Ignoring the questions and rude remarks being thrown at them, he pushed through the photographers and managed to maneuver Holly onto the Viper’s passenger seat without causing her too much extra pain. She didn’t so much as squeak, so he assumed success.
Once they were both in the car and he’d pulled away from the curb, he became aware of heavy breathing. Holly’s. He glanced sideways to take a good look at her and noticed tears glistening in her eyes. The usual guilt washed over him that once upon a time he’d been the type of person to cause this kind of fear.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“What do you care? You’re one of them,” she spat, the ferocity of her words assaulting him.
No matter her words were almost identical to the thoughts he’d just been having, he didn’t take kindly to being judged. Maybe more so because of the truth they held.
“Not anymore, I’m not.”
Silence reigned between them for a few minutes. Her breathing slowed. She wiped her eyes with a tissue from her handbag and then finally spoke again. “Where are you taking me?”
No apology, no thanks, then. “To the hostel,” he answered gruffly.
“Thanks.”
“To collect your things.”
Her head snapped to face him so fast he heard the whoosh of air as she moved. “What exactly are you plotting?”
He sighed, this conversation already felt like déjà vu. “Didn’t that little episode back there show you something? You’re famous here. You can’t just waltz around pretending otherwise, and staying at a public hostel is ridiculous. How long before one of those photographers pays for a bed in the room you’re sharing? Or one of your fellow backpackers decides they need some extra cash to see them through? You’re not safe there, Holly.”
“So, where will I be safe?”
“With me.” He didn’t plan on acting on his desire—he only had to think about what she did to Daisy to douse the flames—and his house was more protected than a high security prison. Besides, if he took the rest of the week off work, he could be her personal bodyguard and make sure no harm came to her until she boarded the plane for Australia.
She didn’t argue or even say another word until they got to the hostel and he requested instructions on what he needed to collect of her belongings. There was her laptop in the hostel safe and everything else was packed neatly in a bag on her bed. He found it easily and was back to the car within five minutes.
“How’s your foot?” he asked as they weaved through midafternoon traffic to his place.
“Achy,” she said—tension filled the car and her reply.
“I’ll have a look at it when we get back.”
Ruby met them at the door, her eyes widening and her mouth gaping open as she saw Holly in Nate’s arms. He didn’t want her to put pressure on her foot until he’d taken a proper look and decided whether she needed medical attention.
“Can you make up a bed in the living room for Holly?” he asked Ruby. “And then fetch her things from the car, please.” All the guest rooms were on the upper floors but he didn’t want Holly having to take the stairs in her condition.
“Sure.” Ruby toddled off in the direction of the linen closet and Nate took Holly through to the living room.
He laid her down on one of the two sofas, and for one shocking moment an image flashed through his mind of her laying there naked and him equally naked on top of her. Shaking the thought away, he mentally slapped himself as he headed for the kitchen in search of an ice-pack in the freezer. Sex hadn’t been frequent lately, which had to account for why he was having all these undesirable thoughts about Holly.
* * *
Holly watched Nate’s gorgeous behind retreat from the room and let herself sink back into the couch. Despite the comfy-ness of his plush furniture, she wasn’t at all comfortable with this scenario. But really, what other option did she have? As much as she hated to admit it, Nate had talked logically when he’d outlined the reasons she couldn’t stay at the hostel. Even at an expensive hotel she’d have the worry of the paparazzi looming over her. Was there anywhere safer than actually staying with one of them?
She had no doubt Nate’s past career gave him the knowledge to protect her from unwanted attention. Just a pity he thought so lowly of her and her body sang symphonies of lust whenever he came near it.
A flood of desire swamped her as she recalled the way he’d effortlessly swept her up into his arms and carried her to his car, then carried her again when they’d arrived here. His absolute strength made her feel light, feminine. It got her imagination churning over time with the most unlikely of scenarios, which had in turn put her defenses on high-alert and made her act more cranky toward him than necessary. Perhaps she should apologize.
Amidst this thought, he swept into the room. She noticed the tie he’d been wearing earlier had been yanked from its position around his throat and the top two buttons were now open. He came close, knelt down beside her and she peered like a love-sick loon at the skin now visible below his neck. Beautifully tanned skin speckled with the lightest but very masculine splattering of chest hair.
Thank the Lord she was already lying down because her head positively swooned. Had she bumped it when she’d fallen to the ground?
Hopefully oblivious to her errant fantasies, he reached out and caressed her calf.
She bit her lower lip to stop from moaning—pleasantly—at his blissful touch. Get a grip girl. He’s not caressing. He’s assessing.
But the way he trailed his thumb under the arch of her foot again took all the pain away.
He placed a tea-towel covered ice-pack against her foot and wrapped an elastic bandage around to keep it in place. She gasped at the cold.
“It’s looking a lot better now.” He reached behind him for a television remote and also magicked a hand held bell from somewhere. “You rest up and call Ruby if you need anything.”
He’d gone before she had the chance to thank him.
She channel surfed for the next couple of hours. Ruby flitted in and out bringing her coffees and offering food, but mostly Holly thought about how badly she’d treated Nate. No wonder he believed Daisy’s lies about her. She’d been acting like a nasty, spoiled brat since he’d rescued her.
At about half-past five she heard voices at the front door and worked out Nate was saying goodbye to Ruby. She took off the bandage and tested her weight on her foot. It seemed fine so she walked across the room.
When she heard the front door close and Ruby’s little compact car start up in the driveway, she ventured out to find Nate.
She located him in the kitchen and went in for the kill before he’d even noticed her. In her experience, when you were in the wrong, there was only one way to say “sorry” and that was fast and firmly.
“I’m sorry, Nate.”
He swung round from where he’d been staring into the fridge and glared at her. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of me? And what are you doing putting pressure on your foot?”
“It’s fine now.” She ventured farther into the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast bar, pointing her foot out to show him.
He looked at it and then up at her, questionably. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I was in shock before, which amplified the pain, I think. The ice helped.”
He grunted.
Talk about awkward. Maybe she should just come straight out and tell him her side of the story about Daisy and Ian, but chances were he’d still side with Daisy and the tension that hung between them would sky-rocket even further. Aside from that, she’d made a promise to her parents not to create more gossip—they didn’t want her sister’s memory sullied.
He closed the fridge and crossed to the bench to glare at the hanging pots and pans. “You hungry?” he asked eventually.
She blinked, wondering if he was going to offer to make her dinner. Or maybe he wanted her to cook for him. “A little,” she admitted with a nod.
“Do
you want to go out?”
“Go out? With you?” She didn’t mean to sound quite so horrified by the idea.
He chuckled. “No, with the rich, old pervert next door.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “Okay then.” If she sounded tentative, it was because she wondered if this was the worst thing she’d ever agreed to. The man could barely stand to look at her, but he’d taken her in, treated her ankle and offered her a bed, so it didn’t feel right to throw his offer back in his face. Hadn’t she come to him with the intention of making some kind of truce?
Then there was the fact she really wanted to see more of L.A. and with Nate by her side while she did so, she’d be more likely to avoid the camera stalkers and not get herself into any more scrapes. Anticipation began to bubble within. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace really good.”
* * *
Nate shut the bedroom door behind him as he stalked to the walk-in-closet to choose an outfit for dinner.
Dinner. Out. With Holly. How the hell did he get himself in these kinds of scrapes? He couldn’t imagine they’d have anything in common and there was nothing worse than sitting silently and awkwardly in a restaurant all evening. Especially when you knew the awkward evening wasn’t going to end in sex. Not that he hadn’t thought about it—he was male after all—and Holly, although in a totally different way to Daisy, was heat-your-pants hot.
If they weren’t sharing a house—he didn’t do uncomfortable morning afters. If she weren’t being stalked by the paparazzi… If she wasn’t the wicked sister of his dead lover… Maybe. As it stood, there were too many things working against a carefree night between the sheets because even he didn’t sleep with women he couldn’t respect.
In theory, this knowledge should make the evening less stressful.
He yanked clean trousers and a shirt off the rail and threw them on the bed. While dressing, he called up one of his favorite restaurants on speed dial and reserved a table. Ten minutes later he stood by the front door, tapping his feet as he waited for Holly. Despite something about her being different to most of the women he knew, she took equally as long to get ready. Finally, just when he was contemplating delaying their reservation, he heard movement behind him and looked around to see her coming down the corridor.
“Wow” slipped out of his mouth before he realized. She wore a killer dress and had scooped her hair in some kind of up do, which showed off the pale perfection of her neck. Pity he didn’t want to think wow thoughts about her.
She smiled at him but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her body, her hands clasping opposite elbows, masking her gorgeous curves and the dazzling royal blue dress. “I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
She stopped in front of him and, without thought, he pulled her hands out of the way so he could see properly. The classy dress pinched in at the waist to showcase her womanly figure. A spark shot through him at the contact. She flinched. Had she felt it too?
“That dress will be perfect,” he said, more gruffly than intended. And because he liked to give credit where credit was due, he added, “And you look absolutely stunning.”
“Really?” She blushed a little. “I mean, thanks.”
They stood silent for a second. He was all too aware this wasn’t a date and he shoved his hands in his pockets, battling the urge to touch her again. Because he’d closed the gap between them, she now stood so close he could kiss her. If he felt that way inclined.
“Shall we go?” he asked instead.
She nodded. He held the door for her then set the security system. They walked in step to his car and he held the door open as Holly climbed into the passenger seat.
While Nate got into the car and drove through the automatic gates, Holly stared out the window. He shifted in his seat. If they couldn’t find safe ground to make conversation in the car, how the hell were they going to make it through dinner?
“So what do you think of our city?” he finally asked.
She twisted her head to look at him. “It’s everything I imagined, I guess.”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. But it’s pretty in a bright lights, chaotic kind of way. And I’ll never look at palm trees in the same way again.”
“Yes, Angelinos do have a bit of a fixation on palm trees. Have you got something against palm trees?”
She laughed tentatively. “No. I thought we were just making small talk.”
He chuckled. “We don’t have to, you know.”
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to have a heart-to-heart instead?”
“Well…” He was never caught for words but she had him stumped. Of course he didn’t want a heart-to-heart. He’d meant they didn’t have to talk at all. Hell, he couldn’t recall the last conversation of substance he’d had with anyone—this was Tinsel town for Pete’s sake—and he liked it that way.
She turned completely to face him. “Why did you ask me out for dinner, anyway?”
Good question. There was only one thing he wanted to quiz her about and she’d already made it quite clear she wouldn’t enter discussion about that. “You were there. I was hungry. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“And do you make a habit of doing the right thing?”
Discomfort washed over him. What kind of question was that? He shrugged as if to say he’d never given it much thought. “That’s edging very close to deep and meaningful territory.”
Without another word, she turned back to look out the window. He quashed an uncharacteristic urge to share a piece of himself, anything so she’d turn around and look at him with those serious but sensual, lilac eyes. Eyes he’d desperately wanted to photograph since first seeing them at the airport.
Instead, he focused on the road.
Finally they turned into Rodeo Drive. They passed a row of famous and expensive boutiques all lit up like a Christmas display and came to a stop in front of Skyhigh. Having an in with the chef, he had access to the staff parking lot. They left the Viper there and then walked around the front of the unobtrusive building.
“Where’s the restaurant?” She looked ahead to Skyhigh’s dimly lit black door, squashed between two slightly less elite boutiques, and frowned.
“Right here.” He stopped and gestured at a tiny gold door bell positioned smack-bang in the middle of a black door.
“Is this someone’s house?” Holly asked. “Or…”
He didn’t get to hear her other option before the door opened and a maître d’ dressed more like a king greeted them. “Good evening Mr. Devlin, Ms. McCartney.”
“Evening,” he replied, stepping inside. The door was quickly shut behind them.
Holly blinked and then smiled a smile far more natural than anything she’d ever offered him. “Good evening.” She looked down at the plush burgundy carpet beneath their feet and then her wide-eyed gaze traveled down the stairs almost immediately in front them. Delicious aromas and soft jazz music drifted up from below. He’d been here plenty of times before but, for the most part of his life, he’d barely known these kinds of places existed, never mind been able to attend them. It wasn’t until he’d started hanging out in elite places, waiting to snap celebrities, that a whole other world had opened up to him. It was photographing those celebrities that had made him his fortune and given him the wherewithal to mingle with the L.A. elite.
“Follow me.” With a brief smile the maître d’ descended the stairs. At the bottom, he turned and offered his hand to assist Holly off the last step.
As they headed to a table, Nate kept one eye on Holly and the other on a lookout in case they ran into any of his acquaintances. Most people were too consumed in their cocktails or themselves to turn a head as he and Holly walked by.
At the table, the maître d’ pulled out the seat for Holly. Before they were settled a waiter descended upon them, gushed about how fabul
ous it was to serve them this evening and then offered the drinks list. Holly ordered a cocktail and Nate asked for a cola.
Once they were alone, she looked around quickly again and then glanced up at the ceiling, painted jet black but covered in tiny glittering lights that lit the restaurant like a starry night. “This place is something else.”
He followed her gaze upward. “Those are actually the stars you can see above L.A. on a clear night.”
“They’re beautiful.” She lowered her eyes to look at him again. “Thanks for bringing me here. It’s the first place I’ve been to today where I haven’t been recognized or mauled.”
Anxiety washed over him at the thought of her lying on the sidewalk. He pushed all emotion aside. “You should have been prepared for the attention. Someone should have warned you. Didn’t Daisy’s legal team or agent get in contact with you and explain what it would be like?”
“Maybe,” she relented, “but it’s never been like that before. The Australian press were never interested in me until…”
Her words were cut off by the arrival of their drinks.
As she took the first sip of her strawberry pink cocktail, he said, “I’m surprised you don’t have a handler.”
“I was offered one, but I declined.” Holly glared at his raised eyebrows. “Relax, someone is picking me up for an interview on Friday and I’m sure I could call on someone if needed. But I didn’t want this to become bigger than it is. I don’t like being the center of attention.”
“Fair enough.” He didn’t much like it either. “What were you doing on Rodeo Drive then?”
“I went looking for a dress.”
He gestured toward her. “The one you’re wearing?”
“No.” She smoothed the silky material across her lap. “But I did buy this today. It was one of many guilt buys.”
“I’m confused.”
She groaned. “You already think I’m naive, so I may as well confess to stupidity as well.”
“What are you talking about?”
Holly hung her head, not wanting to see the look in Nate’s eyes when he heard what she had to say. “I haven’t organized a gown for Saturday night yet.”
Stand-In Star Page 6
