on the part he wanted so much. Because he couldn’t promise her for ever, couldn’t ask her to act out a sham relationship. Couldn’t break her heart a few months down the line when she realised that what she saw really was all he had to give—there was nothing deeper.
He couldn’t hurt her any more than he had to. And the only way through this with minimum casualties was to lessen the impact of what had happened.
Which meant pretending it was nothing at all.
He couldn’t do it—couldn’t pretend what he and Eloise had was nothing. It might not be everything but it was something. He couldn’t deny Eloise that way, not after everything she’d done for him.
Except he was doing this for her. So he had to.
Maybe he couldn’t. But Noah Cross, celebrity, notorious womaniser and charmer could.
It took only a second to switch on the character—the one he’d been playing since the day Sally died. It was so familiar that, until this week, he might even have said it was the real him.
But it wasn’t. He knew that now. He’d found the person he was underneath all that scar tissue. He just wasn’t sure if he’d ever let him out again, except for when he was in character.
‘What is there to say?’ he said with a shrug and a crooked smile. ‘You know how it is at weddings. All that romance in the air. A fling always makes it a little more entertaining, right?’ He cringed inside as he remembered saying the same thing to Eloise at the welcome drinks. Could that really have only been two days ago?
‘So, it’s nothing serious is what you’re saying,’ Sara pressed.
Noah forced himself to laugh, to sound as light-hearted and as uncaring as he should be about the situation, trying not to think what Stefan would think. ‘Sara, I’d think you—and the rest of the world—know me a little better than that by now.’
‘So, just business as usual for Noah Cross then,’ Sara said. ‘Another wedding, another woman.’
‘Basically.’ This felt so wrong. Even though he was only telling the truth, saying what he and Eloise had agreed should be the case, he could tell by the creeping sense of shame filling him that something had changed.
Eloise wasn’t just a fling. Wasn’t just another woman.
Except she had to be. And he needed to rebuild his walls to keep her behind them before he left.
Especially if he wanted to save her from a mauling in the media and Melissa’s wrath.
‘She’s nothing to me,’ he lied, ‘and I’m nothing to her. Just a spot of fun. Now, if you’ll excuse me...’ He started to move towards the elevators, hoping to catch up with Eloise, but Melissa grabbed his arm and dragged him around the other way.
‘Absolutely! We’ve got a rehearsal dinner to finish, remember, best man?’
‘Right.’ Noah smiled weakly and went back to work.
Eloise would have to wait.
* * *
Another night with no sleep, Eloise thought as the sun peeked over the horizon the next morning, hazy behind the grey winter clouds. And this time for far less satisfaction than the night before.
She hadn’t had the courage to go back to the rehearsal dinner, although she suspected Noah had. She’d heard him banging on her door around midnight, asking her to let him in, but she’d ignored him. Maybe he’d thought she was asleep, or angry, or out. She didn’t care. Eventually he’d grown tired and left her in peace.
Not that it had been very peaceful.
She’d stripped off that wretched dress and curled up in her warmest, softest pyjamas, make-up removed and hair brushed out. She’d cocooned herself in her duvet and tried to forget, tried to sleep. But every time she closed her eyes all she could see was that camera flash and Melissa’s arched eyebrows.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she have put herself in a position to let Melissa humiliate her all over again? Melissa always had to be the queen bee, had to have the highest profile. It was her wedding. Of course she was going to obsess about it being all about her. And, yes, she had Riley—hot up-and-coming star. But in Melissa’s world Noah was a bigger catch, one who’d eluded capture by every woman in Hollywood. Of course she was going to freak out about Eloise—sad, quiet little Eloise—sleeping with him. At her own wedding.
She was an idiot. All she’d needed to do was keep the lid on her libido until the wedding was over. How hard would that have been?
Eloise sighed. Impossible, apparently.
Eventually, she’d given up on sleep and logged onto the Internet on her tablet, refreshing Sara’s magazine pages until the exclusive she’d known was coming flashed up on the screen at last.
There she was. Eyes wide from the camera flash, her hand wrapped over her chest covering her nudity. Noah lay underneath her on the floor, then in later photos stood in front of her, looking mussed but gorgeous. Charmingly contrite having been caught, his shirt open a little too far, his hair ruffled beyond the usual fashionable mess. He could have stepped out of an advert for aftershave, not been caught falling out of a cupboard moments before having sex.
Whereas she... There was no doubt what she’d been doing. She looked exactly the type of girl Melissa had always told people she was.
Why could men get away with that sort of behaviour and women couldn’t?
Bracing herself, Eloise scanned down through all the photos to the text underneath.
Since half of Hollywood has decamped to England for the wedding of Melissa Sommers and Riley Black, we can report exclusively from Morwen Hall on all the wedding high jinks! Starting with this gem from the rehearsal dinner—best man Noah Cross has found some entertainment to make the week even more fun than Melissa and Riley planned: seducing the maid of honour!
It went on to detail who she was, how she knew Melissa and why she’d stepped in at the last minute.
Then it got to what really mattered.
So could this be true love for eternal bachelor Noah? Apparently not.
He said, ‘She’s nothing to me, and I’m nothing to her. You know how it is at weddings... A fling always makes it a little more entertaining.’
Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer to see Noah walk down the aisle himself!
Eloise threw her tablet down onto the covers and wished she’d never looked.
Of course he’d said that. He’d never suggested anything else—in fact he’d said practically the same thing to her at the welcome drinks. She’d known what she was getting into. Like he’d told her the night before—he never gave his women false expectations, never fell for them, and never ever told them he loved them.
He played fair. It was only her heart that had cheated.
She’d been so sure that she could play the same game he did, that it wasn’t the same as her mother’s games if no one mentioned love. But, in the end, she’d
