by Karen Foley
“He’s not using me, Val. At least not any more than I’m using him. I only know that if I don’t do this, I’ll always regret it. Don’t you understand? I’ve gone through the last five years wondering what might have been. Now I have a chance to see if all that angst and longing was based in reality, or if it was just a figment of my own overactive imagination.”
“Yeah, right.” Valerie sound skeptical. “Or you’re just looking for new material for your writing. After all, you only spent two nights with him and that was five years ago. I mean, c’mon, how many stories can you create from two measly nights?”
Lara recalled those two nights and shivered. Some of her hottest stories had been based on those two measly nights. Even Val didn’t know the extent of what she and Graeme had shared during their time together at the inn.
“I’m not looking for new material,” she said patiently, although she silently acknowledged that the past night had given her all kinds of new material, if she chose to continue writing. “I’m trying to find out if there really is something between us. Maybe Graeme Hamilton is a complete jerk, and once I’m no longer lusting over his body, I’ll see him for what he really is.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Valerie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “That’s why every woman in America wants him—because behind the eye candy he’s really just a shallow jerk.” She sighed deeply. “Well, I can’t say that I blame you for taking him up on his offer. I know I would. How long are you going to be gone?”
Lara glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s one-thirty in the afternoon here. Graeme had a television interview and some autographing sessions to attend this morning, but he’s booked a private jet to take us to London later tonight. We’ll drive to Scotland from there. With the time difference, it will be tomorrow afternoon by the time we reach the inn. We’ll stay for two days.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Lara.”
“Me, too.”
“What do you want me to tell Christopher when I see him?”
“Just tell him that I need a little more time to think things through and that I’ll call him as soon as I can.”
“He said that he tried calling you last night and again this morning, and that you haven’t been answering your cell phone.”
Lara paused in the process of folding a pair of jeans. “You spoke with him today?”
Val’s voice sounded exasperated. “He called me because he was worried about you and wanted to know if I’d heard from you. I had to do some pretty quick thinking to come up with a plausible excuse, I’ll have you know.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you hadn’t been sleeping well at the beach house and that you’d probably just turned your phone off in order to get a good night’s rest.”
Lara gave a moan of frustration. “Oh, I hate this. I hate lying to him. He’s such a nice guy, and he doesn’t deserve how I’m treating him right now.”
“So tell him the truth.”
“I can’t. He’ll hate me.”
“He won’t hate you, Lara. But he’ll be angry with you for not being honest with him from the beginning.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll console him,” Val said, her voice teasing. “He really is cute, in a frumpy professor sort of way. I’ll bet I could teach him a thing or two about a thing or two.”
“Val…” Lara said in warning.
“I’m kidding. Really. But I am going over to the theater this afternoon to do costume fittings with the kids. Do you want me to tell him that I talked with you? Break the news gently to him?”
Lara finished folding her jeans and laid them carefully in her suitcase. “No, thanks. This is something I have to do myself. He’s not expecting me back for a couple of more days, so I’ll call him when this whole thing is over and I have a better idea of what I’m going to do.”
“Okay.”
They talked for a few more minutes about the theater program, and especially about little Alayna, who Val insisted was doing fine.
Lara hung up, frowning. For the first time since she’d made the decision to pursue a divorce from Graeme, she knew she wouldn’t continue to date Christopher. Regardless of what happened between her and Graeme, she couldn’t become seriously involved with a man she wasn’t completely in love with. Christopher could give her everything she needed—security, a stable home, and children—but he couldn’t give her the one thing she truly craved.
Happiness.
A knock sounded at her door, and Graeme’s voice called softly to her from the other side. Lara opened the door, unaccountably shy to see Graeme, now that they had agreed to spend the next two days together. He’d changed his clothes since breakfast, and wore a pale blue shirt of the softest cotton that turned his eyes to turquoise. He’d showered and she caught the tangy scent of his soap as he braced a hand on the doorjamb and let his gaze sweep over her.
Lara had dressed carefully in a sheer floating top of pale green patterned with flowers and paired with jeans and heeled sandals. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose knot, letting several strands escape to curl around her neck.
“You look lovely,” he said, “but I prefer to see your hair down, like this.” Reaching out, he flicked her hair free from the elastic band, letting it fall around her face. “Much better,” he said in soft approval, taking a tendril between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing it thoughtfully. “I like this, too.” His fingers dipped briefly into the low neckline of her top and withdrew the locket.
Lara closed her fingers around the locket, and her hand brushed against Graeme’s. Just that brief contact was enough to send her heart rate skipping. How was she ever going to survive two days in close proximity with this man?
More importantly, how was she ever going to let him go, when the time came?
“I’m ready to go,” she said, her voice breathless.
“And the papers?”
Lara indicated her case, although she didn’t want to think about those divorce papers and what they meant. “I have them with me.”
Graeme arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? There’s still time to change your mind. And I should warn you about the paparazzi. I’ll try to keep a low profile, but there’s always a possibility that they’ll learn about our plans. If they do, they’ll follow us and snap our pictures wherever we go. The gossip tabloids will print things about us that may or may not be true. They’ll pry into your past, pester your family and friends, and probably try to paint you in the worst possible light. Nothing will be private.” He paused for emphasis. “Nothing.”
Lara took a deep breath. “I don’t care.”
She realized it was no less than the truth. For years she’d waited for this man, longed for him. She needed to find out if her feelings for him were based on fact or fiction, and if it meant enduring the scrutiny of the media, then so be it. She’d let other people force them apart once before, but she wouldn’t let it happen again. This time, if they decided to go their separate ways it would be a choice they made together.
“If reporters ask who you are, I’m going to say you’re my wife,” Graeme warned.
Lara looked at him, shocked. She’d thought he might be joking, but there was no humor in his expression. She hadn’t planned on going public with the news of their marriage, hadn’t thought that Graeme would want to, either.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
“But what about your career? You’d break millions of female hearts, not to mention how the media will react.”
Graeme gave her a laconic smile. “In cases like this, it’s always best to come clean. I think being honest with the media will actually deflect a lot of the negative publicity the news would otherwise draw. Besides, they’d find out about it sooner or later.” He paused. “But what about you? How will your boyfriend react if he hears about your marriage on the local news? Maybe you should call him first.”<
br />
Lara thought of Christopher. How would he feel when he learned about her past? He’d be hurt that she hadn’t confided in him, but would he be heartbroken? Somehow, Lara didn’t think so. They’d shared an easy camaraderie over the past year, working with the kids at the theater program. He’d helped her with several young adult screenplays that she’d written, and he’d promised to help her market them to different production companies and studios. But when she thought about their relationship, she realized most of what they shared revolved around their mutual interest in writing scripts.
There was so much about herself that she’d never shared with Christopher. For instance, he had no idea that she spent her evenings writing erotic fan fiction about the Galaxy’s End characters, and she’d preferred not to tell him; he’d think it was pure, unadulterated trash. She could never tell him what the writing meant to her, that her stories represented some of the happiest moments of her life. He’d realize that she’d used her writing as a way to cling to her memories of Graeme.
Now she looked at Graeme. “I’ll call him later. My roommate, Val, knows everything, so if he does see anything on the news, she’ll be able to fill him in on the details.”
Lara saw the skepticism in his raised eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything. What would Graeme think if he knew about her writing? If he knew that her fictional stories revolved around him and the character he played in the television series? She hoped he wouldn’t find out, because then he’d know that she’d never stopped thinking about him, that she’d actually obsessed about him in way that couldn’t be healthy.
She gave Graeme what she hoped was a bright smile. “So by tonight, everyone could know that you have a secret wife. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You do realize that I’ve never traveled as anybody’s wife before?”
A slow smile curved his lips. “Trust me, that’s no problem. I can show you anything you need to know.”
12
AT GRAEME’S insistence, the hotel staff discreetly moved Lara’s belongings from her room to his penthouse suite until they were ready to leave for the airport that evening. Lara had watched in amazement; although she’d been accustomed to her father receiving preferential treatment during his days as a prominent politician, that didn’t come close to the obsequious service Graeme commanded. It seemed the only person who didn’t want to bend over backward to accommodate him was his publicist, Tony Angelini, who wasn’t happy to learn that his biggest client was secretly married.
Lara sat curled on the sofa in Graeme’s luxurious suite, flipping through a magazine and pretending she wasn’t listening as Tony lectured Graeme. She might have been invisible for all the notice he took of her, but for once she didn’t mind. The man completely intimidated her with his fierce energy and his even fiercer expression.“I’m your publicist, and if anyone deserved to know about your marriage it was me, Graeme.” He paced the floor of the living room and raked his hand through his black hair. “How could you keep something like this from me? I could have broken this news to the public in a way that could have helped your career. But to have hidden it from me all this time—” He spluttered as he stopped pacing, and glared at Graeme. “Well, quite frankly, it’s insulting.”
Graeme leaned negligently against a window, staring down at the Las Vegas strip, seemingly impervious to his publicist’s tirade.
“Now you tell me that you’re going to be gone for the next several days without even a by-your-leave. What am I going to tell David Letterman? If you’re a no-show with him then you can forget about getting an invite back to his show.”
“Dave and I are friends,” Graeme muttered. “He’ll understand.”
“Dammit, Graeme, are you even listening to me? Do you know how insulting this whole thing is?”
Graeme turned from the window, his gaze shifting briefly to Lara before turning to his agent. “Yeah,” he finally said. “I’m listening. Although quite frankly, I don’t see what you find so insulting. My private is life is just that—private. If I choose to keep my marriage under wraps, then it’s nobody’s business but mine and my wife’s.”
Tony gave a disbelieving laugh. “Do you have any clue what this could do to your career?” He ignored the warning tone in Graeme’s voice. “Your popularity has everything to do with the fact that you were single. As in not married. Look at what happened to Ben Affleck and Matt Damon after they took themselves off the market. Why do you think George Clooney hasn’t married? Do you think anyone is writing steamy stories about them on the Internet? There’s a reason why your fan Web sites are so hot right now, Graeme, and it’s not because you’ve been secretly married for the past five years!”
At the mention of steamy Internet stories, Lara stiffened and her startled gaze flew to Tony. There was no way he could be talking about the stories that she wrote. Could he? Her heart began to pound and her hands felt clammy with dread as she determinedly bent her head to her magazine.
But Tony wasn’t paying any attention to her. From the corner of her eye, Lara saw him throw his hands up in utter disgust. “Okay, fine. I can see I’m not going to get through to you on this. I’ve done what I can to keep your ratings up, but I’m not sure this is something we could recover from.”
Graeme stared at Tony as if the other man had sprouted three heads. “Recover from? Tony, this isn’t something I need to recover from. Frankly, I don’t give a damn about the ratings. This is my life. And if my being married means I’m no longer appealing to female viewers, then I’m okay with that. Maybe I won’t have to attend any more fan festivals! There’s only one woman whose opinion I should really care about, if you want to know the truth.”
Tony’s glance flicked to Lara and away again, but not before she saw the resentment in his eyes, and something else, too. Something that looked like speculation.
“Right. Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait until this comes out to see how it’ll impact your fan base.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go, kids. Someone has to do damage control with the convention people, and I guess that’s what I get paid the big bucks for. Congratulations on your nuptials. Wish me luck when it comes time to explain this to the media.”
Lara’s eyebrows rose at the condescension in Tony’s voice. They watched as the publicist left the suite. Lara tipped her head and considered the closed door. “He’s the best publicist in the industry?”
“That’s what they say,” Graeme agreed.
Lara shivered. “He’s a horrible man.”
Graeme laughed, but Lara thought it had a hard edge to it. “His methods are a little unorthodox, but he’s treated me well. He really wants his clients to succeed, although I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes he goes a little too far.”
Lara snorted. “Of course he does. If you succeed, he succeeds. Why didn’t you put the poor man out of his misery and tell him that you’d be single again very soon?”
“Because I meant what I said. My private life is my own business. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to begin digging a little deeper into my past.” Graeme gave her a grim smile. “He’s probably wondering what else there is that he doesn’t know about me.”
Lara turned a page of the magazine, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy advertisements. “If being an actor means having your publicist prying into your past, then I’d never survive in Hollywood,” she said in a low voice. “I can’t imagine having complete strangers knowing the intimate details of my life.” She gave a small shudder. “It’s creepy.”
Graeme lowered his long frame onto the sofa beside Lara. She slid him a sideways glance and saw his eyes narrow as he considered her. “I agree,” he said smoothly. “I’ve never understood why anyone would care what I ate for dinner the night before or who I shared it with. Then there are the fans who can’t separate me from the characters I portray. They think I am Kip Corrigan, and they expect me to behave like him when I’m in public.” He g
ave a huff of laughter. “They’re actually affronted when I don’t.”
Lara felt a pang of sympathy for Graeme. She’d never really considered how his life must be. Just running an errand could become a game of duck-and-hide from the fans and the paparazzi.
“It must be difficult,” she murmured. “Like having a dual identity.”
“You should know all about that,” he said softly.
Lara snapped her head up to stare at Graeme. “Excuse me?”
“After all,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’re a professional when it comes to hiding yourself—your true self—from people, even those closest to you.” He paused meaningfully. “Especially those closest to you.”
Lara flushed. “That’s not fair, Graeme. I already told you why I lied to you back then. If you can’t accept that I was young and foolish and afraid of losing you, then I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
Graeme leaned across the cushion that separated them, until she could see the amazing striation of blues and greens in his irises. “I’m not just talking about how you lied to me all those years ago, Lara. I’m talking about who you are today, especially considering your, uh, extracurricular activities during the past few years.”
What?
Lara stared at him, completely bemused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Extracurricular activities?” She gave a short laugh. “If you really knew me, then you’d know that I only go out with Christopher on the weekends, and he’s never even spent the night at my place. When we do go out, it’s usually just for dinner or maybe a movie. So whatever is you think I’m doing at night, you’re mistaken.”
To her dismay, Graeme smiled slowly. “Oh, I’m not mistaken, Secret Lover. I know all about the erotic stories you write and post to the Internet. I know that every one of them features Kip Corrigan in the flesh, so to speak. I wonder if you’ve shared that little detail of your life with your boyfriend?”
