by Summers, Jo
“Yeah. I’m just not sure any of this is worth it,” Andi said.
“You like him, don’t you? That damn sexy actor. You like him a lot.”
Andi suddenly became very interested in her fingernails as she considered her friend’s question. If she said it out loud, it would become far more dangerous than just a random thought floating around in her head. Speaking the words to her best friend would give them far more power, a power that could wound her. But wasn’t that what she wrote about? Wasn’t her main message in every book basically the same—that even though caring for someone comes with the potential to slice your heart open, or even to destroy you, that it also has great potential to heal, and to change life for the better? If she didn’t believe that, then she owed it to her readers to stop writing about it.
“I do, Lily. I really do care about him.”
“Then do what you need to do.” Lily grabbed Andi’s hands and pulled her up from the seat. “Tell him how you feel.”
Colin stepped out of the jeweler’s and practically skipped back to his bike.
He’d known it was perfect the second he’d laid eyes on the ring: a two-carat sapphire, diamonds on each side, set in a pristine platinum band. It didn’t look like anything the actresses he knew would wear—it wasn’t large enough to see from a kilometer away and it wasn’t heavy enough to cause wrist strain—but for Andi, it was just right. Even though the proposal was a farce, he wanted her to have a ring she’d enjoy.
He’d known it was the right ring as sure as he now knew that he wanted a real relationship with her. The idea scared the absolute shit out of him, but he wasn’t a coward, and the past few days with Andi had taught him more about hope and courage than he could have learned in a lifetime on his own.
It gave him a thrill that she had no idea. He’d spent the last few days in agony, trying to talk himself out of this notion, until he realized that it simply wasn’t possible.
He’d found a woman he was fond of, a woman he could trust—an intelligent, kind, beautiful girl who, for some reason, seemed to like him despite his tendency to be a stubborn arse at regular intervals.
Andi was expecting to play his fiancée that night—to put on a show with him while the cameras snapped evidence, but she didn’t know that he’d begun to want something more with her. The engagement would remain fake, but he needed to tell her that he wanted her to be with him, to see if they could turn their unlikely friendship into something even better. They owed it to themselves to try.
Colin hadn’t felt this optimistic, or this at peace with the world, since his audition for a popular London troupe years ago. He’d gotten the part, but had declined at his agent’s advice when he’d been offered a movie role instead. Part of him truly did miss the stage. Yeah, the money wasn’t anywhere near what it was for films, but there was purity and a level of challenge with stage acting that was absent from the screen. Maybe after he finished Seducing a Highland Warrior he’d take a break from all of this and return to his original love for a while. He’d saved for years and his bank balance was such that, if he were so inclined, he could live quite comfortably without ever working another day in his life. Money wasn’t an issue—it was just a matter of telling Charles, who would then almost certainly drop Colin as a client. Well, there was more than one agent in the business.
When he reached the bike, Colin secured his purchases in a zipped pocket of his leather jacket and started to put on his helmet when something at a newsstand on the sidewalk near his bike caught his eye. His mouth turned instantly into a desert and he set his teeth as he drew closer to the cart and read the words printed on a tabloid—words about Andi. He’d already had enough of that shit, but seeing the headline pushed him over the edge. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he longed to release his rage on something. How dare they sink so low?
He reached out both arms and, in one sweep, gathered all of the offending rags off the stand, shoving the heap into a garbage bin.
“Hey!” the clerk shouted. “You can’t—”
“Here. This should more than cover the lot, and make sure you clear out any additional stock you have,” Colin warned, tossing several large bills on the counter. The clerk snapped his mouth shut.
A small crowd of onlookers had gathered—big surprise, there—but Colin shoved his way through and headed straight for his bike. Helmet and sunglasses in place, he fired it up and lurched away from the curb, speeding down the street.
Chapter Thirteen
A low grumble emitted from Andi’s midsection, alerting her that she wanted something to munch on…no, on second thought, she was flat-out starving. She hadn’t eaten since who knew when, and she certainly wasn’t the kind of girl who forgot meals, but the thought of food was far worse than the roils of hunger in her stomach. She was far more nervous than she thought she’d be, going into the evening. She’d tried to pretend like she was just an actress, recalling the way Colin had talked her into trying on lingerie a few days ago. This was just another play she had to get through, so what was bothering her so much?
After Lily had dropped her off yesterday, following the tabloid incident that she never wanted to think about again, Andi had tried working on her new book to no avail. The words weren’t flowing in the stream they had been since she’d met Colin, and she was beginning to have a real fear that they might not ever again. As much as her writer friends joked about it, Andi didn’t believe in the idea of a muse. She knew that only hard work and putting her butt in the chair day after day, and getting the words down, ended in a book. There was no such thing as waiting for inspiration; she made her own inspiration. Yet, since she’d met Colin, it was like the flow of her writing was in direct correlation to…to what? To the amount of time spent with him? To the sex? No, it had to be something else…something simpler.
She walked to the mirror in her hotel room and began to apply her signature red lipstick – the one sliver of boldness she’d allowed herself before this week. Before Colin.
That was it; there was her answer, hitting her with the force of a train.
Her writing flow was in tune with her happiness. Her happiness was in tune with being around Colin, because Colin made her feel like her true self.
Andi closed her eyes, resting her palms against the cool marble countertop. She could leave this place and not go through with the fake engagement, could pack up her stuff right now and head to Lily’s for the night, and her best friend would drive her to the airport in the morning. But even if she ran, even if she fled Scotland without saying so much as goodbye to Colin, she wouldn’t be able to escape the way she felt. She’d known for a while now that she was into him, and whether or not he was brave enough to admit it, she was fairly certain he felt the same. But she was a grown woman who’d had her share of heartbreak, and she also knew that even though he might share her feelings, letting him into her heart was ultimately her choice.
And that was where the hard part came—in the choosing.
If she went back home, back to her comfortable if ordinary life, she would be okay. She had good friends who would help her get over this thing, and she had a career she’d written her fingers off for and wouldn’t give up without a fight; and she had her budding confidence.
She’d make it.
But what kind of life would it be if she ran away from what she knew, deep in her bones, was a chance at something wonderful. She wasn’t the kind of person who would be able to easily saddle such profound, lasting regret. She was Andi McKenna, romance writer, dreamer, believer in love, believer in happiness. And, for better or for worse, Colin had become a big part of her happiness.
She set down her lipstick and tousled a little serum into her hair before heading to the little closet where she’d hung her dress. She pulled it out of its garment bag and admired it once again as a plan began to form.
Within minutes she knew what she had to do.
She shrugged off the hotel’s soft, fuzzy robe and pulled on the bright pink stra
pless bra she’d bought, along with a matching thong she knew would drive Colin wild. Then she slipped the gorgeous dress over her head, reaching over her shoulder to pull up the zipper. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her new, outrageously expensive pink platform pumps—worth every penny—then headed back to the bathroom for one last glance.
Yesterday, she’d arrived back at the hotel feeling like a whale, thanks to that crappy piece in the tabloid—which was poorly written, by the way—she couldn’t help but notice. But after throwing herself a short pity party, Andi had realized something that she wouldn’t ever forget.
Holy shit, one of the hottest, most famous young actors in the movie business couldn’t keep his hands off her!
She recalled how hard he’d gotten seeing her rolls, thank you very much. So whatever two-bit hack wrote that garbage could go fuck him or herself for all Andi cared. Colin thought she was hot. He’d compared her to a Hollywood legend, and called her a pin-up girl. So, call her shallow, but if he thought she was gorgeous…then she must be gorgeous.
Looking in the mirror now, she could see herself through his eyes. She saw Andi McKenna the way Colin did, and he was right about her.
Oh yeah. This was going to knock him dead for sure.
When Colin saw her, he would want to rip off every piece of clothing she had on, and have his way with her. She would let him, of course, and she would enjoy every minute of it, but there was another step to be taken first.
Andi grabbed her pink, jewel-encrusted clutch, setting her shoulders back and raising her chin, then left for the ballroom to write her very own happy ending.
A driver came round and opened the limousine door for Colin, who stepped out into the mass of people surrounding the front entrance of the hotel. The snap of camera flashes filled his ears, and he kept his eyes straight ahead to avoid their blinding lights.
“Is it true you’re dating someone new?”
Flash.
“Are you still refusing to make amends with your best mate?”
Flash.
None of the comments bothered him as he walked up the stairs. He put all of his attention on the fans who’d come to see him, reaching out to shake a few hands here and there, pulling a pen from his front pocket to sign several autographs.
Those were the people who mattered—the people who’d supported his work and helped him get this far—none of the others were important. Charles had counseled him over the years to be as civil as possible with the journalists, which was a kind term for what they really were, but that was about all he could manage. Civility did not mean he had to be particularly warm or welcoming. Some actors played that card, but Colin couldn’t spare any respect for the so-called profession built around making stuff up and meddling in people’s lives. Some of them weren’t all that bad—and he knew a lot of them did it to feed their families like any other job—but several had been working so long at it they seemed to have forgotten that fame didn’t make a man any less human.
Arriving at the hotel’s entrance, Colin nodded to the doorman and stepped into the ornate lobby. He felt like a teenager on his first date as his eyes darted around, looking for the only woman he’d come to this thing for. His plan was to mingle enough to make his agent and the producer happy, and then as soon as he had the chance, he’d propose to Andi, and do his best to explain as quickly as possible that he wanted to talk to her alone about their relationship.
For some reason, he felt rushed, hurried, as though if he didn’t act with speed, something could take her away from him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was as if, coming this close to the possibility of genuine happiness, the risk was somehow greater that it could be snatched right out from under him if he wasn’t vigilant.
“Ah, there you are, Colin, my man,” Charles said, reaching out his arms as he glided across the lobby, dramatic as ever. Sometimes Colin thought he and his very gaudy American agent should switch places. Charles was more at home in Colin’s universe than he would ever be.
“Evening, Charles,” Colin said, his voice coming out squeaky like a kid in puberty.
Charles eyed him with clear suspicion, setting a heavily jeweled hand on Colin’s shoulder. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, quite,” Colin answered, much smoother this time. He cut to the chase. “Listen, Charles, there’s something I need you to do.”
“Go on.”
“As you know, I plan to propose to Andi McKenna tonight.”
Charles waved a hand. “Yes, the, ah, the…writer, I believe. The papers have been buzzing about her for a few days now. Soon they’ll figure out that you’re getting engaged and they’ll move onto the next available bachelor. Sometimes I swear this business is nothing but a highly lucrative meat market.”
“That’s right,” Colin said, annoyed. If the man wasn’t the best damn agent on both sides of the pond… “Anyway, there’s something I should mention.”
“Yes?”
Colin shrugged Charles’s hand off his shoulder and faced his agent—needing him to understand.
“The proposal isn’t fake anymore. I mean, it is still a fake proposal, but I really do care for this woman, and I need a chance to tell her without the cameras present. I need you to make sure that every photographer in this place is as far away from me as possible after I pop the question,” he said, a rush of excitement flashing through him. “I want them out of my way. If they’re swarming us after I propose, I won’t have a chance to speak with Andi, and I need her to know how I really feel about her.” Colin grabbed the agent by his shoulders. “Charles, do you understand?”
Charles looked a little green all of a sudden.
“Charles? Are you hearing me?”
“Yes, yes. Ah, there’s just one thing I should mention.”
Colin raised his eyebrows.
“Nicole is here…with Erik.”
Colin’s stomach dropped, but he drew himself up. What difference did that make? He had tunnel vision now—all he cared about was making Andi believe that he wanted a real future with her. He didn’t give half a damn about Nicole or Erik.
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Charles asked, placing a hand on Colin’s shoulder.
Colin was unable to contain himself. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” he said, grasping his agent in a bear hug, just barely resisting the urge to pick the man up off his feet and swing him about. He’d never felt like this—alive, childlike, but also very adult in his confidence in the decision he’d made. How incredible it was to know with his whole being that he needed Andi to be happy. No one else would do.
“Well then,” Charles said, releasing himself from Colin’s hold, “I’m behind you one hundred percent. Whatever you need.”
Colin nodded, grinning like an idiot before he smoothed his lapels. He ran his fingers over the ring in his pocket. Even though the proposal was a ruse, he still hoped the piece of jewelry he’d chosen would make her happy.
The ballroom was lovely, as long as Andi kept her eyes away from the stage where a few days shy of a week ago she’d made her astoundingly graceful first impression to an entire film cast and crew.
She shivered a little at the memory, pushing it out of her mind as she searched for Colin. Only a day had passed since they’d spoken, but it seemed more like months; the hours since she’d last seen him had slithered by like molasses. She wanted to tell him about what had happened at the newsstand, to hear his soothing voice tell her it was okay—it meant nothing—she was still beautiful to him and that was all that mattered. She wanted to show him her new dress. He was more than a lover, he’d become a great friend and more—something Jared had never been.
She strolled through the room on her heels, feeling tall, powerful, and sexy, as though she belonged among the group of actors and artists who were gradually filling the room. The glass chandeliers overhead shimmered, shreds of their light draping over the tables, dancing with the flames from candles floating in little glas
s bowls of water. Bouquets of native Scottish bluebells filled the room and the adjoining terrace, making the place feel more like a castle garden than part of a five-star hotel.
It was incredibly romantic—the perfect place for a proposal, in fact. Andi sighed, grabbing a flute of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray. Too bad the one she’d get was a big fat lie choreographed for everyone but her. It didn’t matter, though. Now was her chance to rewrite her own fairytale.
She took an unladylike swig, draining the contents of the glass just in time to reach for another. Her hand bumped into someone else’s as she attempted to wrap her fingers around a fresh drink. “Colin,” she sputtered, setting the glass back down before she had a chance to upset the tray. “You look…amazing.”
She’d started the evening so confident, prepared for what was coming, but as each second passed, her nerves became increasingly raw as though exposed to air. He was so perfectly formed that he didn’t even look real—his dark, wavy hair grazing the collar of his expertly tailored tuxedo, the outlines of his shoulders and biceps unhidden by the expensive material, hazelnut eyes glowing in the candlelight. She gripped the clutch at her side with the strength of an iron vice, meeting his steady gaze.
“Andi…”
He seemed to want to say something, but nothing came out. He just stared back, his carved features full of all of the emotion rushing through her at whirlwind speed, nothing close enough to catch and hold. Everything around her blurred as he reached out and grasped her hand, leading her away from the thickening crowd.
Finding as quiet a spot as possible in the bustling room, Colin gathered both of her hands in his, and the next thing he did knocked the breath out of her; Andi’s heart plummeted to the depths of her chest. The stunning blue gem glinted underneath the chandelier, piercing her with its flawless beauty. If she’d spent months searching, she wouldn’t have found a more uniquely perfect ring. Bold and elegant, it suited her alone.