Stand-In Star

by Rachael Johns

  They swept through a living area bordered with wrap-around, chocolate-brown, suede couches that looked as if they’d been custom made to fit the room, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a sea-green swimming pool and then, in the distance, a lush, manicured golf course. No doubt membership cost more than double her annual salary.

  Finally they arrived at the bottom of the grandest spiral staircase she’d ever seen outside the television. She looked up and up and up, wondering how many floors his mansion had.

  “I’ll put you on the third floor,” he said, as if some kind of mind reader. “I’m on the second at the opposite end of the house.” His undertones couldn’t have been clearer. She was to stay out of his way.

  She nodded and then breathed a sigh of relief when he turned around and began to climb the stairs. Unfortunately due to the stairs being curved, there were no large pieces of art to commandeer her attention as they trekked upward. She kept her eyes down, focusing on each step and moving one foot in front of another, but it didn’t make one iota of difference. Nate and his perfect physique were already imprinted in her mind. Simply knowing he was taking the stairs only a few steps ahead had her insides tangling and her hormones in a tizzy. It made her feel girly and silly like one of the bimbo heroines in the romantic comedies Daisy had starred in.

  Although only three floors, the climb took forever. She breathed in deeply as she stepped onto level tiles and her eyes snapped once again to the walls, all splattered with large and truly amazing photographs of sunsets. They’d also been the subject of choice on the ground floor. She frowned, wondering if Nate just had a thing for golden, burnt-orange skies or if… “Did you take these?” She gazed up at a photo of the sun setting over the Golden Gate Bridge.

  He stopped and swung around to see what she was looking at. He rested her suitcase on the floor and shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”

  She considered this and then moved along to the next sunset. A beach, not one she recognized but beautiful nonetheless. She got the feeling he could make anything look beautiful. “Just a hobby? These are amazing.”

  He almost smiled. She’d swear that’s what she’d seen lurking at the corner of his mouth but he clamped his lips together annihilating the possibility. Instead, he raised his eyebrows and gestured down the corridor. “I’ve got to get to work, so…if you don’t mind.”

  Actually she did mind. So, he’d done her a favor by taking her in but there was no need to be so damn narky. It figured he’d taken these photos—he had moody artist down to a tee. Well, she was a woman who liked good conversation and she wasn’t about to spend six days in his house being inflicted with the silent treatment. “Of course, and what is it you do for a living, Nate?” She added a sugar-sweet smile for affect.

  He started to walk and then must have realized she hadn’t acquiesced to his request. She heard him breathe out like it was a real hassle to do so. He turned back. “I’m a portrait photographer and I also teach. Photography that is, not anthropology or anything academic.”

  The last line sounded like a personal insult. Against himself. But looking at his photos, looking about his house, he had nothing to feel inferior about. She ignored his self-deprecation, moving on to the next spectacular image and this time smiling because the photo had that kind of effect. “And let me guess, if I wanted to do one of those courses, it would cost a bundle and there’d be a lengthy waiting list?”

  “Something like that.”

  He didn’t look at the photo but rather at her as if he was trying to see beneath the surface. If he took some time to get to know her, he’d realize she was an open book whereas he was an enigma. “So, are the courses on portrait photography too or are they more general?”

  He cleared his throat. “We offer courses in every type of photography—portrait, landscape, creative. We also teach digital imaging and how to enhance and alter photos once they’re taken.”

  “Wow. I think that’s the most you’ve said to me since we met.”

  He raised his eyebrows with apparent distaste. She’d been trying to lighten the mood, show him she wasn’t as boring and stiff as Daisy had likely painted her, but her “joke” had only worked to widen the canyon between them.

  “As I said, I have to get to work.” He turned, then retrieved the suitcase and charged down the corridor. He pushed open a door. She walked briskly to catch up and found him laying her luggage on the kind of rack you see in flash hotels. She stopped two steps into the room and then slowly turned around, taking in every detail of her plush surroundings. Although the decor was very masculine, all dark browns and modern furniture, there was a strange warmth making her feel as if she were in a home rather than the presidential suite of a five star resort, which is what the room looked liked.

  Bizarre when only cold emanated from her dangerously handsome host.

  He crossed the room to ginormous floor-to-ceiling windows and drew the extravagant curtains shut. “I expect you’ll want a rest after your long flight.”

  Her feelings toward him softened a smidgen at his caring thought. Would he go so far as to turn down the bed sheets as well? If he did, God only knew what kind of irrational images her crazy mind would concoct. It had to be jet-lag that was making her so attracted to this gruff and grumpy giant of a guy. She’d never suffered from such a heady lust upon meeting anyone before. “Yes, probably a good idea.”

  He didn’t turn the bed covers down. He didn’t even acknowledge she’d spoken. He simply turned and strode from the room, closing the door sharply behind him.

  Sighing, she turned around and flopped onto the enormous bed. She couldn’t ever recall sleeping in a king-size before. Especially not one with a chocolate-colored satin cover set. Holly stretched her hands wide, relishing the feel of the satin. Her mind was a hive of thoughts and she didn’t think sleep a likely scenario. Coming to L.A. had been both an adventure and something she dreaded. Adventure because travel was one of her favorite pastimes and she’d never been in this part of the U.S. before. Once upon a time, she’d planned on visiting Daisy here but her sister’s absolute disregard for the sanctity of marriage had put a quick stop to that idea.

  Dread because of the reason she’d finally come and the knowledge she didn’t have any of the necessary know-how to hold her own amongst the glamour queens that would parade themselves at the Academy Awards. Stella had tried to convince her to choose an outfit in Australia—citing there were plenty of fabulous designers down under who’d kill to create a gown for Daisy McCartney’s sister—but Holly wanted to find something over here. Something she wouldn’t need to cart half way across the world and something she’d know would be suitable. Surely the boutiques in L.A. would know the kind of thing she was after.

  But now the dress and what the heck she’d do in terms of hair and make-up and even the heavy emotions that weighed her down whenever she thought of Daisy…they all seemed less daunting than the idea of spending time under Nate Devlin’s expensive Bel Air roof.

  Leaning over to take off her shoes, she yawned. It wasn’t until a knock sounded on the door a few hours later that she realized she’d actually slept. She sat up quickly, noted her ghastly reflection in the full-length mirror, cringed and ran her fingers through her bird’s nest hair before a voice spoke.

  Her racing heart slowed the moment she realized it wasn’t Nate.

  “Hello sweetie. It’s Ruby, Nate’s housekeeper. I’m almost off for the day but I thought you might be hungry.”

  Holly swallowed. Not only was her mouth parched but her stomach longed for food. “Thanks,” she called. “Just give me one second.” Scrambling out of bed, she located her jeans, which she didn’t even remember taking off, and yanked them on. Dismissing her shoes, she peeled back the door and almost squealed with delight at the meal on the tray in Ruby’s arms.

  Ruby laughed. “Shall you have it on the balcony?”

  “Yes, please.” Holly stared down at the Caesar salad, fresh crusty bread and a dessert of yogurt and fr
uit, before crossing the room, yanking back the curtains and unlocking the glass doors.

  Ruby followed and placed the tray on an ornate steel table.

  “You’re not going to stay and eat with me?” Holly asked.

  “Ah, no.” Ruby waved the suggestion away and blushed a little. “I need to get home to my man and feed him. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and all.”

  “Of course.” Holly smiled, trying not to show her disappointment because Ruby seemed the chatty type and she was certain she’d be able to share a few things about the elusive Nate. Yet, Ruby’s glow and the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her partner warmed Holly’s insides. “Have you been with Mr. Ruby long?”

  “Ooh, yes, years. We’re celebrating our thirtieth anniversary with a huge party next month.”

  “That’s awesome. My parents had a big celebration for their thirtieth a few years back.”

  “Ah, nothing I like better than hearing about a true romance.”

  “Me neither.” And although this was true to an extent, deep inside Holly ached. She’d married Ian hoping for long-lasting marriage, babies and a happy ever after and yet now she’d been divorced longer than she’d been married. Not that that was difficult when emotionally you’d been married less than twenty-four hours.

  “Well, my dear.” Ruby poured Holly what looked like fresh orange juice from a funky little pitcher. “I must be going but please enjoy and when you’ve finished just pop the tray in the kitchen.”

  When Ruby left, Holly sat down on one wicker chair and stretched her legs out on the other. She scooped up a fork and the bowl of salad and admired the view as she ate. The late afternoon sun baked down on the pool below, making the water glisten appealingly. If she forgot about her circumstances, this could be paradise. She’d never be able to afford to stay in a place like this on her salary. A gourmet meal prepared by someone else, weather and a view to die for, no essays to mark, no jobs that needed her attention… She could while away the evening in any way she wanted.

  And right now, the water below was begging for her to play in it.

  She finished the salad, devoured the bread, savored Ruby’s homemade yogurt and then piled everything back onto the tray. Before going in search of the kitchen, she unpacked her clothes and located her faithful black one-piece. Stella had threatened to take her scissors to it when she’d watched Holly pack her suitcase but Holly calmed her by promising to buy a new bikini when she arrived. She hadn’t been out in public in a two piece in years and she certainly wouldn’t risk wearing one around someone like Nate.

  Still, despite not wanting him to see her in a skimpy swim suit, she couldn’t help the debauchery of her own imagination as she undressed and slid into her sensible one-piece. She imagined Nate’s large, unquestionably skillful hands sliding up her body and cupping her where the material did. Heat flooded her secret spots as she pictured him finding her in the pool, ripping off his shirt, coming into the water and…

  Good God! She flopped back onto the bed, flushed at the thought and let out a scathing groan. How could she possibly be having such lustful thoughts about Daisy’s boyfriend of all people? Pulling herself together, she stood, found an orange and purple sarong in her suitcase, wrapped it round her body, slipped on a pair of flip-flops and vowed to eradicate all pathetic crush-like thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t fifteen for goodness sakes—she could control her hormones.

  Although large, Nate’s home was easy to navigate. With lots of open spaces, each room flowed into the next with little need for doors. She guessed the kitchen would be on the ground floor but couldn’t resist a quick reconnaissance of the other levels. Aside from her room, the third floor had two other guest suites and a library that would give any university a run for its money.

  On the second floor, her heart skipped a beat and she froze for a second knowing this was his floor. What time would he get home? Was he already back? Before she could stop herself, she’d pushed open the only door and was immediately hit with that scent of citrus and wood. While her nostrils inhaled the delicious aroma, her eyes feasted on his very manly space. A true token to Hollywood, his suite focused on a massive brown suede and leather bed, an enormous flat screen TV descending from the ceiling and two walls entirely made of spotless glass. She imagined the mesmerizing view at night.

  Not that you’ll ever see it, hissed a mocking voice inside her head.

  Inhaling one last time, she stepped back, closed the door and fled down the stairs.

  After scrubbing the dishes clean in a marble, deep wood and stainless steel kitchen that looked to be taken right from the pages of an interior design magazine, Holly ventured outside. Warm early evening air hit her face and she couldn’t help but smile.

  Swimming laps after the long trip and emotionally exhausting events of the day was exactly what the doctor ordered. Dumping her towel on a chaise lounge, she took a deep breath before plunging into the water. She swam for about fifteen minutes and then turned over onto her back to float.

  Her eyes had only been closed for a few moments when she registered a noise. She flipped into a standing position to see Nate towering on the edge of the pool. He still wore the clothes he’d had on earlier but the towel hanging round his neck told her he was planning a swim. Or had been until he’d laid eyes on her.

  A scowl twisted his gorgeous lips and the eyes that met hers were narrow and accusing. Despite the warmth of the sun-heated water, goose bumps took residence on every inch of her skin.

  “Hi.” She tried for a smile despite the fact her insides were shook up in a cocktail of wow and unease. When he didn’t reply, the feeling of unease intensified and she scrambled for the edge of the pool as if she’d been caught shoplifting condoms. She clambered out, trying for graceful but probably succeeding in totally undignified, and made a mad dash for her towel. Her cheeks burning, she wrapped the towel tightly around her tense body. “I was just going.”

  As she stooped to pick up her flip-flops, he spoke. “Sorry. Stay. I’m just not used to seeing women in my pool.”

  Nodding as if she totally understood, she refrained from raising her brow or cackling like a hyena. She’d bet her Ph.D there’d been plenty of women in his swimming pool. It wasn’t women he had a problem with. It was her.

  Chapter Three

  When Holly fled into the house, Nate kicked a chaise lounge and began unbuckling his jeans. He’d planned on being civil with her. He’d planned on having a quick swim to release the tension that had built up to trip-wire tightness over the day, then ask if she’d like to join him for a civilized dinner. During dinner he’d broach the subject of Daisy.

  But he’d just screwed that up big time.

  One step onto the pool deck and it had been as if someone had given his senses an adrenalin shot. One glance at Holly lying flat on her back like a mermaid catching the very last of the afternoon sun and he’d struggled to breathe. Had to be because all his bodily resources had flooded south making his jeans uncomfortably tight, which was ridiculous. He’d had plenty of women in his swimming pool. Hot women. And she was the first to make currents in a one-piece, almost prudish bathing suit.

  He ripped off his shirt and glanced back at the house, up to her room. The curtains were firmly shut, but he’d best not risk swimming naked as was his usual custom. Leaving his boxers on, he dove into the pool.

  As he churned through the water, he contemplated this strange turn of events. Holly had read his expression and staccato sentences as annoyance and, in a way, she was right. He was annoyed. Annoyed she’d taken for granted that because he’d offered her a room, she also had free rein of the rest of his facilities. But he was far more annoyed with himself. Annoyed that from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, something had shifted inside him and he’d been grappling with the dislike he was supposed to feel. Annoyed that his first thought when stumbling upon her in his pool was not that she shouldn’t be there, but rather that he wanted to be there beside her. Doing things
he’d only normally contemplate doing with women he respected and liked.

  After swimming, he showered in the changing rooms by the pool and changed into sweats. He trekked into the kitchen, still indecisive about whether or not to make Holly dinner. Whether or not to go upstairs and invite her down to have it out. Not that he planned on putting it that way.

  Despite what she probably believed, he did have some tact.

  But as well as a note from Ruby telling him dinner was in the microwave, he found a tray of clean silverware and dishes and realized his housekeeper had already fed his guest. The ball of tension in his chest tightened. Part of him wanted to wind back the clock and change history so he’d never gone to the airport at all. Another part willed him to go to her now and ask her exactly what her intentions were in coming, exactly what she wanted to achieve from suddenly acting all sister-like. Too late.

  Another part…

  His gaze shot to the intercom on the kitchen wall, which buzzed loudly indicating someone was at the entrance gate. He pushed down on the answer button. “Yes?”

  “Cab for Ms. McCartney.”

  Nate blinked. Where the hell did she think she was going at this time of the evening? He didn’t want to be involved but to some extent he already was, so if she wanted to go out, he’d damn well be the one to take her. No way was he having another life on his conscience.

  “There’s been some mistake,” he said into the intercom. “No cab needed here.”

  The driver swore and mumbled something about rich jerks but Nate lifted his finger off the button and didn’t hear the end of it. He was already on his way to the stairs.

  In the entrance hall, he halted. There, lugging her suitcase down the final couple of steps, was Holly. Her laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a handbag on the other. Red glowed at her cheeks but he couldn’t tell if she’d been crying or was about to burst with rage. Her hair was still wet but she’d changed into jeans and now wore a light pink cardigan over the top of a fitted T-shirt.