Prince of the Playhouse Read Online Free PDF

He just kept staring at Ru. “Do you know your eyes are almost the color of a cat’s?”
    “And yours are like the sky before a storm.”
    Stand still, time. Don’t let him move, ever. So close that warm breath from Gray’s perfect lips fluttered over Ru’s cheek.
    The door to the theater opened, and Tilda, the girl playing Ophelia, burst in. “They told me you want to see me next. Can we make it quick?”
    Gray turned instantly away, grabbed his jacket, and headed straight out the back door. “Thanks. See ya.”
    Just like that, the best moment of Ru’s life ended. Maybe he’d costume Ophelia in a fucking garbage bag.
     
     
    GRAY STOOD outside the back door to the theater and breathed. Damn, why did I do this? When Mrs. Atchison and the Playhouse board approached his manager, Benson had politely called them crazy, but Gray intervened. He’d been flattered they thought he could do it, and he wanted a challenge. Hell, every critic and reviewer in the country would be clamoring to see it. Now, just staring at the pages of the script made his palms sweat. Who the hell did he think he was? Laurence Olivier? Shit! He got paid to crash and burn, but not like this.
    And now, add in Ru Maitland. Hair like midnight. Eyes like liquid chocolate. So powerful he melted the floor under Gray’s feet—and so dangerous that running back to explosions and gunfire looked like the easy way out.

Chapter Four
     
     
    A WEEK later, Ru sat in a theater seat a few rows behind the director and sketched as the actors, with a stand-in for Hamlet, walked through blocking. He’d draw a few lines, then flip the page and go back to his impromptu portrait of Gray Anson, now that he’d seen that face up close. Ru drew in the tiny lines that popped out around his eyes when he smiled. He must smile a lot, because at only twenty-five, he didn’t have any age lines. Jesus, how could the man be so much prettier than he was on the screen? No fair, dammit.
    “Let’s take a short break, everyone,” the director called from his perch in midaudience.
    Ru flipped the page back to the costume drawings and looked busy, which shouldn’t have been hard to do, since he could start working on them now and not take a break until he turned thirty.
    Merle, the actor playing Horatio, slid in beside him. “Hey, I still need to come back and get measured.”
    Ru grinned. The guy was maximally cute. “Sure, sweetheart. Want to do it now?”
    “Probably not enough time. How about as soon as the blocking rehearsal is through? Will you still be here?” His wide blue eyes looked anxious.
    “Sure. I can be. I have a lot of designing to do, and I can do it here as well as anywhere.”
    “These costumes must be a huge job.”
    “They are, but I’m actually working on a collection for Fashion Week, so I’ve got a couple projects breathing down my neck.”
    “I imagine breathing down your neck would be a lot of fun.” He flashed a wide smile. “I’d love to hear about your collection. Some of us are going out for drinks after the rehearsal. Want to come?”
    Did he? Blue eyes, not gray. Button nose instead of high-bridged and slim. “Uh, that’s nice of you. I probably better get back home and work. I have help, but I still end up doing a lot of sewing myself.”
    “Hey, you gotta take a break sometime. Why not with me—us?” He leaned in. “I’ll tell you all about Horatio.”
    Ru smiled. He really was cute. “It must be hard rehearsing without Hamlet.”
    “It is. But hell, he’s going to bring in the crowds, so why should I care?”
    “I guess if he’s bad, it could be tough on you.”
    Merle laughed. “I earn my bread in a teenybopper heartthrob supernatural TV series. Simply having a copy of Hamlet on the stage will class up the joint for me.”
    Ru grinned. He liked this guy.
    A buzzing sound pierced the soft voices in the theater. Ru looked up. “What’s that?”
    Bam. The back doors to the theater opened and through them, holding the