He looked up from the notes he’d made in the margins of his script just as Tatiana walked onto the set, with Valentina flanking her from behind. It was difficult to keep his focus on his co-star when his every sense came alive around the woman who had started to mean so much to him, but if there was ever a time he needed to stay completely in tune with the younger Landon sister, it was now.

“Ready for our game of Twister?”

He was glad when she grinned at him. “You bet. Let’s do this thing.”

When Tatiana went to take her place on set, Smith felt Valentina touch his arm.

“I know you can’t go easy on her today,” she said, “and that you need to film the scene exactly as you wrote it, but—”

“I’m going to make this as painless as possible,” he vowed in a soft voice. “For all of us.”

But Valentina wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was staring at her sister’s back with such a bleak look in her eyes that he wanted desperately to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and swear to her that nothing that was going to happen on set today had a damn thing to do with what the two of them were building together.

Smith was a heartbeat from doing it, her protests and rules about keeping their affair secret be damned, when her eyes finally met his.

“I trust you with her.” She nodded as if trying to convince herself that what she was saying was true. “I really do.”

Considering her sister meant everything to her, her trust that he wouldn’t hurt Tatiana today meant a great deal to him.

But not nearly as much as it would have meant to know for sure that Valentina trusted him not to hurt her.

* * *

Valentina’s hands were clenched so tightly that the skin on her palms was shredded by her nails within minutes of Smith and Tatiana taking their places on the set. But she didn’t feel the physical pain, not when she could barely breathe past the tightness in her chest.

Smith said something that had her sister laughing and then, the next thing she knew, the cameras were running and Tatiana was in his arms, his mouth coming down over hers. In that moment that their mouths touched in passion for the first time, bile rose up so high and fast in Valentina’s throat that she had to cover her mouth with both hands and swallow hard to keep from actually being sick in front of everyone.

Again and again, the kiss was captured from different angles, but it never got easier for her to watch, never hurt any less to see her sister act like she was melting into Valentina’s real-life lover’s arms. It didn’t matter how many times Valentina reminded herself that it wasn’t real, that they were just acting, that their paychecks necessitated the kiss that never seemed to end.

But that endless kiss was better, so much better, than when the scene moved forward...and clothes started coming off as Smith and Tatiana moved together toward the bed in character.

Were it not for the promise she’d made her sister not to move an inch, Valentina would have run as far and as fast as she could. But she couldn’t. She had to stay right where she was, with a front-row seat to an onscreen seduction that was more than believable.

She all but forgot how to breathe as she watched Smith-as-Graham gently lower Tatiana-as-Jo onto the bed. His large hands stripped her out of her robe and he reverently stared down at her as though he was seeing beauty for the very first time.

Feeling as though a thousand knives had been thrust into every inch of her skin, Valentina couldn’t believe she wasn’t bleeding out all over the set. On and on the scene seemed to go, as her sister arched into his touch, as his mouth roamed over her skin and his hands followed everywhere he kissed.

Black spots were starting to dance in front of Valentina’s eyes when Smith abruptly lifted his head from her sister’s stomach and said, “Cut.” It was exactly the splash of cold water she needed, just enough of a break to keep her from sliding off the chair and onto the ground.

A moment later, both actors were off the bed and watching playback a few feet away from where Valentina was sitting.

Even without editing or effects, it was one of the most beautifully filmed love scenes she’d ever seen. Her heart was almost all the way broken in two by the realization that Smith was just as good in bed with her sister as he was with her—when she finally tuned in to the discussion the two most important people in her life were having.

“I need to remember to keep my eyes open in that part, don’t I?” Tatiana said. “Otherwise it looks like I’m grimacing rather than having a good time.”

Smith nodded. “Our hands are also off here. How about we try this instead?” He moved her hands to his shoulders, then slid his arms around her waist.

Valentina’s breath was just catching again when her sister said, “What about my legs? I feel like they’re just flopping around down there.”

The Director of Photography piped in with his suggestion about the best angle for shooting their lower extremities, and Valentina had a moment of clarity. She was watching the choreography of two bodies on film being done in real time. She’d seen it a hundred times over the years, knew that even in non-sex scenes there was important blocking, but she’d never thought anything of it. Because it hadn’t felt personal back then.

And she hadn’t wanted to keep one of the actors all to herself.

Chapter Twenty-two

Unfortunately, it turned out that a handful of moments of clear thinking didn’t go that far in a too-long day of watching Smith and Tatiana roll around on a bed with each other.

Hour after hour, Valentina tried to fight back the insidious thoughts, each one of them more and more convincing as they whispered that everything Smith had felt for her when she was lying beneath him, he now would start feeling for her sister, too.

And how could she possibly discount the fact that he was an actor? One of the best she’d ever seen. Smith could convince any woman on earth that he had feelings for her. He wouldn’t even have to try to have half the population falling at his feet and begging him not to leave them as they pathetically cried how much they loved him.

Even when he swore that he wasn’t acting with her, that he never had...well, how could she possibly trust that?

Only a fool would trust a world-class actor.

A fool who was that desperate to be wanted. To be desired. But most of all, to be loved.

When, at long last, filming ended for the day, every muscle in Valentina’s body hurt. She couldn’t have faked a smile, couldn’t have gotten up from her seat without toppling over, not when her limbs felt numb, lifeless.