Tony Alvarez hit New York like a wild tornado. He was handsome, flashy, full of zest - a purveyor of sexy excitement everywhere he went. He took over the biggest penthouse suite at the Four Seasons in New York and called Lola immediately.

'Tonight, ten o'clock,' he said, lolling in his suite enjoying a manicure and a pedicure. 'I'll come get you.'

'Can't wait,' she replied, shivering with anticipation. She'd already chosen the dress she would wear - a Versace number that left little to the imagination.

Over it she planned on throwing a white mink coat she'd rushed out and purchased at Bergdorf's.

Faye had flown back to L.A. for the weekend. Was she going to get a shock when she saw the Monday morning papers!

It so happened Tony arrived in New York on the day Lola was due to shoot her first bedroom scene with Linc. Fitch was wandering around the set, most concerned that everything went well. Lola assured him that he wouldn't be disappointed. 'I'm a love-scene veteran,' she informed the panicky director.

'Leave everything to me.'

Later that day, Linc walked on to the set wearing a white towelling bathrobe. He was surrounded by his entourage.

Lola, lounging in her chair, was also in a bathrobe. Underneath she wore a brief thong with flesh-coloured pasties covering her nipples. She was not shy about getting almost naked on screen - the key word was 'almost' never let them see everything. Why take away the mystery?

'What you got on under there, Linc?' she asked teasingly.

'A hard-on and a smile,' he joked, not at all intimidated by the sexy actress.

He was in good shape due to five hundred push-ups a day, an hour on the treadmill, plus lifting weights. For a man his age he looked pretty damn good.

Not that he was old, but you had to be twenty-two in Hollywood, these days.

'What's under your robe?' he asked.

You bastard! she thought. If you had any kind of memory you'd know exactly what was under my robe. 'Wouldn't you like to know?' she said, faking a sexy smile.

Maybe. If I wasn't married, he thought.

When it came time for a rehearsal, Fitch suggested that they both kept their bathrobes on.

'Why?' Lola demanded. 'If we want to get this right, let's do it properly.' She stood up, shedding her bathrobe and handing it to the wardrobe woman, who gave her a fluffy white towel in exchange. Very slowly and sensuously she wrapped the towel around her almost naked body.

An audible gasp went around the crew. 'Holy cow!' the focus-puller muttered.

'What a woman!'

The scene took place in a bedroom, with Lola emerging from the bathroom clad only in the towel.

Fitch was settled behind the camera, issuing instructions. 'Linc, enter the shot, grab Lola, and as you both fall on the bed, take her towel away, making sure you block her body.'

'Think I can do that,' Linc said.

'Keep your bathrobe on until you get her to the bed, then she'll take it off you.'

'No, no!' Lola said heatedly. 'She rips it off him. This woman is impatient.'

'That's not how it's written in the script,' Fitch said.

'Words,' Lola scoffed. 'I know this character. This woman is passionate - like me. And since this is their first time together, she can't wait to feel the heat of his skin against hers.'

'We'll try it your way, Lola,' Fitch agreed, not about to argue with the fiery actress who seemed to know exactly what she was doing. 'That okay with you, Linc?'

'Sure,' Linc said.

The moment the scene started, Lola was all over him. As he started to pull the towel away from her, she grabbed him and they began kissing.

Linc immediately felt the beginning of an erection. This woman was some kisser, plus she had her almost naked body pressed against him real close, and he hadn't seen his wife in over a week.

After a few moments he knew he'd better slow things down. 'Somebody call cut,'

he yelled.

'This is a rehearsal,' Fitch said. 'What's your problem?'

'The colonel is saluting - if you get what I mean.'

The entire crew broke up laughing.

Lola smiled a slow, seductive smile. 'I'm sorry, Linc,' she said demurely. 'Is it something I did?'

'I'll get over it,' he said, unable to keep his eyes off her spectacular body.

'Don't feel embarrassed, it happens with most of my co-stars,' Lola murmured innocently. Hmm... Mr Blackwood. You're going to be easy...

'I'm sure it does,' he said. Christ! If Shelby knew about this she'd be most unhappy. He took Fitch to one side. 'This could be an ongoing problem,' he muttered.

'Your problem is my problem,' Fitch agreed. 'We should take a short break.'

'You mean-'

'Yeah,' Fitch said, man to man. 'I mean go take care of it and let's get this shot in the can.'

Lola had the best afternoon. Not only was Linc hot for her but so were the rest of the crew, staring and panting and probably all fantasizing about her. It put her in an excellent mood to meet Tony that night. She was primed and ready.

When Tony arrived at the hotel he had a minion call her suite to inform her that he was waiting in his limo downstairs. Lola was excited: hanging with Tony Alvarez was a kick. He surrounded himself with bodyguards and a mixed entourage of friends and hangers-on, creating a stir wherever he went. Tonight would be no different.

She took one last critical look in the mirror. Not much else she could do because, without false modesty, she knew she looked amazing. Her chestnut hair was swept up in a sexy tumble of curls, her Versace dress was fabulous, her Jimmy Choo stilettos emphasized her long legs, and her white mink coat and the sparkling diamond bracelet and earrings that Cartier had sent over that afternoon added major glamour. It was all good.

This was the first time since they'd got back together that she was seeing Tony as herself and not as one of their favourite play-acting characters.

Filled with sexual anticipation, she rode the elevator downstairs with Big Jay in close attendance. Once there, Big Jay escorted her through the lobby and outside to the sidewalk, where a sleek, white limousine waited. Tony had a thing for white limos, the bigger the better.

A bevy of photographers sprang forward. There was a rumour in the air that Tony Alvarez might be in the car.

'Who're you with, Lola?' called one of the photographers. 'Who's in the limo? Is it Tony?'

She smiled at the cameras and posed for a few fleeting seconds. 'Wouldn't you like to know?' she said, teasing them.

Then Big Jay guided her into the limo and slammed the door, leaving everyone wondering.

Tony was leaning back against the leather seat, smoking. He had on a pale beige Armani suit, a black silk shirt, plenty of Bling Bling, including an enormous diamond stud embedded in his earlobe. His teeth were whiter than white, his black hair curled over his collar. Lola was turned on just looking at him.

'I finally get to see the beautiful Lola Sanchez,' he drawled, flashing a sexy smile. 'The real Lola Sanchez.'

'I hear tell you've been meeting with several friends of mine,' she replied, also smiling.

'Ain't nothin' like the real thing.'

'Here I am,' she purred.

'Gotta say I missed you, babe,' he said, reaching out to pull her close. He smelt of a rich, musky aftershave.

'Careful,' she said, eluding him. 'I wouldn't want to get lipstick on you.'

He removed a white silk monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. 'Wipe it off. You know what I want.'

'This is not exactly private,' she said, indicating the driver and Tony's martial-arts bodyguard, both sitting up front.

Tony pressed a button, and the black dividing glass slid into place, separating them from everyone. 'C'mere, baby, an' do it just for me,' he coaxed, leaning even further back and unzipping his pants.

She obliged. What better way to start a memorable evening?

Chapter Twenty-One.

Shelby drove herself over the Canyon to meet Pete for lunch. She was not into bodyguards and minders, that wasn't her reality. And since she'd never had to deal with any serious threats from deranged fans, she still felt comfortable driving around on her own.

It was no big deal, even though Linc didn't like it when she took off to the dry-cleaner's or the market. 'We've got people to do that for us,' he'd said.

'No, Linc, you don't understand,' she'd explained. 'It's important for me to feel normal.'

'Sweetheart,' he'd insisted, 'you're not normal, you're a movie star, and movie stars have people who do everything for them. Okay?'

She begged to differ. She did not want to be one of those actresses who were surrounded by assistants and minders, publicists and stylists, with everyone laughing at her jokes and telling her how wonderful she was. Besides, she certainly had not regarded herself as a movie star until she had seen Rapture.

And even now, the term 'movie star' was far too Hollywood. She would much rather be regarded as an accomplished actress.

The night before, she'd spoken to Linc on the phone, omitting to mention that she'd run into Pete or their upcoming lunch. Linc wouldn't approve: he had a wild jealous streak, which he didn't exhibit often, but when he did, it was not pretty.

Actually, she saw nothing wrong in meeting up with Pete. He'd been a good friend to her when she'd first arrived in Hollywood, and she didn't see why they couldn't continue to be friends.

She was happy that Linc was obviously enjoying his movie in New York and seemed to be staying sober. It was good for him to be involved in a different kind of project. Perhaps it would force the critics to realize how talented he was.

'What's Lola Sanchez like?' she'd asked.

'A spitfire,' he'd replied. 'All the guys on the set are hot for her.'

'And you?' she'd asked teasingly.

'Me, honey? I'm a married man.'

She'd laughed softly. 'I'll be there next weekend. Can't wait to see you.'

'Don't overwork yourself,' he'd said.

'I'm not a delicate little flower, Linc,' she'd reminded him. 'I'm a big, strapping English girl.'

'Not so much with the strapping,' he'd said, with a quick laugh. 'I'll be waiting for you.'

'Linc?' she'd said hesitantly. 'Are you sure everything's okay?'

'Stop with the questions. If I wasn't okay, you'd hear it in my voice, right?'

'I suppose so.'

'You know so.'

'What are you doing every night?'

'Sitting around in my hotel playing cards and ordering room service. Exciting, huh?'

'I miss you,' she'd said wistfully.

'You too, sweetheart.'

She'd hung up, reassured that he was doing well. Yes, she realized, it was naive of her to think that a few days in a Malibu rehab centre had cured him of drinking for ever, but maybe this movie was what he needed. Something different, something to show the public that he was capable of more than over-the-top action films.

She parked her car in the lot next to Jerry's Deli, and entered the crowded delicatessen. Dressed in casual slacks and a silk shirt, large blackout sunglasses covering her eyes, and her long hair tied back in a ponytail, she could often get away with not being recognized.

Pete was already there. As soon as he saw her, he jumped up from his table and waved. She strolled over.

'You made it,' he said, obviously pleased.

'Yes,' she answered, dazzling him with her smile. 'All the way to the valley.

Aren't I a clever girl?'

'It's great to see you, Shelby,' he said, a touch awkward. 'I'm glad we're doing this.'

'So am I,' she said, settling into her seat as a waitress came over with menus.