by Alice Raine
I was usually so cool, calm, and collected in every aspect of my life. I’d even been nicknamed Ice back in my Territorial Army days because of my chilled demeanour. Nothing ruffled or provoked me. Nothing. I had certainly never been wound up enough to punch a tree before, that was for sure. But Caitlin affected me almost beyond my comprehension.
I shook my head and stared upwards through the leafy canopy to the bright blue sky. God, I wanted her so badly. The fact that I’d now had a brief taste of her and felt the way she had responded to me – because I was positive that she had responded and enjoyed that kiss for a few moments – my desire for her was even stronger. She’d clutched at my shirt and pulled me closer, so I knew she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, but she was still holding back.
Blowing out a breath, I ran a hand through my sweaty hair. Interestingly, she’d also lied to me, which gave me further hope that she might be just as affected by me as I was by her. Why else would she tell me she hadn’t accepted the Dynamic job when I knew full well from Jason that she’d already said yes?
Caitlin clearly had issues with intimacy, or men, or both, which definitely made me suspect that something had occurred in her past to make her wary. But I would prove that I was trustworthy, and I would pursue her, even if it was just in the name of building a friendship between us. Friends would be better than nothing, and seeing as she utterly fascinated me, I wanted to get to know her more. I needed to. I also wanted to erase the look of timid concern that always seemed to linger in her eyes. The thought that she might genuinely fear me was one I simply couldn’t live with. I wanted her to look at me with trust, and if that meant being just friends, then that’s what I’d do.
Pulling out my phone from the pocket of my running shorts, I skimmed through the contacts until I found the one I needed. This guy owed me a favour, and I just hoped that he was willing to bend the rules a bit to repay me.
‘Ben? Hi, it’s Jack. Listen, I need a favour. Can you get me someone’s mobile number if I have their full name?’
TWELVE
Sean
‘SEAN?’
Wincing as the deep voice bellowed my name, I inadvertently jumped and slopped the coffee I’d been pouring. Grumbling irritably, I looked down at my almost empty mug and the pool of coffee now surrounding it on the counter. For fuck’s sake. I was tired after the long day yesterday, had already been on set for six hours today, and now I finally had ten minutes to grab a coffee, my director was yelling my name.
Shaking my head, I mopped up the spillage and reluctantly replaced the coffee pot into the machine. I was in the green room – the room beside the set where the actors and crew could go between shoots to relax and grab some refreshments – but apparently I wasn’t going to be allowed my break today.
Mike, one of the sound crew, was with me and cast me a wide-eyed look as Finlay continued screeching for me from somewhere on set. ‘Sean? Where the fuck are you?’
Attempting to hide the way he flinched at Finlay’s yelling, Mike opened up his sandwich packet and shook his head supportively. ‘That does not sound good, dude,’ he murmured, before returning to his lunch and book, as if hoping to hide in the pages and avoid the wrath of our director.
No, it didn’t sound good, but I couldn’t for the life of me think why Finlay was going ballistic. The morning’s shoots had run smoothly, and he’d actually seemed in a relatively good mood today – relative to his usual tense, impatient mood, that was. Sighing heavily, I swigged down the coffee that had made it into my mug and headed for the door.
Being famous, and the star of the show, didn’t earn me any graces with my director. If Finlay had a bone to pick with me he didn’t make any allowances for my fame, and was more than happy to bollock me in front of all and sundry if the mood took him.
Making my way along the short corridor that joined the green room with the set area, I practically ran into Finlay as he strode around the corner and shot a fierce glare in my direction.
‘What did I tell you about crap like this?’ he roared, thrusting a newspaper at me so hard that it rammed into my chest and knocked me backwards a step.
Recovering my balance, I took the paper and looked to see what he was getting so irate over. On page six were two photographs – admittedly blurry – of Allie and me, followed by a clearer one of me and Savannah, and then the headline, ‘Who is Sean Phillip’s new mystery woman?’
Regardless of how fuming Finlay was, I couldn’t help but smile as I looked again at the picture of Allie and me leaning on a rail, looking decidedly affectionate. It was taken from a distance, far enough away that her face wasn’t recognisable, but her blonde hair certainly stood out, making it obvious she wasn’t Savannah.
‘Wipe that fucking smug grin off your face, Sean, you’re on seriously thin ice.’
My smile did fade, not because Finlay had demanded it, but because I suddenly realised when one of those pictures must have been shot … or more precisely, where. It was obviously from yesterday when we were standing on my balcony. The same balcony that supposedly gave complete seclusion away from prying eyes.
Thank fuck these particular prying eyes hadn’t been around an hour or two earlier and seen the seriously hot balcony sex that we had partaken in too. Jeez. Allie would have gone mental if pictures like that had appeared in the papers, and I would probably have been incarcerated for murdering anyone and everyone who dared to look at them.
I would certainly be having words with the apartment supervisor, that was for sure. If I was paying through the nose for complete privacy then I damn well wanted to be getting that complete privacy.
Looking back to Finlay, I saw his anger hadn’t dispersed at all. ‘We had a deal, Sean. You were supposed to keep her secret until after the season premiere.’ His use of ‘her’ really niggled me and I found myself crossing my arms and matching his frown with one of my own.
‘Her name is Allie, and we were being careful. I don’t know how someone got those pictures, the beach is supposed to be private.’
‘It obviously isn’t fucking private, is it? What about this one, are you going to try using the same excuse?’ The other photograph was from a few days ago, when I’d taken Allie to meet Savannah. It was taken through the window glass of my Jeep, so it was blurry and unfocused. I could make out Allie’s cap and blonde hair, but because she had practically slithered down into the footwell, her face wasn’t clear. Neither picture gave away her identity, which was a relief, but that clearly wasn’t what Finlay was getting himself so wound up about.
As he continued to yell, I dropped my gaze and skimmed through the article. It summarised my ‘engagement’ with Savannah, and went on to speculate that perhaps there was a rift growing between us because I’d been spotted with the mystery blonde twice in a week. I could see why Finlay was pissed off, but I began to formulate a plan as I finished reading the last line, which said, ‘So, is there already trouble in paradise for Sean and Savannah’s new engagement? We’ll keep you posted on any new developments.’
Braving my director’s fearsome glare, I calmly folded the paper and held it out to him, where he snatched it from my hand and tossed it onto a nearby table before crossing his arms.
‘Look, Finlay, this could actually be a really good thing.’
Cutting me off, he waved his hands in the air as his eyes boggled further. ‘How exactly do you figure that, Sean? Enlighten me.’
Shrugging, I indicated the paper. ‘Well, it’s getting us, and the show, increased publicity.’ I was careful to emphasise my mention of the show, because apparently that was all that Finlay was focusing on at the moment. ‘Besides, we had already agreed to tell the public that Savannah and I had broken up eventually, so this will merely support that.’
Seeing his shoulders relax slightly as he processed my words, I decided to capitalise on his silence. ‘We should have thought of this earlier, really, because I bet the journos will be going crazy for the story now. Which will bring the show into the spo
tlight even more than usual.’
Lifting a hand to rub thoughtfully at his chin, Finlay narrowed his eyes and nodded. ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way … perhaps you’re right.’ Nodding several times, Finlay then hit me with a firm look. ‘Make sure you and Savannah get snapped together this week at some point, I want you both looking tense and irritable as if you’re having a lovers’ tiff. Play it up for the cameras, Sean, and I’ll let your carelessness go this time.’
Look tense? After the stunt Savannah had pulled by telling Allie I had slept with her, looking irritable shouldn’t be too difficult. Not that I mentioned that, of course. ‘OK, no problem. I’ll no doubt be made out in the papers as the cheating bad boy again, but that’s fine. As long as I eventually get to have Allie by my side, I don’t care.’
Finlay gave my overly romantic comment a marginally derisive look and rolled his eyes before stalking off. He obviously wasn’t a fan of romance, which probably explained his four messy divorces in the last ten years.
Just as I turned back in the direction of the green room intent of finally snagging something to eat and drink, Finlay loudly clapped his hands behind me. ‘Right, you lot, break’s over. Everyone back on set.’
With a long, drawn-out sigh, I spun on my heel and followed his command like a dog going to heel. It looked like it was going to be one of those days.
THIRTEEN
Cait
Cutting my run short, I had taken the quickest route back to the main gates, skipped the post-run social, and headed straight back to the hotel. By the time I arrived back I had slipped so deeply into shock that I could barely see straight and ended up walking into reception, instead of heading to the bungalow. Apparently, being kissed by a movie star out of the blue could do that to you.
I came to a standstill when I finally registered the plush carpet beneath my feet and the soft hum of conversation. Huh. Blinking several times, I looked around and realised just how fancy it was here: soft rugs, luxurious sofas, elaborate flower displays and … me. There was a large mirrored wall directly opposite, allowing me to get a full look at the state of myself. Ugh – damp hair, red neck, sweaty running gear, and a pale white face, presumably from my shock.
Oh, and not to forget my muddy trainers. Not exactly five-star attire to match a place as swanky as this. Oops.
I needed some quiet time to recover my shattered composure, but my legs were so shaky that they weren’t up to the walk through the tropical hotel grounds just yet. Glancing around, I saw a quiet area to the left of the doors and practically crawled there in relief. Here, there were seemingly hundreds of exotic pot plants, but thankfully, no other guests.
Gosh, I was practically in full meltdown mode. And I mean properly on the verge of a complete brain and body malfunction. To be honest, it was a miracle I was still managing to stand upright.
Once I was immersed in the calmness of my pot planted sanctuary, my brain began to compute all that had occurred, and came up with a lovely, succinct five-word summary – Jack Felton had kissed me.
Ho-ly shit.
I still could not believe that had just happened. Pulling in a full, deep breath for the first time since the run-in with Jack (if being kissed half senseless could be called a run-in …) I wheezed out and clung to the wall behind me as if it were the only thing holding me up. Which at this exact moment, it was.
Jack Felton had kissed me. Really kissed me – with tongues, rushed breaths, pounding heartbeats, wandering hands and … everything. A huge, long sigh fluttered from my lips as they tingled from the memory. I closed my eyes as my tongue hesitantly licked my lips for any remaining traces of Jack, and found my index finger frantically plucking the elastic band on my wrist until it began to sting again.
Raising my arm to examine the damaged, reddened flesh, I bit my lip guiltily. My trauma wasn’t helped by the fact that I could still taste him on my mouth. That fresh, minty, almost sweet taste that had engulfed me was back and enflaming my memories until I felt well and truly light-headed. I tried to dredge up a vague remnant of anger at his actions, but I couldn’t even manage to get a shred of annoyance. As much as I wanted to deny it, I had enjoyed his kiss.
Really enjoyed it.
What a mess. I seriously needed to get my head on straight before I started work and had to see him again.
I had just about summed up the energy to go and have a shower when I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my running shorts. Seeing Allie’s name flash up on the screen, I took a deep breath and considered one important question – should I tell her about my kiss with Jack? My amazing, soul shaking, toe-curlingly good kiss with Jack?
‘Hi … Allie.’ I was breathless again. Crap, just thinking about his kisses winded me.
‘Hi, Cait. Wait, you sound all breathless and weird.’
‘Yeah? I’ve … uh … I’ve been running.’
‘You run all the time and you’ve never sounded this strange afterwards. Are you OK?’ Great, so apparently one kiss from Jack had caused me to look awful and sound odd. Awesome. No wonder I’d avoided having a boyfriend. If only that were the only reason for my single status, I thought sourly, briefly recalling Greg again before resolutely shoving his evil face from my mind.
‘Um. Kinda. Maybe. Not entirely,’ I mumbled, rolling my eyes at how flipping ridiculous I sounded. I needed to get a grip. Actually, I needed to unload these feelings onto Allie and get her opinion, but I’d rather do it in person.
‘Right. That makes no sense at all, Cait,’ Allie replied in a perplexed tone that was so apparent I could practically see the frown on her face in my mind’s eye. ‘I was just calling to say I’m running a little late for our shopping trip.’ My heart fell. I desperately needed to speak to Allie, like right now. If she cancelled on me my brain would probably explode from the strain. ‘I shouldn’t be too much longer, back in about twenty minutes, hopefully.’
Feeling my shoulders slump in relief, I actually found myself nodding, even though she wouldn’t be able to see it. ‘Twenty minutes is perfect.’ The idea of unburdening all of this Jack craziness onto Allie was infinitely reassuring, and after disconnecting the call I rushed on wobbly legs through the grounds to shower and change.
Twenty minutes didn’t buy me enough time to get my hair dried after my shower, but at least it was washed clean of sweat by the time I saw Allie jogging up the porch steps. Bursting through the bungalow door, she chucked her bag on the sofa and spun around on the spot. ‘Cait! I’m so excited about shopping! Where shall we start …’ but her words faded off as soon as she stopped her giddy spinning and clocked me by the bar.
Prowling forwards until she was just in front of me, she propped her hands on her hips and examined me with a narrow-eyed expression that made me feel incredibly self-conscious.
‘You’re really pale. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
Looking at Allie’s expression I knew I must look bad, so I bought myself a last few seconds’ reprieve by handing her one of the cups of tea I’d just finished making and wandered to the sofa. Settling beside me, Allie tucked her legs under her so she was basically crossed-legged but facing me, with a curious expression lingering on her face.
Blowing steam from her mug, she took a sip and tilted her head to the side. ‘So, missus. You said you’d been running when I spoke to you earlier, but you sounded really weird. What’s happened?’
Knowing my friend’s innate ability to detect a lie a mile off, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with anything but the truth, so I steeled myself for a confession. Avoiding her gaze for a second or two longer, I swilled my tea around my mug before finally lifting my head and meeting her inquisitive eyes. Pulling in a deep breath, I slowly released it through my lips with a low whistling noise and then gave her the gossip. ‘Jack Felton. I bumped into him again.’
At this news, Allie looked partly surprised, a little bit excited, and a whole lot concerned. ‘Ah. Him again. Now it makes sense. Are you OK?’
‘Ye
s,’ I replied with a firm nod, which was true, because physically I was fine. It was emotionally I was totally screwed up.
Examining me for a second or two, Allie looked distinctly unconvinced. ‘Then why don’t you sound OK? Because I’ve known you for a long time, and believe me, you do not sound OK.’
Flopping back on the sofa, I sucked in a long breath and tried to decide how to word the full version of the story. Seeing how Allie knew the history of why I hadn’t dated for so long this was going to be a fairly big bombshell for her.
It was a pretty flipping big bombshell for me.
Staring at the ceiling, I almost laughed hysterically from the craziness of it all. ‘Because … because he …’ kissed me and I loved it. Damn it. I grimaced, finding myself unable to say it out loud. ‘… Because he’s handsome and confident, and it affects me and he knows it, and it’s really annoying,’ I said, chickening out at the very last minute.
‘A little confidence can be attractive though, no?’ Allie replied democratically, a statement I chose to ignore, because annoyingly it was true – his calm confidence was attractive. It made me feel safe, even though I barely knew the man. ‘I don’t really get the egotistical vibe from Jack, confident, yes, but not overtly so. But then I barely know him, so I guess you’d know better than me.’
‘He kissed me,’ I suddenly blurted, losing all control of my tongue. ‘And I kissed him back.’ Apparently my mouth was now running wild. I was so stunned at my own words that I slopped tea over my jeans and cursed under my breath as I frantically tried to rub it off. Once I’d prevented my knee from being scalded, I looked up to find Allie watching me with her jaw hanging open wide enough to catch an entire swarm of flies.
‘Bloody hell, Cait. This is huge.’ That was not the response I had needed, and my heart immediately attempted to leap up my throat and make a break for freedom. Seeing my distress at her excitement, Allie winced and visibly wound her composure in, calming her restless shifting, and neutralising the astounded expression on her face to something that now made her look almost constipated.