Rumors on the Red Carpet

by Carole Mortimer

  But there were still so many questions that remained unanswered. The most burning question of all, for Thia, being the name of the woman Jonathan claimed to have seduced out of Lucien’s bed.

  Mainly because Thia simply couldn’t believe that any woman would be stupid enough ever to prefer Jonathan over Lucien...

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘YOU JUST NEVER listen, do you? Never heed advice when it’s given, even when it’s for your own safety!’

  Lucien’s expression was as dark as thunder as he strode past Thia and into her hotel suite early the following evening, impressively handsome in a perfectly tailored black evening suit with a snowy white shirt and red silk bow-tie—making it obvious he had obviously only called to see her on his way out somewhere.

  ‘Do come in, Lucien,’ she invited dryly, and she slowly closed the door behind him before following him through to her sitting room. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and she was wearing a pale blue fitted T-shirt and low-rider denims. ‘Make yourself at home,’ she continued as he dropped a large box down onto the coffee table before sitting down in one of the armchairs. ‘And do please help yourself to a drink,’ she invited.

  He bounced restlessly back onto his feet a second later to cross the room and open the mini-bar, taking out one of the miniature bottles of whisky and pouring it into a glass before throwing it to the back of his throat and downing the fiery contents in one long swallow.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  Lucien turned, silver eyes spearing her from across the room. ‘Not in the least,’ he grated harshly, taking out another miniature bottle of whisky before opening it and pouring it into the empty glass.

  ‘What’s wrong, Lucien?’ Thia frowned.

  His eyes narrowed to glittering silver slits. ‘You gave me your word last night that you wouldn’t see Miller today—’

  ‘I believe I said that I wouldn’t go to his apartment,’ she corrected with a self-conscious grimace, knowing exactly where this conversation was going now.

  ‘So you invited him to come here instead?’

  Thia sighed. ‘I didn’t invite him anywhere, Lucien. Jonathan turned up outside my door. You only just missed him, in fact...’

  His jaw tightened. ‘I’m well aware of that!’

  She arched a brow. ‘Dex?’

  Lucien’s eyes narrowed. ‘It was totally irresponsible of you to be completely alone with Miller in your suite—’

  ‘But I wasn’t completely alone with him, was I?’ Thia said knowingly. ‘I’m pretty sure Dex followed me to the docks today, and that he was standing guard outside the door to this suite earlier. And no doubt he ratted me out by telephoning you and telling you Jonathan was here.’

  Lucien’s eyes glittered a warning. ‘Dex worries about your safety almost as much as I do.’

  ‘Who’s watching your back while Dex is busy watching mine?’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘So can I!’

  Lucien gave a disgusted snort. ‘I discovered the first grey hair at my temple when I looked in the mirror to shave earlier—I’m damned sure it’s appeared since yesterday.’

  ‘Very distinguished,’ she mocked. ‘But there is absolutely no need for either you or Dex to worry about me,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Jonathan only came by to apologise for the way he’s behaved these past few weeks. He also said that when the two of you spoke earlier today you offered to give him another chance on Network if he agrees to go to rehab.’

  ‘An offer I am seriously rethinking.’

  She sighed. ‘Don’t be petty, Lucien.’

  An angry flush darkened his cheeks. ‘I made the offer because you asked me to, Cyn. Not for Miller’s sake.’

  ‘And because you know it makes good business sense,’ she pointed out ruefully. ‘It would be indescribably bad business for you to sack the star of Network when the programme—and Jonathan—are obviously both so popular.’

  Lucien’s mouth thinned. ‘And you seriously think losing a few dollars actually matters to me?’

  Thia slipped her hands into the back pockets of her denims so that Lucien wouldn’t see that they were shaking slightly—evidence that she wasn’t feeling as blasé about this conversation and Jonathan’s visit earlier as she wished to give the impression of being.

  She had seen Lucien in a variety of moods these past few days: the confident seducer on the evening they met, the focused billionaire businessman at his office the following day, playful and then seductive in his apartment yesterday evening, before he became cold and dismissive towards Jonathan, and then a total enigma to her after Jonathan deliberately dropped the bombshell of her virginity into the conversation.

  But Lucien’s mood this evening—a mixture of anger and concern—was as unpredictable as the man himself.

  Her chin rose. ‘I thought we had agreed to meet in a public place this evening?’

  ‘I decided to come here after Dex called up to the penthouse and informed me of Miller’s visit.’

  ‘You could have just telephoned.’

  ‘I could have just done a lot of things—and, believe me, my immediate response was to do what I’ve threatened to do several times before and put you over my knee for having behaved so damned irresponsibly,’ he bit out harshly.

  Thia frowned. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t I be the one who’s feeling angry and upset?’ she challenged.

  Lucien’s expression became wary. ‘About what?’

  ‘About everything!’ she burst out.

  He stilled. ‘What else did Miller tell you earlier?’ Lucien’s expression was enigmatic as he picked up the whisky glass and moved to stand in the middle of the room—a move that instantly dominated the space.

  ‘Nothing I hadn’t already worked out for myself,’ Thia answered heavily. She had realised last night, as she’d lain alone in her bed, unable to sleep, exactly who the woman involved in the triangle must be. There had been only one obvious answer—only one woman Jonathan had spent any amount of time alone with over the past few days. And it wasn’t a triangle but a square. Because Simone Carew, Jonathan’s co-star in Network, also had a husband...

  And if, as Jonathan claimed, he had seduced Simone away from Lucien’s bed several months ago, then Jonathan’s assertion that Lucien, believing Thia was Jonathan’s English lover, had seduced her as a way of getting back at Jonathan, it all made complete sense.

  Painfully so.

  Perhaps it was as well she would be leaving New York tomorrow, with no intentions of seeing Lucien or Jonathan ever again.

  Not seeing Jonathan again didn’t bother her in the slightest—they had said all they had to say to each other earlier.

  Not seeing Lucien again—that was something else entirely.

  Because Thia had realised something else as she’d lain alone in her bed the previous night. Something so huge, so devastating, that she had no idea how she was going to survive it.

  She was in love with Lucien Steele.

  Thia had heard of love at first sight, of course. Of how the sound of a particular voice could send shivers of awareness down the spine. How the first sight of that person’s face could affect you so badly that breathing became difficult. Of how their touch could turn your legs to jelly and their kisses make you forget everything else but being with them.

  Yes, Thia had heard of things like that happening—and now she realised that was exactly what had happened to her!

  The worst of it was that the man she was in love with was Lucien Steele—a man who might or might not have been deliberately using her but who certainly wasn’t in love with her.

  ‘Such as?’ Lucien prompted harshly as he saw the pained look on Cyn’s face. ‘Damn it, Cyn, even the condemned man is given an opportunity to defend himself!’ he said a
s she remained silent.

  She looked up, focusing on him with effort. ‘You’re far from being a condemned man, Lucien.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘And I think it’s for the best if we forget about all of this and just move on.’

  ‘Move on to where?’ he prompted huskily.

  She gave a pained frown. ‘Well, Jonathan to rehab, hopefully. Me back to England. And you—well, you to whatever it is you usually do before moving on to another relationship. Not that we actually had a relationship,’ she added hurriedly. ‘I didn’t mean to imply that—’

  ‘You’re waffling, Cyn.’

  ‘What I’m doing is trying to allow both of us to walk away from this situation with a little dignity.’ Her eyes flashed a deep dark blue.

  ‘I don’t remember saying I wanted to walk away.’ He quirked one dark brow.

  She gave a shake of her head. ‘I know the truth now, Lucien. I worked out most of it for myself—Simone Carew. Jonathan filled in the bits I didn’t know, so let’s just stop pretending, shall we? The condensed version of what happened is that you gave Jonathan two separate verbal warnings, about Simone and the drugs, he invited me over here in an attempt to mislead you about his continuing relationship with Simone at least, and you—you flirted with me to get back at him for taking Simone from you. End of story.’

  ‘That’s only Miller’s version of the story, Cyn...’ Lucien murmured softly as he placed his whisky glass carefully, deliberately, down on the coffee table before straightening.

  His deliberation obviously didn’t fool Cyn for a moment, as she now looked across at him warily. ‘I told you—some of it I worked out for myself and the rest... It really isn’t that important, Lucien.’ She gave a dismissive shake of her head.

  ‘Maybe not to you,’ he bit out harshly. ‘I, on the other hand, have no intention of allowing you to continue believing I have ever been involved with a married woman. It goes against every code I’ve ever lived by.’ He drew in a sharp breath. ‘My parents’ marriage ended because my mother left my father for someone else,’ he stated flatly. ‘I would never put another man through the pain my father went through after she left him.’

  Cyn’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise... Did your relationship with Simone happen before she married Felix?’

  Lucien gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It never happened at all!’

  She winced at his vehemence. ‘Then why did Jonathan say that it did...?’

  ‘I can only assume because that’s what Simone told him—probably as a way of piquing his interest.’

  ‘I— But— Why? No, strike that question.’ Cyn gave an impatiently disgusted shake of her head. ‘I’ve met Simone Carew a few times over the past few days and she’s a very silly, very vain woman. So, yes, I can well believe she’s capable of telling Jonathan something like that just for the kudos. It isn’t enough that she’s married to one of the most influential directors in television—she also had to claim to having had a relationship with the richest and most powerful man in New York!’

  Lucien gave a humourless smile. ‘I knew you would get there in the end!’

  ‘This isn’t the time for your sarcasm, Lucien.’ Cyn glared. ‘And if you knew she was going around telling such lies why didn’t you stop her?’

  ‘Because I didn’t know about it until Miller blurted it out to me a few weeks ago.’ He scowled. ‘And once I did know it didn’t seem particularly important—’

  ‘Simone Carew was going around telling anyone who would listen that the two of you’d had an affair, and it didn’t seem particularly important to you?’ Cyn stared at him incredulously. ‘What about her poor husband?’

  Lucien gave a weary sigh. ‘Felix is thirty years older than Simone and he knew exactly what he was getting into when he married her. As a result, he chooses to look the other way when she has one of her little extra-marital flings.’

  ‘Big of him.’

  ‘Not really.’ Lucien grimaced. ‘He happens to be in love with her. And there are always rumours circulating in New York about everyone—most of them untrue or exaggerations of the truth. So why would I have bothered denying the ones about Simone and me? Have you never heard people say the more you deny something the more likely people are to believe it’s the truth?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have!’

  ‘That’s because you are nothing like anyone else I have ever met,’ Lucien dismissed huskily.

  * * *

  Thia didn’t know what to say in answer to that comment. Didn’t know what to say, full-stop.

  Oh, she believed Lucien when he said he hadn’t ever had an affair with Simone—why wouldn’t she believe him when he had no reason to bother lying to her? It was totally unimportant to Lucien what she believed!

  It did, however, raise the question as to why Lucien had pursued her so determinedly...

  ‘What’s in the box, Lucien?’ Thia deliberately changed the subject as she looked down at the box Lucien had dropped down onto the coffee table when he first entered the suite.

  ‘End of subject?’

  She avoided meeting his exasperated gaze. ‘I can’t see any point in talking about it further. It’s—I apologise if I misjudged you.’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘Obviously I’m not equipped—I don’t understand the behind-the-scenes machinations and silly games of your world.’

  ‘None of that is my world, Cyn. It’s an inevitable part of it, granted, but not something I have ever chosen to involve myself in,’ he assured her softly. ‘As for what’s in the box...why don’t you open it up and see?’

  Thia eyed the box as if it were a bomb about to go off, having no idea what could possibly be inside.

  ‘It’s a replacement for the blouse that was ripped!’ she realised with some relief, her cheeks warming as she recalled exactly how and when her blouse had been ripped. And what had followed.

  She couldn’t think about that now! Wouldn’t think about that now. There would be time enough for thinking about making love with Lucien, of being in love with him, in all the months and years of her life yet to come...

  ‘Open it up, Cyn,’ Lucien encouraged gruffly as he moved to sit down on the sofa beside the coffee table.

  ‘Before I forget—I had your T-shirt laundered today—’

  ‘Will you stop delaying and open the damned box, Cyn?’

  ‘I can do it later,’ she dismissed. ‘You’re obviously on your way out somewhere.’ She gave a pointed look at his evening clothes. ‘I wouldn’t want to delay you any more than I have already—’

  ‘You aren’t delaying me.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘What is so difficult about opening the box, Cyn?’ He barked his impatience with her prevarication.

  Thia worried her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I just—I’m sorry if I’m being less than gracious. I’m just a little out of practice at receiving gifts...’

  * * *

  Lucien’s scowl deepened as he realised the reason for that: Cyn’s parents had died six years ago and she’d admitted to having no other family. And her relationship with Miller obviously hadn’t been of the gift-giving variety—he was a taker, not a giver!

  ‘It isn’t a gift, Cyn,’ Lucien assured softly. ‘I ruined your blouse. I’m simply replacing it.’

  A delicate blush warmed the ivory of her cheeks, emphasising the dark shadows under those cobalt blue eyes. Because Cyn hadn’t slept well the night before?

  Neither had Lucien. His thoughts had chased round and round on themselves as he’d tried to make sense, to use his normal cold logic, to explain and dissect his feelings for Cyn. In the end he had been forced to acknowledge, to accept, that there was no sense or reason to any of it. It just was.

  There was now a dull ache in his chest at the realisation he wanted to shower Cyn with gifts, to give her anyth
ing and everything she had ever wanted or desired. At the same as he knew that her fierce independence would no doubt compel her to throw his generosity back in his face!

  Lucien was totally at a loss to know what to do about this intriguing woman. Was currently following a previously untrodden path—one that had no signs or indications to tell him where to go or what he should do next. Except he knew he wasn’t going to allow her to just walk out of his life tomorrow.

  He took heart from the blush that now coloured her cheeks at the mention of her blouse ripping the night before. ‘I would like to know if you approve of the replacement blouse, Cyn,’ he encouraged gruffly.

  ‘I would love to have been a fly on your office wall during that telephone conversation!’ she teased as she finally moved forward to loosen the lid of the box before removing it completely.

  ‘I went to the store this morning and picked out the blouse myself, Cyn.’

  She gave him a startled look. ‘You did?’

  ‘I did,’ he confirmed gruffly.

  ‘I— But— Why...?’

  He shrugged. ‘I didn’t trust a store assistant to pick out a blouse that was an exact match in colour for your eyes.’

  ‘Oh...’

  ‘Yes...oh...’ Lucien echoed softly as he looked into, held captive, those beautiful cobalt blue eyes. ‘Do you like it?’ he prompted huskily as she folded back the tissue paper and down looked at the blouse he had chosen for her.

  * * *

  Did Thia like it?

  Even if she hadn’t this blouse would have been special to her, because Lucien had picked it out for her personally. As it was, Thia had never seen or touched such a beautiful blouse before. The colour indeed a perfect match for her eyes, and the material softer, silkier, than anything else she had ever owned.

  Tears stung her eyes as she looked up. ‘It’s beautiful, Lucien,’ she breathed softly. ‘Far too expensive, of course. But don’t worry,’ she added as a frown reappeared between his eyes, ‘I’m not going to insult you by refusing to accept it!’

  ‘Good, because it certainly isn’t going back to the store, and it really isn’t my size or colour.’