Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire

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Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire Page 44

by Rebecca M. Avery


  “Nate. I want you.”

  “No, you don’t. You don’t know what you want, Lil, and I’m not going to put our friendship in jeopardy because of that.”

  He got out of the limo and hit the roof twice to signal the driver to continue on. Then he stood there, watching, until the rear lights faded in the distance and he was alone in the darkness.

  Chapter One

  Three Months Later

  Lily MacIntyre raised her champagne glass along with the rest of the crew, toasting their first successful day of casting for the new season of Star Power, the hottest reality talent show in the country.

  “To the best season yet,” said Frank Killion, raising his glass a little higher. A scattering of hear-hears and woo-hoos followed. “Now we business types will get out of the way and you can really get the party started.” This led to another chorus of woo-hoos from the wardrobe girls with pink-and-blue striped hair. Lily held back the eye roll.

  The woo-hoo girls were already calling her princess; she didn’t need even more animosity. This show would help her shed the teen-star image she’d been trying to shuck since her show was officially cancelled. An image she’d grown tired of, but that America hadn’t. Every audition she’d had, prior to this one, ended with the same handful of sentences.

  “We just don’t think you’re far enough from the role of Rayna yet. Maybe in another year or two.”

  Yeah. Maybe never. For whatever reason, the producers of Star Power were willing to risk their show on her squeaky-clean image, and for that she was grateful. But Lily didn’t need the wardrobe girls dressing her in zebra prints or furry sweaters for the next three months and ruining the tiny bit of progress she’d made.

  Lily finished her glass of champagne as the DJ cranked up the music and the lights went down. Katrina Phillips, her best friend since high school, made her way across the room dodging dancing crew members and shaking her head at waiters trying to ply more drinks. The liquor never stopped at a Hollywood party. One of the benefits, Lily decided as she snagged a wide-mouthed glass of something yellow and fruity-looking.

  Lemony. Nice.

  Kat made it back to their table, leaned over the small top and whispered, “He’s here.”

  Lily didn’t have to ask who. There was only one crew member missing from the party: Nate Lansford. The man who had made it obvious from his absence that he didn’t want a former child star on the show, not even in hostess mode where her job was to smile, offer encouragement and look pretty for the cameras.

  Her brother’s best friend. The man who planted the hottest kiss she’d ever had on her just a few months ago. And then walked away into the California night, disappearing from her life until she learned he was the guest panelist for this season of Star Power.

  They had a screen test. More like a lesson in control for Lily who, from the moment Nate stepped on stage, felt as if twelve hundred volts of electricity were pouring through her veins instead of normal blood. Maybe that electricity was the final push to single her out for the gig. Lily had no idea. But while she had the Hollywood connections, she didn’t have the resume of at two of the other candidates.

  Didn’t matter, anyway. She landed the job. And she would show everyone just how right she was for the part.

  Had she known Nate was a panelist before that screen test would she have shown up? Lily flicked a drop of condensation from her glass and sat back in her seat. Probably not. Not because she was afraid of another hot kiss from the rock star, but because she was afraid he’d already gotten over whatever had happened that night in his limo.

  She certainly hadn’t.

  She glanced at the clothes she still wore from filming: butter soft, chocolate-brown leather pants, sequined camisole and camel-wool, ankle-length coat. Her feet would protest five-inch stiletto heels in the morning, but for now she knew she looked good. Better—she looked the part. No matter what she might have done had she known Nate was on the panel, she was not backing out now. She would deal with the lingering attraction whether it meant a hot fling with nobody important or running an extra mile every night before bed. Because this gig was exactly what her career—what she—needed to find her balance once more. She’d been forced to be someone she wasn’t for too long.

  Her stomach flip-flopped as Nate wandered through the doors, pausing to grab a longneck from the bar. He wore old camo board shorts, a club T-shirt and worn skater shoes. The man should look like a reject from a bad ‘90s teen movie, but Lily’s mouth went dry and she instinctively licked her lips. Nate tipped his beer toward the sound guys at another table and stopped by several tables on his circuit of the room. He never once looked in her direction. Which, of course, kept her eyes glued to his backside as he trekked from one corner to the other.

  Kat elbowed her. “Are you going to keep drooling over the man or actually go talk to him?”

  “Drooling.” Lily finished the lemon drink and licked the last bit of salt from the rim. “Damn, he must do five hundred squat thrusts every morning to have an ass like that.”

  “It’s actually only fifty, but he does run five miles every morning, and there’s the surfing and rock climbing and— What?” Kat waggled her eyebrows. “I read that piece in the fitness magazine a few weeks ago, ‘How America’s Hottest Rock Stars Stay Fit.’ The one you have folded and hidden in your jewelry box—the keepsake Nate bought you for confirmation.”

  Kat knew her too well. And, in truth, Lily didn’t need the folded-up article. A couple of those snaps were permanently tattooed on her brain, but she didn’t need to admit that. “Must have missed it.”

  “Come on, you’re a card-carrying member of Nate’s fan club. We all are. Have been ever since he was torturing girls in the hallways at Malibu Prep. Admit it.”

  Lily shook her head and snagged another fruit-juice-infused drink from a passing waiter. She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Nope. Not going to admit anything. He’s a coworker, nothing more.”

  Kat eyed Lily over the rim of her glass. “He wasn’t just a co-worker when he saved you from the paparazzi mud-slinging after that awards show a few months ago. Or when he kissed you in the limo afterward.”

  “We definitely don’t need to talk about that,” Lily mumbled, hiding the words in the lemony goodness of her glass.

  “You kissed him. He kissed you back.”

  Lily shrugged. “And then he ran faster than an Olympic sprinter in the other direction.” Nate moved to the woo-hoo-girls’ table, smiling and chatting. He leaned his elbows against the cherry tabletop as if he couldn’t quite hear what the girls were saying. Her stomach twisted. Just what she didn’t need—a reminder of the kind of girl Nate Lansford wanted. Pretty. Empty-headed. Fun and all too eager to agree to whatever he had in mind.

  Exactly not like Lily, whose hair was only tamed because of the braids wound around the updo and who took Hollywood way too seriously. Wasn’t that what Nate had said that night? That she had to get over what the paps said about her and get on with her life?

  As if it was that easy.

  “You’ve barely said a word to him since that night and you think that that isn’t going to translate into tension on the show?”

  “Tension makes the ratings,” she said, echoing one of her father’s favorite phrases. He would know. Jonas MacIntyre had produced a string of high comedies and dramas for the various networks, each more steamy and tension-filled than the next, and he credited that tension to stars who wanted one another, but wouldn’t give in. Hadn’t he said that his last cop show flopped because the leads fell into bed before the first season wrapped?

  Nate signaled the waiter for another round at the table. The woo-hoo girls fawned over him, running their hands up his tattooed arms. One of them would push her hands into his hair before long and pull his face down to hers. That kiss would lead to another fling for America’s hottest rock star.

  It would also nail another piece of her heart closed, because Lily couldn’t lie to herself. She wante
d Nate. Had for as long as she could remember. And he didn’t want her.

  She pushed away from the table. It was time to go before she went maudlin over Nate’s choices in women—while she still had a little bit of her dignity intact.

  He glanced toward her table, straightened, and her arm froze midlift. A splash of her drink sloshed over the lip of the glass as his chocolate-brown eyes focused on her. It was as if everything in the club faded away, leaving only the two of them and few yards of tiled floor between. Nate tipped his beer bottle toward her, quirked one eyebrow and smiled that half smile that women around the world screeched over.

  Lily’s hand tightened around the stem of her glass and her toes curled against the smooth soles of her boots. One of the woo-hoo girls reached for him, her long red nails like talons, but Nate shook her off.

  God, he was coming to her table. To tell her once more to give up this image-renewal kick she’d been on since her show was cancelled? Probably. To remind her of the kiss and all the reasons they didn’t make sense as a couple? Likely.

  The thing was, he was right. A childhood crush did not make Nate the right guy for her. Growing up together, going to school together, didn’t. The fact that he was her brother’s best friend was a definite mark against him.

  But as he crossed the floor, the memory of that kiss washed over her like it had happened yesterday. How hot it had gotten in his limo in the fraction of a second it took for him to lean across the backseat and swipe a tear off her cheek. The feel of his calloused fingers against the sensitive skin of her neck.

  Lily gulped in a calming breath and set her drink aside. Who needed alcohol? From across the room, Nate was intoxicating enough. Up close, she was already drunk on him.

  “And here we go.” Kat whispered the words, but Lily heard them clearly despite the loud music and boisterous crowd. Probably because she was thinking the same thing. Kat threw back the last of her drink and smiled as Nate drew abreast of their table. “Nathan Lansford. I see you’re still a fan of talent shows.”

  He grinned at Kat, who’d served as his backup singer in too many high school talent shows to count. “You know I’m just a sucker for the spotlight.” He focused his attention on Lily for an intense moment. “I see you left your Mary Janes in the closet again.”

  “I haven’t worn Mary Janes since I was about seven, but if you’re looking for fashion advice, ratty board shorts probably aren’t the best choice for an office party.” Lily kept her voice cool, as if her heart wasn’t racing and her temperature already rising just from his proximity.

  He smirked at her. “Hollywood parties aren’t like the domesticated affairs you have in Beverly Hills or even Malibu. And that single drink has more rum in it than you’ve had in a single sitting in your entire life.”

  “Still playing older brother, I see.”

  “Someone’s got to watch out for you, and Chase is working with the new band tonight.” He lazed against the table as if he planned to stay there for the night. Lily was torn between wanting him to stay so she could show him just how much she’d changed and wanting to slug the patronizing grin off his face.

  She chose, instead, to finish her drink, keeping her gaze locked on Nate’s as she finished off the lemon-and-rum concoction.

  “Well, I can see I’m not needed here.” Kat pushed away from the table. “And I’ve got an early call in the morning anyhow.” She held her hand up to her ear like a phone. “Call me when you’re done shooting, we’ll hit a few more shops on Melrose.” And before Lily could say anything, Kat faded into the crowd, leaving her alone at the table with Nate.

  “I don’t need looking after.”

  “As a matter of fact, Miss Rebel-Without-a-Cause, you do.” When Lily signaled a waiter, Nate shooed him away. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” His hand seared her elbow, sending a trail of heat through her body.

  “We tried that once before. It didn’t end well.” He blinked, but didn’t say anything. Lily pulled away. “In case you missed the memo, I’m Chase’s sister, not yours.”

  Fire burned in his brown eyes, sending a spear of excitement into Lily’s belly. “I know exactly what your relationship is to me.”

  Her breathing grew shallow. “And what is that, exactly?” She wished the words sounded stronger, but as always where Nate was concerned, she couldn’t seem to find her center.

  He watched her for a moment too long and her muscles tightened in response.

  “Next to your twin brother, you are the only person in this world I care to call a friend,” he finally said, tilting his head to the left and motioning toward the door. “Now, if Your Highness is ready, I’ll drive you home.”

  Lily deflated a bit at that. Friend. She didn’t need or want him throwing that word at her again, not after the way he’d kissed her—so not friendlike—in the back of that limo. “I already told you I don’t need a driver. I’m quite capable of driving my own car to my own house, L.A. traffic and all.”

  Nate furrowed his brows, annoyance clear from his expression. “Come on, Lil—”

  “No.” She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I have a brother, a family and more friends than I know what to do with. What I need is a career, and what I’d love is someone to fall in love with. I’m working on the career thing, that’s why I took this job. And don’t worry. I never hoped that ‘the someone to fall in love with’ was you. I just thought we could have some fun.” She ignored the pang in her heart at the untrue words, and then took a deep breath and pushed away from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have—”

  The heel of her boot caught on the thin metal rung halfway down the tall chair. Lily grabbed for the tabletop with one hand while the other flailed for balance, but the boot-and-rung held firm and she felt her other foot sliding beneath her. And then Nate was there, steadying her, holding her free arm and propping her body up with his own. Lily ignored the rush of heat that followed.

  “Yeah, you don’t need to make that kind of impression on the suits or the paparazzi.” He put his arm around her shoulders and started for the bank of elevators behind them. Lily pushed against him. He had the wrong idea. That wasn’t some drunken stumble, it was an accident. Plain and simple. “Stop it, Lil. The last thing your professional reputation needs is a bad rap. Let’s just get you away from the crowd and sobered up a little.”“Nate, sweetie.” Lily put all the ice in her voice she could find and casually traced her fingertips over his jaw. As if the touch meant nothing. As if she felt nothing.

  That overwhelming urge to kiss him and then smack him was back. She didn’t need rescuing. Not from a too-high heel and a badly placed chair rung. If she were a woo-hoo girl, she’d use him. Use the silly misstep, play up being drunk and turn into a vamp once they were alone.

  Lily couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—do that. She wanted Nate, but more than that, she wanted him to admit he wanted her. Just as badly.

  “I’m not drunk. Not even a little bit.”

  “I’ve seen enough—”

  She cut him off. “I tripped over the stupid chair rung and slid on the tiles. You can take off that imaginary white hat and put away the brother card. I’m not one of the woo-hoo girls who have to get drunk to get a guy. I’m going to dance.”

  She pulled away from him, smiling on the inside at his annoyed expression. His clenched fists. Lily grabbed the first guy she could find, a soundman who worked in the staging area, interviewing contestants before and after their performances. He was the kind of guy she should want.

  Straightforward. Not tied up in celebrity. The kind of guy who knew what he wanted and went after it. They slid into a mid-tempo dance when the DJ changed discs. The soundman was nice enough. Her chin rested against his shoulder, which was unfortunate because her view of the dance floor, or rather her view of one corner of the floor, was unobstructed. The man she danced with should make her tummy go all fluttery, but instead it was Nate, standing across the room and watching, who kept her attention. Her palms grew sweaty
from the look on his face, not from the feel of another man’s arms around her.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, the spinning red, green and blue lights catching on the eagle tattooed over one forearm.

  The soundman twirled her around the dance floor until the next song started, a bass-heavy dance mix that brought more and more crew members to the dance floor. Lily danced her way across the floor, playing up to the music, but her attention never left the corner where Nate still watched.

  Would he do something? Anything? She didn’t expect him to stalk across the floor and rip her out of her dance partner’s arms, but he wasn’t interested in her, so why not let her find someone who was?

  Maybe she wasn’t so different from the woo-hoo girls, after all. Because she knew in her heart that every bump-and-grind move was for his benefit. Nate could play dumb all he wanted, but that night wasn’t just one of those things. Things had been tense between them for a long time before that limo ride.

  She’d been dead sober, and while still annoyed at the paparazzi line, she wasn’t so far gone that she needed a one-night stand to get over the upset. And Nate…kissing her hadn’t been about coming to her rescue on the red carpet or being a friend. It couldn’t have been.

  That kiss was need and deep wanting for the ten or so seconds it lasted.

  Now it was all she could think about.

  Lily turned to her next partner and sucked in a tight breath.

  How had she missed him leaving his corner of the floor?

  Nate smiled at her. “Still putting on a show?”

  She could only shake her head.

  “Because I’m about through watching it.”

  Her belly twisted at the innuendo. “Sometimes you have to be part of the sh—”

 

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