Chapter 2

I glanced at Mark, wondering why he was so quiet all of a sudden. He'd been entertaining on the drive to the restaurant. Since he was more familiar with the area, he'd picked the restaurant. He wasn't full of chatter, but just pointing out interesting things I might like to see or do while we were in town but suddenly everything was quiet, silent as a tomb. The silence lengthened, becoming a little uncomfortable. What was it about him that made me so . . .aware of him? I shifted uneasily in the seat, wishing this lunch meeting was over with.

"So does your boyfriend object to the traveling we do?" His deep voice suddenly cut the silence, causing me to jump.

"So where's your wife?"

We both spoke at the same time, and then glanced out the windshield, wondering which one of us was going to answer first. The silence lengthened. Finally giving up, I answered.

"No, he doesn't have a lot to say about it." Especially since he dumped me when I got my dream job, I added silently. But he doesn't have to know everything. I turned to face him, staring at him silently.

Mark could feel her stare, could feel those deep blue eyes eating him until he wanted to just beg her to stop, to look the other way. She had no idea what she was doing, no idea the way she was affecting him. And he had to keep it that way. He cleared his throat, deciding to give her an abbreviated answer. "Sara is at home. The baby keeps her busy and when I can, I go home." I go home and get the cold shoulder from my wife and warm, sloppy kisses from my daughter he added. But she doesn't have to know everything.

"Hmm," I murmured, staring out the window, steadfastly refusing to look at him. "So where are we going?" I asked, determined to get on neutral, safe ground.

Mark shifted, watching traffic for a second before making a left hand turn without signaling. He ignored the horns blaring behind them and never let off the accelerator. "There's a nice restaurant over here that some of us go to when we're in town. There's a nice selection, you should find something you like," he muttered, pulling into a spot in the crowded parking lot.

I glanced at him, wondering if there was some hidden meaning behind his muttered comment. Rather than make something of it, I turned away, gathering my purse to get out of the car. I might find some food I'd like. . . because the company left a lot to be desired.

"Mr. Calloway, sir, right this way."

I glanced at the short little bald man holding the door for us. I expected the little man to bend down and kiss Mark's hand or his feet or watch him walk on water, something. Instead he just held the door and bowed as Mark walked through. I rolled my eyes as we walked by him into the restaurant. Unfortunately Mark turned around and caught me in the act. Laughing, he reached out and caught my arm, leading me forward into the restaurant.

"Come on before he loses his balance and falls over," he whispered, tugging me into the dark interior of the restaurant.

I glanced back at the round little man who smiled and waved and I tried not to laugh. I didn't want to be amused. Mark was THE UNDERTAKER, he was a conceited oaf and I didn't want to like him. And then I looked up and saw the laughter on his face, saw the smile and then he turned and bowed back to the little man at the door . . .and a little of my resentment of his high handedness melted away.

I laughed again, sipping the cold beer I held cradled between my hands. "You've got to be kidding me! You actually locked him in the casket?"

Mark chuckled, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere . . .and the company. "Well, yeah. It wasn't a real casket. Just one of those fake ones we'd had made up for the match. But he kept working the match a little stiff and I knew it was because he was scared of the casket, death really freaked him out, so I tried to be understanding but. . ." Mark paused and shrugged at her raised eyebrow, "Yeah I know – the thought of dying doesn't do a lot for me either. But for weeks we'd done these promos about me burying him in that casket and everything and it was getting to him. We went through the match, move by move and he knew what was going to happen. I was supposed to lose, it was supposed to be me in the casket. But he kept getting stiffer and stiffer. . ." Mark's voice trailed off and he took a drink of his own beer, giving her a wry look, "so what do you do with a stiff but stick 'em in a coffin?"

I closed my eyes, feeling the irritating burn of beer going up my nose as his words echoed in my mind.

"Beth?"

I heard his voice, heard the questioning tone and opened my eyes, smiling at him. "Just picturing him in my mind, locked in that casket until they got him to the back and could get him out." I shook my head wryly, laughing with him, enjoying the amusement that shone from his hazel eyes. After a few minutes, I caught myself staring into his eyes, the amusement fading. My smile slowly slid away and I abruptly set my beer back on the table. "I think it's time we went back to the office, don't you?" Turning, I started gathering my jacket and purse.

Mark caught himself staring at the woman across from him, wondering at her abrupt change of mood. One minute they were laughing, getting along just fine and the next she was tense and ready to push him out the door. Shaking his head, he stood up and pulled her chair out, helping her on with her jacket and casually tossing a few bills on the table before grasping her elbow and starting for the door. In a matter of minutes they were on their way back to the office.

I looked out the car window, watching the scenery as it flashed by in a blur. Trying to decide exactly what I was feeling. I rubbed a hand across my eyes, keeping my face turned away from him and my eyes locked on scenery passing the passenger window. There for a second, just a split second, there'd been an attraction between us. I'd seen the flare of desire in his eyes as well, had felt the tightening sensation in the pit of my stomach. That was the reason for the abrupt departure. He was married. He was a happily married man. What in the hell was I thinking?

"Well, what are we going to do?"

I jerked my head around, my eyes wide at his question. "What do you mean?" Had he read my mind? Did he know I'd been attracted to him? Was he going to say something? I felt my heart pounding, felt my palms sweating and tried to wipe them on my skirt without him noticing.

He frowned, looking at me questioningly. "We need to have a meeting and discuss where my character needs to go. We need a good storyline for my comeback, something that the fans can really get behind. That's what Vince was saying right before we left." He smiled, "You know when you were dreaming about having your hands wrapped around my throat?"

I forced a smile, grateful that he had pulled the conversation back on a business setting. I ignored the reference about choking him. "Oh, um, sure. Give me a couple of days and I'll come up with something for you. Vince just told me he had someone special he wanted me to write for but he hadn't told me the character yet. Today was the first I'd heard it would be you."

Mark arched a brow, giving her a questioning look but decided to keep his mouth shut. Surely Vince would have said something before now. He wouldn't have just sprung something this big on . . .Mark shook his head. Yes, Vince would. He liked surprises. "Damn, he just sprung it on you huh? No wonder you looked like you had murder in mind right before we left."

I eased back in the seat, trying to focus on the conversation instead of on the way his hands easily controlled the powerful car, picturing them on me instead. I closed my eyes, trying to blot out the sight, realizing, finally admitting to myself why I'd avoided meeting this man since I'd come to work here. Oh I'd seen him backstage off and on – but every time there had been even the off chance we'd run in to each other and I might actually have to speak to him – I'd go the other way. Now I know why. Self-preservation. The man got me thoroughly hot and bothered. And he belonged to another woman. God damn it.

"What's wrong, Beth?"

Blearily I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly to glance at Mark. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Seeing the disbelief on his face, I could tell he was about to argue with me so I rushed to cut him off, "I was just going over some scenes in my mind, trying to figure out the best storyline to bring you back into the hunt for the title." I consoled myself with the thought that it wasn't exactly a lie – I had thought of that for all of five seconds –but then I'd moved onto bigger and better things - -like his hands sliding over me, pulling me close as his lips closed over mine. . . I groaned.

"You say something else, Beth?"

I jerked around and looked at him, seeing mere curiosity in his eyes. He had no idea what was running through my mind."Um, wasn't that our turn back there?"

He looked and then cussed and looked for a place to turn around.