L.A. Cinderella by Amanda Berry

on her heart. Though she wasn’t apart of the gossip mill at Pandora Productions, she was certain someone would have mentioned that particular trait of Chase’s. Or Rachel would have told her, since that kind of behavior wouldn’t have escaped the attention of people like Jared Anderson. Why would a reporter call her?
    Chase’s hand lightly brushed the small of her back, guiding her to his car. Her breath caught, and she stumbled a little. He gripped her elbow to steady her.
    He stopped them. After a moment, she looked up at his chin.
    “Are you okay?”
    No . “I’m fine.” She pressed her glasses back up her nose and examined the concrete beneath her feet.
    When he didn’t continue to the car after a few moments, she dared a peek up at him. The wind tousled his blond hair, giving him that just-rolled-out-of-bed look. Her hair whipped loose from its clip and slapped her across the face.
    “Do you ever say how you really feel?” His hand smoothed her loose hair behind her ear. His touch sent tingles coursing through her body. He glanced over her shoulder and frowned.
    She followed his gaze and saw Mr. Morrison standing next to the door, cigarette in hand. He lifted his hand and waved. Chase’s lips tightened, but he didn’t say anything, just steered her toward the car again.
     
    Chase remained silent while they were shown to a private corner booth. They’d come in the back entrance and hadn’t drawn any attention.
    Sliding into the seat, Natalie knocked over an empty glass. Chase caught it before it rolled to the floor. Her skin flushed pink as he slid in after her.
    The table was small, but she tucked herself as far awayfrom him as possible. He didn’t know whether to be frustrated or to laugh. What he really wanted to do was pull her back into his arms and keep her there for several hours. But he knew they’d both be better off if they repaired their working relationship and forgot about the tantalizing prospect of that kiss. At least until this mess with Martin was over.
    She picked at the napkin and stared at the menu.
    The sweet, clean smell of her lingered in his nose. His fingertips itched to turn her face up to his. He cleared his throat. Her gaze leapt up to his, her eyes wide and wary.
    “Do you know what you want?” He smiled, trying to reassure her and calm her down.
    Her eyes widened further, and she leaned away from him. She looked like she was ready to bolt.
    “To eat, Natalie. What do you want to eat?” He picked up his menu. “I typically get shrimp scampi, but everything here is really good.”
    “I’m sure it is.” Her eyes darted back to the menu. How could he make her relax?
    The waiter stopped by and filled their glasses. They both ordered, and he left, leaving them quite alone in the secluded booth.
    She started to fiddle with her fork. He laid his hand over hers, stilling her fidgeting. Her eyes were warm pools of chocolate as they met his, but her body tensed.
    “I’m not going to pounce on you.”
    Panic and disappointment warred on her face before her shoulders dropped slightly. “I know,” she said, as if she knew he’d never do something like that.
    He wanted to shake her. His whole body ached to pull her into his arms again and prove to her that even though he said he wouldn’t, he wanted to.
    “Natalie.” He waited for her eyes to meet his again.“You are a very attractive woman. No, don’t deny it. I find you incredibly attractive, but—”
    “There’s always a but,” she said under her breath.
    He blew out a breath and took a drink of water. He’d never have this much difficulty on a set. Everything was scripted already. He knew exactly how the other person was going to react. Natalie eluded him. He couldn’t figure out her character, couldn’t put her into a category.
    “As I was saying, you work for my company. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you last night.” He should say he’d never do it again, but something stilled his tongue.
    The