To Catch a Star

by Romy Sommer

  She scrolled to her missed calls. Stefan.

  “Please excuse me.” She rose, stepping away from the group as she dialled his number.

  “Where are you?” Stefan’s voice was barely audible over a shout of laughter from the other end of the bar.

  She covered her other ear so she could hear Stefan better. “We have a late start tomorrow, so we’re out having a drink tonight.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “A bunch of crew and cast.”

  “Is Christian Taylor there?” There was too much ambient noise for her to hear if there was any jealousy in his tone. She doubted it. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.

  “Of course.”

  “You were going to call me.”

  “Not until ten.” She glanced at her watch. Heavens, how had it got so late?

  “Can you go some place quieter?”

  “Sure.” She elbowed through the crowd to reach the doors at the back of the bar that led to a paved courtyard around a stone fountain. In the summer she was sure it would be packed. Now even the die-hard smokers had abandoned it. The fountain stood ghostly still, decorated with an intricate frieze of frozen icicles.

  She’d left her jacket slung over the back of her chair.

  “I’ve changed my flight.” Stefan sounded grim.

  “Are you coming home earlier?” She wrapped her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stave off the cold. Her jersey dress was not designed for outdoors in midwinter.

  “I have to go to Paris on the weekend, then Stockholm for a couple of days.”

  A shiver of foreboding ran down her spine. Or maybe it was just the cold. “When will you be back?”

  “The twelfth.”

  A whole week away. “But that’s only two days before the wedding!”

  “I know and I’m sorry. It can’t be helped. This is an important trade agreement we’re setting up and the negotiations are proving problematic. I can’t abandon them now. I promise, I’ll have this locked down before we get married and then I’m all yours.”

  Until after the honeymoon, then it would be back to the endless travelling. She’d lived her entire life with a workaholic. She knew the deal. She wiped a hand across her eyes. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Of course it was. She liked that he had a life and interests of his own. She liked that he had an important role to play.

  She just hadn’t thought being in a relationship would feel so lonely.

  “What about the wedding rehearsal?”

  “Move it to the afternoon I get back.”

  She closed her eyes and counted to ten. This would mean moving the rehearsal dinner too. A new venue and a new caterer at the very least. Not to mention the hundreds of phone calls, to the guests, to the press. And they’d need a new security plan for the visiting dignitaries.

  She rubbed her forehead. “It’ll be a lot of extra work to move everything.”

  “If you can’t cope then quit that daft job. This is not like you, Teresa. You’re usually so reasonable.”

  Yes, that was her. Always the reasonable one. The one who quietly stayed home and kept everyone happy while they went out to play. Her mother with her acting career. Her father and his career. Now Stefan and his job.

  Tears burned her throat. She’d tried so hard not to turn into her mother. She’d been reasonable and accommodating. She’d done as she was told. She’d stayed close to home, played hostess at her father’s parties, run his household while he worked, and worked, and worked.

  And all she was doing was swapping her father’s household for Stefan’s.

  She choked on the thought. With blinding clarity she understood how her mother had felt. Trapped.

  She couldn’t breathe. She tore at the scarf around her neck, needing air.

  “Are you still there?”

  “I’m here.” But not for much longer. She needed to get back indoors. Her toes were already numb. These shoes were not designed for outdoors either.

  Maybe this was what they called wedding jitters. She regained control. “I can’t quit the job just yet. Besides, it’s only a few more days.” She sighed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I have Anna.” And Lee. She pulled her shoulders straight. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not being very supportive. It’s just a shock. Of course everything will be alright, and I’ll see you on the twelfth.”

  “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  She nodded, even though he couldn’t see. “Take care.” She ended the call and stared at the phone, as a voice from long ago filtered through her thoughts.

  I’m tired of being so alone.

  Her mother had said the same thing as she’d walked out the door. Tessa shut down the thought just as a door behind her swung open. The raw emotion was not so easy to subdue.

  Take care. Not I love you.

  Christian pushed the door wider and stepped out into the courtyard. He’d heard enough of that conversation to get the gist.

  Teresa looked unhappy, and he didn’t blame her. What kind of man could keep away from such a gorgeous bride? Her fiancé had to be insane not to want to be with her at every possible moment.

  Christian couldn’t seem to keep away.

  He kept his face expressionless as he stepped forward into the light. She’d spoken in local dialect and it didn’t suit him to admit he’d understood every word.

  “I brought your jacket.” He held it out to her. “I thought you might be cold.”

  Especially in that dress.

  Her only concession to the cold was a lightweight scarf wrapped around her neck. She wore a charcoal-grey wrap-around dress that clung to breast and hip, nude stockings and heels so high she almost looked him in the eye. Heels so damned sexy he almost didn’t give a damn that she wore a great big flashy diamond on her left hand.

  But she was as good as a married woman, and unlike Dominic he had rules about things like that. He didn’t mess with other men’s wives. Even if that man was out of town and no doubt living it up while his fiancée waited patiently at home for him.

  “I am cold.” She shivered as she slipped on her jacket. “Thanks.”

  He stepped closer to lift her pale hair out from under the fur-trim collar. Her eyes widened momentarily at the intimacy, but she didn’t flinch back.

  “Let’s get you inside.” He stepped back and headed indoors, into the darkened passage that led to the toilets. Once they were both inside, he shut the door behind them. Instantly, the temperature went up a few degrees. He took the phone from her lifeless hands, stuck it into her jacket pocket, and began to rub some life into her frozen fingers.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Pause. “No.”

  “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “I should leave. I’ll call a cab. I need to move the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Not right now, you don’t. Besides, it’s Sunday night. What you need to do is have another drink.”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re cold and it’ll warm you up. Then I’ll call Frank to take you home.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” Only it wasn’t a promise he intended to keep. Not until much later.

  She was upset. She needed a drink for more than its warming qualities. And she really needed to loosen up and have a little fun. Heaven only knows her fiancé probably was, wherever he was.

  Thank heavens Dominic had texted him to get his butt over here. Though to be more precise, Dom’s message had read Your Ice Queen is wearing red heels. If you don’t take your chance tonight, I will.

  Christian hadn’t been able to get there quickly enough. And if he was honest with himself, it had less to do with a chivalrous urge to protect Teresa from Dom’s attentions than a desire to see her in these red heels. They’d been worth setting aside his anger for. Though the laps he’d done in the hotel’s indoor pool had helped with that too.

  He took her hand and dragged her back to the group in the bar. The music and laughter were
even louder now. There’d been more arrivals and more chairs had been brought in for the newcomers, tightening the circle. When Christian returned to the group with two more of the lurid cocktails, he found himself squashed up against Tessa, his thigh pressed against hers. He slung his arm across the back of her chair.

  She leaned back, trustingly, into his protection.

  The victory was bitter-sweet. He rubbed the back of his neck. Wasn’t that just his luck? She finally thawed, his seduction objective finally seemed possible – and she’d just shot straight from being a challenge to being forbidden.

  He downed his drink and waved to the waiter for another.

  When she’d finished her drink, sipping far more sedately than he had, Teresa didn’t ask him to call for his car. And he didn’t offer.

  Another round, and the crowd began to thin. Dominic gave Christian a ‘cheers, dude’ and a fist pump, and left with his arm around the pouty brunette.

  “Hey, it’s early yet!” Christian objected, as the last of the group rose to leave.

  “We don’t all have a late call tomorrow,” Gerry said, downing the last of his Malibu and diet cola. “You guys get home safe now.” He pinned Tessa with a stern look. “You’ll make sure he gets to the studio on time tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  Then it was just the two of them.

  Her unruffled serenity might have fooled Gerry, but she didn’t fool Christian.

  Tessa’s eyes were over-bright, her cheeks pink. But the biggest clue that the alcohol had done its work in loosening her up was the way her shoulders relaxed. She leaned back in her chair, against his arm, which lay once again across the back of it.

  “Shall I call Frank?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s the middle of the night. He’s probably asleep.”

  “I’ll ask the barman to call us a cab, then.”

  Her eyes followed the barman mixing drinks behind the counter. “I know it’s not the sensible thing to do, but I don’t want to leave yet.”

  “I know the feeling. My home is a hotel room, remember?”

  “Suite,” she corrected, with a small smile. “And try a whole house of empty.”

  “You miss your fiancé?”

  It was an obvious question and he expected an obvious answer, but Teresa didn’t reply. Instead, she shook her head.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Another head shake. “I’d like to do something I’ve never done before.” The slur in her speech was so subtle he would have missed it if she hadn’t spoken with such care.

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to get drunk.”

  He choked on his drink. She’d never been drunk before?

  The eyes that looked up at him were big and round. She looked so much younger, so vulnerable, now that the alcohol had stripped her of her airs. He liked this new Teresa. Innocent, with a hint of warmth beneath the uptight façade. It took all his willpower not to wrap her in a protective embrace.

  He resisted the urge. Because once he got her close he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let her go. Not after three weeks of wanting.

  “I’ll get us something to drink.” He pulled away, rose, and moved to the bar counter to place the order. No more cocktails, just coffee. It wasn’t often he got to be the responsible one. It was a good feeling. Perhaps he should try it more often.

  My Chemical Romance played in the background, not so blaring now. Glancing around the room, he could see only couples cuddling in the darkened corners of the room.

  When he returned with the coffees, Tessa had moved to one of those shadowy corners, to a recently vacated white-leather sofa, too upright and stylish to be comfortable, but she’d removed her shoes and sat with her legs curled beneath her.

  He handed her a cup and she frowned as she took it. “Why won’t you let me get drunk?”

  Because he needed someone else to stay sober and sensible. He wasn’t so noble that he could resist taking advantage if she chose tonight for the volcano to blow.

  “You’ll thank me in the morning, I promise.”

  She stared down into the depths of her coffee cup.

  He blew on his coffee and eyed her over the cup’s rim. “Do you want to tell me why you kept your engagement a secret?”

  “It wasn’t a secret. You just didn’t need to know.”

  But she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  He’d told her everything about himself. Or nearly everything. Her evasion hurt.

  He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her head so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Don’t lie to me, Tess. Please, don’t ever lie to me.”

  Her pupils dilated, swallowing the blue of her eyes. She moistened her lips.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”

  He released her chin. “Tell me about this man you’re going to marry.”

  She blinked, bringing herself back under firm control. Even tipsy, her strength of will was impressive. What would it take for her to truly let go and do something impulsive?

  “Stefan’s a diplomat. He works as a foreign policy consultant and he has a very bright future. My father says he’ll be the youngest ambassador Westerwald’s ever had.”

  “To be an ambassador means he’d have to live somewhere outside this country.”

  She nodded.

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Scared. Excited.” She took a sip of her coffee, then lifted her gaze to his. A gaze stripped bare. “These last few weeks… I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I don’t know what I want any more.”

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Her eyes were so wide and deep he could drown in them, and the honesty in them took his breath away. “I suppose everyone feels this way when they’re about to be married, but sometimes I feel like I want to run away. I want to go somewhere new, start over in a new life.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that out loud – and lightning didn’t strike me down!”

  He laughed. “Sometimes our dreams change. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  She eyed him, serious again. Perhaps she’d heard the bitterness in his laugh. “Have your dreams changed?”

  He didn’t talk about his feelings to anyone. Not even to Dominic. Yet he had to answer her with the same honesty he’d demanded.

  “When I started in movies it was a means to an end. For Dom, stunt work was an extension of what he already did. He liked to take dares, to do what everyone else said was impossible. For me it was always different. I was the driven one. I wanted to be someone. To prove that I was better.”

  “Better than what?” she asked, homing in on his weakest point with unfailing accuracy.

  “To be better than the world thought me. To be better than the kids who bullied me when I as a kid. Better than the father who abandoned us. I wanted to be rich and famous and for everyone to know my name.”

  “But now that you’ve got it, it’s not what you thought it would be.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  He nodded. “It’s not enough.” He managed a grin. “Someone asked me not so long ago if anyone would remember my movies five or ten years from now. I’ve been wondering that myself. Is this going to be my legacy – a handful of forgettable action movies?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I said some terrible things that night. I was wrong. You’re a very talented actor.”

  He shrugged. “But I’ve always taken the easy way out. The easy roles, the easy money. I’ve never put myself on the line.” Never let himself care. About anything or anyone.

  Maybe it was time to change that.

  He set down his coffee cup.

  Unlike Tessa, who cared so much she had to build walls around her heart to protect herself from being overwhelmed. With every advantage in life, she could have taken the easy way out and lived her whole life in her ivory tower, surrounded by wea
lth and privilege. Instead, she took the time to know people, to care about them.

  How had he ever thought her emotionless and uncaring? She cared more than anyone he’d ever met.

  A tendril of hair had fallen loose from her usual neat twist. He caught it between his fingers, savouring its silky softness. “It’s time for me to do what you do and give back to the world.”

  “But you do.” Teresa leaned close. “What you did at the children’s home – bringing attention to a charity that always needs more funding. That was you making a difference in the world.”

  He couldn’t tell her now he’d only done it to impress her.

  That was the difference between them. She was noble and honourable. He was still only just looking out for himself. He did nothing because it was the right thing to do, but because he could get something out of it. A conscience quieted, a publicist appeased, a woman seduced.

  “I’m not the person you think I am,” he said. She was so close that if he just leaned forward a little, he could kiss her. “I’m not your Prince Charming.”

  “I know you’re not. But what if I don’t want Prince Charming?”

  He tucked the tendril of hair behind her ear and stroked a finger down her cheek to the edge of her jaw. Not cold at all. Warm and tempting as hell.

  “That’s the drink talking. You need a man worthy of you, not a bastard like me. You need your knight in shining armour.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes, clinging to her lower lashes. Horrified, he brushed them away. Oh God! Tipsy he could cope with. He was more than halfway gone himself. But tears he couldn’t deal with.

  “You’re the second man to tell me that,” she said. “Fredrik told me the same thing the night he left. But I’m still alone.”

  “You’re about to be married,” he pointed out.

  She turned her head away, and this time he could see the effort it cost her to pull herself together. When she looked back up at him, it was the cool, self-contained face he was so used to seeing, with all the warmth gone. “Please take me home now.”

  Chapter 13

  The cab dropped them in the same cul-de-sac where they first met. He hadn’t had time that night to notice much, but as he stood now and looked up at the stone façade, Christian whistled.