The Chatsfield Short Romances 6-10. Carol Marinelli

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      ‘Right.’ She stared hard at her iPad and read the next lame question. ‘Did you enjoy making this film?’

      ‘I did.’

      ‘What made you choose it?’ And do you really not recognise me as the girl you kissed so sweetly at senior prom and then humiliated so spectacularly afterwards?

      He shrugged easily. ‘The script. The director. The physicality of the movie.’

      No, he did not and even though she told herself not to get angry her blood sang with it.

      ‘Right,’ she said again, not caring a wit about his answers. ‘And the physicality of the film is important, is it?’

      He tilted his head a little at her asinine question and looked like he was about to say something before changing his mind. ‘Sometimes. I’m a physical guy, I guess. But I would say that’s less important than the storyline.’

      ‘Oh yes, the storyline.’ She sniffed. ‘Hardly ground-breaking stuff though was it? I mean, don’t you think it reinforces the old male/female paradigms?’

      Chloe was hoping to score a point with that one but he gave her another trademark smile. ‘Depends which paradigm you’re talking about?’

      Oh, he knew which one, damn him, and he looked like he was enjoying her grilling rather than being annoyed by it. ‘Well you rescue the heroine from the bad guys and save the day. Tell me, was it a stretch to play the hero?’ Considering it’s not part of your genetic makeup?

      Chloe heard a muffled cough from Miss LA behind her and wondered for a horrible moment if she had said that last bit out loud. It was one thing to want to insult him and quite another to do it while she was on the clock.

      ‘I don’t think there’s any character that isn’t without his faults. Even a hero, at times.’ His eyes seemed to bore into hers and then he smiled. ‘And for a while in the film Bethany’s character thought I was the bad guy and she kicked my butt. Something you might have enjoyed.’

      Not half as much as she would have if it had been real. ‘True, but then you once again ended up on top.’

      His smile was lethally charismatic and Chloe couldn’t have looked away to save herself. ‘I don’t think she was too unhappy about that.’

       What female would be?

      ‘In real life or in the movie?’ Chloe could have groaned as the crass question left her lips. So much for modelling herself on Veronica Guerin. But now that it was out there she had little choice but to lift her chin and wear it.

      She noticed his thick, dark lashes come down over his mesmerising green eyes and thought that, if anything, the question had seemed to score a hit of some sort. Go her.

      ***

      Chloe’s pointy little question about his co-star made Liam frown and usually he wouldn’t even bother responding to one of that nature. Romances between actors sold magazines. He knew it and so did the actresses he worked with but it didn’t mean they had to add fodder to it.

      For some reason Chloe’s question bothered him and he realised with a flash of insight that it was because he didn’t want her to think poorly of him. He didn’t want her thinking he was just a pretty face who couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag, as his father did. He also didn’t want her thinking that he was some sort of player who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

      Since starting in this business he’d had more offers from women than stars in the sky and he could count on one hand – okay, maybe two– the number of times he’d given into those. The fact was his career meant more to him than a quick bout of sexual release with women who would spread their legs for most any movie star they came across. ‘That’s like asking me if I really put my sword through the antagonist’s heart,’ he countered.

      But Chloe was no longer the mouse she had been in high school. ‘Hardly.’ She stared him down and he wondered if she still wore those cute round glasses she used to. ‘Stabbing is illegal. Kissing isn’t.’

      ‘No, it’s not,’ he murmured. He found his eyes drawn to her throat as she swallowed. Hell, his eyes were drawn to every part of her and he really needed to get some control over his libido. He didn’t really want Chloe Tyler in that way, did he?

      ‘Bethany Lord and I were acting,’ he assured her. ‘If you thought the chemistry between us looked real then we did our jobs well.’ Which was the truth. Bethany had been great to work with but there had been nothing even slightly romantic between them.

      Intrigued about what Chloe might say next Liam was disappointed when his PA interrupted again.

      ‘Time’s up, Ms Lane.’

      ***

      And thank heavens for that. Now she could get the hell out of there and maybe go and order a gin and tonic from the main bar off the hotel foyer. Maybe she’d order three. And maybe she’d ask the bartender to hold the tonic on the first two.

      ‘Thank you, Mr Hunter.’ She stuck her hand out automatically and then wished she hadn’t because Liam took it and the warmth of his strong grip engulfed her.

      Once again her heartbeat sped up and she couldn’t tear her eyes from their joined hands, his palm warm and slightly rough against her own. A tingling sensation shot along her nerve endings and caused a shiver to snake down her spine. Unfortunately he saw it. And his slow grin said that he took it for what it was. Pure sexual awareness.

      When she tried to surreptitiously pull her hand free Liam gripped it tighter. ‘I’m having a party in my room later on tonight. Come.’

      He ran the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand and the meaning behind his touch couldn’t have been clearer. To say that it shocked her would be a gross understatement.

       Was it possible that Liam Hunter was attracted to her?

      No. Not her per se – but possibly to this new version of her. He was interested in the well-groomed woman with the red lipstick and, okay, the short flirty skirt. He didn’t want the dorky country girl she suddenly realised that she still was deep down inside. The girl who preferred hot chocolate to coffee and still wore fluffy animal slippers in the privacy of her own home. The girl who still struggled with her hair on a daily basis and who wasn’t quite as over the boy she had fallen in love with as she would like to think she was.

      The boy who was now a man and who was asking her to come to his room to have sex with him, if she was not mistaken, as if he was ordering a burger at a drive thru. And no doubt she would mean just as much to him afterwards.

      Chloe wasn’t sure what disgusted her the most. The fact that he didn’t recognise her, the fact that he was gazing at her with the confidence of a natural born lothario, or the fact that she was so tempted to say yes she could feel the word burning on the tip of her tongue.

      And maybe she should, she thought with a spurt of defiance; her earlier fantasy to show him what he had missed out on returning in a rush. Maybe she should go to his stupid party and completely embarrass him when she announced who she really was. That would wipe that lazy, confident expression from his privileged and way too handsome face. He’d probably be appalled that he’d

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