Where he would try to corner his brother alone, make sure he really knew what he was letting himself in for with this marriage. He mustn’t forget that. That was why he was here, after all. Not to play make-believe love affairs with Laurel.
Except after he spoke to Riley he’d have to go back to his room and sleep with Laurel. No, next to Laurel. An important distinction. Unless...
‘I’ll see you later, then. Although I might be in bed by the time you get there.’
And with that Laurel stretched up onto her tiptoes and pressed another kiss against his mouth. Almost swift enough to be a goodbye, but just long enough to hint at a possibility. A promise, maybe, for later.
Suddenly Dan knew that, no matter how badly his conversation with his brother went, he would not be getting drunk with Riley and his friends that night.
Just in case.
* * *
Up in the hotel bar, Laurel tied pink and purple balloons to ribbons and hung them from the wooden beams that rose from the bar and along the ceiling. Each balloon had a piece of paper in it—a question for the bride, the maid of honour, or one of the bridesmaids. Laurel had tried to get a look at them, but Melissa had written them herself, then folded them up tight and watched as Laurel blew up the balloons and put the notes inside. Once she was satisfied that Laurel hadn’t read them, she’d departed, leaving Laurel to finish organising the rest of the hen party.
The balloon game was only one of many Laurel had planned. The way she figured it, the busier she kept all the guests with silly party games, the less time there was for anything to go desperately wrong. There were a lot of famous people in attendance, and a lot of egos. The last thing Laurel wanted was a row at the hen night.
All she wanted was for everything to go smoothly, no one to get too drunk, and for everyone to go to bed nice and early so she could go back to her room and...
Well...
What exactly was she going to do? Wasn’t that the question of the day?
In the moments after that kiss she’d known exactly what she wanted to do that night—seduce Dan. But after twenty minutes of Melissa and balloons, and then another twenty of checklists and setting up, and worrying about everything that still needed to be done, her resolve was failing.
Maybe she was the heroine of her own life, but this week she was also a wedding planner—and that had to come first. Once she’d done her job—and done it well—she could get back to thinking about her own love life. That was the plan. Wait for the right time, the right place, then let herself think about finding the right man.
Except by then Dan would be on his way back to LA and she’d have missed her chance. He might not be her prince, but he was an excellent fake boyfriend, and it seemed silly not to take advantage of that. After all, heaven only knew how long it would take her prince to come riding up. And a girl had needs.
Which led her back to the seduction idea.
Laurel sighed, and decided just to get on with work for now. Maybe the ‘Make a Male Body Part out of modelling clay’ game would inspire her. Or put her off for life. It really could go either way.
She’d just finished setting up the tequila shots on the bar when the door opened. She turned, smiling, expecting it to be Melissa, or maybe even Dan...
‘Oh. It’s you.’ Smile fading, Laurel glared at her ex-boyfriend. ‘What do you want?’
Benjamin put up his hands in a sign of surrender. ‘I come in peace. No need for the death glare. I thought we decided we could still be friends?’
‘You decided,’ Laurel replied.
She hadn’t had a say in the matter. Benjamin had said, ‘We’ll still be friends, of course,’ and that had been the end of the discussion.
‘I thought about it some more, and decided that my friends wouldn’t treat me the way you did.’
Funny how once you decided you were the heroine in your own story it became a lot easier to speak the truth to people who didn’t respect that. Just yesterday, when she’d seen him again for the first time, she’d dived for cover behind a pretend relationship. Today, after talking with Dan, she’d realised a few things. And one of those was that she had no place in her life for people like Benjamin.
‘Oh, Laurel.’ Benjamin shook his head sadly. ‘You always were so naive. You really are going to need to toughen up if you want to survive in this world, you know.’
Was that really what she needed to do? Develop a tough outer shell that would help her ignore all the awful things that people did? It might at least help her to deal with Melissa. But on the other hand...
‘Is that why you love Coral? Because she’s tough?’
‘I love Coral because she’s driven. Ambitious.’
I’m ambitious. Just not the way you wanted.
Gratitude flooded her as she realised how lucky she was to have escaped her romance with Benjamin when she had. She might not have enjoyed the circumstances at the time, but with some distance between them she now knew it was the best thing that could have happened to her. Imagine if she’d gone on believing that he truly was her prince... She might not even have recognised the real thing when it did come along. And that would have been a very sorry state of affairs.
‘She’s a journalist—did you know?’ Benjamin went on, looking stupidly proud of his new fiancée.
‘Really? I thought she was a gossip columnist.’
It was petty, perhaps, but since Laurel had been responsible for getting every guest to sign a non-disclosure agreement about the wedding, banning them from speaking to the media, publishing photos online, or doing anything else that would jeopardise the exclusive agreement Melissa and Riley had signed with Star! magazine, she felt it was relevant.
She’d actually argued against her being invited to the wedding at all—something that Melissa had decided was sour grapes.
‘Really, Laurel, you have to grow up. We’re all adults and professionals here. We know how the industry works—well, everyone except you, anyway. Just because she won Benjamin, you can’t be petty about it.’
Petty. If Benjamin and Coral had betrayed Melissa the way they had Laurel, she was sure they’d have been blacklisted from every celebrity event involving Melissa for all time. But Laurel was being petty for being concerned that a gossip columnist might take a chance and ruin the exclusive with Star! magazine, so that Melissa and Riley would have to forfeit the obscenely large fee they were being paid.
Benjamin scowled. ‘She’s very talented.’
‘I’m sure she is.’ Suspicion prickled at the back of her neck. This wasn’t about being friends—that was rapidly becoming obvious. So what was it about?
‘What exactly do you want from me, Benjamin? Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, I have got a wedding to organise here.’
‘Of course. For your sister—sorry, half-sister.’
Benjamin’s expression formed into a perfect facsimile of concern, but somehow Laurel was sure it was fake.
‘How are things between the two of you? I know your relationship has always been difficult, and I can’t imagine that the stresses of organising her wedding have helped.’
Laurel’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you want, Benjamin?’
‘I’m sure you weren’t always this blunt.’ He sighed, and dropped the fake concern. ‘The magazine Coral works for—they’ve ordered her to get details of the wedding, and the dress, so that they can get them up on the website before the Star! exclusive goes to print.’
‘She can’t.’ Laurel shook her head. ‘She’s signed a non-disclosure agreement. If she gives them anything she’ll be sued.’
‘I know. But someone else could.’
‘Everyone attending the wedding signed the agreement. It was to be sent back with the RSVPs.’ Which made it one of the more absurd aspects of her job, Laurel conceded, but she’d done it.
<
br /> ‘What about you?’ Benjamin asked.
Laurel froze. She hadn’t RSVP’d because she hadn’t needed an invitation. She’d signed a contract for the job, sure, but that had been her newly developed standard contract, and Melissa had barely looked at it.
She hadn’t signed a non-disclosure agreement. She could tell anyone she liked about the details of this wedding and there was nothing Melissa could do about it.
‘You didn’t sign one, did you?’ A Cheshire cat-like grin spread across Benjamin’s face. ‘I told Coral you wouldn’t have. Melissa is too sure of you—too certain that you’re under her thumb—to even think that she needed to get you to sign. This is perfect!’
‘No. No, it’s not.’ Laurel gripped the back of the chair in front of her, knuckles whitening. ‘I’m a professional. I still have an obligation to my client.’
‘Really?’ Benjamin raised his eyebrows. ‘After the way she’s always treated you? Just imagine her face when her Star! deal goes down the pan. Wouldn’t that be glorious? And...if revenge isn’t enough for you... Coral’s employers are willing to pay good money for the information. Especially if you can get a snap of the wedding dress before the big day. Serious money, Laurel. The sort of money any new business needs.’
‘My business is fine.’
‘Sure—for now. But be honest. How much is Melissa paying you? Is it a fair rate? Or did she insist on a family discount?’
Her face was too hot, her mind reeling as she remembered Dan asking almost the same question, and the pitying look in his eye when he realised she wasn’t being paid at all.
‘The exposure of such a big wedding is great for my business.’
Benjamin barked out a laugh. ‘Good grief. Is she paying you at all? Beyond expenses, I mean? This wedding must have been all of your billable hours for months now. Whatever she’s paying you, I can tell it isn’t enough.’
He leant forward, into her personal space, and Laurel recoiled.
‘She owes you, Laurel. And we’d like to help make her pay up—one way or another. Help us out and Melissa gets everything she deserves. So do you. It’s win-win.’
‘She’s my sister,’ Laurel whispered.
Benjamin shook his head. ‘She really isn’t.’ Straightening up, he turned and headed for the door. ‘Just think about it, Laurel. But remember—you haven’t got long to decide. We need whatever you can get before she walks down the aisle on Saturday.’
And then he was gone, leaving Laurel with a lot of very uncomfortable thoughts.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHERE ON EARTH was the best man? Dan scanned the room, trying to find Noah, but he was nowhere to be seen. Not that Dan could blame him; if he’d been able to find an excuse to get out of the stupid stag night he’d have left hours ago. Noah was probably cosied up in bed with the maid of honour—and more power to him.
If Laurel hadn’t been stuck throwing the hen do Dan might well have dragged her off to bed himself.
It was all he’d been able to think about ever since that kiss. That knockout, blindsiding kiss.
Or at least it had been until the stag party had got out of hand.
Riley had insisted on throwing the stag party himself, with no help from Laurel. Dan assumed that Noah and his other mates had had a hand in it, though, because everyone knew Riley couldn’t organise his way out of a paper bag.
The groom, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that his stag party would be an homage to frat movies past—complete with beer keg, red cups and some dubious-looking cigarettes over on the other side of the room that Dan wasn’t investigating too closely.
Of course frat parties only ever ended one way—with the good old frat boys drunk out of their minds and often getting into a brawl.
Riley had always liked his roles to look authentic, and by the time Dan had arrived—not late, but not exactly early either—it had been clear from his brother’s slurred greeting that the conversation he’d hoped to have about Melissa, and love, and marriage, was firmly off the cards. So he’d settled down with a bottle of proper beer from the bar, and winced as he watched Riley tackling a yard of beer.
And things had only got worse from there.
Dan yanked his brother out of the way of his mate’s flying fists and tossed him back into the chair behind him. Then he turned to the fighter, sighing when he saw that the drunken idiot intended to try and take him on next.
‘No,’ Dan said, with finality in his voice. ‘We are not doing this.’
‘Scared to fight me?’
The man could barely look in one direction, he was so out of it, but Dan couldn’t fault his courage.
‘Yeah, sure. That’s exactly it.’
In one swift movement he’d caught the guy’s fists, wrapping his hands behind his back and holding them there. Then he marched him across to the other side of the room, deposited him in the corner behind the pool table Riley had had brought in, and placed one foot lightly on his chest to hold him in place. Then he turned to address the room.
‘Okay—here’s what is going to happen next. I’m going to go take my brother back to his room and put him to bed. I’m also going to send some hotel staff up here to finish this party. I suggest that all of you go drink about a gallon of water, take a couple of aspirin, and get some sleep—so you can function well enough for whatever our beautiful bride has planned for you tomorrow.’
‘Hey, why do you get to call time? We’re having fun! It’s a stag party, man.’
Dan rolled his eyes at the man who’d spoken. ‘Yes, it is. But the stag has practically passed out already, there’s no stripper coming, and honestly...? We’re all a little old to be playing at frat boys.’
And he’d never felt quite as old as he did tonight. He was almost a decade older than a lot of these guys, but not all of them. And even they should be old enough to know better.
‘Feel free to ignore my advice, boys. But I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes tomorrow.’
With that, and feeling about a hundred years old, he went and retrieved Riley from where he was still slumped in his chair. Wrapping his brother’s arm around his shoulders and hoisting him up onto his feet with an arm around his waist, he half led, half carried him out towards the elevators.
Fate, or just blind luck, meant he had to walk past the bar where the hen party was happening to get there. And just as they approached he saw Laurel step out into the corridor and stand there, her head tipped back to rest against the wall, her palms flat against it at her side, eyes closed.
‘Long night?’ he called out, and she turned her head, smiling as she opened her eyes to look at him.
‘No longer than yours, by the look of things.’
Riley gave an incoherent mumble, and Dan rolled his eyes.
‘I can’t believe you let him organise his own frat-movie-themed stag do.’
Laurel shrugged. ‘Melissa said as long as there weren’t any strippers she didn’t care what they got up to. And, quite frankly, I’m not being paid enough to worry about idiot boys.’
‘Join the club.’ He hefted Riley up again, to keep him from sliding out of his grasp and onto the carpet.
‘Want a hand?’ Laurel offered.
‘I thought you weren’t being paid enough?’
‘This one’s a freebie.’ She met his eyes. ‘Or you can pay me back later. Personally.’
Heat flared between them again, just as it had when they’d kissed that afternoon, and Dan mentally cursed his brother for being a lightweight.
‘Help me get him to his room?’ he asked, flashing her a grin. ‘I promise I’ll make it worth your while later.’
Laurel slipped under Riley’s other arm, helping bear his weight as they lugged him towards the elevators. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘Please do.’
* * *
It took longer than Dan would have liked to get Riley settled. He was all for tossing him onto the bed and leaving him there, but Laurel insisted on removing his shoes and belt at least, and trying to get him to swallow some water before they lay him down in the recovery position.
Laurel left painkillers and a large glass of water on his bedside table, dimmed the lights, and placed a call down to Reception for someone to sneak in and check on him throughout the night.
‘Well, it’s not like Melissa’s going to do it,’ she pointed out. ‘I doubt he’ll be with it enough to even notice, but I won’t sleep if I’m worrying about him.’
If Dan had his way she might not be sleeping anyway, but he didn’t mention that.
Laurel shut the door behind them, and suddenly it was just them again, heading back to their room like an old married couple at the end of the night.
‘Are you...?’ Laurel started, then trailed off. ‘Did you enjoy the stag party? I mean, apart from the last part.’
‘Not really.’ Dan gave her a one-shoulder shrug. ‘Not my kind of thing any more.’
‘Frat parties? No, I guess not. So, what is?’
His kind of thing? You. Naked. With me. Yeah, that probably wasn’t what she meant.
Laurel punched the button to call the elevator, and Dan felt his body tensing, getting warmer the closer they got to being alone with a bed. How had he ever imagined he’d be able to survive another celibate night after that kiss? He really hoped he didn’t have to...
‘My kind of thing?’ he echoed as the elevator arrived and they both stepped in. The enclosed space felt airless, and Dan struggled to concentrate on the conversation. ‘Uh...I don’t know. Not Hollywood parties either, I guess. I just like...quiet nights. A few good friends, good food, quality drinks. Conversation.’
The sort of night he found almost impossible to have in Hollywood, even with his oldest friends. There was always someone new tagging along. Dan wasn’t against new people in principle, but when they were only there to get a foot in the door of the industry...it got old pretty fast.
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