The Price of Fame

by Anne Oliver

  ‘Sorry to hear that. How is it now?’

  ‘Better. Shall we get this over with, then?’

  One eyebrow rose. ‘You liked it well enough a moment ago.’

  And she had. She sure had.

  He touched her face again. ‘You should make the moves this time. Persuade him you’re hopelessly besotted with me.’

  A stiff breeze ruffled his hair. Black hair too long to call tidy, dark brows and olive skin that told her he was of Mediterranean descent. He had a square masculine jaw and prominent cheekbones. Lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes, as if he enjoyed life in the outdoors. His sensuous mouth curved easily and told her he also enjoyed more than a little indoors activity.

  Hopelessly besotted? How could she be? She’d never laid eyes on him before. And yet she couldn’t have said it better herself. And that should worry her because she wasn’t going to be lured and seduced by another man’s suave talk and good looks ever again. A man who undoubtedly knew exactly what he was doing, and did it often and well. ‘I don’t even know your name …’

  Amusement touched his lips. ‘It’s Nic. Yours?’

  She shook her head, rolled her lips together, then said, ‘I should tell you he didn’t have the wrong woman and he’s probably an expert lip-reader.’

  His gaze immediately dropped to her mouth and those dreamy brown eyes darkened. ‘All the more important to head him off, then, don’t you think? Kiss me.’

  His husky demand stroked her skin and she rubbed her jacket and the goose-bumps that sprang out on her arms beneath her sleeves. ‘I …’ Don’t kiss men I don’t know. Except she already had.

  ‘Say my name first if it makes you more comfortable.’

  As if he knew her concerns. ‘Nic.’ She liked the way it sounded on her tongue. She liked the fact that he was doing his best to put her at ease. That he’d just saved her from public humiliation. That he was possibly the most stunning-looking guy she’d ever laid lips on. ‘Nicholas …?’

  ‘Dominic.’

  ‘Dominic.’ Reaching out, not quite able to look him in the eye, she placed a tentative palm on his chest. His shirt felt warm and smooth against her fingertips. Hard muscle shifted beneath her hand—Her fingers jerked away instinctively.

  But what had Flynn said when he’d ended their engagement? She wasn’t outgoing enough, not glamorous enough, not confident enough to be any aspiring politician’s wife. That after twenty-four years as the daughter of a socially distinguished couple, she should be used to being in the public eye.

  Since then she’d made a decision to work on her shortcomings. Hence this trip. To relax, regroup and refocus on the new direction her life had taken. To work on improving her confidence. She so wanted to prove her ex wrong. Then she could move on. And hadn’t she already proved with that horrible reporter that she could be confident when it counted?

  ‘Hey,’ he murmured, catching her hand and putting it back against his shirt. ‘Just shut your eyes and go with it. If it helps, pretend I’m someone else.’

  No way. If she was going to do this, she was going to enjoy it, and that meant giving him her full attention. Her new life’s direction could afford a little side-trip along the way. Then she’d book herself a room for what was left of today and this evening. She wouldn’t have to see him again—all flights out of Melbourne did not go through Fiji.

  So she took a deep breath, then boldly moved her hand over his shirt, taking her time, enjoying the sensation as she let herself relax and acquainted herself with the rugged unfamiliar terrain. Her other hand joined in—there was … so much of him. This excursion could take hours.

  Disgruntled passengers trailing baggage and bad language flowed around them, as if they were an island in a flood-swollen river. Heavy exhaust fumes and the odour of jet fuel from aircraft not going anywhere clogged the air but all she could smell was Nic’s spicy fragrance and warm masculine skin.

  ‘Nic.’ She met his direct gaze and said, ‘Is there some woman out there somewhere who’s going to want to scratch my eyes out?’

  His lips curved boyishly. ‘I could ask the same of you,’ he said. ‘It’s a no from me.’

  Charmed against her will—and wickedly turned on by that sexy mouth—she smiled back. ‘And it’s a no from me.’

  ‘So no more procrastinating.’

  She moistened her dry still-tingly lips. ‘Is he still watching, do you think?’

  That kiss-me-I’m-gorgeous smile continued playing around his mouth as he toyed with the button on her jacket, knuckles grazing her chest, eyes locked on hers. ‘Does it matter?’

  Her nipples tightened beneath his barely there touch and the corner of her mouth curved up. ‘No.’ Not one iota. Right now it so didn’t matter. Give Stalker Man something to gawk at and enjoy herself at the same time, right? Meanwhile, the pest would get the message, find someone else to harass and she’d be free to reclaim her anonymity. All perfectly public and safe.

  ‘Nic.’ She rose up on tiptoe and planted her lips on his. Not tentatively this time. Winding her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the tips of his silky hair, surprised and amazed that she could let herself and her inhibitions fly away so easily.

  Nic’s wasn’t the smooth, close-shaven jaw she was accustomed to and the unfamiliar masculine texture tickled her chin, sending reverberations all through her body.

  Which hadn’t happened in a really long time.

  Her mouth softened and parted without any help on her part. He swallowed her sigh and quickly took the lead, his tongue sliding against hers as he shifted closer, his hands sliding over her bottom, tucking her against him. Outrageously intimate and a long way from publicly acceptable.

  She didn’t know and she didn’t care how long they stood there, locked together until she heard a man mutter, ‘Get a room,’ as he trudged by.

  Nic broke away; his head came up. ‘Sounds like good advice.’ His voice sounded a little hoarse and husky. He slid her glasses back on her face, then picked up his bag, hefted it onto his shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Wait …’

  He glanced back at her and Charlotte saw that his eyes had changed. Not just amused now, but … surprised? As if she wasn’t what he’d expected. And hungry, as if he’d like to devour her at the first opportunity. A delicious little shiver shimmied down her spine.

  She looked about at the passengers already swarming over the sky bridge towards the hotel. A curious mix of disappointment and relief threaded through her system. ‘Looks like we might already be too late.’

  Grinning, he caught her hand. ‘Then it’s lucky I booked a room earlier.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  LUCKY for him, she decided when they arrived in the congested lobby. Because now she thought about it—rationally—no way was she going with him to his room, no matter how expert a kisser he was. She’d filled her quota of daring, uncharacteristic behaviour for … oh, the next ten years or so.

  ‘Wait here,’ he told her as they entered. And as if the crowd parted for him, he made his way to the desk and spoke to one of the busy staff. But Charlotte shuffled to the end of the queue. There had to be something still available.

  He returned moments later holding a couple of swipe cards. ‘Okay, we’re set.’

  She shook her head. ‘Thanks for everything, but I want to book my own room.’

  Quirking an eyebrow, he grinned. ‘You don’t trust me after all we’ve shared?’

  And that was the thing, wasn’t it? She’d shared all that with a stranger. ‘So why did you kiss me?’ she murmured as the crowd milled around them.

  He grinned. ‘You can ask me that when you called me honey pie?’

  There was that. ‘You could’ve just stopped at “get lost”…’

  His grin vanished. ‘I don’t like bullies.’ He shrugged but she saw the tension in his shoulders. ‘I just reacted.’

  And she knew right then that he’d had firsthand experience with harassment. Something in his own past had trig
gered his Good Samaritan act. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘If I—’

  ‘Please don’t apologise.’ I enjoyed every memorable mind-numbing second.

  ‘Why would I apologise?’ The grin was back. ‘I’m not the least bit sorry. Are you?’

  Not at all. But it was over. ‘Thanks for your help but I still want to get my own room.’

  ‘With this crowd?’ He shook his head. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’ He guided her to the business side of the desk, a light hand at her back. ‘Kerry, this is …?’

  ‘Charlotte.’

  ‘Charlotte.’ He said her name like a caress, his eyes lingering on hers as he said, ‘Is there anything you can do for my friend here?’

  Kerry, an attractive blonde with cornflower-blue eyes, barely looked up, her fingers busy on her keyboard. ‘Sorry, Charlotte, we’re fully booked. But Nic spoke with me and we’re happy for you to share at no extra cost.’

  Their earlier performance played in front of Charlotte’s eyes like some hot romance movie. A public kiss was one thing, sharing a room with a guy she knew next to nothing about was something else, no matter how chivalrous he seemed. ‘It’s okay.’ She tightened the grip on her bag and prepared for a long evening ahead. ‘I’ll buy a book or magazine and find somewhere else to wait.’

  Kerry flicked Nic a look, then motioned Charlotte aside. ‘My partner, Steve, and I have known Nic for years. He’s an okay guy. You’ve got the chance to spend the next twelve hours or so in comfort; I’d take it if I were you.’

  Charlotte nodded. ‘Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘Your decision.’ Kerry inclined her head. ‘Excuse me …’ She was already moving away to deal with a woman who had one hysterical child attached to her leg.

  ‘Look, you take the room.’ Nic pushed a swipe card into her hand. ‘I’ll use the gym, catch up on some work at the business centre, then chill out in the terminal. I’ll let you know when they’re flying again.’

  ‘Oh, no. That’s very generous but I can’t accept.’ It just wouldn’t be right. ‘I’ll wait in the terminal.’

  He frowned towards the lobby’s entrance. ‘What if our friend turns up again? The jerk’s persistent enough. And sneaky enough.’

  Charlotte’s skin crawled and she couldn’t help glancing towards the crowded entrance. ‘Then I’ll just come clean with him and maybe he’ll leave me alone. About that … I should probably explain …’

  ‘But you don’t want to. And that’s okay, I don’t need to know your business. Here’s what we’ll do.’ He curled his hands around her upper arms. ‘We’ll check into the room together, then I’ll park my stuff and leave you to it. Okay?’

  There was an openness and honesty in those dark eyes. So attractive, so alluring. And something she hadn’t seen since that last time her father had kissed her goodbye and called her his princess. Right before her family had climbed aboard the doomed helicopter …

  Her father had been the one man she’d always been able to count on. To trust. Somehow she imagined Dad would approve of Nic. That he’d tell her she could trust him too.

  She nodded once, but for the life of her she couldn’t make her voice work.

  ‘Right, then, that’s settled.’ He took charge of her bag and they walked towards the elevators.

  They didn’t speak in the crowded lift. Nor as they walked down the dim, thickly silent corridor to their room. Nic swiped his card in the slot, motioned her through, then followed with their hand luggage.

  The clouds had rolled away, leaving a hard blue sky. Blinding late afternoon sunshine flooded in, reflecting off the distant tarmac where scores of stranded aircraft waited for the ash cloud to lift. Her temples throbbed with the light’s intensity and the memory of a dull headache from earlier echoed at the back of her skull. She drew the heavy drapes closed. And with the imprint of their kiss still hot on her lips, she realised immediately how her action might be misconstrued.

  The room was plunged into semi-darkness and the intimacy wasn’t lost on Nic. Shadows softened Charlotte’s features but he could see the puckered brow, the tense stance as her fingers twisted on the edge of the curtain. She wasn’t comfortable with the situation.

  Nor was he, but for entirely different reasons. He’d been in a painful state of arousal since he’d discovered she tasted even more luscious than he’d imagined—and he’d imagined quite a lot. He indicated the closed drapes. ‘Headache still bothering you? Do you want to take a nap?’ Do you want me to join you?

  ‘No to both, but thank you.’ Something flashed across her eyes, as if she shared his let’s-get-naked thoughts. But maybe her tension wasn’t the anticipation he hoped for because she only said, ‘I might watch TV awhile. If that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Fine. Make yourself comfortable. I’m going for a run.’

  Without looking at her, he yanked a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes out of his backpack and went to the bathroom to change. He needed to release some of his own tension and a dose of cold Melbourne air would cool his blood. The colder the better.

  He splashed water on his face and checked himself out in the mirror. A smear of her lip gloss glistened on his lips. He smiled at his reflection as he rubbed it away. Now he knew. Ms Neat and Conservative on the outside wasn’t so conservative on the inside. Perhaps they could—

  He shook the images away, ran his fingers through his hair and glared at himself. He’d offered her refuge. And that changed the rules. It was entirely her call if she wanted to take it further. Still … He shook his head and turned away from the mirror. Absolutely not.

  He considered taking a cold shower but decided against it. Getting naked and knowing she was probably spread out on that bed watching TV wasn’t going to do him any favours.

  When he returned from the bathroom, she was standing right where he’d left her. The big screen was still blank, the room was still silent. But the atmosphere had changed. Her fragrance and the scent of her skin smelled sharper, warmer. Damper. She must have turned up the thermostat on the air conditioning because it felt a damn sight hotter in here than it had moments ago.

  Her eyes skimmed down his body and he felt as though a thousand fiery pinpricks had blistered every square centimetre of skin.

  Then she snatched up the TV remote. Put it down. Drew in a sharp breath as if she’d come to a decision and was wondering whether to let him in on it.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Look, I don’t want to kick you out of your room. Please. Stay. I’m fine with it.’ Her gaze shifted to the double bed, then snapped back to him and he swore the air around them crackled. ‘In fact, I’d feel a lot better if you stayed.’

  Yeah? He smiled—so would he. ‘Okay …’ That glint in her eyes … Hot. Wary too, but definitely hot. His whole body tightened, stiffened, and a bead of sweat trickled down his back. In a deliberately casual move, he laid his discarded clothes on the back of the office chair at the desk. ‘So what’s your real name? Or aren’t we going to get into all that?’

  ‘I told you, it’s Charlotte.’ She slid her palms down her skirt as if they were sticky. ‘But no surnames, no talking about ourselves and swapping life histories. We’ll be gone tomorrow.’

  His thoughts precisely. So … she wanted to play … Nothing personal, nothing complicated. One night. This had to be his lucky day. The surprise of it, and of her, was like a mid-winter’s heatwave. ‘Fine by me.’

  ‘I’m going to take a shower now,’ she said, suddenly and randomly, as if plucking the words from the increasingly sultry atmosphere. ‘Alone.’ She moved to her bag, unzipped it, then tossed him an I-mean-it look over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you shortly.’

  ‘Right.’ So she wanted time to get ready; he didn’t mind waiting. ‘I’m off for that run, then. When I get back …’ at the door, he looked her over the way she’d looked at him—though he might have lingered a tad longer ‘… we’ll see how we get along.’

  He took the stair
s down to the lobby two at a time. He saw Kerry amidst the carnage, sticking a sign on the door advising alternative accommodation, and stopped.

  ‘Is your friend okay?’ she said, giving him a quick glance as she smoothed the sign in place.

  ‘She is.’

  She shook her head on her way back to the desk. ‘And by that glazed look, I’m guessing the drinks invite’s off the board now. How do you do it, Nic? You’re like honey to a bee.’

  ‘My magnetic personality, babe. And it was a mutual decision to share the room, under the circumstances.’

  ‘Of course it was,’ she said, amused. ‘You’re obviously her hero. I’d hate you on behalf of all women if I didn’t know you better.’ She waved him off. ‘Now go away. I’m too busy and too married to be sidetracked by a charmer like you.’

  He grinned—charm had nothing to do with it. Fate had played right into his hands. Man, he had to love volcanoes. Even lousy reporters.

  ‘And if you’re not careful, Nic,’ she was going on as she resumed her seat in front of her computer, ‘one of these days you’re going to find yourself charmed right back and life as you know it now will be a distant memory.’

  He gave her a wave as he moved off. ‘Not gonna happen.’

  Kerry didn’t look up from her screen. ‘Uh-huh.’

  He took the elevator, jogged across the sky bridge and onto grass, dodging passengers, following the arrivals road and outdoor car-parking, his mind reliving their up-close and the way Charlotte had responded. As if she couldn’t get enough. He grinned to himself as he waited at the kerb for an airport bus, then crossed a median strip and headed for a line of bushes. Who’d have thought? Charlotte whoever-she-was was one hot babe.

  And she was waiting in his room. Their room.

  So what the hell was he waiting for? Why was he out running in this cold blustery wind when he could be getting better acquainted on that big wide bed with a woman who, if he was reading her right, wanted the same thing?

  Because he’d already decided to run before she’d given him the hot look. Then chosen to take a damn shower—alone. She’d made it abundantly clear. She’d needed time. Fair enough. And now he thought about it, he wanted to give her that time to mull it over and be sure. Because he was sure he didn’t want her backing out once they got started. In fact, he was so ready to get started, his body so tightly wound and hot, it was a wonder he could move at all.