"Who are you again?" She didn't bother to hide the irritation in her perfect, husky voice.
"Craig McDa-"
"Craig? Marilyn, do I know anyone named Craig?" She made his name sound so, so
plebian
. Her assistant ruffled through a thick appointment book.
"No, Miss Walker."
"Well, Greg-"
"It's Craig, Craig McDaniel."
"Whatever, Greg-"
"My name is Craig." He tried not to grind his teeth together. He was meeting the woman of his dreams at last and she didn't even remember his name. It was frustrating. He felt himself growing angry.
"Whatever, I've never heard of you, and if I had, I'm certain I wouldn't have issued an invitation to my personal trailer to see you. My agent usually takes care of publicity things like that. Perhaps you talked to him." She waved her arm as if he didn't matter in the least. Marilyn looked from her to him.
"There must be some mistake, I got the letter from yo-"
"You're going to have to leave, I don't have time for this. Marilyn, take care of Greg." With that, she stepped into the trailer and slammed the door. Her personal secretary wrapped her arms around a clipboard and put her body between him and door.
That fucking bitch. How could she do this to him? Especially after the letters they'd shared? He glared at Marilyn and opened his mouth again.
"You'll have to leave or I'll call security."
"Fine. If that's the way you want to play it."
"That's the way it has to be."
He growled to himself, why do they never make things easy? Why must women always do things the hard way? He closed his eyes for a moment, clearly picturing the secretary, Marilyn, in his mind. "Marilyn. Drop your hands to your sides."
Her eyes widened a bit and her mouth formed a shocked "o" but her hands dropped. The appointment book she'd been carrying fell to the ground, papers flying everywhere. Marilyn stared for a moment, then bent to pick them up. "No, Marilyn." Her eyes met his again, angry, but she straightened back up.
"Good. Open the door, then beat it. Don't come back until tomorrow and forget you ever saw me. If you even bother to think about it, you'll remember that Miss Walker has given you the day off."
She took a hesitant step forward, then she took off, running alongside the building until she rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Much better. He opened the door, stepped inside, and locked himself in with her.
"Marilyn? Did you get rid of that guy? Call Maury and find out what the hell that was all about."
Her voice came from the rear of the trailer. "Come here, Miss Walker." He waited patiently for his order to be obeyed. Something squeaked and then she appeared, looking rather angry.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Where is Marilyn."
"I sent her off. You're coming home with me, Miss Walker. Tell me that I may call you by your given name. Be polite."
"Call me, Kate," she said smoothly. "You sent her off? What in the-"
"No cursing. You're a beautiful lady and you will behave like a lady."
"Who are you?" She backed a few steps, suddenly uneasy.
"I am Craig McDaniel. You wanted to spend the evening with me. Dinner, dancing, perhaps a nightcap at your place. Remember?"
"I-"
"Invite me."
"Please, come to dinner with me, then dancing. Perhaps a nightcap at my place?" She backed into the wall, "What are you doing to me?"
"Just helping you remember what is important. Get ready, we'll go to dinner. I have an idea, why don't we eat in? You can cook me dinner and we can dance in private."
"I don't know how to cook!"
"We'll pick something up on the way. Get your things. We are leaving now."
Mutely, she gathered her purse and slipped on her sunglasses. The keys rattled in her hands. The last thing she wanted to do was leave, particularly with him. He was creepy and the added fact that she did everything he told her to unnerved her even more. "Please, Craig-"
"Call me Mr. McDaniel."
"Mr. McDaniel, please, whatever you're doing to me, please stop it."
"Don't be afraid of me, Kate."
"I'm not afraid of you."
He scowled. "Get on your knees."
She sank slowly to her knees, staring up at him with those huge, luminous blue eyes that had captured his heart the first time he'd seen them in a magazine. He smiled at her. This was much better. He liked the soft, uncertain expression in them, the upturned face, and the submissive posture that bespoke of a woman in love.
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"You, my love." He frowned, the fear was back in her eyes. He shut his for a moment, gathering a clear picture of her. He banished all other thoughts from his mind. He was in perfect control. "Don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you."
For some reason, he didn't like hearing that again. "You should be." He looked around the trailer in frustration. This was not the place he'd imagined beginning his life with her. It was shoddy and full of the instruments of her acting career, make up, mirrors, costumes. He was determined that her career would end. There was no need for her to put on that whore's paint and cavort around in front of a camera, showing her body to any man who cared to look. He was there now. "Get up. We're going to leave now, do whatever you have to do to get us out of here and to your place. I don't want anyone to think you're doing something unusual. You'll drive us there."
She stood, graceful as a ballerina and opened the door. There were people out there who glanced askance at them, but didn't stop their progress. She was friendly with several of them, the women she could speak to, but he put a quick stop to any conversation she had with other men. That was not going to happen again.
She unlocked the car and took the driver's seat. He sat in the passenger seat of her sleek BMW and decided that would be the last time she'd drive. It was more appropriate that he do it. And the car had to go. It drew attention to her. "Tomorrow, you'll call this Maury and tell him he's fired. No, you won't call him. You'll write him a letter. You will not speak to any other man besides me without my permission. Is that understood?"
"Yes."
"Say yes, Mr. McDaniel or no, Mr. McDaniel."
"Yes, Mr. McDaniel."
"Good girl." He watched the passing scenery and ignored her. From now on Marilyn would chauffeur them. That was better. They would get a good car and Marilyn would drive them around. They could buy her an outfit or something.
She turned the car into a driveway to a townhouse. "My condo," she said.
"Good. Let's go in."
Wordlessly, she let them into her home. He locked the door behind them. "Take your clothes off. You won't wear clothes unless I tell you to. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. McDaniel." Her fingers plucked at the buttons to her blouse. She stared at them while she slowly shed her clothing. At first he thought she should be looking at him, but then he decided he liked her staring at the floor. It was almost as good as her being on her knees.