John scratched the back of his neck. His cheeks flushed. “They’re married now.”

Anna couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Uh, is someone going to call cut? This is an R-rated movie, not X,” Cole said loudly.

Anna called cut. She didn’t miss John’s answering smile.

Chapter Seventeen

The next day, John walked through the empty soundstage to the production office tucked into the back. He had arrived on set early, hoping to get some work done before shooting started. John needed to deal with a supply issue for fake blood, the art director asking for more money for the medieval castle exterior set, and the costume designer had commandeered most of his spare clothes for Derek.

Yesterday had been a long day. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize Nicole and Derek’s past hookup had gone wrong. Derek was basically a decent guy, but he was completely incapable of communication. John had found a way for the actor to talk it through with lightness rather than awkwardness. Nicole had responded with appreciative acceptance. Rather than a love affair for the ages, the two actors’ Rome romance was built on their mutual attraction and location shoot convenience.

Nothing about my attraction to Anna is convenient. So far, they had worked well together. He needed to keep it professional so that the good working relationship continued. The shoot depended on it.

He opened the office door to find Anna behind the desk, stifling a yawn as she drank her coffee. She looked as tired as he felt, but he should have known she would arrive before he did. She looked up from her laptop and smiled when she saw him. She wore her usual gray T-shirt and dark-green anorak jacket. Her cap was pushed up, giving her a disheveled air.

“You’re here early,” Anna said, leaning back in her chair. “Everything okay?”

“I have a call with the line producer in Los Angeles in a few minutes.” He carried two boxes, a bag of fake blood, and a pile of papers. “Budget stuff.”

“This late?”

Anna wasn’t wrong. It was nine in the evening there. “Only time I could get on his schedule.”

To give himself something to do, he sat in the uncomfortable chair in front of the desk. She glanced at the pages on the desk, narrowing her eyes to read the title.

“Your script?”

“It won’t interfere with work, but I got a few notes.” Tom’s assistant had sent them after John arrived in Rome. This was the first time he’d needed to reconcile his script with someone else’s notion of what the movie should be.

“You’ve got someone interested?” she asked, the joy in her voice unmistakable.