by CC MacKenzie
A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal
by CC MacKenzie
A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal - Introduction
Spend Christmas at Ludlow Hall.
It's the time of year for friends and families, love and laughter... and romance. All burned-out film star Mathias Carter wants for Christmas is peace and a quiet place to brood on the disaster of his love-life. But when that disaster in the shape of Eve Langan arrives on his doorstep, Matt finds one kiss rocks his world... and now he has a fight on his hands to convince Eve he's the man of her dreams.
As Christmas approaches all Bronte Ferranti wants is to spend it with Nico and her twins, while she awaits the birth of her third child... everything is going to plan... until her baby decides to be born too soon... is Bronte and Nico's Christmas going to be filled with heartbreak? Or will the magic of the festive season create a miracle?
Meanwhile Rosie is having fun preparing for her first Christmas as Mrs. Alexander Ludlow... she's got everything organised and ready for the festivities... except she's forgotten something crucial... Rosie's going to give Alexander a Christmas he'll never forget.
A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal - Copyright
By C C MacKenzie
Copyright © C C MacKenzie 2013
Published by More Press
ISBN: 9781909331068
The right of C C MacKenzie to be
identified as the author of this
work has been asserted by her
under the Copyright Amendment
(Morals Rights) Act 2000
This work is copyright.
Apart from any use as permitted under
the Copyright Act 1968, no part
may be reproduced, copied, scanned,
stored in a retrieval system,
recorded or transmitted,
in any form or by any means,
without the prior permission
of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and
incidents are either a product of
the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual people
living or dead, events or locales is
entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal - Introduction
A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal - Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Merry Christmas!
The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda
Prologue
Chapter One
About the Author
Contact Me:
Other Books by CC MacKenzie
Chapter One
The theme tune to the movie 'Jaws' swam through exhaustion to penetrate Matt's comatose brain.
He seriously hated that freaking music. Every time he heard it he got the heebie jeebies. And his agent damn well knew it. His hand slid out from under his pillow smacked the cell phone hard then tossed the big white to the floor. That was the second attempt to kill the shark this week. But just like the movie that bastard was hard to kill, and the music started up again, this time from somewhere under the bed.
He slung his arm over the side. Long fingers explored the glossy surface of solid oak until finally he gripped the cell and pulled it under the duvet.
"Unless someone's died, you're sacked," he growled.
"Har, har. I was about to tag Nico to see if Ludlow Hall had a famous dead person in the penthouse suite. Actually, if you were found dead the film would make even more moola."
With the duvet over his head, Mathias Carter groaned at the voice thundering in his ear, then yawned hugely. "It's nearly Christmas. Get a fucking life, Tobin."
"My wife, and yeah I love saying that so suck it up, says she had visions of you lying drowned in the bath."
"Bed," Matt grumbled and nuzzled deeper into his pillow. "In bed. Sleeping. Bye."
"Hold it! Hold it right there, sunshine. I've sent you a surprise, something nice."
"Nope. Sleeping. Eighteen hour flight. Tired."
"The reviews of the film are stellar, pal. Stellar," Tobin said with something like glee.
In his head Matt could see his agent doing a bum boogie.
"Fucking don't care."
"Not to worry," his friend yelled in that permanent happy clappy voice he had these days. And Matt was genuinely pleased for him, he was. But all this falling in love shit was pitiful. It was spreading like flu. Every single one of his friends had been hit hard by the love bug. Dimly he heard Tobin continue, "I care enough for the both of us. The surprise will be there in an hour. Shake a leg, shave and shower."
"Yeah, yeah. Happy Christmas to Sophie for me."
Matt turned the phone to silent, tossed it on the floor, burrowed deep under the duvet and sank like a stone into the land of nod.
Chapter Two
Half an hour later he was brought jolt upright by a heavy fist pounding on the door of his suite.
"Open up," a deep voice roared.
Swearing like a trooper, Matt lurched out of bed, tripped over jeans and stubbed his big toe on a pair of boots. If his sainted mother was alive she'd have given him a thick ear over his word choice.
With murder ripe in his heart, he threw open the door.
Nico Ferranti's brows rose as he took in six foot four inches of furious male, who was butt naked.
"Can't a man get a moment's peace in this place?" Matt snarled.
Appreciating the response to his wakey-wakey call and stinky eye that went along with the greeting, Nico's mouth twitched. Then he got an eyeful of the tight backside that figured in every woman's fantasy and the twitch grew into a wide grin.
Matt collapsed onto a deep couch covered in velvet the colour of holly berries, rested his dark head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.
Oh, he was a handsome bastard, gifted with the dark good looks of Lucifer himself. And like the devil this bad boy was a walking, talking temptation to women. When he curved that kissable mouth, a woman had palpitations. He'd make a good girl go bad and a bad girl hand him her panties. Those sentiments came directly from one Tory Jones, who manned the main reception desk at Ludlow Hall. Before Matt had been whisked up to the penthouse suite, Miss Tory was standing in front of Nico having her ear blow dried about professionalism and client privacy.
There was nothing unusual about the rich and famous staying at Ludlow Hall. Most days his staff behaved impeccably. But Mathias Carter, superstar, created a buzz just by breathing. It had always been that way. With a fond smile for happy memories, Nico remembered the way he and Matt and Alexander Ludlow used to party. Then he caught himself, he'd left all that behind him after he'd met Bronte and he couldn't be happier.
Nico kept his eyes above Matt's waist and studied him carefully. The sex symbol was not looking his best today. Hair the colour of soot fell in glossy waves to his shoulders and badly needed a cut. His pretty face was covered in two days worth of beard. But it was the dark circles under his eyes that had Nico frowning down at him.
"You look like shit," he said.
Since the response was a flip of the bird, Nico strode th
rough the sitting room into the en-suite bath.
Something soft hit Matt in the face.
A bathrobe.
"Dios, cover yourself before breakfast arrives. One look at that limp dick and it will blow the love god myth right out of the water." Nico slapped a hand over his eyes. "Put it away. I am a happily married man. I am Italian."
Not in the mood for the funnies, and by the way there was nothing wrong with his dick, Matt shrugged on the thick robe of black cotton, tied it at the waist. All the while giving Nico the beady eye. "You're so not my type," he said.
A knock at the door heralded a smart waiter pushing a trolley groaning under the weight of bowls of fresh fruit and covered platters. Matt sniffed the air like a starving wolf. Bacon. It made his mouth water. There was a big silver pot of the black stuff, nectar made by the gods, coffee.
Nico thanked the waiter and waved him away. Looking incongruous in his thousand dollar Italian suit, he lifted the pot, poured a cup, and handed it to Matt.
"Thanks." Matt sipped, and let the jolt of heat hit his belly.
Grinning at his moan of pleasure the Italian piled generous servings of eggs and bacon onto plates and placed them on a table set for two.
Nico sat, flicked a starched white napkin over his knee. "You have slept for almost twenty-four hours," he said as he tucked into brunch.
Now that caffeine had kick-started his brain, Matt joined him at the table, scrubbed a fist over two day old stubble and yawned.
"I haven't slept properly for weeks. It was the trip from Hong Kong to Sidney to New York and then London that killed me. I'm too old for this shit."
"Si, thirty-two is ancient. I will order you a Zimmer frame." Nico pointed his fork at him. "It is called burning the candle at both ends. You are coming to dinner tomorrow night. Bronte is worried about you. And as a personal favour to me Oscar is cooking," he said, referring to the infamous head chef at Ludlow Hall.
Mulling over the invitation and wondering how to refuse without offending his good buddy, Matt slathered fresh butter on a piece of hot toast and took a bite.
Not having to worry about his diet, his intense exercise regime was.... Bliss.
What was it about the taste of unsalted English butter that was so amazing.
While he wolfed down two poached eggs and a thick slab of smoked bacon, Nico topped up their coffee.
Matt took a sip before answering, "My goal is to sleep for a week, chill and relax. That's what it says in the brochures, pal. Ludlow Hall is the perfect place to relax and unwind. I need the break. For the first time in months I'm answerable to nobody. And I like it that way. Thank Bronte for me, but I don't want to socialise, dress-up or make an effort with strangers. Hell, I've no plans to shave for a week either."
Nico lost his friendly face as his dark eyes went as sharp as a blade.
Matt recognised the look.
Bugger.
"Did you not hear the part where I said my wife is worried about you?"
His friend was batshit crazy about his beautiful wife. A wife who was pregnant with their third child. And Matt knew the pregnancy had not been an easy one. If Bronte told Nico she hankered after the moon, Nico would do everything in his power to get it for her.
And Nico Ferranti's willpower was a force of nature.
Seeing no escape unless he wanted to walk with a limp, Matt gave him big eyes.
"Fine. But I'm not shaving."
Now Nico sent him a grin that reminded Matt forcibly of the big white shark he'd tried to kill this morning.
"Grazie, amico mio," the big Italian said, sounding like Don Corleone.
"You made me an offer I can't refuse. I don't want to find myself sleeping with the fishes," Matt drawled, parodying lines from 'The Godfather.'
Nico shrugged. "While you are my guest you are la mia famiglia. Be comfortable in my home. Jeans are good. I would regard it as an honour if you do not shave. It might stop my wife from adoring that pretty face."
Matt couldn't help but grin. It hadn't been too many years since he and Nico Ferranti had been out rocking the party scene. Looking at him now and seeing the change in his friend, his dark features were still hard but the dark eyes held a softness, a happiness, that was great to see. Marriage and fatherhood definitely agreed with him. And if anyone deserved to be happy it was his good pal Nico.
His good pal Nico kicked back in his chair, stretching out long legs and studied him carefully over the rim of his coffee cup.
He hadn't lied. Bronte was indeed worried about Matt. Since she was on enforced bed rest with their third child, his wife had plenty of time on her hands to watch and read the celebrity news and gossip. She'd been following Matt's world tour promoting his hit movie. And two weeks ago she'd turned to Nico and told him that there was something wrong with Matt. That his friend was deeply unhappy. That he looked like man who'd loved and lost. Watching the unhappy eyes and the turned down mouth, Nico wondered if she was right.
Under normal circumstances, he'd never dream of interfering in the personal life of his friend. Nico lived by the rule live and let live. But looking at Matt now he decided that rules were made to be broken.
"You have a face like grumpy cat. How are things with...?"
Matt glowered and did indeed resemble the famous feline. "Eve," Matt growled the word in a tone that told him he didn't want to talk about it.
If it hadn't been for the look of abject misery on that handsome face, Nico would have let it go. Then he reminded himself that Bronte was worried and that clinched it. Now he ran his tongue over the edge of his top teeth and decided to come at it from a different angle.
"She is very beautiful."
Silence.
Matt was studying the coffee in his cup as if he might find the answer to the secret of the universe.
Nico was a patient man and he knew when to keep quiet, so he waited.
Eventually Matt's blue eyes met his. "Things were great until I seriously messed up with her," he confessed in a rough whisper. "Our first kiss lasted two whole days. I should have known then I was in trouble."
The deep unhappiness and something that looked like a baffled confusion in those blue eyes made Nico wince and wish he had kept his big mouth shut.
"Si, it was the same with Bronte."
"Yeah? You've been married over three years, is it still the same?"
Poor bastard is in love, Nico thought, and he doesn't have a clue.
"The attraction grows stronger, deeper. She is my life," Nico said simply.
Tortured blue eyes stared into his. "I was afraid of that." Matt's cup clattered onto the saucer before he scrubbed his hands over his beard. "With my career and hers it's been hard to get it together, you know? And when we do get together we're shagging like rabbits... It wasn't supposed to be like this," he said in the tone of a man who was on the rack and being torn limb from limb. Then grumpy cat was back and his voice went too high. "The deal right from the beginning was that it was just great sex. She agreed. Hell, she was the first one to say that what we had was simple chemistry, that we shouldn't worry and go with the fucking flow, that this thing would burn itself out." Now he pressed his fingers into his eyes and groaned. "Shit. I've been so stupid. So... God... My brain won't function... I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't believe all this is coming out of my mouth."
Now he was on a page he understood, and had been in exactly the same place not so long ago, Nico felt an easy sympathy for his friend rise in his heart.
"Neither can I. You are in love in with her." He leaned forward to make his point. "For the heart falling in love is not a personal choice, Matt. For the heart it is a simple fact."
Matt turned wild blue eyes on his. "I hurt her, Nico. I fucking hurt her."
"How?"
Matt shook his head. "The last time we were together it got intense." His fist rubbed the spot over his heart as if to soothe an ache. "Really intense, I've never felt anything like it. We were staring at each other and it just
hit me that I couldn't live without her. Christ, I was still inside her and I could see it in her eyes that she felt exactly the same way." Again he pressed his fingers into his eyes. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff."
"What happened?" With interest Nico watched heat burned a path up Matt's neck and into his face.
"I rolled off her and walked out. Actually, no. I ran out."
"Madre di Dio."
"I'll never forget her face. She covered it well, put on a front. But I will never, ever forget her face," Matt said in a tone pregnant with self loathing. "I'm a fucking prince amongst men."
For Nico, the solution was simple. "You are in love with her and you panicked. You can fix it."
And Matt realised it was that easy and that hard.
"How?"
"After you have spent time begging forgiveness, tell her the truth."
Sounded like a plan.
But he hadn't told Nico all of it had he?
If he had he might've received a fist in his face for being a pathetic coward.
Nico stood to leave and Matt rose, too.
They shared a bicep-slapping man hug.
"I will leave you in peace. Tomorrow at The Dower House at seven-thirty and do not be late." Nico opened the door then looked at him over his shoulder. "And bring your friend."
He was gone before Matt could ask, 'What friend?'
Probably just messing with his head.
Tossing the robe on the bedroom floor, he entered a seriously awesome bathroom with a cathedral ceiling and a gorgeous sandstone arched window. The window showcased views high above a rolling countryside held firm in the grip of winter.
Matt took time to admire a seriously awesome power shower.
Bracing his palms on the wall of black granite he leaned into the jets of steaming water that blasted his body. And just like that the memory of another shower, the last one he'd shared with Eve entered his mind. The memory slid under the big brick wall he'd built around the box named, Things to deal with later.
For a man who was famous for acting the hero, there had been nothing heroic about how he'd left Eve after their last night together.