ripped through Gavin. “There’s no film.”

“Then why the blazes did a wannabe named Troy Nichols show up in Gail’s office, tossing your name around and declaring there’s going to be a movie? Not only that, it’s set at Christmas. That seems like more than a coincidence when you’re working on a holiday story right now.”

Behind Gavin’s back, Allie gasped and jerked under the hand he was using to hold her there.

Suddenly, all the things he thought he knew about Allie were smothered by a dark fog that rolled through him, clogging his lungs, blurring his thoughts, making his heart struggle to beat in his chest. Something seemed off-kilter, but he couldn’t figure it out as he suffocated under the sense of betrayal.

He released Allie’s hand and stepped to the side, leaving her exposed to Hugh. “Any mention of ghostwriters?” he asked the enraged actor.

Hugh nodded, his lips in a tight line. “You said you’d never allow it.”

“Evidently, you chose to believe a—what was it?—snot-nosed soaps actor over your old friend,” Gavin said. As much as he wanted to see Allie’s reaction, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“Let’s just say that Nichols had a lot of details to back up his story. Greg believed him enough to send me out here to track you down.”

“Greg has Jane’s number.” Gavin was grasping at straws, trying to stave off the inevitable conclusion that Allie had used him to help her ex-husband.

“Jane stonewalled him. Told him she had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Maybe because it’s all a pack of lies,” Gavin said.

Hugh pulled his cell phone out of his tuxedo’s breast pocket and held it out to Gavin. “Tell Greg that.”

“Did you perhaps not notice that we are at a party?” Gavin said. “I don’t make business calls when I am supposed to be enjoying myself.”

He felt Allie slip her hand into the crook of his elbow and give it a gentle tug. “Why don’t you take a moment to reassure Hugh?” Allie said. “I’ll go find Chloe and Miranda.”

When he glanced down, he found her face turned up to his, her expression a strange mix of anger, worry, and confusion. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded and lifted his arm to indicate she should remove her hand.

She started to rise on her toes to kiss his cheek, but he shifted away. A stricken look darkened her eyes, and she hurried away across the sand without even acknowledging Hugh.

“That was some ugly body language from you,” Hugh said, watching Allie leave. “Especially since not five minutes ago you were so engrossed in kissing her that I practically had to assault you to get your attention.”

Gavin followed her exit, too, unable to tear his eyes away from the shimmer of her hair and the swirl of her gossamer skirt around her slender ankles. “Troy Nichols is her ex-husband.”

“Their divorce must have been quite amicable, if she’s using her connection with you to help him.” Hugh’s fury had dropped to a simmer.

Or it had been transmitted to Gavin. “She said not, but then she clearly lied to me.”

“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Why not? You did.”

Hugh lifted a hand in admonition. “Nichols had the whole story down, but it was the Christmas angle that convinced me. How could Nichols come up with that on his own?”

A niggle of unease made Gavin frown. It had also been the Christmas theme that convinced him Allie was involved. She was the only person in the world besides Hugh who knew what he was working on now. But he’d forgotten that others knew about the abandoned holiday novella: Jane and his stepsister Ruth. Had he told anyone else?

“Why would I suddenly turn Julian over to a ghostwriter?” Gavin asked to avoid his uncomfortable line of thought.

“Desperation. Guilt. You haven’t been yourself in a long time,” Hugh said.

The truth of that hit Gavin in the gut. He’d fallen into the black hole that always yawned inside him. Until Allie had leaned over the edge and offered him her hand to pull him up. But this proved once again he couldn’t depend on someone else to haul him out. Especially a woman.

To think that he’d been doing his damnedest to convince Allie to come live with him.

“You have brought me to my senses,” Gavin said. “And I feel the need to get drunk.”

“You can’t do that at a charity ball. Too many reporters here.”

“I’m not a movie star with an image to worry about,” Gavin said.

Hugh sighed and laid his hand on Gavin’s arm. “Consider me your conscience, my friend. No drinking to excess.”

But he needed to drown this sense of betrayal, to numb the slashing pain of it into oblivion, however temporary. “Try to stop me.”

Chapter 28

Tears blurred Allie’s vision as she hurried across the sand, her skirt clutched in her hands. Gavin hadn’t needed to utter a single word. She’d seen it in his face, in the involuntary movement of withdrawal when she’d tried to kiss him. He’d heard Troy’s name and assumed the worst. Although what he thought she had to gain by it was beyond her. In fact, she couldn’t figure out what Troy had to gain by stirring up false rumors, since Gavin swore there could be no movie without him. Why audition for a part that didn’t exist?

She veered out of the tent, shuddering when her feet hit the icy sand and the frigid wind cut through her flimsy dress. Fumbling her cell phone out of her tiny evening purse, she dialed Troy’s number. His voice mail picked up, and she muttered a curse before saying, “Call me. Immediately.”

The cold was so intense that her teeth clicked together as she shivered, and the tears streaking down her cheeks felt as though they were freezing.

How could Gavin ask her to stay with him one minute and believe she had betrayed his trust the next?

For a few joyful moments, she’d allowed herself to hope it might work out between them. She’d tried to point out the gulf between them, but her heart had cartwheeled in her chest when Gavin said he didn’t want to lose her. His lack of eloquence had convinced her he meant it. Although her good sense had asked, For how long?