An Accidental Love Affair

by Davida Ann Samenski

  ~ ~ ~

  Nicole limped her way through the departure gate, noting the camera flashes. It was a good thing the incident from JFK hadn’t hit the papers over here yet, so she didn’t have to worry about any unwanted publicity.

  She moved away from the gate as the press moved en masse toward the door, looking for their star. She stopped, leaning against a column to watch as the flight crew entered the terminal. No one in the press paid them any mind. They were indeed invisible.

  The assembled photographers were scratching their heads. Wasn’t Reese Collins supposed to be on this flight? Nicole smiled to herself. Her plan had worked like a charm. No one knew he was there.

  When the tall pilot in the middle of the group walked by, pulling down his sunglasses to wink at her, no one seemed to care. Reece Collins was invisible—to everyone but her.

  Chapter 2

  “Pardon me?” Nicole looked up from her notepad at the little red-haired woman standing in front of her. “Aren’t you that girl?”

  She blinked, her gaze sliding out of focus. Hiding in plain sight didn’t seem to be working for her. For a solid week it had been the same question. You’d think the population of London would grow tired of the same story being repeated over and over, but no, they seemed to thrive on it. Why couldn’t there be a royal scandal when she needed one?

  She had hoped when she left the flat this morning, the residents of London would leave her be. As she walked through town, she was pointed at, stared at, and whispered about. And just when she thought she’d found a moment of peace sitting outside the pub in Leaden Hall Market, another enquiring mind wanted to know about Reece Collins.

  She sighed, closing her notepad. “What girl?”

  The woman pulled out a chair to sit down, spilling her coffee as she placed it on the table. “The girl from the airplane.” Nicole dabbed at the spill with a napkin. “The one Reece Collins knocked down.” The woman’s smile was starting to fade.

  Nicole glanced up, taking pity on her and giving her what she wanted. “Yes, that was me.”

  The woman’s smile grew to enormous proportions with the news. “You’re famous, you are. Do you know that?” She held out her hand. “What was it like?”

  Nicole shook it and let go. “What was what like?”

  “Gettin’ knocked down by Reece Collins!”

  “Ummm, painful?” How was she supposed to answer that one? Her eye still held a bruise.

  The woman sat back in the chair, making herself comfortable. “I wish something like that would happen to me.” She sipped her coffee.

  Nicole pressed her lips together, looking away to keep from laughing.

  “Was he as gorgeous in person as he is on screen?”

  “Who?”

  The woman clucked her tongue. “Reece Collins.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never ‘eard of him.”

  After the past week, Nicole wished she hadn’t. “Is he famous?”

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Is he famous? Lud, girl, have you been livin’ under a rock? He’s just the hottest actor on both sides of the pond, I tell you.”

  “Oh.” Nicole shrugged, pretending disinterest and glancing down at her notepad in the hopes the woman would take the hint and leave. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Didn’t he make sure the airline took care of you? The articles say he did.”

  Nicole sighed. Those damn articles! Sara had squealed to the press about their first-class encounter, leaving nothing out and including how he escaped their notice when the plane landed. Now they were even more determined to track him down.

  “The airline offered me a seat in first class for my misfortunes, but I never saw . . .” She waved her hand, “What was his name again?”

  The woman was gritting her teeth. “Reece Collins.”

  “Yeah, sorry. If this Mr. Collins was on the plane, I never saw him. I spent the flight sitting by myself.”

  “But that attendant said . . .” The woman was clearly confused.

  Nicole shrugged again. “I’m sure the attendant was only trying to get her fifteen seconds of fame.”

  The woman’s face fell. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  “Hmmm-hmmm.”

  She decided to leave then, with no juicy gossip to pass on to her friends. “I’ll be going now. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she stated, glancing down at Nicole’s notebook.

  Nicole smirked. Sure you did. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “By the way, what brings you to London?”

  Nosy much? “I’m here for a bit of sightseeing.”

  The woman grinned. “Yes, you Yanks love to sightsee. Ta-ta.”

  “Bye.” She waved the woman away, shaking her head. Would it ever end?

  As soon as the story hit London, people were in a frenzy to track her and Reece down. His whereabouts were proving more difficult to discover. No one had seen hide or hair of him since he stepped off the plane.

  The press must have waited at the airport all night, checking every arrival from the States, with no sighting of the elusive star. Her whereabouts, on the other hand . . .

  Thanks to Sara’s story, the press had tracked her down at her rented flat, plaguing her with questions about her relationship with Reece. The phone was constantly ringing, the doorbell buzzing at all hours of the night, and every news program had something to say. She tried to take it all in stride, but after a day or two . . . If this was what it was like to be famous, give her an apron and a hammer.

  Nicole figured she wouldn’t get any work done with people interrupting her left and right, so she packed up her things and walked back to the flat she shared with her friend Laura, another aspiring writer.

  She wasn’t accomplishing much of anything, spending most of her time staring at the poster of Reece hanging over her desk in the office. Laura hung it on the wall in anticipation of her arrival.

  It was from his last movie, The Avenger, where he played a vigilante. It was one of his sexier roles. He spent half of the movie bare-chested and the other half completely bare. Her pulse skipped just thinking about it.

  Reece Collins was what she pictured a fallen angel would resemble; six foot three with dark-blond hair, deep blue eyes, washboard abs she wanted to do her laundry on, and a cleft, smack dab in the middle of his chin. She was a real sucker for a man with a dimple.

  She opened the front door, calling out to Laura. “I’m back.” She dropped her bag in the foyer, climbing the short flight of stairs to the sitting room. Laura was reclining on the sofa, a soap opera magazine glued to her face.

  “Was your writing time as fruitful as mine?” Nicole asked, flopping down on a chair. “Did you experience any breakthroughs?”

  “Not a one. Phone kept ringing with questions about you.” Laura glanced away from the magazine. “Your messages are on the table next to the post.”

  She barely glanced at the pile. “Do you remember what any of them were about?”

  “One was from your mum. Said to tell you ‘hi’ and she loves you. Another from Audrey. Says she needs you to email the revisions on chapters ten through twelve. She also wanted to know how your research was coming along.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. What research? “Is that all?”

  “No, there was another one from someone named Hammer.”

  Nicole slumped further down in her seat. “Hammer?”

  “Yeah. He asked for you. I told him you were away, and he left his number. He says to ask specifically for Hammer when you call.”

  “Did he sound like a reporter?”

  Laura paused in thought. “No, but he did sound familiar, like I’ve heard his voice somewhere before.”

  She sighed in resignation. “He�
�s probably another reporter wanting an exclusive.”

  Laura shrugged, returning to reading her magazine.

  Nicole sat for a few more moments. She closed her eyes, just breathing and not really thinking. “I’ll be in the bath if anyone important should call for me.” She got up, retracing her steps to the door.

  “I’ll be here taking messages like a good assistant should,” Laura called to her as she disappeared around the wall.

  Nicole stopped by the table to grab the notes, glancing over them as she trudged up the stairs and coming to the very last message in the pile. Call Mr. Hammer. Urgent!

  “What the hell?” she mumbled as she walked into her bedroom, kicking off her sneakers. She dialed the number, absentmindedly listening to it ring while she gathered her toiletries.

  “Thank you for calling the Savoy,” a voice greeted on the other end of the line.

  Nicole’s eyes widened as she hung up, staring at the phone. Who on earth would be calling her from the Savoy? She dialed the number again, waiting.

  “Thank you for calling the Savoy,” the voice said again.

  “Yes, could you connect me to Mr. Hammer’s room, please?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Of course, madam. Please hold a moment.” The line was silent, and then the voice came on again. “Mr. Hammer is not answering. Please hold while I connect you to his voicemail.” The line was then transferred and a message came on.

  “It’s me. I’m not interested in talking to anyone, or I would’ve picked up the phone. Leave me a message, and I might call you back.” The last was said in a joking tone. It was Reece Collins. He had called her.

  She started doing her ‘Snoopy Dance’ around the room before stopping in her tracks. Reece Collins had tracked her down.

  Beep! “Hey you. It’s me. Tag, you’re it.” She hung up the phone, smiling but wondering if he’d call her again because why would an international movie star be calling her?

  She grabbed her bath towel and toiletries, heading toward the bathroom. She needed to relax in the tub for an hour, or two, or four and brainstorm. Some of her best ideas came from sitting in the tub and getting wrinkly.

  She opened the taps, adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature and filling the bath with her favorite scent, Sweet Pea.

  Disrobing, she stepped in and sank down, reclining against the back of the tub with her head resting on the rim as she fantasized about the next time she’d see Reece Collins. Would it feel the same as it had on the plane? Could he really be as nice as she remembered, or was her active imagination adding too much significance to the memory?

  She relaxed completely, dozing off and on and waking only when Laura began a frenzied knocking on the door.

  “Nicole, are you there?”

  “Nope, I flew out the window,” she replied sarcastically. She thought she heard a male chuckle in response.

  “Ha, ha, very funny. A package has been delivered to you. I’m putting it in your room.”

  “What kind of package?”

  There was another masculine sounding chuckle, accompanied by Laura’s loud shushing. Who was out there with her? “It’s quite a large package.”

  She wasn’t expecting anything to be delivered. Who could be sending her something? “Does it say who it’s from?”

  Her friend’s voice had grown a bit peevish. “Just come out and see for yourself.”

  Nicole listened as her roommate’s footsteps descended the stairs. What was going on? She rinsed the soap from her body and dried off, wrapping the towel around her tightly as she skipped across the hall to her room. The light from the windows was fading as the sun went down, but there was still enough light to see by. Still, for the life of her, she couldn’t find any packages, large or small. She walked to the closet as the towel slipped a notch.

  “Unless you want to show me everything the Good Lord gave you, you’ll pull that towel back up.”

  Nicole froze, her eyes growing wide as she realized what her package really was. She wanted to turn around to be sure, but she decided to bluff her way through this predicament.

  “Oh please, like you’ve never seen a naked woman before,” she replied, surreptitiously pulling the towel tight.

  Reece laughed. “Not all bums are alike, you know.”

  She shook her head at the quandary she was in. How was she going to manage getting dressed with him watching her? “Since I haven’t seen many naked bums, I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I’ll bet yours is a sight to behold. I’m eager to see that towel drop.”

  “I just bet you are.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How did you get in here?”

  Reece rocked back and forth in the chair. “I climbed the front stoop, rang the bell, introduced myself to your friend, and came inside. Laura was very enthusiastic.”

  Understatement, if there ever was one. “I’m surprised you still have all your appendages.”

  “It was a close call, I assure you.”

  She laughed despite herself. “What are you doing here?”

  He grinned. “I wanted to see you again.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

  He waved a hand at her toweled torso. “Of course, I had no idea there would be so much of you to see.”

  She began chewing on her lip. “You could step out of the room, you know?”

  He continued to tease her. “I could, but I don’t want to.”

  Her foot started tapping against the floor. “It would be the polite thing to do.”

  He smiled, really enjoying her consternation. “Why are you so worried? As you said, I’ve seen it all before.”

  “Not mine, you haven’t,” she mumbled. “Will you close your eyes, at least?”

  Now he laughed outright. “What’s the fun in that?”

  She scrunched her eyes tight, her cheeks hot in embarrassment. “Please?”

  “Oh, all right, if you insist.” He closed his eyes.

  Nicole waved her hands and did a hula dance, watching for a reaction. He didn’t flinch, not even when she loosened the towel. Feeling satisfied, she turned back toward the closet to dress.

  ~ ~ ~

  Reece was doing everything in his power not to react to her antics. He peeked through his lashes, watching as she moved around the room, pulling an assortment of clothing from the dresser.

  She bent over, sliding her panties up her legs, the towel still tight around her. She wiggled and hopped, and it was all he could do not to jump out of the chair when he caught a glimpse of one pink, rounded cheek.

  He loosened his fingers on the arms of the chair, gritting his teeth and hoping she hadn’t noticed his reaction. His mind needed to move to things other than what was still left bare under that towel.

  “How’s your eye?”

  “My eye is fine. The swelling was bad for a few days, but the bruise is finally fading. I don’t look like a raccoon anymore.”

  “What of your ankle? Did you get it checked out?”

  “It’s tender, and I still limp.”

  He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “You poor thing.” She stuck out her tongue at his tone. He grinned to himself.

  She was now dressed in a gray T-shirt, panties, and socks. The shirt came down to just above her navel ring, the gem winking at him in the waning light. She turned back to the closet to grab a pair of jeans.

  Reece groaned silently when he spied the heart shaped tattoo just above her right butt cheek. Good Lord! She was driving him insane.

  Get a grip, idiot, he thought. It’s not like you’ve never seen a half-naked girl before.

  “So?” she asked, flopping down across the bed. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  He pretended to open his eyes. “Is
it safe to look now?”

  She snorted. “Oh please, like you didn’t sneak a peek or two. I saw you.”

  “Saw me what?”

  “I saw your reaction. Every time you caught a glimpse of something you shouldn’t have, your nostrils flared, and the chair rocked backward.”

  She had caught him watching. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Reece, believe me when I say this, I only let you see what I wanted you to see.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmm-hmmm. For example, you still have no idea if I’m a natural redhead.” Her smile was wicked.

  His nostrils flared. He blushed a shade of red as deep as her hair. That would show him.

  “Now,” she repeated, “what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  He shook his head to displace the erotic images she put there. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you this past week.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you too. It’s hard not to with the press hounding me wherever I go.”

  He scoffed. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Yes, it can. Go over to the window and look. Ten to one there are three cameras out there waiting to capture something.”

  He moved to the window, peering out. She was right. There were two guys standing on the sidewalk, staring at her house.

  “Do they know you’re here? Did anyone follow you?”

  He ignored her questions. “How’s the research coming? Have you been able to get anything done?”

  She pointed at the window. “How can I with these distractions? The moment I leave the house, the press is on me like a pack of slobbering hounds. I feel like the fox during a hunt, trying to reach the safety of my burrow.”

  He stepped back before the eagle eye of the camera lens could find him. “I may be able to help you with that.”

  “How can you help with my research? If I went anywhere with you, we’d be swarmed.”

  He continued to check the street. “Let’s just say, I know a guy who knows a guy . . .”