The Talk of Hollywood

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Gramps, I’m the last person Jaxon would want to see while he’s here,’ she assured him dully.

  ‘You can’t possibly know that—’

  ‘Oh, but I can.’ Stazy gave a self-derisive shake of her head. ‘If you thought I was rude to him at our initial meeting then you should have seen me during those first few days we were alone together at Bromley House!’ She sighed heavily. ‘Believe me, Gramps, we parted in such a way as to ensure that Jaxon will never want to see me again!’ Stiltedly. Distantly. Like strangers.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure about that …?’

  ‘Yes, of course I’m sure.’ Her voice sharpened at her grandfather’s persistence. Wasn’t it enough for her to suffer the torment of knowing Jaxon was in England at all without having to explain all the reasons why he wouldn’t want to see her while he was here? ‘Feeling the way I do, I’m not sure it would be a good idea for me to see him again, either,’ she said emotionally.

  Her grandfather sat back in his chair. ‘That’s a pity …’

  Her eyes had misted over with unshed tears. ‘I don’t see why.’

  ‘Because when I saw him earlier today I invited him to join us this evening for dessert and coffee.’ Geoffrey glanced across the restaurant. ‘And it would appear he has arrived just in time to take up my invitation …’ Jaxon was totally unaware of the attention of the other diners in the restaurant as they recognised him. He walked slowly towards the table near the window where he could see Stazy sitting having dinner with her grandfather.

  Even with her back towards him, Jaxon had spotted her the moment he had entered the crowded room; that gorgeous red-gold hair was like a vivid flame against the black dress she wore as it flowed loosely over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back!

  ‘Stazy,’ he greeted her huskily as she looked up at him warily from beneath lowered lashes.

  Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed before answering him abruptly. ‘Jaxon.’

  Close to her like this, Jaxon could see that her face was even thinner than it had been three months ago—as if she had lost more weight. The looseness of the cream dress about her breasts and waist seemed to confirm that impression. ‘I appreciate it’s the done thing, when you meet up with someone again after a long absence, to say how well the other person is looking—but in your case, Stazy, I would be lying!’ He almost growled in his disapproval of the fragility of her appearance. ‘And I know how much you hate lies …’

  Her cheeks were aflame. ‘And what makes you think you’re looking so perfect yourself?’ she came back crisply.

  ‘That’s much better,’ Jaxon murmured approvingly, before glancing across the table at the avidly attentive Geoffrey Bromley. ‘When I asked about you earlier today your grandfather was at pains to tell me how happy and well you’ve been this past three months.’ He raised mocking brows at the older man.

  ‘Yes. Well. Family loyalty and all that.’ Geoffrey had the grace to look slightly embarrassed at the deception. ‘I did invite you to join us for dessert and coffee so that you could see Stazy for yourself. Speaking of which. No, there’s no need to bring another chair,’ he told the waiter as the man arrived to stand enquiringly beside their table. ‘I have another appointment to get to, so Mr Wilder can have my seat.’ He bent to pick up the briefcase from beside his chair before standing up in readiness to leave.

  ‘Gramps—’

  ‘I believe you told me yourself weeks ago that you’re a big girl now and no longer in need of my protection …?’ he reminded her firmly, before bending to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ‘If you’ll both excuse me …?’ He didn’t wait for either of them to reply before turning and walking briskly across the restaurant.

  Yes, Stazy had told her grandfather that—but it had been in a totally different situation and context from this one!

  That her grandfather had invited Jaxon to join them this evening with the deliberate intention of leaving her alone with him she had no doubt. Quite why he should have decided to do so was far less clear to her.

  Especially so when the first thing Jaxon had done was insult her. And she had then insulted him back. Some things never changed, it seemed.

  Her own insulting remark had been knee-jerk rather than truthful—Jaxon had never looked more wonderful to her than he did this evening. His silky dark hair was still shoulder-length, brushed back from the chiselled perfection of his face, and the black evening suit and snowy white shirt were tailored to the muscled width of his shoulders and tapered waist.

  He looked every inch the suave and sophisticated actor Jaxon Wilder. Something Stazy had already noted the other female diners in the restaurant seemed to appreciate!

  ‘So …’ Jaxon had made himself comfortable in her grandfather’s recently vacated chair while Stazy had been lost in her own jumbled thoughts.

  ‘So,’ Stazy echoed, her heart beating so loudly that she felt sure Jaxon must be able to hear it even over the low hum of the conversation of the other diners. ‘You’ve obviously finished writing the screenplay.’ She glanced down at the bound copy on the tabletop.

  His gaze sharpened. ‘Have you read it …?’

  ‘My grandfather only just gave it to me, so no—’ She broke off as she finally read the front page of the screenplay. ‘Why is my name next to yours beneath the title …?’ she asked slowly.

  He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘You helped gather the research. You deserve to share in the credit for the writing of the screenplay.’

  This explained why her grandfather had advised her to read the front cover when he gave it to her. ‘I’m sure my less than helpful attitude was more of a hindrance than a help—’

  ‘On the contrary—it kept me focused on what’s important.’ Jaxon sat forward, his expression intense. ‘Look, do you really want dessert and coffee? Or can we get out of here and go somewhere we can talk privately …?’ He absently waved away the waiter, who had been coming over to take their order.

  Stazy raised startled lids to look across at Jaxon uncertainly, not in the least encouraged by the harshness of his expression. ‘And why would we want to do that …?’

  Jaxon cursed under his breath as he saw the look of uncertainty on Stazy’s face. ‘I’ve missed you this past three months, Stazy,’ he told her gruffly. ‘More than you can possibly know.’

  She grimaced. ‘Couldn’t you find anyone else to argue with?’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘There’s that too!’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sure you’ve been far too busy to even give me a first thought, let alone a second one!’

  ‘Try telling my female co-star that—we’ve had to do so many retakes because of my inattentiveness that I finally decided to give everyone the week off!’ he muttered self-disgustedly.

  Stazy blinked. ‘The pirate movie isn’t going well …?’

  ‘Totally my own fault.’ Jaxon sighed heavily. ‘I haven’t been feeling in a particularly swash or buckling mood.’ He picked up one of her hands as it rested on the tabletop and lightly linked his fingers with hers. ‘I have missed you, Stazy.’

  She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘How can you miss someone you didn’t even want to be friends with the last time we were together?’

  ‘Because friendship isn’t what I want from you, damn it!’ Jaxon scowled darkly. ‘The fact that I asked you to go away with me for a few days should have told you that much!’

  ‘You seemed to feel we had unfinished business—’

  ‘I wanted to spend some time alone with you—’

  ‘People are staring, Jaxon,’ she warned softly, having glanced up and seen several of the other diners taking an interest in their obviously heated exchange.

  ‘If we don’t get out of here soon I’m going to give them something much more interesting than this to stare at!’ he came back fiercely.

  Stazy looked at him searchingly—at the angry glitter in his eyes, the tautness of his cheek, his tightly clenched jaw and mouth. ‘Such as
…?’ she prompted breathlessly.

  ‘This, for a start!’ He stood up abruptly, his hand tightening about hers as he pulled her to her feet seconds before he took her into his arms and his head swooped low as his mouth captured hers.

  Stazy had always been reserved, never one for drawing attention to herself, but the absolute bliss of having Jaxon kiss her again—even in the middle of a crowded restaurant, with all the other diners looking on!—was far too wonderful for her to care where they were or who was watching.

  She rose up on tiptoe to move her hands to his chest and up over his shoulders, her fingers becoming entangled in that gloriously overlong dark hair as she eagerly returned the heat of his kiss.

  ‘God, I needed that …!’ Jaxon breathed huskily long seconds later, as his mouth finally lifted from hers. He rested his forehead against hers. ‘You have no idea—’ He stopped speaking as the restaurant was suddenly filled with the sound of spontaneous applause from the other diners.

  ‘Oh, dear Lord …!’ Stazy groaned as she buried the heat of her face against his chest.

  ‘Show’s over, folks!’ Jaxon chuckled huskily as he picked up the screenplay before putting his arm firmly about Stazy’s waist to hold her anchored tightly against his side. The two of them crossed the restaurant.

  ‘Sir Geoffrey has already taken care of the bill, Mr Wilder,’ the maître d’ assured him as they neared the front desk. He handed Stazy her black jacket. ‘And may I wish the two of you every happiness together?’ The man beamed across at them.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jaxon accepted lightly, and he continued to cut a swathe through the arriving diners until just the two of them were standing outside in the cool of the autumn evening.

  Stazy had never felt so embarrassed in her life before—at the same time she had never felt so euphorically happy. Jaxon had kissed her. In front of dozens of other people. Not only that, but he hadn’t denied the maître d’s good wishes. Of course he had probably only done that as a means of lessening the embarrassment to them all, but even so.

  Jaxon had kissed her! And she had kissed him right back.

  ‘Do you think you could stop thinking at least until after we’ve reached that “somewhere more private”?’ he prompted persuasively.

  Stazy looked up at him uncertainly. ‘Where do you want to go?’

  He shook his head. ‘Your apartment. My apartment. I don’t give a damn where we go as long as it’s somewhere we don’t have an audience!’

  Stazy gave a pained frown and looked up at Jaxon in the subdued light given off by the streetlamp overhead. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’ She was still too afraid to hope, to allow her imagination even to guess as to the reason why he had done something so outrageously wonderful.

  ‘It’s simple enough, Stazy. Your place or mine?’ Jaxon pressured as the taxi he had hailed drew to a halt next to the pavement.

  ‘I—yours,’ she decided quickly; at least she would be able to walk out of Jaxon’s apartment whenever this—whatever ‘this’ was!—was over. With the added bonus that when Jaxon had gone she wouldn’t have to be surrounded by memories of his having been in her own apartment.

  Jaxon opened the taxi door and saw Stazy safely seated inside, giving the driver his address as he climbed in to sit beside her. ‘Come here—you’re cold.’ He drew her into the circle of his arms after he saw her give an involuntary shiver in the lightweight jacket she wore over the cream dress. ‘Do you have to be anywhere in the morning?’

  Her face was buried in the warmth of his chest. ‘It’s Saturday.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ he rebuked lightly.

  Probably because Stazy didn’t understand the question! Why did it matter to Jaxon whether or not she—? ‘Oh!’ she gasped breathlessly. She could think of only one reason why he might possibly want to know such a thing.

  ‘Yes—oh,’ he teased huskily. ‘And before your imagination runs riot I have every intention of keeping you locked inside my apartment until you’ve listened to everything—and I do mean everything—that I should have said to you three months ago. That could take a few minutes or could take all night, depending on how receptive you are to what I have to say,’ he acknowledged self-derisively.

  Stazy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Will there be any swashing or buckling involved in this … this locking me away in your apartment?’ she prompted shyly.

  Jaxon arms tightened about her as he gave an appreciative chuckle. ‘I think there might be a lot of both those things, if it’s agreeable to you, yes.’

  Stazy thought she might be very agreeable.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘SO.’ STAZY stood uncomfortably in the middle of the spacious sitting room of what had turned out to be the penthouse apartment of a twenty-storey building set right in the middle of the most exclusive part of London. The views of the brightly lit city were absolutely amazing from the numerous windows in this room alone, and there appeared to be at least a dozen furnished rooms equally as beautiful in the apartment Jaxon had told her he only used on the rare occasions when he was in London.

  ‘Let’s not start that again, hmm?’ Jaxon prompted huskily.

  ‘No.’ She smiled awkwardly. ‘This is a very nice apartment. Does it have—?’

  ‘Hush, Stazy.’ Jaxon trod lightly across the cream carpet until he stood only inches in front of her. ‘Tomorrow, if you really are interested, I’ll give you the blurb that I received on this place before I bought it. But for now I believe we have other, more important things to talk about.’

  ‘Do we?’ She looked up at him searchingly. ‘I have no real idea of what I’m even doing here!’ She wrung agitated hands together. ‘You had lunch with my grandfather today. Came to the restaurant this evening supposedly to join us for coffee and dessert—and then didn’t even attempt to order either one of them. You then kissed me in front of dozens of other people after my grandfather left—’

  Jaxon put an end to her obvious and rapidly increasing agitation by taking her in his arms and kissing her again.

  More intensely. More thoroughly. More demandingly.

  ‘You know,’ he murmured several minutes later, as he ended the kiss and once again rested his forehead on hers, ‘if I have to keep doing this in order to get a word in edgeways this is definitely going to take all night!’

  Stazy gave a choked laugh. ‘I don’t mind if you don’t …’

  ‘Oh, I’m only too happy to go on kissing you all night long, my darling Stazy,’ he assured her gruffly. ‘Just not yet. First we need to talk. I need to talk,’ he added ruefully. ‘To make it completely, absolutely clear how I feel.’

  She caught her bottom lip between pearly white teeth. ‘How you feel about what …?’

  ‘You, of course!’ Jaxon lifted his head to look down at her exasperatedly. ‘Stazy, you have to be the most difficult woman in the world for a man to tell how much he loves her!’ he added irritably.

  Stazy stilled, her eyes very wide as she stared up at him. ‘Are you saying you love me …?’

  ‘I’ve loved you for months, you impossible woman!’

  ‘You’ve—loved—me—for—months …?’ she repeated in slow disbelief.

  ‘See? Totally impossible!’ Jaxon snorted his impatience as he released her to step away and run a hand through the darkness of his hair. ‘There are millions upon millions of women in the world, and I have to fall in love with the one woman who doesn’t even believe I love her when I’ve just told her that I do!’

  It was entirely inappropriate—had to be because she was verging on hysteria—but at that moment in time all Stazy could manage in response was a choked laugh.

  Jaxon raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘And now she’s laughing at me …!’

  Stazy continued laughing. In fact she laughed for so long that her sides actually ached and there were tears falling down her cheeks.

  ‘Care to share the joke?’ Jaxon finally prompted ruefully.

  She leant
weakly against the wall, her hands wrapped about her aching sides. ‘No joke, Jaxon. At least not on you.’

  ‘Who, then?’

  ‘Me!’ She smiled across at him tearfully. ‘The joke’s on me, Jaxon! I’m so inexperienced at these things that I—Jaxon, I fell in love with you when we were at Bromley House together. I didn’t want to,’ she added soberly. ‘It just … happened.’

  Jaxon began walking towards her like a man in a dream. ‘You’re in love with me …?’

  ‘Oh, Jaxon …!’ she groaned indulgently. ‘There are millions and millions of men in the world, and I have to fall in love with the one man who doesn’t even believe I love him when I’ve just told him that I do,’ she misquoted back at him huskily.

  His arms felt like steel bands about her waist as he pulled her effortlessly towards him, his gaze piercing as he looked down at her fiercely. ‘Do you love me enough to marry me …?’

  She gasped. ‘You can’t want to marry a doctor of archaeology?’

  He nodded. ‘I most certainly can! That is if you don’t mind marrying an actor and film director?’

  ‘Excuse me,’ she chided huskily, ‘but that would be a multi-award-winning Hollywood A-list actor and director!’

  ‘Whatever,’ Jaxon dismissed gruffly. ‘Will you marry me, Stazy, and save me from the misery of merely existing without you?’

  She swallowed. ‘Being alone in a crowd …?’

  ‘The hell of being alone in a crowd, yes,’ he confirmed huskily.

  Stazy knew exactly what that felt like. It was how she had felt for the past three months since she’d last seen Jaxon.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘I’ve been so lonely without you, Jaxon. Since my parents died I’ve never wanted to need or love anyone, apart from my grandparents, and yet you’ve managed to capture my heart.’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘I love you so much, Jaxon, that these past three months of not seeing you, being with you, has been hell.’

  ‘Hence the weight loss and lack of sleep?’ He ran a caressing fingertip across the dark shadows under her eyes.