Then again, without Paul there, Evan would be able to work his magic again and make her stress disappear. She’d lose herself in him. That way, once they made it back to the suite, there’d be nothing standing between them and another night of bliss.
…
Music pounded below as bodies swarmed and writhed. The dance floor was a giant pool of sex and heat. Evan wanted to vanish into the masses with Stasia, but the studio had sent a photographer to get images of the pre-premiere party.
At first, some of the actors had been wary of having a reporter in their midst all night, but Stasia won them over soon enough. Now, it was as if she had been with him all along. She was currently in an all-female huddle with two of his co-stars—Jane and Ophelia—who were oohing and aahing over the ring. While she looked totally relaxed in their company, the ring obviously still made her uncomfortable. Ophelia had caught sight of the diamond when Stasia had tried to tuck her hands beneath her. It was all over after that.
His friend Tom, who’d penned the script and had a small part in the film, joined him at the rail overlooking the club. “How long do you think it’ll last?”
A fist clenched around Evan’s heart. This was supposed to have been easy. Help Stasia through her split, have some fun doing it, and then get back to the life he had all planned out. Instead, he found himself staring at her and wishing he would have bought her the kind of ring she’d love. Wishing there was some way this had been real instead of him getting in over his head. Dinner tonight had shown him once more, though, just how much influence Paul Travers still had on her. She had zoned out when Paul commented on the clothes and the ring—and Evan had been surprised the jerk hadn’t pounced on her during the moment of weakness. Even without Evan’s career blocking their path, there was no way there could be anything real between him and Stasia—not so long as she still cared that much about what Paul said or thought. Draining his beer, Evan turned from the women and leaned against the metal rail. “Not nearly as long as I’d like.”
Tom frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Oops. “What are you talking about?”
“The Cavern, man. It’s packed tonight, but do you really think it can stand up to the likes of TAO and Marquee long term?”
Oh. He really didn’t care one way or another. The past few days he’d learned he’d rather spend his hours curled up on the couch with one amazing woman than hopping from club to club looking for the next hot thing. Too bad it wasn’t what life had in the cards for him. There was a fine line between improving his image and turning into someone the public would find boring. “I think it’ll be fine as long as the owners don’t expect it to stay huge right off. They have atmosphere, location, and a great DJ.”
It was true, too. Rather than going with a specific theme like so many clubs, The Cavern had mixed industrial with an almost prehistoric feel. Neon lights recessed into rocks, both real and imitation, lit the space and gave the sensation of being in some otherworldly cave. More lights over the dance floor pulsed to the beat of the music. And there was chrome everywhere, reflecting the glow.
It reminded him of making love to Stasia against the windows of their suite with the lights of the Strip coloring her skin. The way her hair had rippled and glowed as he swept it off her shoulder. The moans of pleasure. How she gasped as she tightened around him.
“Earth to Evan. Come in, Evan.” He shook himself to find Tom laughing. “What gives? You’re off by yourself and barely responsive when someone talks to you. The only time I see you alive is when your new chick is around. I have to say, I thought it was all a bullshit PR stunt, but you’re really into her, aren’t you?”
“Stasia’s more than I ever dreamed I could have.” Saucy and funny, independent and beautiful, smart and sexy. And not really his, nor would she ever be. Stick to the plan, asshole. She knows what she wants, and you know what you promised her.
Tom nodded, out of sync with the rhythm coming from the speakers, the motion jarring. “Yeah.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “That’s why you look lost.”
Tom narrowed his eyes when Evan didn’t deliver a snappy comeback, then said, “Your line is supposed to be ‘I’m not lost in anything but thoughts of her.’ Anytime. We can wait. It’s just film.” When Evan still didn’t say anything, Tom frowned. “Wow, you’re off your game. I came up with ten smart-ass retorts to that already. What’s going on?”
If only Tom hadn’t hit so close to the truth with his joking. Instead of snark, Evan went with a nice, safe response. “I’m worried. She’s fitting into my world so well this week, but reality is a little less fun.”
“Any woman who manages to tame you isn’t going to be put off by long hours or cameras in the bushes.” Tom punched him in the arm and handed him another bottle. “Seriously, I’ve never seen you this anxious about a woman. And that includes the sisters who claimed you knocked them all up.”
“That’s because I knew they were lying and that would go away.” He took a long pull on the beer.
“And you don’t want this one to go away.”
No. Damn it. “All right, brilliant scribe, tell me, how does one make sure they get the girl?”
“Easy. Both real and fictional chicks dig honesty. Tell her your worries, listen to hers, and explain why they won’t matter in the long run. And if you don’t know the answers to that—figure them the hell out.” Tom clinked their bottles together. “My wife is already planning your wedding, so don’t fuck this up. No pressure.”
Nope. None at all. At least the photographer was leaving at last. Evan took another drink and then made his way to the women. “Excuse me, ladies, but I have a date with the dance floor, and if Stasia’s with me, it doesn’t count as cheating.”
Giggling, Stasia took his hand and rose from the couch. “If you’re going to have sex with the dance floor, I want to watch, anyway.”
Tom yelled from the corner where he had snuggled up with his wife, “Yeah, well, if you two have sex on the dance floor, I’m pretty sure everyone will watch. So, keep it in your pants.”
Laughter followed them down the stairs toward the main part of the club, disappearing only as the thumping bass took over. As soon as they made it to the dance floor, Stasia swung into his arms, pressing tight to him. Whatever his worries, something had changed in her. When it was just the two of them, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. Their bodies ground against each other in a rhythm made for fewer clothes. And fewer spectators.
By the time the song was over, Evan noticed they’d drawn a crowd. And not the kind he’d expected.
Under normal circumstances, he’d have posed for pictures with a bunch of the ladies in the room. That’s what always happened when he went to a nightclub like this. While a couple came over and broke into his dance with Stasia for a photo, it was mainly men who circled—but didn’t approach closer than a few feet.
As soon as the girls raced back to their friends with the snapshot, one of the guys called out. “So, where’s our show tonight?”
The music started again, and he decided the best course was to ignore the comment. Odds were the guy was spoiling for a fight, and that was the last thing Evan wanted. He pressed his lips to Stasia’s ear. “They’re drunk. Let’s just ignore them.”
She nodded and rested her cheek on his shoulder, but the carefree attitude was gone. He held her close, running his hand up and down her back. For a minute, they managed to relax into the music, and he reveled in the feel of her next to him. Maybe Tom was right. If he talked to her about everything, they could hash it all out, find a way to maybe see each other after this week. It didn’t have to be over come Friday—regardless of what his publicist had planned. As long as he figured out a way to still play the Hollywood game, maybe he could keep her, too.
Then Stasia shrieked and spun in his arms. “What the hell?” Her face was a mask of red, and she pressed her hands to the skirt of her dress, holding it tight to her sides.
“Come on. It’s not like you d
idn’t show us already.” Not the same guy. This one was closer—and not keeping his hands to himself. “We just want to see up close and personal.”
Evan started to move Stasia behind him, but there were other men there. With how bold this one had been, he didn’t trust the rest of them. “I don’t know what your problem is, but the lady and I are just trying to dance.”
A different voice this time. “Like you danced the other night, superhero? I’d pay to go to your movies if they had a little more of that in them.” Laughter was joined by the jerk pumping his hips.
Bouncers were shoving their way through the crowd, but Stasia was already trembling against him. This would turn ugly fast if he didn’t get her out of here. As it was, he wanted to pummel every asshole surrounding them. He didn’t know what the fuck they were going on about, but she was his priority, not whatever they were spewing. Sweeping Stasia into his arms, he started in the direction he’d seen the bouncers coming from. “If any of these guys try anything, kick them.”
“But—”
Evan shook his head. “Just do it.”
Whatever had the men stirred up wasn’t going to encourage them to make a path, and he wasn’t about to see what happened if he played nice and waited for help. He had the sinking feeling something had gone down already—something he wasn’t going to be able to gloss over.
Chapter Nine
Stasia had never thought she’d be so happy to see the inside of Evan’s hotel suite. When that guy had grabbed her at The Cavern, it hadn’t been an accidental graze as he brushed past. His hands had been all over her ass, shifting up her skirt. The entire incident made her feel dirty. Like a thing instead of a person. After she’d said she didn’t want to talk about it, Evan had held her all the way back to the Palazzo, whispering calming words through the curtain of her hair.
Right then, it didn’t matter who was using whom for what. Or that he’d go back to his old life—and possibly his old manwhore ways—at the end of the week. He’d made her feel safe when she’d been on the brink of being violated.
When he shut the door behind them, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. Safe. Alone with Evan she could handle. Obviously, the whole club scene was a little beyond her. Coyote Ugly had been fun, but they’d only been a known quantity there long enough for the body shots. Tonight… She shuddered again.
“Hey, babe, it’s okay.” Evan’s hands rubbed up and down her arms, chasing away the memory. Just like the hero in one of his movies, he’d rescued her from the dance floor. No hesitation, no bravado. It had been all about getting her away from the creeps.
Blowing out a slow breath, she nodded. “I know. Seems like when I’m with you, everything’s okay.”
She closed her eyes when she realized what she’d said. Way to be needy.
“Maybe we can improve on that. If you don’t want to talk about it, what can I do to make tonight better?”
The man had offered her the sun, moon, and stars this week. No matter where things ended up, she couldn’t ask for more than that, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be ungrateful for what he had given her. Twisting in his arms, Stasia looked into the deep-blue eyes of her personal hero. Evan was everything she could ask for in a man—fantasy or otherwise.
“Being with you doesn’t exactly call for improvement.” Her lips curled up as she traced the rough line of his jaw with her fingers. “Maybe I could stand to be a little closer to you, though.”
He pulled her tight against him and, giving that heart-stopping grin, asked, “This close?”
Feeling his hard length pressed to her stomach, Stasia couldn’t stop her insides from clenching. “I was thinking even closer.”
Darkness in his hooded eyes only made her wetter. “Are you sure? After those guys—”
Her fingers covered his lips before he could finish talking. Even though part of her wanted to understand what had happened, she wanted to erase it from her consciousness as much as possible. “I don’t care about them. You rescued me before any lasting damage was done, and I’d kind of like to forget all about them.” A battle raged on his face, and she knew, erection or not, he hadn’t forgotten the things the men had said. “Evan, be with me. Hold me.” She bit her lip for a second, debating the wisdom of her next words. Screw wisdom. “For tonight, love me.”
His mouth captured hers as if laying claim to it by branding himself on her lips. When he pulled away, he stood there for a minute, his hands cupping her cheeks, forehead pressed to hers. “Go get in the shower. We’re going to wash their touch off you.”
“And you?”
This time the smile was different, softer but more secretive, too. “I’ll be there in just a minute. Promise.”
Tipping her chin up, she brushed a gentle kiss over his mouth before stepping away. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I hope you hold me to a lot more than just that.”
There was definitely some serious up close and personal time in their future, but for now, the shower sounded heavenly. With the water running and steaming up the bathroom, she was out of her clothes in a minute and under the spray soon after. True to his word, Evan didn’t leave her alone long. The shower could easily accommodate both of them, but he took the closeness thing very seriously, only giving enough space between them to soap them both up before stepping under the spray again to kiss her as hot water sluiced over their skin.
His hands roved her body as if memorizing every dip and swell. “You know what? I think you’re still too tense.”
Considering the kisses he trailed down her neck were turning her legs to Jell-O, Stasia didn’t think she could agree with him. At all. “Funny. I feel nice and relaxed.”
“Nope. Definitely still tense.”
“Obviously, you’ve given this a lot of thought.” Her mind was a little too fixated on his erection and putting it to good use to worry about anything else at the moment.
“Plenty.” He twisted the water off and grabbed a towel from outside. “For your hair.” He stepped out and held open one of the fluffy white robes. “For the rest of you.”
She slipped her arms inside, letting the fabric soak up the droplets of water that clung to her skin. Evan wrapped himself in the other robe. “And now?” she asked.
“Now, I show you the best part of the suite.” He opened a door next to the shower. Flipping the switch cast a pale glow on the room. In the middle of it stood a massage table, already draped with a sheet. Evan slid her robe free, patting it against any water that hadn’t already dried, and then picked her up and laid her on the table. Every touch had been tender, like she was the most precious thing he’d ever held. “Roll over, close your eyes, and just let me relax you as much as possible.”
Stasia did as he said, listening as he snapped something open. She twitched a bit at the noise, but then settled back into position. Warm hands, slick with moisture, kneaded her shoulders and down the length of her spine. A low moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“That’s the sound of a woman letting go of all her worries if I ever heard one.” His lips brushed against her hair, breath ghosting through the strands to tickle her ear. “Don’t hold back. Not a breath, not a sound. Give me everything, babe.”
It sounded like heaven, but a minute into trying to relax, she realized that defeated the purpose. Instead, she focused on the feel of his fingers on her skin. The way his hands worked at every muscle. Soon enough, she forgot about everything else.
She might have lay there for a few minutes or a few hours. Time had ceased to have meaning. Then Evan was drawing her upright and gathering her in his arms. “Are we done?” she asked, her words slurring together drowsily.
“No, but I thought maybe we could finish in the bedroom. Unless you changed your mind about wanting me as close as possible.”
“Definitely want that.” Right now, her body felt so non-responsive she wasn’t sure she could have the promised sex, though. “I feel like I drank a lot more than I did tonight.”
“Nope. You just finally shut off your mind for a minute.” He kicked open the door to the bedroom and eased her onto the mattress. “Trust me when I say I plan to wake you back up.”
Body sinking into the mattress, Stasia wriggled even deeper. “I love when you make promises like that.”
He didn’t follow through right off. Apparently, she wasn’t relaxed enough, because the massage did indeed continue with the front of her body: arms, torso, legs, right down to the feet she hadn’t realized hurt so bad. When he started back up her legs, it felt different. Less pressure, more soothing—caresses. Only when his tongue began bathing her center did she realize he’d spread her wide on the bed.
Her back arched as he sucked on her clit, the numbness everywhere else heightening the sensitivity in that small nub. “Oh God.”
He chuckled against her, the vibration setting her trembling. His fingers took the place of his mouth when he eased up the mattress to lie alongside her. “You know the best part about this massage oil?”
“No…” She could barely focus on anything except the movement of his hand.
Evan closed his lips over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. When he let go, she was gasping for breath, and he was grinning. “It’s edible. Every inch of you tastes like strawberries. Did I forget to tell you how much I fucking love strawberries?”
He didn’t have to tell her. He showed her, his tongue tracing patterns on her skin until she writhed under his ministrations. “Please, Evan. Please. I need you.”
“Babe, I’m yours. All you ever have to do is say the word.” With a brief pause to lap at the wetness between her legs, he stood and took a condom from the drawer next to the bed. Hovering over her, he met her eyes and said, “How do you feel now?”
“Amaz—” The last syllable caught in her throat as he thrust into her, stealing her breath.
His hands toyed with her breasts as he drew out and drove back into her again, claiming her, body and soul.
He’d done it. Somehow, Evan had made her so relaxed that all she felt, all that existed in her world, was him. She had never been happier or more alive. Nothing could ruin that.
Tempting Her Fake Fiance Page 11
