Tempted

by Anthony, Alexandra

  "I thought we could celebrate. What better way than to drink cheap drinks and sing badly. Humor me," Siobhan brushed her long red hair over one shoulder and propped her chin in the palm of her hand. “Don’t act like you aren’t going to have fun.”

  Arranging my lips into a tight smile, I attempted to look cheerful and I knew I failed miserably. "I'm having fun already. See."

  Siobhan rolled her hazel eyes and stood up. "That’s it. We’re doing shots. Lots and lots of shots. Patron, here we come!"

  Watching her retreating back, I couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. She was more like a sister to me as well as being my closest friend. She'd been my support throughout my parent’s divorce and my horrifying brush with celebrity. I was still occasionally recognized and made the pages of gossip magazines when days were slow. I would forever be the teenage girl in the sexy panties to many Hollywood insiders, even though it was nine years ago and those pictures now seemed tame by today’s standards.

  "Drink it up. I told Randy to keep them coming." She slammed a shot glass down in front of me, sliding a salt shaker and a napkin filled with lemon wedges down on the tabletop.

  "Oh Von. This isn't going to end well," I groaned. Siobhan slid across from me and picked her shot glass up.

  "I propose a toast. First, to my best friend and sister. Good luck in your newest job and I wish you the best luck at being the first woman to make Nick Hart crumble. And to me. My picture of Marley Cirran was on every gossip site worldwide. This was a good day for me." Siobhan waited patiently for me to clink my shot glass against hers. Smiling triumphantly, she tossed her shot back and shook her head. Following suit, I downed the tequila in one swallow, enjoying the smooth burn of the alcohol.

  It had been a good day for Siobhan, but she'd sent a young girl's career in a downward spiral. The 16-year-old girl inside of me that had suffered through that kind of embarrassment and public shame shuddered at the implications.

  "You know how I feel about what you do. I understand, but that doesn’t mean I like it. And Siobhan, you know nothing is going to happen with Nick and me. I don't mix business and pleasure." I grabbed the second shot glass and drank it hastily. I'd likely be calling a cab tonight and regretting my poor judgment tomorrow. But it had been one hell of a day.

  "I'll shelve my glee for my big break today. As far as Nick Hart goes, we'll see," she waved me off. Siobhan became serious and leaned closer, her eyes twinkling. "What's he like?"

  Sitting back in my chair, I crossed my arms and thought of my brief encounter with Nick. He seemed intense one moment and all charm the next. "He's gorgeous. Much better looking in person, if that's even possible. He's strangely intense one second and then back to the million dollar smile the next."

  "Hmmm." She sat back and strummed her fingers on the table. Her gossip blogger mind was churning, thinking through my words. She leaned forward, her voice taking on a conspirator tone. “I probably shouldn’t say anything…but no one knows who Nick Hart is. He bursts on to the scene and no one, and I mean no one, knows where he came from. No former school mates, no friends. He’s a blank slate.”

  “Siobhan, you know how I feel about gossip. Especially unfounded gossip.” I cringed as I thought of how ruthless the paparazzi could be.

  She fluttered her hands in surrender. “I’m not saying I buy into what they’re saying. There are whispers about his identity. No one he supposedly attended school with remembers him. He’s like a ghost.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “A ghost? Von, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “Like I said, I didn’t say I believed it. I’m working on it though.”

  And if there was anyone who could figure it out, Siobhan would be the person to do it.

  We drank our way through the bottle of tequila and listened to badly sung covers of Rihanna, Maroon 5 and Bruno Mars. My mind was comfortably numb when the music changed. The room was filled with the sounds of guitar and drums.

  Then the voice began...it was clear, crisp and slightly husky with the distinctive lilt that could only belong to one person.

  Nick Hart was here.

  Craning my neck for a better view of the tiny stage, I was shocked to see him behind the microphone, singing his own song. Dressed in all black, he looked every bit of the rock star he was. He looked perfectly at home there, his boyishly handsome face intense as he belted out his own lyric.

  I've walked along alone

  Without a hand to hold.

  I didn't think I wanted attention

  Now I know I was in need your distraction.

  You have to choose

  Nobody wants to lose

  Life can be a lonely game

  Don't wanna see you in pain.

  It's up to you

  Forget those lonely nights and broken dreams

  I’ll wipe away your tears

  It's up to you

  I'll fix all your bad decisions

  I'll take the time to listen

  Afraid of what you've discovered

  Keeping your feelings under cover

  You can't hide from the truth forever

  The hardest thing to do is face the stormy weather

  Why is it so hard for you to just let go

  Give us a chance before you say no

  Love can be so fleeting

  Especially when you're the one I'm needing

  It's up to you

  Forget those lonely nights and broken dreams

  I’ll wipe away your tears

  It's up to you

  I'll fix all your bad decisions

  I'll take the time to listen

  When the final notes of the song faded out, the small crowd cheered. He flashed his blinding smile and stepped off the small stage, heading across the bar towards our table. I noticed two men join his entourage: a tall, lanky man with curly black hair wearing grey tinted glasses. Like Nick, he was also dressed in all back from head to toe. The other man was muscular and lean, tall with thick reddish brown hair. He’d chosen to break free from the lack of color and was dressed in various shades of blue and gray.

  Siobhan's voice was an awed whisper as she grabbed my arm. "Holy shit balls."

  Half-toasted, I ran a clumsy hand through my blond hair and hoped I'd managed to look halfway presentable. Knowing my luck, my mascara was smeared under my eyes and my hair was completely unruly. Siobhan's eyes became larger, her foot swiftly kicking me in the shins under the table.

  "He's coming over here. To our table," she hissed. She hastily adjusted her low cut blouse and grinned from ear to ear.

  Leaning over to rub my leg, I knew I'd be sporting a hell of a bruise tomorrow. I glared at her. "Are you trying to maim me? I can see him...so much for your ghost theory. You act like this is first time you’ve seen a celebrity up close for god’s sake."

  She bent across the table. I'd never seen her face so serious. "Nick Hart is rarely photographed out like this. This…this is huge."

  Everything was always the next big story to Siobhan. She lived in a world where she was looking for the big story, the picture to expose a secret a celebrity wanted to keep hidden.

  Nick stopped at the edge of our table. He rested his hand on the back of the empty chair, leaning his weight forward. He offered up a crooked grin as I glanced up at him. "We meet again. Hello, Savannah."

  Only someone like Nick Hart could make something as simple as a hello sound sexy. It simply wasn't fair.

  His black hair shone in the dim lighting of the bar. Giving him a quick nod and looking away, I wasn’t going to trust myself to speak. Had he gotten better looking? Was that even possible?

  "Can we join you?" His smooth voice broke into my thoughts, jarring me back to reality.

  "Uh, of course. Please, sit down," I mumbled. Nick grabbed the chair, spinning it around and straddling it. After he made himself comfortable, he gestured to his friend.

  "This is my good friend, Malcolm. Malcolm, this is my new assistant Savannah and her friend...�
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  "Siobhan Winters," she interrupted, smiling at Nick sweetly.

  "Ah, you're my agent’s daughter," Nick tapped his long fingers across the table as his sharp brown eyes scrutinized her. "And you run a gossip blog. Your picture and expose just knocked down Marley Cirran a peg or two."

  She sat up straighter and flipped her red hair proudly. "You're right on both counts."

  Malcolm smiled widely and sank into the chair across from Nick. His hair was as black as Nick's except it was tousled in lazy curls. His eyes were partially obscured by his smoky lensed glasses and his skin was a deep olive. He was handsome in an unconventional, nerdy sort of way.

  "It's a pleasure. Nick had said he'd hired an..an assistant. I'm sure we'll be seeing quite a bit of each other," Malcolm folded his hands on the table. He slouched slightly, his lanky frame relaxing.

  "And why would that be exactly?" I questioned boldly. I looked between Nick and Malcolm curiously. My question earned me another swift kick under the table from Siobhan. At the rate we were going I was going to be covered in bruises.

  Malcolm’s eyes darted around the room. He turned a large silver ring around on his finger. "Nick and I go way back. We're almost like brothers, isn't that right Nick?"

  Nick pursed his lips tightly, giving Malcolm a withering stare. "I suppose you could say that. He also happens to be my head of security."

  The auburn haired man behind Nick cleared his throat. Nick lifted a brow and chuckled." And as you can see, I'm being reminded of my rudeness. This is Ian. He's my personal bodyguard."

  Ian said nothing, only nodding his head at us in acknowledgment.

  My eyes scanned over his imposing figure before focusing back on Nick. "So what brings you to a Karaoke bar in Koreatown?"

  He glanced at Malcolm, arching an eyebrow. Malcolm nodded and stood, leaning over to whisper in Siobhan's ear. Whatever he said surprisingly caused her to blush almost as red as her hair and she scooted away from the table excitedly.

  "I'll be right back," Siobhan promised, wiggling off with Malcolm smoothly following behind her.

  Nick nodded his head at Ian. Ian moved to stand against the wall nearly 10 feet away. Nick leaned over the table, his long arm stretching to almost touch mine with his fingers. And even though we didn't touch, I could feel the electricity pulsing between us. It was static, magnetic and sent a mystifying charge through my body. "I like to get out. People leave me alone in places like this. No one would ever expect to see Nick Hart in a Karaoke bar. You can relate to that I'm sure."

  My brain was barely functioning due to the amount of alcohol I'd consumed. I simply stared at him; powerless to move away from the hold he had over me. My eyes traced over the sharp curve of his jaw and the elegant sweep of his cheekbones. His deep-set brown eyes seemed far away for a moment. He blinked and flashed his disarming smile, erasing the somber expression on his face.

  The synapses started firing in my brain again. How much did he know about me? "Why would I understand?"

  "You were the face of Clark Cline almost 10 years ago. You caused quite the controversy." As if intent on changing the subject, he tapped the empty bottle of Patron on the table. "Celebrating something in particular?"

  It only took the mere mention of Clark Cline to make my skin crawl. He was slimy, a predator dressed in a designer suit. Swallowing away the bad taste his name left in my mouth, I forced myself to smile. "Siobhan was celebrating her scoop. Even the AP picked up her story. It was a big day for her if you’re in the blogging game. She's a major player now."

  Nick rubbed his fingertips over his lips. He studied me carefully with his piercing brown eyes before he propped his forearms on the table, his sexy voice barely louder than a whisper. "And you? What are you celebrating?"

  Now it was my turn to blush. I spun an empty shot glass on the table, watching it spin for a moment. Shooting him a shy smile, I finally met his stare. "Being gainfully employed by a generous boss. That was a hell of a signing bonus. You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

  He considered my words much longer than I anticipated. His lips turned up at the corners. "You have to be one of the oddest women I've encountered in Hollywood. You’re refreshingly sincere and modest. Who are you and where have you been all my life?"

  "I could ask you the same. You're not like other people in the industry. You're almost considered a recluse by Hollywood standards." I pointed out.

  He shrugged, but his expression remained carefully neutral. He kept his gaze on me until he finally spoke. "Maybe we’re both enigmas. What can I say? I'm boring and I like my privacy."

  “No, try again,” I snickered quietly. I tossed my hair over my shoulder. "You're far from boring, Nick. I think there's more to you than meets the eye."

  "Do tell. I love a good theory..." His voice tapered off and the intensity between us hummed. His fingertips inched closer until they brushed against my wrist softly. The moment our skin met, a jolt of scorching desire darted through me. I'd never had this sort of response to a man's touch before. It was exhilarating…and equally terrifying.

  I jerked as the bitter realization of my situation washed over me. This beautiful man sitting next to me was my boss. He wasn’t a conquest or an enjoyable little flirtation. It wasn't smart to have a fling with someone that signed your paycheck, no matter how gorgeous and irresistible I found him to be.

  It was that exact moment that Siobhan plopped down in her seat with Malcolm hot on her heels. Her cheeks were flushed. Her normally smooth red hair was messy and her dark crimson lipstick was smeared across Malcolm’s lips.

  This was an interesting development. I eyed my friend inquisitively but she wisely averted my stare.

  Their intrusion broke the moment and Nick's hand pulled away. He sprawled back in his chair and focused on my friend. "Siobhan, I have a proposal for you."

  Even though I knew it was wrong, my skin missed his compelling touch. It was tempting to reach for them, to will them back to feel that fire again.

  Get a grip, Savannah. I obviously needed to stop drinking.

  Siobhan folded her hands on the table. "You have my attention. I'm listening."

  "What if I were to give you access for your photographers to catch me out and about? It would give me more freedom because public demand would be met. It's a win for you because you get the scoop on me."

  My friend was no dummy and her hazel eyes narrowed skeptically. "Why me and why now?"

  "I chose you since you’re Savannah's friend and she trusts you. Things are changing. I need to be more open so when I'm caught out it's not a feeding frenzy." Nick gave her his charming, blinding smile. "What do you say?"

  Siobhan didn't hesitate. She stuck her hand out to him. "Deal."

  Nick shook her hand, but his eyes were locked on mine. I wished at that moment that I could see into his mind, if only for a split second to see what secrets he was keeping. There was something puzzling about our odd conversation tonight, something I couldn't put my finger on.

  Siobhan started rattling on about the details of their ‘arrangement’ and I tuned them out. I'd settled on sitting back and scrutinizing Nick as he spoke with her. Impossibly handsome, his hair was fashionably tousled. His chocolate brown eyes darted between Malcolm and Siobhan frequently as they planned, the chiseled curve of his jaw tensing occasionally. He was animated, his elegant hands gesturing as they settled on a strategy. The more I watched him, the more unsettled I became.

  Finally excusing myself to head for the ladies room, I locked the door behind me and rested my back against the cool metal. I mentally berated myself. It wasn't healthy to have this sort of attraction to someone I could never be with. He was unattainable and untouchable for many reasons.

  Images of my on again/off again boyfriend floated through my alcohol-addled mind. Kevin and I weren't dating, but I know he considered us to be more of an item than what we were. It wasn’t fair of me to be mentally lusting after something that would never be more than a fantasy.
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br />   Sighing heavily, I took my time washing my hands and attempting to salvage my makeup. The hours I’d spent drinking hadn't been kind to my mascara or eyeliner. However, my brief time alone had settled my mind and I felt ready to face the table again. Unlocking the door, I staggered out into the hallway.

  Honestly, I wasn't surprised to see him waiting for me as I exited the ladies room. Sexily slouched across the wall of the narrow hallway, his arms were crossed under his chest. His handsome face had been brooding, but when his eyes met mine his lips twisted into the smallest of smiles. He pushed off the wall and backed me against the opposite wall.

  "I like you, Savannah." The back of his fingers caressed my cheek softly. "Too much, in fact."

  "I bet you've used that line before," I teased softly, clearing my throat uncomfortably. His closeness was causing my already ragged breathing to hitch and my heart to race uncontrollably in my chest.

  He chuckled darkly. His eyes burned with a strange ferocity that pulled me to him instead of pushing me away. The smell of leather and his smoky, spicy cologne surrounded me. "I can assure you I've never said that to any other woman."

  Swallowing nervously, only inches separated our bodies from touching. An invisible, yet tangible pull drew me to him like a moth to a flame. I was too tired to fight him and I let my traitorous body give in to the energy pulsing between us.

  "You're my boss..." I managed to mutter weakly. My body had missed the memo. It shamelessly shifted closer to him.

  "It's a little after 11 pm and if you want to get technical, I'm not officially your boss. Yet." His cool breath fanned over my face. "So beautiful, Savannah." His lips were soft as they brushed a path down my cheek to press against my jaw. His chest and arms were strong and secure as he pulled me closer. I fought against him for a respectable five seconds before collapsing against him in willing surrender. My fingers instinctively plunged into his silky hair, pulling his head back. My lips and hands had a mind of its own, or if I wanted to pass the buck, the alcohol had taken over. I boldly trailed lines of wet, tonguing kisses down his neck.