“What’s the rush?” she asked, her tone halfway between light-hearted and dubious. If her mind was anything like his, she was probably replaying that kiss.
But he couldn’t afford to think about that anymore.
A large part of him wished he could forget about her treatment of Daisy—she certainly didn’t act like the hard-hearted bitch he’d initially imagined. He hadn’t slept with a woman in quite some time. His lips still tasted of Holly and it would be so easy to go with attraction that arced between them and indulge in a red-hot fling. Problem was, once the itch had been scratched he’d feel even worse about himself.
“I realized I can’t send you home without showing you some of the trashy Hollywood hot spots,” he said eventually.
She chuckled. “Oh yes you can. I’ve already told you I couldn’t care less about movies stars and film history.”
Yes, she’d made her derision of Daisy’s world more than clear. He swallowed his irritation at her words. “Surely there’s some movie star you had a thing for in your teens? Whose face was plastered on your bedroom walls?”
“No one.” But the twist of her lips gave away her lie.
“Tell me.”
“Only if you tell me which woman was on yours?”
“I’ve told you enough about me already.” He paused for a second realizing the truth in this statement. At the museum he’d told her more about his past than he’d told any woman in such a short time. What was it about her making him spill his guts? Ignoring this question, he told her something that didn’t matter. “I had a thing for Madonna.”
She screwed up her nose. Then laughed. He tried not to be affected by the magic sound. “Okay, I liked Matt Damon.”
“You and ten million other women.”
She glared at him, reprovingly. “Hey, I didn’t tell you so you could mock me.”
She was flirting. Instinct had him flirting back but luckily common sense landed at the last minute.
His gut ached at the knowledge that he couldn’t take the bait. Couldn’t flirt right back and take their interactions to its logical conclusion. “Would you like your photo taken next to him?”
“I honestly hadn’t given it any thought.”
He believed her. She’d made it more than clear what she thought of all the glitz and honoring of movie stars. What’d he’d like to know was if it were all down to her tumultuous relationship with Daisy or if she’d always been uninterested.
Two minutes later, her face lit up with a smile when he led her to Matt Damon’s star. “Okay, then, get out your camera.”
She knelt down on one knee and looked up to him from the top of the golden star. She glared. “What are you waiting for?”
He folded his arms across his chest and looked down, his heart softening at her antics even when he didn’t want it to. “Are you telling me that you, who professes to be unaffected by film stars and the like, are practically begging me to photograph you here? Now?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just take the damn picture.”
He couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from his lips as he dug his travel camera out of his pocket. Despite knowing spending time with Holly wasn’t a good idea, his body rejoiced at being near. He didn’t need to be asked twice to do what he’d been itching to do since he met her. Well, one of the things anyway.
As she smiled up at him, he looked through the view-screen, taking a moment to admire. Looking at her heart-shaped face shining with honest and natural beauty was a lot easier on the screen than looking openly at her.
Whenever he looked at her properly, he felt his emotional flood gates opening. He had the intense urge to spill his guts about things he usually didn’t talk about. Things he didn’t want to talk about.
He snapped the photo and she stood. They continued down the sidewalk. As they approached Daisy’s star, his heart picked up pace and he began to wonder if bringing her here was a very, very bad idea. He probably should have confronted her in private, but then again, he wanted to see the look on her face when she looked at her sister’s accolade. He’d know then from the look in her eyes whether she harbored any regret over cutting Daisy out of her life.
Holly filled the time with small talk, offering him a private commentary on the worthiness of or lack thereof of every celebrity they passed. “There’re so many of them,” she said after a while. “I can see why it’s such a Hollywood Mecca.”
And then she stopped.
Nate thought she’d noticed Daisy’s star—new and shinier than most. He stilled beside her, the speed of his heart rate dropping to zero as he held his breath and waited for a reaction? After a moment, he realized she wasn’t staring vacantly at Daisy’s name, but the famous male actor beside it.
Confused and a little aggrieved, he leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”
She straightened and nodded her head too quickly. “Fine. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Go? Past Daisy’s star and avoid the reason he’d specifically brought her here? He didn’t think so.
“What’s he to you?” Nate persisted, nodding toward the star that had her spooked.
“No one, honestly.” Her flirty tone of moments ago had vanished. And now in addition to her staccato sentence, she sounded icy.
“Me thinks the lady protests too much.”
She didn’t crack a fraction of a smile. “It’s nothing really. He was my husband’s favorite actor, that’s all. Ian had all his movies and this bizarre habit of watching the trilogy every Christmas Eve.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if suddenly cold.
“Ian?” He felt as if he’d been slapped in the face with a gossip tabloid. She’d been married? How did he not know this? “Daisy’s Ian?”
Her head snapped up and she met his questioning gaze with narrowed eyes. For a second he feared for his safety and then she laughed as if she couldn’t believe his question. “Is that what she told you?”
“She said you had a falling out over a man. She never told me…”
“She never told you she slept with my husband.” She paused to catch her breath. “It was the stuff of nightmares, Nate—they were caught in a cleaning cupboard together at our wedding reception.”
“Fuck.” Nate turned Holly’s information over in his head. If this were true, no wonder the woman was tense and her eyes narrowed whenever Daisy’s name came up.
“That’s one word for it,” Holly said, her voice scarily devoid of emotion. “Basically he was the one thing I had that she didn’t, so she took it away.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Words he never said to a woman but this was different. Despite the carnal ideas of his hormones, he wasn’t dating Holly.
Her lips pursed tightly together, she shook her head. “Not really. You already think Daisy was Perfection Incarnate and me her wicked sister. You’ve made that pretty clear.”
He had to admit, he’d never entertained the notion that Daisy was the one most at fault in the sisters’ fall out. She’d always been so fun, so carefree and he’d never heard nor seen her say or do a thing to hurt another soul. But she was different from most people. She was a free spirit, who found the boundaries of normal society values constricting. Only on the odd occasion had Daisy spoken seriously—offering a tiny insight into dissatisfaction in her past, into her feelings about a man called Ian—but the emotional intimacy had always freaked them out and one of them had quickly steered the conversation to lighter things.
However if he stepped back and analyzed it, as much as he adored Daisy, this didn’t seem that outrageous a story. Despite her outer confidence, inside she’d been battling with a number of demons that had skewed her actions on more than one occasion.
“I’m sorry, Holly,” he said and whole-heartedly meant it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” she replied flippantly. “You didn’t shag the love of my life.”
“No, but I made assumptions I shouldn’t have. I don’t like judg
ing people and for that I’m sorry.”
The tiniest of smiles crossed her lips. “Don’t worry. I judged you too. I’d have bet money on the fact I’d never hear you apologize to me.”
“Hell, I’d have bet money on that. I don’t generally apologize to anyone.”
“I figured that.”
As her lips relaxed into a fuller smile, he glanced down at Daisy’s star beside the husband’s idol and suddenly thought better of his decision to show her. It wasn’t his place to force her to face her demons. If she wanted to see Daisy’s star, it should be her decision.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand easily. “Let’s go to the souvenir stands and see what knick-knacks we can send home with you for your parents and Stella.”
“So you’ve listened to what I’ve been saying?”
He nodded, pulling her a little but trying not to make it obvious he wanted to lead her away. “Sure, you’ll be in huge trouble if you don’t bring back presents for Stella and you want to take something for your parents as well.”
He saw her shoulders relax at this new conversation, felt her hand settle into his grip. He felt confident he’d veered her away, but at the last moment, she glanced down beneath her feet and almost tripped.
“Oh Lord.” She yanked her hand from his and placed it against her chest. “Daisy’s star. Right next to Ian’s hero. How fitting.”
It was the first time he’d heard her use sarcasm.
“Sorry.” He couldn’t believe he’d said it again when he couldn’t recall ever saying sorry to another woman he wasn’t related to. “It was a mistake bringing you here but I thought you should see it.”
She sniffed. Then, completely taking him by surprise, she dropped to her knees beside Daisy’s star and glared up at him. “I suppose you should take a photo of me with her as well.”
“No, you don’t have to,” he said, biting down on the urge to defend Daisy. Although he now knew she’d been in the wrong, it was still hard to hear his best friend mentioned with such anger.
“Do it,” she demanded. “For my parents.”
“What about the wig?” he asked, gesturing to her bright red hair.
She glanced from side to side and then tugged it off. Her gorgeous copper locks fell messily over her shoulders. Only when she told him to “hurry up,” did he realized he’d been staring. Again. He snapped off a few shots and, when he’d finished, she couldn’t stand up quickly enough. Thrusting her hand bag at him, she stood right on top of Daisy’s star, wrestling with the wig to try and get it back on her head. She pulled and yanked and even cursed—which he hadn’t heard her do before and it didn’t seem to flow easily from her lips.
He put his camera back into his pocket, hung her bag on his shoulder and stepped toward her, laying his hands on top of hers in order to help her secure the wig.
“You’re shaking.”
Forgetting the wig, he looked into her eyes and noticed they were swimming with water. No tears had fallen but they had to be pretty close.
Dammit, he was hopeless with tears.
And, her emotions confused him. Was it anger or sadness? For her husband or Daisy?
Without another thought, he ushered her away from the stars and the throng of tourists, back to his parked car.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”
And he didn’t really know what to say. He’d done more talking today than he had in a long time but he still had a lot to learn about listening. The strange thing was he wanted to learn—he wanted to be the person she opened up to.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, much more harshly than he intended. “Let’s go home and eat. Ruby will have cooked something. If you feel up to going out again later, I can show you the town.”
She sniffed again, then took her bag from him and dug a tissue out. She wiped her nose and when she looked at him, it appeared the risk of tears had passed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a really nice guy?”
He raised a brow in reply. “No, but I’ve been accused of being exactly the opposite.”
She shook her head as if she’d never believe it. What would she think if he knew right now he couldn’t push aside the thought of getting in her pants? Would she think him such a noble gentleman then?
Holly barely said a word the whole trip back to his house, although she did get her camera out and snap the famous Hollywood Sign as they passed by at a distance.
“For Stella,” she explained, sensing his gaze on her.
“Right.”
And then she clammed up again. His hands on the steering wheel, his eyes trained on the road ahead, Nate occasionally glanced her way and his chest ached at what he saw. If you could adopt the fetal position sitting up, she had. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her plain loafers resting on the Viper’s leather upholstery. Usually he’d growl at anyone who dared to treat his beast with such disrespect, but with Holly he didn’t care. He’d done that to her. He’d forced her into facing something when she hadn’t been ready.
If she scuffed the leather, he’d have it fixed. It was just a car.
But he’d do anything to draw her out of her shell again. To bring back the Holly he’d spent last night and today with, the woman who’d made him feel more alive than anyone had in a long time. Now he knew the truth about her falling out with Daisy, there was nothing stopping him from following through on the lust that had been building up between them since day one. Was there?
“I’ll see what Ruby’s cooked.” Nate wasn’t sure Holly registered his words as he let himself and Holly into the house. “You go relax in the living room.”
She stood on the spot, looking terribly small and staring around his house as if it were the first time she’d laid eyes on it.
“Holly?” He didn’t know if she was seeing or hearing him.
Shit. Had he gone too deep with her? When he’d asked her to stay with him he’d wanted to confront her about Daisy, to make her admit she’d been wrong. Suddenly, it was about more. He stepped toward her, pulled her close into his side and ushered her down the hallway and into the comfort of his den. Due to always being on a job, he rarely had the time or inclination to relax at home, but when he did, this was the space.
The couch was so comfy you could take up residence on it. The lush carpet meant you didn’t need to wear socks even in the coldest temperatures. The plasma screen was mammoth and the walls were covered in his favorite shots.
He led Holly to the couch and gently sat her down. Although the wig was gone, her hair had formed some kind of bird’s nest under it and the nest had kept its shape. Her face was streaked with red splotches, despite her effort not to cry. Leaning back into the seat, she wrapped her arms back around her knees and hugged tight. She appeared to be in a kind of trance. He glanced toward the bar and, for the first time ever, cursed his decision not to stock it with alcohol. She could do with a brandy.
Instead, he found a throw given to him by one of his sisters many Christmases ago and took it to Holly, tucking it around her like a shield. “I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t register his words, making him wonder if she was in some kind of medical shock. He’d only ever studied the most basic of First Aid and that was years ago. His memory was rusty. For some reason, the only image that came to mind was hot chocolate. Luckily that was one drink he was King-pin at making. He’d made a million for Lissa and Bec during the years he’d been looking after them because his dad was drunk and his Mum too smashed up. He returned to the living room with two steaming mugs and marshmallows on the side, to find Holly still sitting like a statue. He set his mug down on the coffee table and held the other one out to her. “Take it.”
Slowly, her hands crept out from under the blanket and when her fingers closed around the warm mug, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He sat down beside her and started to drink. He’d almost finished his hot chocolate, when a tiny voice said, “Thanks. I don’t know what came over me.
”
He set his mug back on the coffee table and turned to face her. “Did you really only come here for your parents?”
She pressed her lips together tightly and shrugged one shoulder.
“What was your relationship like with Daisy before the Ian episode?”
She took a sip of her drink but maintained eye contact with him. Her grip looked so tight he didn’t think he’d be able to pry her fingers off the mug if he wanted to.
Finally, she spoke. “I idolized her. When we were little that is. She was five years older but she was always so fun and she humored my whims. I’d write plays and then we acted them—the kitchen table was our stage. She was always the star, of course.”
“Of course.” He laughed, his own memories of Daisy also strangely similar, not that they acted out any plays on the kitchen table. But Daisy had had the kind of personality that demanded attention. When she entered a room, she lit it up, leaving little room for anyone else. Holly was the same, but in a far more subtle way.
“She never spoke nastily to me or made me feel too young for what she was doing,” Holly continued. “Our parents were always fussing over her but she remained down to earth despite all the fame.”
She took a breath and another sip of hot chocolate.
“We were homeschooled because no normal school would work around Daisy’s schedule and I had to follow wherever she went, so I couldn’t attend a regular school either. She used to help me with my work and read me stories about fairies when she was supposed to be doing hers.
“But when I reached high school, I was sent to boarding school and Daisy got her first movie roll overseas.”
“Everybody Wants Me?” He recalled the box office hit that shot Daisy to international stardom.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Yep, that’s the one. Aptly named and the first of many. We grew distant after that. We still emailed occasionally and I was always going to visit her one day but our worlds were so different. We didn’t have much in common. Then I got together with Ian—his parents were friends of the family and we’d known each other forever. I got caught up in my Ph.D, in wedding preparations and we talked even less. Daisy came home about twice a year and stayed with my parents. Which they loved.”
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