Robyn got some wiggle room and elbowed Dakota in the ribs. He finally let her go. She smiled approvingly at Stephanie. 'That's a great choice. Mr Scott will be very comfortable there and the commute is short for him to walk.'

'Walk?' Stephanie looked aghast. 'No one "walks" in LA. It's, like, just not done.'

Dakota eyed Robyn. 'She does have a point, you know. I don't want to fill my lungs with all that smog.'

'Oh yeah, I forgot about your delicate const.i.tution,' Robyn muttered before flashing Stephanie another of those false smiles. 'What time would you like Mr Scott on set tomorrow?'

Stephanie consulted her clipboard, her expression fl.u.s.tered. 'Six a.m. would be good. He can go straight into make-up.'

'Make-up?' Dakota looked at Robyn, 'I don't need make-up.'

She patted his arm. 'Yes you do. n.o.body's perfect.'

'He looks quite perfect to me,' Stephanie gushed and then cleared her throat as Robyn frowned at her. 'OK, then, the guard will show you where to park your horse rig and I'll get your pa.s.ses.'

Dakota touched the brim of his Stetson. 'Thanks, darlin', we'll meet you back here.'

Stephanie's blush deepened and she wiggled her fingers at Dakota as she hurried away. Robyn climbed back into the truck and Dakota followed her. He started the engine and waited for the security guard to reappear.

'Stephanie seems like a nice girl.'

'Stephanie is an idiot whose IQ probably matches the thirty-eight bra size of her fake b.o.o.bs.'

'How do you know they're fake?'

She shot him a withering glance. 'Nearly every woman in LA has fake b.o.o.bs. It's expected. It goes with the perfect teeth and size-zero body.'

Dakota's interested gaze fastened on Robyn's chest and he opened his mouth.

She held up one finger. 'Don't even say it, buddy. Mine are all real.'

'I knew that. I know what fake b.o.o.bs feel like. You're not the only woman I've slept with. Stephanie's just young. I bet you giggled a bit at that age.'

'I never giggle.'

Dakota eased the truck forward. 'Yeah, you do. I remember you giggling a lot when I was licking that chocolate pudding off your b.r.e.a.s.t.s.'

'That's different. That's s.e.x. I'm allowed to giggle during s.e.x.'

'That's the kind of comment that could put a man off, you know.'

She patted his knee. 'It's OK, I was giggling with you, not at you.'

Dakota parked up against the tattered chain-link fence, turned off the engine and looked at Robyn. The smile on her face died as he took her hand.

'Robyn, did I do the wrong thing, saying you're my a.s.sistant?'

She shrugged. 'I'm not sure. There probably won't be anyone in this small company who has a clue who I used to be. I think we'll be OK.'

Despite her reply, he could sense she was still on edge. He squeezed her hand. 'I just wanted to keep you close.'

Her smile returned and her face softened. 'That's OK. I understand, I want to stay with you too.'

Dakota stared into her eyes. He wasn't kidding. He didn't think he could let her walk away from him yet. It was an enormous relief to hear her admit she felt the same. Every time he looked at her he had that strange sensation of being caught up in a whirlwind of emotions he had no idea how to control, let alone stop.

'Dakota?'

He realized Robyn was waving her hand in front of his face.

'Yeah?'

'Shall we go and get our bags?'

He nodded and took off his seat belt. 'Let's do that. I can't wait to get to the hotel.' He risked another sideways glance at her. 'You know that's the second time today you've pa.s.sed up the opportunity to be sarcastic to me.'

Robyn paused as she got out of the truck. 'You're right. I'll make it up to you later.'

'Maybe my niceness is rubbing off on you.'

He couldn't see her as she walked to the door at the side of the horse rig, but her snort was all too audible. He found the keys and unlocked the door. Their bags stood ready on the carpet by the small table.

'I'll get them, honey.'

Robyn held the door open for him as he returned with the bags. She shook her head as he pa.s.sed her.

'You really need to work on that att.i.tude, Dakota. No real movie star would ever be seen carrying his own bags.'

'I'm no movie star. I'm just an overeducated cowboy.' He hoisted the larger bag on to his shoulder and adjusted his grip on the other. 'Can you take the keys and lock the door?'

He started walking, aware that Robyn was still staring at him. She had no idea how uncomfortable the whole idea of appearing in the boot commercial made him. The only reason he was doing it was to help his half-brother out and, if he was honest, finance a large chunk of his master's degree.

Robyn caught up with him and he slowed his pace. A silver Mercedes had pulled up beside the guard's booth.

'Wow, Jay really has gone crazy,' he muttered as Stephanie waved at him.

'What's wrong now?' Robyn asked.

'We get to ride in a Mercedes. I always thought Jay was the tight-fisted one in the family.'

'He probably didn't order the car. That would be the production company and Stephanie obviously believes you deserve only the best.'

Dakota winked at Robyn. 'I just figured out why you're being nice to me.'

'Really?' She raised her eyebrows, her expression challenging.

'It's simple. You're jealous of Stephanie.' He didn't wait to see the effect of his words. He simply picked up speed and hurried toward the car. After a quick word with the driver he stowed the bags in the trunk and turned to Stephanie. To his relief, Robyn was already in the car.

'Thanks Stephanie. You've been great.' He shook her hand, offered her his best smile.

'No problem, Mr Scott, it was a pleasure, a real pleasure.' Stephanie glanced at the car and lowered her voice. 'If you'd like to come out for a drink sometime, just call me.' She slid a business card into Dakota's shirt pocket.

He blinked at her and took a step back. Hadn't he made it obvious that he and Robyn were a couple?

'Thanks for the offer, but Robyn keeps me pretty busy, you know.'

Stephanie fluttered her eyelashes at him. 'I'm sure she does, but if you ever want to change it up, give me a call.'

Dakota decided to shut up and get in the car.

Chapter Thirteen.

'Dakota, can you just relax your right shoulder? You look a little tense.'

Dakota turned slightly toward the arc of blinding lights. How in h.e.l.l had he gotten into this? He felt like some sort of cheap mannequin, slathered in make-up, his hair coated with a can of hairspray, and as for his chest . . .

'Dakota?'

'I think Mr Scott needs a moment.'

Robyn's confident voice came out of the glare and she walked toward him. He tried to smile at her but was worried he might dislodge the goop they'd slapped on his face. She touched his arm.

'What's wrong?'

'It's all frickin' wrong.' Dakota gave up and scowled good and hard. 'How am I supposed to act like a rough and tough cowboy when I look like Barbie's boy toy, Ken?'

She looked him up and down. 'What's wrong? You look OK to me.'

He shoved a finger in the air. 'One, most cowboys do not go to work without their shirts on and, two, none of them oil their chests!'

'But it makes your muscles gleam in the sun.'

He bent toward her, caught her quick smile. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?'

'Kind of.'

'Well, I'm not. I feel like a freak.'

She put her sungla.s.ses on top of her head and gazed into his eyes, her expression serious. 'All you have to do for this shot is pick up your saddle from the top of the log fence and toss it into the back of your pickup truck.'

'I'd never toss a saddle, they're way too expensive.'

She sighed. 'But this is make-believe and it's not even your saddle. Just pretend you've got your shirt on, forget about everyone else around you and move the saddle, got it?'

He folded his arms and leant back against the fence. 'Wow, that's really helpful. I can see why you were such a fabulous actress.'

'At least I learnt to take advice.'

He dragged a hand through his hair, dislodging all the careful waves. 's.h.i.t, Robyn, I'm just . . . I'm just out of my depth here. When I did the magazine ads I just had to sit there and show off the boots.'

'Then do what I said. Pretend you're at home. Forget about the audience and do what they ask you to.'

He found himself smiling at her determined face. 'But what's my motivation?'

'Money?' She put her sungla.s.ses back on. 'The desire to get this done without 300 takes? Whatever works for you.'

She turned to walk away and he touched her shoulder. 'I'm OK now. Tantrum over. I'll get it done.'

'Good for you. I promise you'll enjoy the oil later.'

Dakota let out his breath and turned back to Joe the director. Joe stared at him and then shouted into his microphone, 'Make-up! He needs more oil on his chest and undo the top b.u.t.ton of his jeans, that'll look real s.e.xy.'

Dakota groaned and watched the make-up artists run toward him like vultures to a corpse. More oil, more s.e.x appeal. Wasn't the commercial supposed to be about cowboy boots? He sure hoped Jay was going to pay him well for his trouble. It was the last time he was going to do something nice for a family member for a long time.

Robyn glanced sideways at Dakota as he slumped in the back of the Mercedes, booted feet splayed out in front of him. He looked dog-tired and smelt of baby oil and warm leather. She reached out and slid a finger between the b.u.t.tons of his shirt. He'd looked so hot today, dressed only in a faded pair of jeans and fancy cowboy boots. All the women in the film production company had come out to take a look at him doing his thing.

Even better, no one had seemed to recognize her. She'd kept her sungla.s.ses on most of the day and braided her hair tightly to her head. It had even been fun to see the process from the sidelines again, to hear the director's shouts, the film crew's awful jokes and watch Dakota suffer.

How strange that after all this time she could admit that she actually missed some of the things she'd been forced to do as a child. She nursed a small glow of pride. With all her film experience, she'd helped Dakota a little and translated between him and the director.

What Dakota didn't seem to realize was that on film he had a natural presence. One's eye was drawn to him as he moved around the set. She'd heard the comments of the director and his crew, their surprise at Dakota's ability and their growing excitement.

'G.o.d, I'm tired,' Dakota said.

'From standing around looking pretty all day?'

He grunted and opened an eye. 'I had to do that first take thirty times. Have you ever hefted a saddle before? They're d.a.m.ned heavy.'

'But you got better with each take.'

'Yeah, once I stopped worrying about my jeans falling down and all that c.r.a.p on my face sliding off.'

She took his hand. 'Wow, you are quite the charmer this evening, aren't you?'

He turned his head to look at her. 'And you sound just like me. What's happened? Have we entered a parallel universe?'

'This is LA, baby, a.k.a. la-la land.'

She sc.r.a.ped her fingernail along his warm oiled flesh and he shuddered.

'And where the h.e.l.l was Jay? He was the one griping about me getting here on time.'