Yet again he was surprised by how nice it was not to have to explain his life to her. It was why so many people in the entertainment industry ended up together. No one else could really understand what it was like unless they’d lived through it themselves. Yes, she’d said she didn’t like being in the spotlight, but the fact that she’d helped Tatiana deal with them for so many years meant Valentina would also be adept at avoiding them. She’d know exactly where to look for them, how to outwit them, and when there was no choice, how to gracefully give in to them for an hour or two.
“What can I get you to drink?” He gestured to the fully stocked bar.
“Sparkling water would be lovely, thank you.”
He poured two glasses and joined her where she was standing at the rail staring out at the dark water. Just then Billy got them underway and the sudden movement jolted them enough that she fell back into his chest. Finally getting to hold her, it struck him yet again how surprisingly soft and curvy she was against him.
“Steadier now?”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. “I think so.”
“And are you warm enough?”
“I am now.”
He wanted to bury his face in her hair to breathe her in, wanted to lower his mouth to the sweet curve of her neck, wanted to taste her soft skin. Instead, he reminded himself that one hand on the small of her back, the other holding hers to keep it warm, would have to be enough for now. Until she asked for more.
In silence, he held her as the boat sped across the Bay toward the infamous prison.
* * *
A National Park official stood on the island’s pier as they docked. “Welcome to Alcatraz.” The gray-haired man, who introduced himself as Sam Maines, had a deep, commanding voice that gave extra gravity to the historic maximum-security prison. He was a man who looked as comfortable on the rocks as the prison guards from a half-century ago must have.
As he helped Valentina disembark from the yacht, Smith made a mental note to get Sam’s contact information for the next time he needed a strong, steady, gray-haired man in a film. Not to mention the fact that the man’s eyes hadn’t so much as flickered when he’d seen who Smith was.
The night, he thought as the wind blew across them and Valentina instinctively leaned in closer to him for warmth, was just getting better and better. He loved the fact that she didn’t make even the slightest move to pull her hand from his as they followed the guide up past the Officer’s Club toward the south entrance.
“Alcatraz was cold,” Sam told them. “Harsh. Unforgiving. And it was also home to the families of the guards who kept it running.”
Smith had always been interested in history, especially one as colorful as this one. But tonight he was far more interested in the way Valentina ate up the stories Sam told them about the way Al Capone made several attempts to con the Warden into giving him the special privileges he’d had at other prisons...but was denied at Alcatraz.
Smith didn’t know if she realized it, but whenever she heard something really interesting, she gave his hand a squeeze.
After thirty minutes or so, Sam led them into the cellhouse building. When they came to the main block of cells, known as Broadway, all three of them stood in silence as they took in the forbidding bars, the cement cells.
“I’ll leave you two to explore for a few minutes.”
As soon as they were alone and walking together down the middle of the cells, Valentina said, “Can you hear them?”
Yes, he could hear the same echoes in the silence that she obviously did. “It’s like the men were here yesterday instead of fifty years ago.”
She read the plaque on the wall where they’d stopped. “Three men plotted their escape right here.” She let go of his hand as she moved into the cell, to get a closer look at the hole in the cement. “Just think, they spent months whittling away at the cement. Everyone told them it was impossible.” Smith moved in behind her as she turned to ask him, “Do you think they made it after all?”
“That water is pretty cold. What do you think happened?”
“I’m sure they belonged in prison, and that the crimes they’d committed were wrong, but I still can’t but hope they made it out of the water alive.” She gave him a crooked smile. “And that they made the most of the years they’d stolen back for themselves.”
Smith knew most people would be surprised to find out that Valentina was a secret romantic. But he’d known it about her almost from the start. That first day on set when he and Tatiana had stopped filming and the two of them had immediately dropped out of character, Valentina’s eyes had stayed soft and clouded over with emotion long after the cameras had stopped rolling.
Without warning, the prison cell doors slid shut behind them. Valentina automatically jumped into his arms as she let out a surprised—and slightly panicky—laugh.
“Did you know Sam was going to do that?”
“No.” But he had just decided to give Sam the tip of a lifetime for coming up with this brilliant plan. Smith looked down at Valentina. “Puts a whole different spin on things when the doors close, doesn’t it?”
Her eyes were bright, and so damn beautiful, as she stared up at him. “Yes,” she breathed. “Different.”
He’d never break a promise to her in a million years, but that didn’t mean he could stop himself from lowering his face to hers. Her cheek was so soft against his. He barely stifled a groan as she reached up to wind her arms around his neck.
“How long do you think he’ll keep us locked up?”
Her whisper against his ear had him harder than he’d ever been in his life. He slid his hands slowly down her back until they rested just above the curve of her hips.
“Not long enough,” he answered with perfect honesty.
She shifted against him so that she could stare up at him and he held his breath as he took in the clear desire on her face.
Lord, he wanted to kiss her. She was fire in his arms, heating up the cold cell with the press of her curves against him. Her lips opened and he was sure that she was just about to ask him for a second kiss, when the heavy sound of footsteps broke the heady silence.
Before Valentina could pull out of his arms, he lowered his mouth as close as he could to hers without touching it and whispered, “Not even close to long enough.”