Falling for Mr. Unexpected

by Inge Saunders

  “Alexander!” The menace in his tone had his friend straightening up, though not as quickly as he would have liked.

  Emma stared at him like he had sprouted horns.

  “Emma’s bandage was too tight. It cut off some of the circulation in her foot.”

  “I was walking on pins and needles,” she added.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you if you were fine and you said—”

  “I was fine and still am,” she finished for him. “I was sitting down for the premiere, remember. When I went to get some more juice, the bandage didn’t feel tight.”

  “And what are you, the bandage hero?” Damian asked sarcastically as he glared at Alexander.

  He really liked his friend. They were close compared to the usual superficial Hollywood relationships, but he wasn’t about to tolerate Alexander hitting on his girlfriend.

  Alexander held up his hands. “Happened to be walking by.”

  “Then please proceed.”

  Alexander smirked and walked away.

  She frowned. “What’s that all about?”

  “I didn’t like him touching you,” he answered honestly.

  “It’s just my foot.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he replied curtly. He knelt down and quickly retied the bandage. “This better?”

  “Did you seriously think I would…?”She sighed.

  “Not you, him. He’s a womanizer.” He was still kneeling. She rested her hands on his shoulders and bent down so her eyes could meet his.

  “I would never cheat on you, Damian.”

  He touched her cheek. “I know. But I realized how refreshingly different you are and how jaded womanizers like Alexander would find that appealing.” He grimaced.

  “It would be a futile attempt.”

  He gave her a sardonic smile. “Doesn’t mean I would want him around you…alone. It seemed pretty intimate from where I stood.”

  She gave a short laugh and then bent closer, touching her lips to his, and whispered against them, “Like this?”

  He took a handful of her hair and pulled her closer.

  “Like this.” He crushed her under his assault, claimed her as his again and wished the world could see his mark on her.

  She was his. And for a moment everything inside of him stilled so much so his fierce kiss gentled down. She’s mine. She belonged to him. It had been such a heady notion he was glad he was still on his knees.

  A flash went off and both of them turned in its direction.

  “A definite marriage proposal,” the paparazzo said and hightailed it out of there before one of them could come to their senses.

  He sighed deeply, breathing her in as well. “You know what this means?”

  She looked at him confused. “What?”

  “You’ll have to marry me now,” he said.

  “Yes every girl wants a forced marriage.”

  “I don’t feel forced,” he joked.

  “I wasn’t talking about you,” she said, with her hands resting on his shoulders.

  He pulled her into a tight hug, his earlier ghosts still lingering.

  “Can we go home now?” she asked.

  His heart tightened. Home. “Yes,” he replied, his heart swelling with hope.

  They rode in silence and even though paparazzi had followed them, he could see she wasn’t as upset as she had been before. When they arrive at the apartment complex he made sure to shield her with his body, but images of them would still grace the morning papers.

  When he opened the door, she walked through it with a sigh. “Nomsa’s going to kill me. Not only did I take off without telling her, but apparently I’m engaged, now, too.”

  He could see her biting the inside of her lip. “Would it be such a bad thing? Being engaged to me?”

  She turned to him. “We’ve only known each for a little more than a week. Decided to date, almost, four days ago. How can you even ask me that?”

  He stared at her for a moment, not sure of what he wanted her to say.

  “It’s been a long day. We should get some sleep,” he finally said.

  He helped her to her bedroom and instead of her “fighting” him off at the door, he planted a soft kiss on her lips and went to his room. As he shrugged off his jacket he could admit to himself, he wanted more from her. He had wanted her to say as ridiculous as the idea may be to the world, it wasn’t to her.

  Emma closed her bedroom door behind her, glad he didn’t know how frantically her heart beat, like it wanted out of her chest.

  She took her water glass on the nightstand to the bathroom to get some water for her dry throat. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, thankful the makeup hid her pale reflection.

  When the paparazzi bombarded them with questions, it had shocked her. She wondered how they could have known something so personal so quickly. He told the lie to her mother after all. But she guessed this was how they made their bread and butter.

  She could distance herself from them after the shock was over. Their comments weren’t valid, so completely far removed from the truth.

  Emma emptied the glass and put it next to the sink, then ran the tap again and splashed her face. She needed to remove her makeup anyway. She wiped her face clean, wiping some hindering thoughts with it.

  But they kept crowding back in.

  The last paparazzo had caused the night to end on a particularly low note. She could see the dejection in Damian’s eyes, for once able to read him. She wondered, when did that happen?

  She frowned at her reflection. You didn’t fall for someone and then a week later dream of marriage. That’s not how it works.

  She finally got used to the idea she had unchangeably fallen in love with him. And now this! It’s insane. She gripped the sink. How could he ask me…?

  She took a quick shower then changed into her nightdress and went to bed, trying to still her mind. She had two days left of her holiday. She had to leave. School was waiting, her students and her responsibilities.

  Emma flipped on her back. Her small apartment. She glanced around the bedroom; she would miss it. Emma put her arm over her eyes. She would miss him, too. She opened her eyes.

  Why didn’t anyone say it was this hard? Love isn’t an easy road to travel.

  Emma sat upright.

  Her leaving placed so many things in perspective. She swung out of bed and struggled to locate her crutch. She found it under the bed and then made her way to the door, not thinking twice about what she was doing. She knew she had to make things right or she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  She made her way down the dark hallway, silently berating herself as shadows seem to leap at her. Or it could be my imagination.

  You’re a grown woman, Emma Cupido, she reminded herself, you don’t scare at things that go bump in the night.

  She stopped in front of Damian’s bedroom door and realized she hadn’t been near it the whole time she had been there. Emma softly knocked, not sure if he was still awake and then started to feel stupid.

  “Damian.” Not knowing why she whispered, she told herself it was to not disturb him if he was fast asleep. She held her ear to the door to listen for movements, but she couldn’t make out anything.

  Damn him and his soft, thick carpets. She whispered again, “Damian!”

  This time a little more urgently. The dark hallway had started to freak her out.

  The door suddenly swung open and she tripped forward, awkwardly landing in his arms.

  “Oomph!” His broad chest brought her up short. “Why do you have to be so sneaky?” She asked over her embarrassment.

  Emma braced herself against his torso. She frowned at his bare upper body and then stared up at him. She wasn’t surprised to find him scowling down at her.

  “Do you need something?” he asked in a gruff tone.

  Her crutch had fallen to the floor, so she needed to steady herself by using him, which became disturbingly unnerving.

  “Yes.” Her voice came
out hoarse and she cleared it. “Yes.”

  Damian switched on the light and she moved with him, cursing the invention of the light bulb.

  He was barefoot, having only come from his bed, but attached to those feet were a pair of strong legs she had last seen in their nude finery when they first met. He had on a pair of briefs, and her hands were now planted on either side of his hips. “Washboard” was definitely the word she would use to describe his abs.

  That first day his half naked form had her blabbering like an idiot. Now, as she stood so close to him and was in love with the person the chest belonged to, she remembered how thrilling it was to have those hard planes pressed against her. A flush crept throughout her body. Deliciously so.

  The rise and fall of his torso gained her attention, and she had to stifle the squeak wanting to escape her mouth.

  Oh this is so not what I came for. She knew perfectly well she was Lizle Vlam’s favorite shade of lipstick.

  “Emma is something wrong?” Concern edged his voice.

  His question brought her up short, and she quickly focused her eyes on something other than their intense scrutiny of his six-pack.

  She gulped, blew air into her cheeks, and then blew it out. His body contracted at the contact, and she blinked.

  Why am I here again? a sober part of her fogged up brain asked.

  “Um….”Emma tried but blew air out of her mouth again. His muscles rippled again.

  “You’re going to have to stop doing that.” She heard the smile in his voice. Damn, he’s got broad shoulders. Henry Cavill’s got nothing on….

  He chose that moment to cup her face.

  “What’s wrong, Emma?”

  And she blurted it out, not in the way she had planned. Not that she actually had a plan but it would have been better than, “I would marry you any day of the week. I don’t know why I freaked out the way I did. I’m in love with you….” She paused. “I love you.”

  It took a full heartbeat for him to react, but when he did her whole world went right side up again.

  His mouth sought hers and suddenly he was all she needed, the reason for every single why in the world.

  As one hand went to her back to pull her closer and her own arms drifted around him, it made perfect sense to have loved so quickly and so completely.

  “I love you, too.” He pulled back and they stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

  “I’m sorry.” She broke the silence.

  He gave a short laugh. “This more than made up for it.” He traced her lips with his thumb.

  “I was stupid,” she insisted.

  “At least you’re woman enough to admit it,” he countered.

  “But I hurt you.”

  He smiled. “Are you going to contradict everything I say all the time?”

  “Not all the time.”

  He kissed her again.

  “I think I should go to bed now.” She slowly pulled away from him.

  His eyes twinkled. “Oh really? And why is that?”

  Her brow lifted. She gave his bare chest a glance. “I think you know.”

  He wore a lopsided grin when she stared back up at him.

  “Is my chest disturbing you?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Not as much as it seems to be disturbing you.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you did say I have a pretty everything.”

  She put her hands up to her face. “Ah! I can’t believe you just said that.”

  He took her hands in his and planted a kiss on them. “I love it when you blush. You’re so cute when you do.”

  She pulled, what she hoped, wasn’t a cute face. “I’m not a puppy.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “Puppies are cute. And babies. I’m not cute.”

  “She walks in quiet beauty.” He quoted Shakespeare.

  “That’s more like it.”

  They stood grinning at each other like idiots.

  She was glad she hadn’t waited till morning to make things right between them.

  This time when he walked her to her door, it took a considerable amount of effort to get both of them calmed down and in a decent state to go to bed. But she still managed a full hour pondering what had happened before succumbing to restful sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emma had been too much in a moment of sheer bliss to really pay attention to the world around her. She would have noticed storm clouds gathering, would’ve been prepared when the cold drops landed to wake her up to reality.

  Her day had started out perfectly fine. Damian had to be on the set early in the morning and had told her she could make use of his driver if she wanted to. He would be home a bit later than usual. They were pressing for time and wanted to get all of the media nonsense completely out of the way.

  It surprised her they had to do so much legwork to get back on track with a movie that had been a month away from finished. But she shrugged it off as movie business.

  Emma decided to wander around the apartment complex.

  The previous night had been hectic, and she wanted to a spend a quiet day without rushing anywhere. She would make them something to eat when she went back, she mused as she sat in the lush gardens.

  When people walked past her she smiled and they returned the friendly gesture.

  The day had been perfect; with her at peace, content, why wouldn’t it be? As she made her way back to the apartment, Lizle Vlam stood in the hallway, all leggy and dazzling in a little red dress.

  When she spotted Emma she grinned, but not of the friendly kind.

  She came across like a predator spotting her prey.

  Over the last couple of days, Emma had made it a point to keep out of the woman’s way. Damian had said she was good at what she did and if she hadn’t been sure he wasn’t interested in Lizle, she probably would have been insecure he played this woman’s love interest.

  Emma made her way up to her. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself,” Lizle retorted.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Emma asked.

  “Why don’t you wait till we get inside,” Lizle said, smugness in her tone. Her superior attitude grated.

  Emma’s brow creased as she unlocked the door and then gestured for Lizle to go through first. She closed the door behind them and chose the comfortable living room instead of the more modern red one.

  “Have a seat.”

  But Lizle Vlam already sat down. She placed her huge handbag next to her—also red.

  They gave each other small smiles.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Emma realized she should have asked before they sat down.

  “This isn’t a social call.” Lizle glanced down at her bag and then at Emma. “I couldn’t stand seeing you toyed with anymore.”

  Emma blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Lizle Vlam waved a dismissive hand.

  “I know what you think of me. And you are right. I was interested in Damian. But not anymore. Not after what he’s doing to you.”

  Emma didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet. She needed Lizle to get to the point.

  “I’ve always been open and honest about my casual relationships. Men always know where they stand with me.” She sighed and Emma had to give it to her. This time nothing about her seemed contrived. Not the way it had been at the beach house.

  “And yes, I am known to be aggressive about what I want. But I never use people, and I never mislead them.” She picked up her handbag and unzipped it. Out of it she took a disk. She made a sound through her nose.

  “As it turns out, my publicist has been trying to catch me on tape for a time now. Apparently she was waiting for the’right’ kind of celebrity to film me with and then leak the tape.”

  Her expression was deadpan. “I wasn’t lying. I had nothing to do with that. It’s not my style.”

  Emma believed her. For once Lizle Vlam wasn’t putting on an act, but what was she getting at?

&nbs
p; Emma frowned. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because Damian lied to you, Emma. And this is the proof.” She held the disk in her hand. Sunlight caught it, blinding Emma for a moment.

  She swallowed hard. “What’s on it?”

  “We were on the start of something casual. Nothing serious, mind you,” she said with a smile, “It does create more interest in a film if there’s some kind of romantic link between the leading actors. So I asked the director to organize a date for us at Rosario’s. Harmless.”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. Lizle flipped her hair. “You’ll see it’s all on there. I’m not going to sit here and drag it out. I’m not malicious, but I do want you to know Damian is not who you think he is. And if he can lie to you, in your face….” Her sentence hung in the air.

  Emma leaned forward. “Then why now? Why come out with this now? You had almost a week! If what you’re saying is true, then why keep it to yourself?”

  Lizle Vlam was silent for a moment, as if weighing her next words. “Because I honestly thought you were a fling. A distraction he would break off when he came back to LA. I didn’t know he would let this drag on for so long.” She zipped her handbag. “Emma, you don’t fit into this world. That’s why it’s so easy for him to deceive you like this. You’re a good person. Wholesome. There’s nothing fake about you. I admire that.”

  Emma’s brow lifted at the comment.

  “And it’s also why I’m here. I’m not going to take up more of your time. I’m sorry to have to do this to you. I’m not going to pretend I’m a friend; you know I’m not.”

  She got up and smoothed down her little red dress. “But since none of your friends are here, it’s the least I could do.”

  Emma made a move to get up, but Lizle Vlam gestured for her to not stand up. “It’s okay. I can see myself out.”

  Her heels clicked on the floor tiles and then the door opened and closed. But Emma still didn’t react. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then opened them.

  Nope, the disk was still on the sofa where Lizle Vlam had left it. She stared, unable to decide what to do.