The Price of Fame. Anne Oliver
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‘Oh, no. That’s very generous but I can’t accept.’ It just wouldn’t be right. ‘I’ll wait in the terminal.’
He frowned towards the lobby’s entrance. ‘What if our friend turns up again? The jerk’s persistent enough. And sneaky enough.’
Charlotte’s skin crawled and she couldn’t help glancing towards the crowded entrance. ‘Then I’ll just come clean with him and maybe he’ll leave me alone. About that … I should probably explain …’
‘But you don’t want to. And that’s okay, I don’t need to know your business. Here’s what we’ll do.’ He curled his hands around her upper arms. ‘We’ll check into the room together, then I’ll park my stuff and leave you to it. Okay?’
There was an openness and honesty in those dark eyes. So attractive, so alluring. And something she hadn’t seen since that last time her father had kissed her goodbye and called her his princess. Right before her family had climbed aboard the doomed helicopter …
Her father had been the one man she’d always been able to count on. To trust. Somehow she imagined Dad would approve of Nic. That he’d tell her she could trust him too.
She nodded once, but for the life of her she couldn’t make her voice work.
‘Right, then, that’s settled.’ He took charge of her bag and they walked towards the elevators.
They didn’t speak in the crowded lift. Nor as they walked down the dim, thickly silent corridor to their room. Nic swiped his card in the slot, motioned her through, then followed with their hand luggage.
The clouds had rolled away, leaving a hard blue sky. Blinding late afternoon sunshine flooded in, reflecting off the distant tarmac where scores of stranded aircraft waited for the ash cloud to lift. Her temples throbbed with the light’s intensity and the memory of a dull headache from earlier echoed at the back of her skull. She drew the heavy drapes closed. And with the imprint of their kiss still hot on her lips, she realised immediately how her action might be misconstrued.
The room was plunged into semi-darkness and the intimacy wasn’t lost on Nic. Shadows softened Charlotte’s features but he could see the puckered brow, the tense stance as her fingers twisted on the edge of the curtain. She wasn’t comfortable with the situation.
Nor was he, but for entirely different reasons. He’d been in a painful state of arousal since he’d discovered she tasted even more luscious than he’d imagined—and he’d imagined quite a lot. He indicated the closed drapes. ‘Headache still bothering you? Do you want to take a nap?’ Do you want me to join you?
‘No to both, but thank you.’ Something flashed across her eyes, as if she shared his let’s-get-naked thoughts. But maybe her tension wasn’t the anticipation he hoped for because she only said, ‘I might watch TV awhile. If that’s okay with you?’
‘Fine. Make yourself comfortable. I’m going for a run.’
Without looking at her, he yanked a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes out of his backpack and went to the bathroom to change. He needed to release some of his own tension and a dose of cold Melbourne air would cool his blood. The colder the better.
He splashed water on his face and checked himself out in the mirror. A smear of her lip gloss glistened on his lips. He smiled at his reflection as he rubbed it away. Now he knew. Ms Neat and Conservative on the outside wasn’t so conservative on the inside. Perhaps they could—
He shook the images away, ran his fingers through his hair and glared at himself. He’d offered her refuge. And that changed the rules. It was entirely her call if she wanted to take it further. Still … He shook his head and turned away from the mirror. Absolutely not.
He considered taking a cold shower but decided against it. Getting naked and knowing she was probably spread out on that bed watching TV wasn’t going to do him any favours.
When he returned from the bathroom, she was standing right where he’d left her. The big screen was still blank, the room was still silent. But the atmosphere had changed. Her fragrance and the scent of her skin smelled sharper, warmer. Damper. She must have turned up the thermostat on the air conditioning because it felt a damn sight hotter in here than it had moments ago.
Her eyes skimmed down his body and he felt as though a thousand fiery pinpricks had blistered every square centimetre of skin.
Then she snatched up the TV remote. Put it down. Drew in a sharp breath as if she’d come to a decision and was wondering whether to let him in on it.
‘Everything all right?’
‘Look, I don’t want to kick you out of your room. Please. Stay. I’m fine with it.’ Her gaze shifted to the double bed, then snapped back to him and he swore the air around them crackled. ‘In fact, I’d feel a lot better if you stayed.’
Yeah? He smiled—so would he. ‘Okay …’ That glint in her eyes … Hot. Wary too, but definitely hot. His whole body tightened, stiffened, and a bead of sweat trickled down his back. In a deliberately casual move, he laid his discarded clothes on the back of the office chair at the desk. ‘So what’s your real name? Or aren’t we going to get into all that?’
‘I told you, it’s Charlotte.’ She slid her palms down her skirt as if they were sticky. ‘But no surnames, no talking about ourselves and swapping life histories. We’ll be gone tomorrow.’
His thoughts precisely. So … she wanted to play … Nothing personal, nothing complicated. One night. This had to be his lucky day. The surprise of it, and of her, was like a mid-winter’s heatwave. ‘Fine by me.’
‘I’m going to take a shower now,’ she said, suddenly and randomly, as if plucking the words from the increasingly sultry atmosphere. ‘Alone.’ She moved to her bag, unzipped it, then tossed him an I-mean-it look over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you shortly.’
‘Right.’ So she wanted time to get ready; he didn’t mind waiting. ‘I’m off for that run, then. When I get back …’ at the door, he looked her over the way she’d looked at him—though he might have lingered a tad longer ‘… we’ll see how we get along.’
He took the stairs down to the lobby two at a time. He saw Kerry amidst the carnage, sticking a sign on the door advising alternative accommodation, and stopped.
‘Is your friend okay?’ she said, giving him a quick glance as she smoothed the sign in place.
‘She is.’
She shook her head on her way back to the desk. ‘And by that glazed look, I’m guessing the drinks invite’s off the board now. How do you do it, Nic? You’re like honey to a bee.’
‘My magnetic personality, babe. And it was a mutual decision to share the room, under the circumstances.’
‘Of course it was,’ she said, amused. ‘You’re obviously her hero. I’d hate you on behalf of all women if I didn’t know you better.’ She waved him off. ‘Now go away. I’m too busy and too married to be sidetracked by a charmer like you.’