in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me what you want for your birthday. What will make you happy?” A large smile covered her face. “I know. I’ll cast a happiness spell.”
Izzy choked out a half-laugh and sniffled. “Thanks, but unless you’ve got a reverse-the-past spell in your book, I’ll just settle for dinner and drinks.”
“The past?”
“I want my old Ian back, our old life back. That would make me happy.”
Celeste’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. Why didn’t I think of this before?” She spun on her heel and dug through her bag. “I need candles, my gris-gris, some of your hair— I can get that from the brush…” Her words were lost as she scurried back and forth collecting what she needed.
Happiness spell. Sure, whatever. Bring it on.
A knock rattled the door. “They’re ready for you on set, Izzy.”
“Be right there.” She sucked in a deep breath, then walked to the full length mirror and checked her costume.
Smoothing the skirt of her voluminous dress, she patted the powdered wig that covered her short, platinum blond hair. Did she look like an English Lady? Close enough to be manhandled by a pirate, then thrown overboard by an explosion.
She turned to Celeste. “I’ll see you tonight then. Dinner and drinks.”
Her dark head popped up, her expression as if she’d forgotten Izzy’s presence. “Maybe you will see me. Maybe not. If this spell works…then not.” Celeste winked.
“Right. I’ll see you tonight.” She opened the door.
“Wait!” Celeste ran across the room. “Remember, second chances are rare. If you get one, don’t run. Fight for what you want.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “All right.”
“No. Promise me you won’t take the easy way out.” Celeste squeezed her hand.
“Okay. I promise. Now I’ve got to go.”
Stepping from the trailer, Izzy swallowed the knot in her throat and walked to the set. The dock was a hive of activity as people hurried to finish last minute details. Fire trucks and ambulances set ready, along with a couple of police cars for crowd control. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky as she climbed aboard the mock ship.
She could handle this. The pyro-tech checked everything this morning. Still, doubts niggled the back of her mind. Ian had been so sure that Daniel Roberts was an unsafe director and Izzy would end up like Alicia. Dead. But after three months of filming, a broken fingernail was the extent of her injuries.
The small ship pitched in the water, the creaking wood a now familiar, comforting sound. Built to scale, the bow of the pirate vessel was rigged to blow apart just as Izzy made her escape from the evil captain and ran toward the foremast. When she reached the rail, the ship would explode, the blast throwing her into the ocean.
She paced to the stern in an attempt to calm her nerves. Blocking out the surrounding noise, she tried to ignore the sweat trickling down her back and how the wig made her head itch. Instead she concentrated on the water and the gulls that lazily circled the pier.
Her gaze followed the row of buildings and wandered up into the hills where
houses perched, taunting nature to knock them off. She and Ian used to dream of buying a home up there, a place where they could curl up in a chaise and watch the sun set, sip wine and make love under the stars…
With a sigh she turned— then spun back. A tall man across the dock caught her eye. A tall, sexy-as-sin man. Thick, black hair brushed wide shoulders. Tight, well-worn jeans molded long legs.
Ian.
God, he was here. The blood heated her veins as her heart beat triple-time. Why had he come? To talk? To wish her happy birthday? To ask her to rip-up the papers? Frustration tightened her shoulders. Why now when she had to start filming? Why hadn’t he come to her trailer earlier?
Tearing her gaze from his muscled body, she gulped several deep breaths. Damn it . The sight of him still made her panties
Izzy choked out a half-laugh and sniffled. “Thanks, but unless you’ve got a reverse-the-past spell in your book, I’ll just settle for dinner and drinks.”
“The past?”
“I want my old Ian back, our old life back. That would make me happy.”
Celeste’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. Why didn’t I think of this before?” She spun on her heel and dug through her bag. “I need candles, my gris-gris, some of your hair— I can get that from the brush…” Her words were lost as she scurried back and forth collecting what she needed.
Happiness spell. Sure, whatever. Bring it on.
A knock rattled the door. “They’re ready for you on set, Izzy.”
“Be right there.” She sucked in a deep breath, then walked to the full length mirror and checked her costume.
Smoothing the skirt of her voluminous dress, she patted the powdered wig that covered her short, platinum blond hair. Did she look like an English Lady? Close enough to be manhandled by a pirate, then thrown overboard by an explosion.
She turned to Celeste. “I’ll see you tonight then. Dinner and drinks.”
Her dark head popped up, her expression as if she’d forgotten Izzy’s presence. “Maybe you will see me. Maybe not. If this spell works…then not.” Celeste winked.
“Right. I’ll see you tonight.” She opened the door.
“Wait!” Celeste ran across the room. “Remember, second chances are rare. If you get one, don’t run. Fight for what you want.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “All right.”
“No. Promise me you won’t take the easy way out.” Celeste squeezed her hand.
“Okay. I promise. Now I’ve got to go.”
Stepping from the trailer, Izzy swallowed the knot in her throat and walked to the set. The dock was a hive of activity as people hurried to finish last minute details. Fire trucks and ambulances set ready, along with a couple of police cars for crowd control. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky as she climbed aboard the mock ship.
She could handle this. The pyro-tech checked everything this morning. Still, doubts niggled the back of her mind. Ian had been so sure that Daniel Roberts was an unsafe director and Izzy would end up like Alicia. Dead. But after three months of filming, a broken fingernail was the extent of her injuries.
The small ship pitched in the water, the creaking wood a now familiar, comforting sound. Built to scale, the bow of the pirate vessel was rigged to blow apart just as Izzy made her escape from the evil captain and ran toward the foremast. When she reached the rail, the ship would explode, the blast throwing her into the ocean.
She paced to the stern in an attempt to calm her nerves. Blocking out the surrounding noise, she tried to ignore the sweat trickling down her back and how the wig made her head itch. Instead she concentrated on the water and the gulls that lazily circled the pier.
Her gaze followed the row of buildings and wandered up into the hills where
houses perched, taunting nature to knock them off. She and Ian used to dream of buying a home up there, a place where they could curl up in a chaise and watch the sun set, sip wine and make love under the stars…
With a sigh she turned— then spun back. A tall man across the dock caught her eye. A tall, sexy-as-sin man. Thick, black hair brushed wide shoulders. Tight, well-worn jeans molded long legs.
Ian.
God, he was here. The blood heated her veins as her heart beat triple-time. Why had he come? To talk? To wish her happy birthday? To ask her to rip-up the papers? Frustration tightened her shoulders. Why now when she had to start filming? Why hadn’t he come to her trailer earlier?
Tearing her gaze from his muscled body, she gulped several deep breaths. Damn it . The sight of him still made her panties
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