‘You had a meeting after we finished?’
‘Only on the phone, but it went on. And then on some more.’
‘Poor you. A day of listening to me, followed by an evening of listening to other people. No wonder you need a drink.’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’
The tension from a few moments ago began to slowly ease away as her soft laughter echoed down the line. ‘Maybe it’s a good job we only have two more days.’
At the start of the week he’d have been overjoyed to hear that. Now it left him feeling as if someone had sucked all the stuffing out of him. ‘I think it’s a shame we only have two more days.’
There, he’d done it. Tested the water before it was too late to try. As he waited for her to say something he shut his eyes. If she laughed it off, she wasn’t interested. He could accept that. It would even be a good thing, because he knew this was all bad timing—
‘I think it’s a shame, too.’
Her softly spoken reply caused his throat to tighten uncomfortably. ‘So, about that drink?’
‘I’d love one.’
‘Are you sure?’ Instantly he slammed his hand against his forehead and fell back on the bed. Did he want her to rethink?
‘Well I was, until you asked me again. Are you having second thoughts?’
‘God no.’ He sat up again and rubbed at his face. ‘Sorry, it’s just you didn’t seem keen when I first asked. I don’t want you to feel like you have to pander to the celebrity singer.’ He cringed. This is why he should have left well alone.
‘I don’t. I’m not.’ She let out a huff of laughter. ‘Truth is, you caught me off guard. I wasn’t asleep but I am in my pjs.’
She might have said pyjamas but immediately his mind conjured a slinky black nightdress, her curves spilling out of them. ‘You don’t have to change. I’m very happy to come to you.’
Silence. The worse kind, too, because he couldn’t see her face to pick up clues to what she was thinking. Other men made flirting look easy, yet he managed to make it look like wading through a bog, on crutches. Did he sound like a perv now? ‘Look, scratch that. I’ve put you in an awkward position—’
‘I’m in room three seventeen.’
‘Okay then.’ He released the breath that had become stuck in his lungs. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’
Good idea, or bad idea, it was too late now.
Jessie scrambled off the bed. Bloody hell, what to wear for a drink with your celebrity crush in a hotel room? And you’ve only got five minutes to change.
For two of those precious minutes she stood paralysed in front of her wardrobe. Numbly she grabbed at a pink shirt, only to shove it back because it needed ironing. She fingered the black silk top, but decided it looked like she was trying too hard. She could put on the stretch beige trousers she’d had on all day, but weren’t they a bit formal for a quick drink? Then again, other than his running gear, she’d never seen Michael in anything less than formal.
Her heart jumped at the sound of a light tap on the door. Damn it, pyjamas it was then. The bottoms she could get away with – they looked like stretchy yoga pants – but the top was way too skimpy. Hurriedly she shoved on her zip up hoodie, wondering why on earth she hadn’t asked him to give her more time.
Even if you’d had half an hour it wouldn’t have been long enough.
Yet this wildly attractive man had phoned her, hadn’t he?
A quick look in the mirror and she winced, quickly dabbing on some blusher to give her face some life.
‘Jessie?’ Michael’s smooth voice sounded through the door.
With a final pat of her hair, she went to open it.
‘Hi.’ He gave her the small, awkward smile she was becoming used to, though the eyes that rested on hers were warm.
‘Hi, yourself.’ She stepped back to allow him in, wondering how it was possible he looked even better now, tired from a long day, a dark shadow of stubble across his jaw. He still wore the dark dress trousers and pale blue shirt he’d been wearing all day. A glance down at her own cobbled together slouch look made her feel gauche and inadequate. ‘I’m sorry about my outfit. If I’d had more notice I would have put on something more appropriate.’
Embarrassment gave her voice an edge she hadn’t intended, and he immediately looked contrite. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would be finished so early, or I would have mentioned it at the studio. You look lovely.’
And now she’d shamed him into complimenting her. To hide her confusion, Jessie went over to the minibar. ‘What is it to be? Whisky, brandy, beer? As the production team are picking up the tab, I can push the boat out and offer hugely expensive peanuts.’
‘Whisky sounds good. I’ll pass on the nuts.’
She found she couldn’t look at him. ‘Straight? I’ve got no ice…’
‘Straight works for me.’
She fiddled with the miniatures, pouring his whisky and a brandy for herself, all the while aware of his eyes on her. God knows what he must be thinking, especially now she’d turned this into a pyjama party.
‘Here you go.’ She motioned for him to sit on the armchair while she perched awkwardly on the end of the bed, trying not to think that Michael Tennant was effectively in her bedroom.
He let out a long, deep sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve made you feel uncomfortable and that’s the last thing I wanted.’
Her heart thudded as she watched him knock back his whisky and place it carefully on the table.
Slowly he rose to his feet, towering over her.
‘No, I… it’s okay,’ she stammered, straining her neck to look up at him. She might feel self-conscious and slightly nervous, but no way did she want him to leave. Two days to drink her fill of him. Two days before she was sucked back into real life.
To her shock he crouched before her and clasped one of her hands. ‘No, it’s not okay,’ he said softly. ‘Truth is, I missed you this evening, but it was selfish of me to come over so late.’
His dazzling blue eyes blazed into hers and she could no more look away than she could physically move. Her body cried out to be touched, her mouth to be kissed by lips that were now only inches from her own.
He’d missed her?
In an effort to calm herself she dragged her gaze away, down to his throat, but even the sight of that was tortuously sexy.
Then she felt a warm hand cup her face and his breath stir against her skin. ‘Is this okay?’
In reply, she closed the gap between them, pressing her lips firmly onto his, letting her actions say what she couldn’t. A groan left him before he crushed her to him, easing her back onto the bed. Her breasts swelled, straining against the confines of her vest top and she almost gasped with relief as he unzipped the shapeless hoodie and smoothed his hands over her.
‘Christ.’ He gazed down at her, his breath hot and heavy. ‘I’ve got to find out if these are as stunning as I think they’ll be.’ A moan of satisfaction escaped her as his hands slid under her top, pulling it up and over her breasts before caressing their fullness. ‘More.’ He shook his head, his eyes devouring her. ‘More stunning than I imagined, and I’ve imagined them a lot.’
‘You have?’
Suddenly the man she’d crushed on for years, the same one who’d just started expertly teasing her nipples with his tongue, halted and looked up. ‘Is that okay?’
Oh God, that someone as beautiful, as talented as him, should doubt enough to ask, was beyond her comprehension. In answer she tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers, running her hands over the warm, taut skin beneath. She felt his powerful body shudder and he groaned again, the sound full of need, of want.
On a fresh burst of confidence, she reached for his belt.
Then her phone rang.
Uttering a strong oath under his breath, Michael slowly pulled away, his handsome face flushed.
‘I err, I’d better answer it,’ she mumbled apologetically. ‘It might b
e the boys.’
Disappointment weighed into her as he nodded and stood up. She felt like crying as she reached for the damn phone with its shrill, insistent ringtone.
Even more so when she saw it was only flaming Annabel. She barely choked out a greeting. ‘Hello.’
‘Well, hello there, my friend. Hope I haven’t called at an inappropriate time, you sound all weird.’
Jessie hastily jammed her breasts back into her vest top and tried to contain the hysterical laughter that threatened to escape. ‘No, no, you’re not interrupting anything. I just had to run for the phone.’ She cast a furtive glance at Michael, who raised an eyebrow.
‘You do know never to lie to a best friend, don’t you?’ Jessie shut her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. Never before had she wanted to laugh and cry so much at the same time. ‘Oh my God, I’ve caught you having a snog with the great man, haven’t I?’ Annabel’s highly amused voice continued in her ear. ‘No need to reply, I can see that would be a tad awkward. But if you want to see your kids alive again, you’d better call me back with all the details when he finally takes his hands off you.’
Jessie’s cheeks burnt under Michael’s watchful gaze. ‘Well, yes, thanks, Annabel. I’ll call you back later.’ She stabbed the call end button and flopped back on the bed.
‘Not the boys then.’
Jessie sat up and tried to gather her wits, which seemed to be stuck in the moments before the call. The moments when she’d had her hands all over Michael Tennant’s hard body. ‘My friend, Annabel. She likes to check up on me.’
‘She certainly knows how to time her calls.’ His voice was dry, his expression one of… resignation, disappointment. Relief? She couldn’t tell.
‘That’s Annabel, always there to keep me on the straight and narrow.’ The image of her unbuckling Michael’s trousers blazed across her eyes, and she felt a flush of shame. What had she been doing?
Michael took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet before wrapping his arms around her stiff, mortified body. There was nothing sexual about the way he held her now. It was kind, caring, yet it did nothing to appease her feeling of acute embarrassment. Rather it emphasised how differently they must be feeling. Him, obviously relieved the phone call had put a halt to an experience he would have later regretted. Her, gutted the phone call had put a halt to an experience she’d have remembered for the rest of her life.
‘I’d better go.’ His blue eyes seared through her. ‘You’re a special lady, Jessie, really special.’
Sure, she thought miserably. Just not special enough.
‘I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow.’ He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then left, closing the door carefully behind him.
Immediately she crumpled onto the bed and reached for her phone, her hands still trembling. ‘Annabel, it’s me. I’ve got myself into a right mess.’
Chapter Ten
Michael slept like shit. His brain had finally turned off around five in the morning, only for the alarm to kick in at six thirty. He almost reached for the off button, but instead dragged on his running kit and pounded the pavements. It didn’t look like he was going to get the release he craved, so he’d have to exhaust himself through exercise.
Bloody Annabel.
Whoever the woman was, she sure picked her moments. Another five minutes and he’d like to think Jessie wouldn’t have heard her damn phone, never mind answered it.
But she had answered it, and the moment had been lost. Hell, lost was an understatement. Lost implied it could be found. Judging by the feel of Jess’s rigid body when he’d tried to embrace her afterwards, the moment had detonated into a thousand un-put-back-able pieces.
Five miles later he dragged his sweaty body into the shower, ready for his 8.00 a.m. meeting with Georgina. Georgie.
She knocked on his door right on time, breezing inside on a cloud of expensive perfume. Immediately it made him think of Jessie. Not because the two were alike, but because they were polar opposites. One brash, confident, clothed in figure hugging designer labels, smelling of Dior or Chanel. The other warm, hesitant, her style simple. Her fragrance of choice the hotel shampoo and shower gel.
Georgina walked up to him and gave the collar of his shirt a tweak, though he could have sworn it was already straight. He felt the slight press of her breasts against his chest. Accident or design?
She smiled up at him. ‘I’ve arranged for a few of the studio staff to come to the rehearsal room at three o’clock as you asked.’
‘Thank you.’ As she was still standing close enough for him to feel uncomfortable, he stepped away and went to pick up his wallet from the bedside table.
‘I’ve also requested some evening gowns to be sent up to Jessie’s room as you suggested. I’ll help her pick one out.’
‘You’ve checked with her first though?’ He thought he’d detected an undercurrent between them and wasn’t convinced Jessie would welcome his PA’s help. ‘She might already have one lined up and I don’t want her thinking I’m interfering. I just want her to feel as confident as possible.’
Georgina tutted. ‘Don’t worry. It’s all in hand. I’ve also sorted the chauffeur to take you to the airport on Sunday morning and checked you in for your flight. Seat 1A, of course.’
As if he gave a toss where he sat on the plane, but that was Georgina – stuff it, he was never going to call her Georgie – that was her all over. Status crazy. ‘Thank you.’
‘There will be a chauffeur waiting for you at LAX to take you to the hotel. You’re in the same suite as last time.’
She stared back at him expectantly, as if waiting for some kind of reward. ‘Again, thank you.’ How many times did he need to say the words?
‘Is there anything else I can help with?’
Was her tone, her smile, suggestive or was he getting paranoid? It’s not like he was catch of the century. Apart from the money, of course. ‘That’s all from me. Might be worth checking in with Robert, in case there’s been any last-minute changes to the tour details.’
She wrinkled her nose in clear displeasure. Michael knew the pair of them didn’t hit it off. Robert thought Georgina stuck up and she thought Robert crass, but he needed them both in his life, so they had to suck it up. Whatever Georgina’s faults, lack of efficiency wasn’t one of them.
With a nod of her head she swivelled and strode out of the room, her hips swaying suggestively, crammed into a tight red pencil skirt.
He gave her a few moments – call him a coward but he didn’t want to travel down in the lift with her – before shrugging on his suit jacket and heading off out. A glimpse of his reflection in the mirror confirmed his suspicions – he looked like he was heading to a business meeting rather than a singing rehearsal. Robert would have a hissy fit.
With a sigh Michael called for the lift. The truth of it was, the relaxed look only worked if you were relaxed. Sure, he could manage a pair of jeans at home, because he could be himself. Here, today, he was Michael Tennant. And considering he was about to spend the day with a woman he fancied, but had tried, and failed, to tumble into bed, he needed the amour of a damn suit.
Jessie was already there when he opened the door to the rehearsal room. Her head was bent as she scrolled through her phone, brown curly hair hiding her face. She was so engrossed she hadn’t heard him, so he allowed his eyes a brief journey over her black satin blouse, and down to her dark navy jeans. There was a simplicity to everything she wore that made Georgina’s clothes seem totally over the top. He guessed the old saying less is more was true. Certainly, the less flesh Jessie showed him, the more he wanted to see.
Suddenly the thought of Georgina helping choose a dress for Jessie seemed like the stupidest idea he’d ever had.
He cleared his throat. ‘Good morning.’
Her head came up with a start. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there. Good morning.’
Her smile was horribly strained and it immediately triggered his own unease. He had to do
something, he realised with alarm, before they drowned in a well of their own embarrassment. As he’d been the one to make the first move last night, and as he was the damn celebrity, it was up to him to smooth it out.
‘Did you sleep well?’ And no, that wasn’t the most sensible question he could have asked. Now he had visions of her sprawled across her bed as she had been last night, her top raised, those luscious breasts taunting him.
‘Yes, thank you. Did you?’
He watched the rise and fall of her chest, gazed into her warm brown eyes, and thought sod it. ‘Honestly? No, I didn’t.’
Her eyes widened and she inhaled a sharp breath, a flush spreading across her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry.’
Michael exhaled in frustration at his own blinding incompetence. ‘No, please don’t be sorry. That’s not why I said it. I—’ He dragged a hand through his hair, wondering whether he should sing the damn words instead, because he was pretty damn competent at singing. ‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’
When she didn’t immediately reply, just continued to stare at him with huge brown eyes, he added the word he should have said at the start. ‘Please?’
‘Are we talking pizza in the rehearsal room again, because I know I need the practice. I can’t believe we’ll be doing this live tomorrow—’
‘Dinner,’ he interrupted. He might be incompetent when it came to dating, and women in general, but he could manage a civilised night out in a restaurant. ‘I want to take you out to dinner.’
Jessie looked into Michael’s earnest blue eyes and felt the breath leave her lungs. She opened her mouth to reply, but the only noise to escape was a stunned, ‘Oh.’
Disappointment flashed briefly across his face before it was replaced with his usual careful expression. ‘Sorry, it looks like I’ve put you on the spot again.’ He smiled stiffly, his beautiful voice sounding painfully stilted. ‘No doubt you already have plans for tonight. I expect your family are coming down.’
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