Christmas Romance Collection

by Melissa Hill

  ‘Why thank you,’ she said, gazing flirtatiously from beneath her eyelashes. Then she smiled at him and whispered something in return. ‘Excuse me, but I’ll be right back.’ She headed towards the ladies room, briefly looking over her shoulder to make sure he was looking. He was.

  Well, thank goodness I wore this dress, Ruth thought satisfactorily. She swung her hips ever so slightly; might as well give him something to look at.

  Inside the ladies’ room, she took a moment to freshen up and gather her thoughts. These last few days had been incredible, and she still couldn’t believe how much ass-kissing was coming her way tonight. Feeling the love from Hollywood’s most powerful was what she’d always dreamed of and now she had it.

  She’d also had a lot of champagne and her head was spinning just a little, although it was probably a combination of alcohol and the intoxication of being so celebrated, she figured.

  She was still pinching herself that the TV series had become such a ratings success and that according to the Hollywood press, she’d been a major part of that success. Her agent Erik had just copper-fastened an amazing second-series contract for her and with the way things were going she wouldn’t have to worry about money for a long time to come. There would be no more soul-destroying auditions, no more stereotyped walk-on parts and best of all, no more sniping and smart remarks from the Irish media. Hell, if this Emmy nomination happened there could even be a L’Oreal contract in the works so nobody back home could accuse her of being a failure now, could they?

  Throughout her first few years in LA the media in Ireland had been relentless in their criticism, apparently only too delighted that Ruth Seymour hadn’t managed to break through. While in the beginning Ruth had been reasonably confident, she still had no illusions about how hard she’d have to work and what she needed to do to make it in this town – although she honestly didn’t envisage it would take so long. Her home country’s criticism had been very hard to take and she just hoped that when she returned this time, things would be different.

  So while she was looking forward to her return, she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the ten-hour flight across the Atlantic, especially not after all this champagne.

  Then again sod it, she thought; tonight certainly wasn’t the night for being sensible and she could sleep as much as she wanted on the (first class) flight. Ruth knew better than most how fickle Hollywood could be, so best to soak up as much of the fantasy as possible while it lasted.

  And speaking of fantasy ...

  When she came back out Troy was leaning casually against the wall outside.

  ‘Hello there,’ he said in an unmistakably flirtatious tone.

  ‘Hello yourself.’

  ‘Man I love that accent,’ he gasped with a shake of his head and for a brief moment, Ruth wasn’t sure what he was referring to before it dawned on her. Damnit, alcohol often caused her to slip back into her Irish brogue, something she’d really rather didn’t happen.

  Still, if it worked for Troy…

  She smiled. ‘You never know, maybe next season the guys might write in an affair for you with someone Irish.’

  ‘Me cheat on you with some piece of skirt? Not a chance.’ He sidled closer and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from her shoulder. Ruth shivered. While the critics often described their on-screen performance as ‘sizzling’, in all the scenes they’d had together, she’d never really thought about Troy in that way. And whether it was the champagne or just the way he was looking at her, she was beginning to understand what they were talking about.

  ‘I think you’re mixing me up with Mia,’ she teased. ‘It wouldn’t be cheating.’

  ‘Yeah it would,’ Troy replied, gently pushing her into a shadowy corner by the pay phones. Ruth’s breath caught in her throat as he inclined his head and kissed her hungrily on the lips.

  He drew his head back and smiled softly. ‘Much better when it’s not for the cameras, huh?’

  ‘You can say that again,’ she agreed breathlessly, as he moved in for another kiss.

  But he was right; this was nothing like kissing him on set – when usually they were surrounded by a dozen people or more – this was … this was incredible.

  He ran his hands gently across her body, faintly brushing her breasts through the thin material of her dress before moving them back down the small of her back and playing with the hem of her dress. His tongue was hot and eager as he explored her lips and her mouth and she pressed herself against him, her head swimming with a heady combination of alcohol and lust.

  She couldn’t believe that she was in the arms of Troy Valentine and he was kissing her, really kissing her!

  ‘You are so beautiful Ruth – did I tell you I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you?’ He littered her neck with kisses and his lips eventually made their way to her cleavage, just stopping where the fabric began. As he went lower; she could feel his breath on her skin through the fabric and knew he was just as excited as she was.

  Well what took you so long then? she wanted to say, hardly unable to believe how incredible this night was turning out to be. It was the ultimate Hollywood fairy-tale – so much better than she could have possibly dreamed and she really didn’t want it to end.

  Eventually Troy moved his mouth away, and looked into her eyes. She could feel his chest rising and falling against her. ‘Ruth, let’s get the hell out of here.’

  4

  The morning light streamed in through the windows. Ruth tentatively opened her eyes, only to be hit with a major headache. Slowly moving her head off the pillow she turned to confirm what she now really hoped was just a dream. Oh hell…

  Her co-star was lying on his back next to her, and while he was still unmistakably handsome, the raw magnetism that was so much in evidence last night was no longer apparent. Troy moved in his sleep and began snoring heavily, and Ruth suspected that when he woke up his headache would be just as bad as hers.

  She sat up slowly and looked around. Where on earth were they? Trying to recall the events of the previous evening, she vaguely remembered her and Troy deciding to leave the party separately, so as to not get anyone suspicious. They had decided that they would go to the Chateau Marmont, not the most inconspicuous place for celebrities, but quite obviously, neither of them was thinking clearly.

  Troy must have called ahead, or certainly someone did, because she didn’t remember checking in, and hazily recalled the concierge meeting her upon arrival and ushering her to a room. This room.

  Somehow Troy had made it here first, because he was already waiting with more Cristal.

  Ugh, she groaned, her stomach turning at the thought of alcohol. She looked at the floor to see her glorious silver dress lying in a heap on the ground beside the bed and her thirteen hundred dollar (albeit free) shoes were thrown haphazardly on opposite sides of the room. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn’t leave in last nights’ clothes, not if the paparazzi had been tipped off and were waiting; she would have to get Chloe to bring her some.

  All becoming too much to handle, she rested her head back on the pillows and closed her eyes.

  More from last night began to come back, although really it was probably only a couple of hours since they’d settled down to sleep. Troy’s playboy reputation sure was deserved and whatever about his brains, he certainly had star power where it counted. He’d been pretty incredible, so much so she recalled –slightly embarrassed now – that it was a wonder security weren’t called they were so loud. Or perhaps they were? Either way, they were celebrities and the hotel was probably used to that kind of thing, Ruth reassured herself, feeling somewhat shamefaced.

  Yet something was niggling at her, something at the very edge of her consciousness. But what? OK, so she didn’t make a habit of sleeping with other actors, and certainly not guys like Troy. But it had been a surreal and excitingly intoxicating night. It almost felt …right. Anyway it wasn’t as if –

  Suddenly, the niggly feeling that ha
d been bothering her came sharply into focus. And just like that, the pleasant reveries she’d been experiencing a moment ago deserted her. Ruth started to breathe heavy, oh …oh no.

  She jumped out of the bed and started to survey the remains of the night before, clothes, champagne bottles, sheets, her purse, his phone … and the condom.

  Suddenly all the details came rushing back to her in Technicolor; him moving on top of her, her laughing and wrapping her legs tightly around him like she couldn’t get enough of him. The condom splitting … the two of them pausing for a second but then continuing on anyway….

  Oh no….

  Ruth felt bile rising in her throat. She raced into the bathroom and stared in horror at herself in the mirror. The glossy goddess from last night was long gone. Her mascara was smeared on her face, her hair was dull and shag-tangled and she could feel sticky sweaty residue on her skin. She leaned heavily on the bathroom’s marble counter and turned on the water, splashing it on her face while she repeated a mantra to herself over and over.

  This couldn’t be happening…it wasn’t happening… it wouldn’t happen. Not now, not after last night, not with him. Not when everything was falling into place, when her life was exactly how she wanted it to be, when she was living the dream.

  Ruth stifled a sob. She had to get out of here, and fast.

  She crept back into the bedroom and helped herself to one of the rich, white, terrycloth robes the hotel provided. Troy was still sleeping heavily and careful not to wake him, she took her phone out of her purse, and made her way outside onto the balcony.

  Chloe answered on the first ring. ‘Chloe, it’s Ruth, I need you to bring me some clothes to Chateau Marmont, as fast as possible, please.’

  ‘Are you OK? I’ve been so worried, I never heard from you after the party and well, your flight is today and I….’ the concern in her assistant’s voice was palpable. Ruth looked at her watch and wanted to cry; she was supposed to be on a plane to Dublin in a few hours.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  ‘I know, please just hurry, OK?’

  ‘Sure, but what on earth are you doing in the Chateau Marmont?’

  Ruth bit her lip. ‘I kind of … met someone.’

  ‘Oh – anyone I know?’ Chloe teased gently, and for some reason her playful tone made Ruth feel better – as if real Hollywood stars got up to this kind of thing all the time.

  ‘Well …Troy Valentine, actually,’ she admitted wincing, yet at the same time she couldn’t help but feel sort of …proud.

  As expected, Chloe was seriously impressed. ‘Troy Valentine? Wow! Sounds like one hell of a night.’

  Ruth forced a smile. It would have been, apart from … ‘It was but look, I really need to get out of here soon in order to make my flight, so if you could –’

  ‘Got it. I’ll be there soon, don’t worry, you’re all packed, we’ll get you to the airport on time. And don’t forget to slip in the Manolos.’

  Ruth swallowed back tears, realising she never wanted to see those shoes again.

  ‘Chloe, there’s one other thing … something else I need.’

  ‘Sure, what is it, what can I do?’

  Ruth thought about it. She could trust Chloe, couldn’t she? Of course, she could, this kind of thing happened all the time in this town, and her worldly-wise assistant probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Either way, she didn’t have much of a choice, as she could hardly saunter out in public for it – either here or back home, could she?

  ‘I need you to buy me something and put it in my suitcase before you get here,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘Something private.’

  ‘Of course. What do you need?’

  ‘This has to be just between us, OK?’

  ‘Goes without saying. Name it.’

  Ruth swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

  ‘The morning after pill.’

  5

  Jess Armstrong was having enormous difficulty trying to decide between the Fendi and the Prada. The former was pebbled brown leather and gold hardware; the latter squishy calfskin embellished with tiny lavender flowers.

  If she were buying the handbag for herself it wouldn’t be an issue, but trying to pick one that was special enough as a gift while also being practical to suit Emer’s day-to-day lifestyle was a real challenge. The elegant Fendi was the obvious choice of course, but the Prada was so pretty and had way more of a wow factor, didn’t it?

  And Jess really wanted her best friend to be wowed by her birthday present – she deserved it.

  Ten months ago Emer had given birth to her first child, little Amy, but had found the initial transition to motherhood difficult and Jess had been really worried about her. The two had been friends for many years, and when Emer in the early days admitted to Jess she was struggling, she tried her utmost to help in every way she could; a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, but mostly just to be there as much as possible for her friend during such a difficult period. Thankfully, Emer had come through the worst though, and these days, was taking to family life like the proverbial duck to water.

  So this and the fact that her friend’s thirty-fifth birthday was this weekend was reason enough for Jess to want to spoil her with something extra special. They weren’t usually so extravagant in their gifts to one another and she knew Emer would be blown away by such a lavish present. Which was exactly the point.

  ‘I just can’t decide,’ she said to the Brown Thomas store assistant, who confused her even further by suggesting a temptingly beautiful petrol blue patent Alexander McQueen.

  Jess resisted the urge to chew on a strand of honey blonde hair – an awful childhood habit that she could never quite break – as she wondered if patent might actually be a good idea for a new mum; it would be more practical for baby stains, wouldn’t it? Yet, at the same time she couldn’t see Emer wandering around Lakeview with a bright blue space-aged style McQueen, she’d definitely get some weird looks from the locals.

  Less than an hour’s drive from Dublin on the motorway, Lakeview was very much your quintessential Irish small town, locally owned pubs and shops and a gorgeous café along one short street, surrounded by pretty older houses, and lavish, sprawling newer ones further out – all centred round the large oxbow lake.

  Emer and her husband had moved there on the advice of other mutual friends Deirdre and Kevin who had already relocated there – the houses in Lakeview were larger and cheaper than what was available in Dublin; and the quieter pace of life perfect for growing families. Jess loved visiting her friends down there and harboured the odd hope that she and Brian might one day follow the other couples in setting up home in the area, but at the same time her hubby was a Dub through and through, and she knew he’d miss the cut and thrust of city life. In truth Jess would probably miss it too. It was lovely to visit a sleepy place like Lakeview for a couple of hours and enjoy the laid-back way of things, but after a while the quieter pace of life might very well be grating.

  Eventually deciding on the lavender Prada (to hell with practicality) Jess left the store and headed out into the late afternoon sunshine towards St Stephen’s Green shopping centre where her car was parked. It was a beautifully sunny May day, and for once she got to make proper use of her Ray Bans instead of just perching them on the top of her head like she usually did. Grafton Street was especially buzzy on days like this; the street performers and late-evening shoppers were out in force and she smiled as she sauntered along, jauntily swinging the striped Brown Thomas carrier bag.

  On her way, she couldn’t resist nipping into a nearby toy store to pick up a cute teddy bear for little Amy. Well, her niece deserved a treat too, didn’t she? Not that Amy was really her niece, but she was the closest thing Jess was going to get to one, as she herself was an only child.

  And Emer was as good as any sister. They’d known one another for what seemed like forever but in reality was only about fifteen years when they’d met on the first day of college. Having both graduated with marketing degr
ees, they’d taken up work at the same Dublin-based drinks distribution company, and while Emer had in the meantime given up the job, moved to Lakeview and started a family, Jess was still working with the same company. Well, in theory at least, as the small Irish firm had since been taken over and re-branded under the massive international Piccolo label. The company was responsible for the majority of Irish premium brand alcoholic beverages, and Jess’s recently promoted role to marketing manager for Ireland was to ensure that their key brands remained fresh and desirable to the drinking public both here and internationally. And speaking of which…as she passed by a popular tourist pub, Jess was gratified to see that the majority of customers sitting outdoors were enjoying the sunshine over longneck bottles of Piccolo’s current brand leader.

  If only her latest campaign could so easily convince Brian, she thought fondly. Her hubby just couldn’t be persuaded to switch from his lifetime favourite, Guinness, to Piccolo’s equivalent Porters, much to his wife’s chagrin. She’d tried hundreds of times throughout their seven-year marriage to persuade him of Porters’ merits, but he just couldn’t be turned. His doggedness (or contrariness as Jess called it) was something that amused their friends no end, and something that frustrated her in equal measures, but as it was just about the only thing he did that annoyed her she could certainly live with it. Jess shook her head in silent amazement. Seven years now. It was hard to believe she and Brian had been married that long, especially when it still felt almost like only seven months. He was a great friend, confidant and her absolute soul mate, and she didn’t know what she would do without him. Although she had no choice but to do without him this week at least, as he was away with work in Singapore and wouldn’t be back until Sunday night.

  Well, she’d have plenty to occupy her until then. Having been out every single night this week at work-related parties and events, tonight would be a rare night in, and Jess planned to go home and have a good long soak in the bath, which should help recharge the batteries. Tomorrow afternoon she’d pop down to Lakeview for a visit and give Emer and Amy their presents.