Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1)

by Belinda Williams

  “Well, when you figure out if you can trust me, let me know and we can talk about creating some pieces for you,” I offered, meaning it.

  She nodded briskly. “Let’s see how you go at the Oscars.”

  I hid a smile.

  “Here he comes,” she said.

  My smile faded.

  “I’ll catch you later.”

  I barely even saw her go, because I was unable to take my eyes from Jake. His suit jacket was open, flapping as he walked toward me. His fair hair was disheveled and I wondered if he’d been running his hands through it. But it was the sight of his face that made me inhale deeply. He was tired. Good-looking as ever, but so tired. Defeated.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering what I was going to say to him, wondering where to start. Did I apologize for making a spectacle of myself? Or did I defend my actions? And what about Sally? Where did I even start with that one?

  When he was only a few steps away, I opened my mouth to speak.

  “Jac—”

  Without hesitating, he pushed me back against the car and all the breath left me. Something metal—probably the door handle—was digging into my back. His palms cradled my face.

  “Allegra.”

  “Yes?” I whispered, distracted by the feel of his hands on my cheeks and his body covering mine. It hadn’t been a question, but I still felt the need to respond because he was scaring me.

  Gone was the defeated expression. Instead he stared at me with intent.

  “I love you.”

  “What?” OK, probably not the best response.

  His lips twitched. “You heard me.”

  “Oh.” Still not a great response. I cleared my throat because it felt like I’d swallowed a handful of sand. “You do?” I managed.

  “I do.”

  Then he kissed me, which was kind of convenient because I was undecided between bursting into tears or saying something else stupid. Jacob Swan had just told me he loved me and I was unable to come up with a response.

  Did I love him? I’d always thought it would be easy to fall in love with him, but I’d been so busy living and breathing Jake these last few weeks I hadn’t stopped to think about how I really felt.

  Or had I been too scared to?

  With his lips on mine, everything began to fade. The days of unanswered phone calls, his scary brother, my embarrassing behavior, my muddled feelings—all of it.

  A good minute or two later we surfaced for air and I gasped.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding at all breathless. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, that I didn’t tell you about my father. I’m sorry about my brother and—”

  I put a hand on his chest. “It’s OK. Well, it wasn’t then, but it is now because I understand. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just turned up or spoken to your brother like that and—”

  “Are you kidding? You were awesome. Better than awesome.” He grinned at me.

  “I was?” Way to go with the confidence there, Ally.

  “Hell, yeah. The only reason I pulled you back was because I was worried you were going to sock him one.”

  “Well, I . . . ” I actually couldn’t have said with all certainty that I wouldn’t have hit his brother if I’d been given the chance. Then I paled.

  “What?”

  “He hit her.” I still couldn’t say her name. Nor did I want to think about what his brother might have done if I had hit him.

  His grin faded.

  “Yes. Is she alright?”

  He nodded and his mouth twisted into a tight frown. “She’ll be OK. Even better when the divorce goes through.”

  I swallowed. “Do you think he’s done it before?”

  “I don’t know.” But the dark look in his eyes told me he thought otherwise. “And I’m sorry you had to find out about my past like this. I—” His voice cracked and he stopped talking, dropping his gaze.

  I put a hand to his cheek gently. “It’s OK. I wasn’t completely unprepared. I finally googled you.”

  He shook his head fiercely, meeting my eyes again. “That doesn’t make it any better. I’m sorry, Ally. It’s no excuse, but I guess after Mom died I wanted to leave it all in the past.”

  “I know.”

  We stood there looking at each other, not saying anything. Despite the dark circles, his blue eyes shone brightly at me.

  “Come to the Academy Awards with me,” he said. “As my plus one.”

  “What?” I gaped. Wow, when Jake got going, he really didn’t hold back.

  “I want you on the red carpet beside me. I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

  “But. . . but I thought you said it was a bad idea. I thought—”

  “Ally, I would never put you in any danger. We’ll make sure you’re safe. Trust me. With that many celebrities in one place it will be more secure than the White House.”

  I stared at him. Jacob Swan loved me and he wanted me by his side on the red carpet.

  I put a hand on my mouth to cover my laughter.

  “Ally?”

  My shoulders started shaking and I clamped the other hand over my mouth.

  “Why is this funny?” He looked more confused than insulted.

  “Because,” I gasped, “it is. It really is.” I giggled and shut my mouth again.

  “Enlighten me?”

  “Because I’m Ally Valenti, you idiot! I’m the family babysitter. The lonely old cousin everyone keeps trying to set up on dates. I was holding out hope for a normal guy one day, but this . . . this!”

  Jake stepped in closer and took both of my hands. “I told you the first time I kissed you: this is real. Don’t doubt it.” To prove his point, he kissed me again, slow and deep. “Oh, and I got the part,” he added, when he drew back eventually.

  “Huh?” My lips felt swollen and if my brain had been muddled before, now it was out for the count.

  “On Broadway. A dramatic role starting later this year.”

  “What?” I cried, his words finally sinking in. “You’re going to be on Broadway?” He flashed me a shy smile and I squealed then jumped up and down. “I told you. I told you. I told you!”

  He laughed and I threw myself into his arms.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I said into his shoulder and I felt his laughter stop. “What? What did I say?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, his voice gruff.

  I tried to ease back but he held me fast, then I heard him sniff. My eyes widened in realization. Oh my God. There was a part of him that believed his stupid brother’s incorrect assessment of his acting ability.

  I clamped down hard on my anger at his horrible family and directed it into being positive instead. “You’ll be amazing,” I told him. “Absolutely amazing.”

  He didn’t say anything, just held me tight. He only drew back when people started exiting the tent.

  “Come on,” he said. “That’s our cue to leave.”

  “What? Don’t you want me to meet the rest of your family?”

  He shook his head at my bad humor. “Another time. I’m driving, too. How about I meet you at my hotel?”

  I agreed and he quickly told me the address of his hotel, then we raced to our cars.

  It was only when I was safely past the row of photographers on my way to the hotel that I realized I’d never said it. I’d never said I loved him.

  Chapter 40

  “Don’t let go of my hand,” I hissed.

  “No chance of that,” Jake replied through his smile.

  I had no idea how he did that. Maybe all the best actors went to ventriloquist school, because how else did they talk and not stop smiling?

  My own smile felt forced, like it was painted on. I was certain it appeared fake, but hopefully everyone was looking at my dress and not at my face. Or at Jake. I was his plus one and I couldn’t stop staring at him.

  The man made the red carpet seem effortless. He offered people easy smiles, joked with other actors and generally appeared at
ease.

  Me? I was holding onto his hand like my life depended on it.

  And it kind of did. I was finding it hard to see anything on account of the constant flash photography and was desperately afraid of tripping over in my precariously high heels. It was unrelenting. Oh, and blinking? Overrated. You didn’t dare blink because—snap!—it would be caught on camera. I was amazed my eyes weren’t streaming.

  “Ready for some interviews?” Jake asked me in a low voice while still smiling.

  I inclined my head to indicate a yes and prayed that angle of me looked good in the pictures.

  Jake's smile broadened. “Hey, Ally? Maybe try for a little less Bambi.”

  “Oh, fuck.” I bit my lip and my Bambi impersonation intensified. I was going to look like a deer in the headlights, wasn’t I? Or be caught swearing. Mama would absolutely love that.

  Jake laughed, grabbing my hips and turning me to him. “Relax.” Then he kissed me, right there in front of everyone, for the whole world to see.

  A frenzy of flashes went off in my peripheral vision. I imagined Arabella—and everyone else in my extended family—squealing in delight. And I’d been trying so hard not to think about the fact that the Academy Awards was being aired live.

  Jake let go of me and I swayed unsteadily on my feet. It wasn’t a new sensation. Everything about the last couple of days had left me feeling unsteady. Our reunion sex in the hotel in Charleston had been a good kind of unsteady. After that came the rush to get home and prepare for the awards in under forty-eight hours. As well as making sure Lena and Chloe’s dresses were perfect, I’d had to contend with getting myself ready, too. I’d barely seen Jake.

  Not to mention all the extra security precautions. Lena had refused point blank to share the red carpet with Marc and I didn’t blame her. There was no doubt he could have pulled it off with his brooding good looks, but the last thing Lena needed was more controversy around her love life.

  At one point I thought they would almost come to blows over it. He seemed determined to ensure her safety, and she was equally determined to have as little to do with him as possible. It was her quiet, consistent refusal that won out in the end.

  I’d seen Marc stalking the sidelines of the red carpet earlier. He’d been relegated to the area reserved for the press and publicists like Suzie. I’d noted his all-black outfit matched his mood. From a style perspective it suited him. If I’d been creating a men’s clothing line based on his look, I’d name it ‘Dark Angel.’

  “Jacob Swan! And who is this lovely lady you have sharing the red carpet with you tonight?”

  I blinked at the woman in front of us. A reporter, obviously. She was dressed as glamorously as everyone else but her newsreader delivery gave her away. I swallowed. I didn’t actually remember getting here. Either I’d been daydreaming when Jake had guided me over or I’d been blinded by all the flashing lights.

  Jake flashed the reporter a megawatt smile and I noticed her composure slip for a second. Well, that was one way of keeping the media off-balance.

  “This is Allegra Valenti, my girlfriend and designer of some of the gowns you’ll see tonight,” Jake replied easily.

  “Girlfriend? Well, this is exciting news. Is Jacob Swan officially off the market?” the reporter asked with a coy smile.

  I resisted pointing out that Jacob Swan was standing right here and she didn’t need to talk about him in the third person.

  He looked straight at the camera and treated the viewers to a disarming smile. “Sorry, ladies, I’m spoken for.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes at his delivery.

  “It’s official, girls. Jacob Swan is off the market.” The reporter put a hand to her ear. “Hear that? That’s the women of America sighing in disappointment, but I’m guessing you’re not disappointed with the year you’ve had, Jacob? You put your superhero skills to good use in the latest installment of X-Men, and then you starred alongside recent Golden Globe winner Lena Lyons in a new romantic comedy. What’s next for you?”

  Jake put an arm around my waist and gave the reporter a brief overview of the new action movie he’d be filming in New York next, as well as announcing the news of his Broadway debut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe twirling in her emerald dress for the cameras in true Cinderella style.

  When Jake was finished answering, the reporter turned to me and I smiled so hard it hurt.

  “So, Allegra. Lena Lyons and Chloe Kemp are wearing your dresses tonight. How does that feel?”

  I felt Jake squeeze my hand. At least this was an easy question.

  “Wonderful, obviously,” I said. “It’s an honor to have two of my dresses on the red carpet with designers I’ve admired my entire life.”

  “Not just two of your dresses, surely? Didn’t you create the stunning red gown you’re wearing tonight?”

  “Oh, yes.” I looked down at my dress self-consciously. “This. It’s one of mine as well.”

  “This?” the reporter repeated, playing up my understated reply for the audience at home. “I think Jacob will agree it rivals Lena’s and Chloe’s gowns.”

  “You bet, Candace,” Jake agreed. “I can’t take my eyes off her.”

  “And the whole of America can’t take our eyes off both of you. You’re a gorgeous couple.”

  With that, she wrapped the interview up and moved on.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Jake said.

  “It was alright,” I admitted, letting my smile relax for a moment. “Just don’t let me watch the news tomorrow.” Except I knew full well I’d do exactly that so I could see how my dresses looked.

  “Ready for the next?” he asked.

  “No, but let’s get it over with.”

  It actually got a little easier. I discovered being interviewed was preferable to being exposed to the constant photography. There was something about facing the cameras and being forced to smile that made me feel trapped. It was different when I was allowed to talk. I felt more comfortable. And that even included a few difficult questions.

  Are you and Faith Martin on good terms?

  Why did you and Faith attend Jacob’s father’s funeral?

  Does Faith’s close relationship with Jacob bother you?

  Fortunately, Lena had subjected me to an intensive media training session the day before. We’d worked through all the possible questions I might receive and rehearsed the answers. It became like practicing lines. And thankfully those lines flowed right off my tongue when required. Somehow I survived the red carpet interviews in one piece.

  With only about ten minutes until we were ushered inside for the awards ceremony, Lena found us.

  It was like watching the tide turn as all eyes followed her. Although not as ostentatious as Chloe’s ballgown, Lena’s navy dress was eye-catching. I’d chosen a plunging neckline because it suited Lena so well and exposed her pale skin tastefully. The material gathered at the waist and I’d spent hours creating a thick blue beaded belt that sat over the top. From there the gown fell in a princess style with layers of flowing chiffon.

  “Are you willing to be photographed with Chloe and me?” Lena asked when she arrived at my side.

  “Really? That would be great. Whose idea was that?”

  “Suzie’s,” she said. “It will look great on your website.”

  I’d have to thank Suzie later for her smart thinking. I immediately agreed and followed Lena to where Chloe was already waiting.

  The three of us standing together seemed to have the desired effect and a murmur rippled through the crowd.

  “This way, Lena!”

  “This way, Chloe!”

  With Lena standing in the middle and Chloe and I either side, we put our arms around each other and smiled for the cameras. Then I felt Lena stiffen.

  It took me a moment to follow her gaze because once again I’d been blinded by the numerous flashes going off.

  “Oh, crap,” I said without thinking. Fortunately the constant buzz surrounding the red c
arpet meant the only ones who heard me were Chloe and Lena. Although I was dreading the photo of me with my mouth caught in a rounded ‘o’.

  “It’s OK,” Lena whispered.

  She was being too calm. Much too calm, which meant Lena wasn’t alright at all.

  I watched as Duncan Moore and Miranda walked toward us on the red carpet. It was like witnessing royalty arriving. The pair smiled for the cameras, waved, laughed and stopped every few feet to acknowledge their subjects.

  I felt a ball of fury rising in my chest and did my best to swallow it. This is what she wanted all along, I thought. Miranda wanted what she considered to be her rightful position, and that was at Duncan’s side basking in all the acclaim with him. It didn’t matter that I didn’t really like Duncan or that I was quietly hopeful Lena wouldn’t go back to him. That was beside the point. The woman was a destructive, malicious stalker.

  “Ally,” Lena warned, sensing the anger rolling off me in waves.

  I plastered a smile back onto my face when they stopped in front of us.

  For all his self-assured Hollywood swagger only a second ago, Duncan Moore transformed into an awkward schoolboy in Lena’s presence. It wasn’t surprising after their last altercation. He was definitely on the back foot. In fact, despite his coiffed salt-and-pepper hair and rugged good looks, I could just make out dark circles beneath his eyes.

  “Lena,” he murmured, clearly transfixed by his beautiful soon-to-be ex-wife.

  Miranda didn’t even seem to notice. “My goodness,” she exclaimed. “Don’t you girls all look gorgeous!” The delivery was somewhat lacking because her face didn’t share in the compliment. What was she made out of? Plaster of Paris?

  “Thank you,” Lena said gracefully, also ignoring Duncan. “I love your dress, too.”

  I forced my eyebrows to remain in their usual position but it was very, very difficult.

  “Oh!” Miranda waved a hand at Lena. “This thing? It’s very simple but that’s best when you get to my age. You girls are like works of art.”

  “Thanks, Miranda,” Chloe cut in. “I definitely feel like it. Isn’t Ally talented?”