Noah’s words before his hands were at her waist, tugging her close. He kissed her lightly, just a brief press of his lips against hers. But it was enough. Enough to send sparks through her whole body, to leave her aching and desperate for more.
Wait. He’d just said something. Which meant she had another line.
Somewhere, from the recesses of her memory and an abiding love for the movie version, she found it.
‘Then have my lips the sin that they have took.’
Noah grinned, still holding her against him.
‘Sin from my lips?’ he said. ‘O trespass sweetly urged. Give me my sin again.’
Again? Eloise’s eyes widened but he just kept smiling at her—before dipping her deeply over his arm and lowering his lips to hers.
There was nothing brief about this kiss. Nothing perfunctory. And nothing about it felt like an act.
Her hands tightened on the fabric of Noah’s doublet as he deepened the kiss, teasing her mouth open and driving her wild. Her whole body reacted to the sensation of his lips on hers, tightening and tensing with the need to take things further. If they hadn’t been in public...
A whoop went up from the crowd and reality came crashing in on her. They weren’t just in public. She was on a stage, in front of the Hollywood elite, some of her staff and probably her teenage nemesis. Making out with a famous actor like some girl with a crush.
She tried to pull away but, since Noah was the only thing holding her up, she didn’t get too far. Fortunately, he seemed to sense the change of mood and slowly raised her back to a standing position, only ending the kiss at the last possible moment.
The audience cheered, clapping and whistling, and Eloise knew her face had to be the same colour as her hair.
‘Okay?’ Noah whispered, too soft to be heard over the crowd.
But Eloise couldn’t answer. The only words she could find were Juliet’s.
‘You kiss by the book,’ she declared, and the crowd laughed.
She was glad someone found it funny. Because, as far as Eloise was concerned, that kiss meant only one thing.
She was in big trouble.
* * *
‘You kiss by the book.’
Eloise sounded suitably stunned, but the way she projected the line into the crowd left Noah uncertain. Was she still acting? Or had the kiss affected her the same way it had him?
Because he definitely hadn’t been acting.
Oh, the first kiss, sure. That had just been a joke, almost. He’d slipped the short Romeo and Juliet exchange in while Eloise had been getting changed, partly because it was one of his favourites and partly because it gave him an excuse to kiss her. He’d purposefully kept that first kiss light and relaxed, giving her the freedom to pull back any time she liked, even if it was only an act.
But from the moment his lips had met hers he’d known that wouldn’t be enough. The electricity between them, the way her touch sparked through his body, heating him to boiling point even in the freezing English air...that couldn’t all be pretend, could it? And then, of course, he’d had to know for sure.
So he’d kissed her. Properly.
And his whole world had tilted.
The audience were applauding again, and Noah realised he’d almost forgotten they were there. He hadn’t been playing to the crowd for once, or thinking about how his moves would look on the big screen. The only thing that had been on his mind was the woman in his arms.
Never mind Tessa and her admonitions to behave. Never mind his reputation. Even the role of Marcus hadn’t mattered for the long moments where he’d held Eloise.
He blinked and the spell was broken, and the real world surged back in.
Her final line spoken, Eloise tried to make a dash for the edge of the makeshift stage but he grabbed her hand to keep her with him, his mind churning. When she glared at him, he explained softly, ‘We have to take a bow.’
Her glare didn’t lessen, but she gave a sharp nod and took her place beside him. Hand in hand, they bowed to the assembled audience, who whooped and cheered even louder.
‘What were they serving at those drinks stands?’ Noah asked. Because he was good, he knew that, and Eloise had been fabulous, but this level of enthusiasm still seemed a little over the top. Unless they’d seen the truth behind the kiss—but he doubted that too. This crowd wouldn’t know truth if it kissed them.
‘Spiced apple cider.’ Eloise didn’t look at him as she answered, smiling out at the crowd as they took their second bow.
‘Alcoholic.’
‘Apparently very.’
‘Encore!’ someone in the crowd yelled but Eloise shook her head and, before Noah could stop her, she was across the stage and descending the steps, ready to disappear back into the mass of people filling the Frost Fair. Suddenly Noah was alone on the stage, wondering if her reaction to the kiss meant she was more or less likely to let him do it again.
Because one thing he was very sure of. He wanted to kiss Eloise Miller in a way he hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone for years.
In fact, he wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. Discreetly, of course. But that kiss had proved that Eloise was worth taking the risk.
And, after the way she’d responded to him, she was going to have to come up with a better excuse than I don’t date actors to convince him that she didn’t want exactly the same thing.
ELOISE REFUSED TO dwell on the memory of Noah’s kiss, instead throwing herself into traipsing around the Frost Fair to make sure that everything was going perfectly. Then, when the stallholders started looking irritated at her interference and Laurel assured her that she had everything in hand, Eloise stormed off back to the hotel to get out of her ridiculous costume and into something more appropriate for Melissa’s hen night.
By the time the bride, bridesmaids and other favoured female guests were gathered for games, pink drinks and the wearing of feather boas in the main bar that evening, Eloise could still feel the memory of Noah’s lips against hers.
How was she supposed to think about anything else after a kiss like that? She’d barely managed to focus on her job long enough to check everything was in place for the hen night. And choosing a dress... Well, what did one wear after wearing Juliet’s best frock all afternoon? Eloise’s wardrobe certainly had nothing so fancy. In the end, she’d settled on another navy dress—one of four in her wardrobe. This one, at least, was made of more slippery material than her thick, knitted work one, and it skimmed over her body in a way that suggested that she might actually have some curves under the fabric. Somewhere.
Just in case Noah felt the sudden need to reprise their roles of Romeo and Juliet, she told herself. After all,
