and I are just so delighted to welcome you all here to celebrate our wedding.’ Melissa beamed around the room and Riley stepped out of her shadow, looking awkward in a dinner jacket, and gave a little wave. ‘I hope you all have just the best time—’ She cut off abruptly, her smile replaced by a sudden scowl.
Eloise tried to figure out what had changed, and followed Melissa’s gaze to...oh, dear.
Dan had his arm around Laurel and, from where Eloise stood, she could see him staring up at Melissa, a challenge in his eyes.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Melissa asked, her hands on her hips.
‘Guess we weren’t the only ones who didn’t know about Laurel and Dan,’ Noah murmured as Eloise headed into the fray to smooth over the situation.
Playtime was over.
* * *
Noah sighed, putting the script to one side again, and wished that the curtains of the four-poster bed didn’t feel as if they were closing in. He had shut them to try and give himself a cosy cocoon in which to read through the script for Eight Days After again, looking for those deeper resonances he knew he’d need to hit to get the part. But instead he just felt trapped.
Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe this wasn’t the part for him. He was a good actor, he knew that. But this role...maybe it cut a little too close to home.
He thought back over his conversation with Eloise. Now there was a woman who believed in deep and meaningful. He almost wished he could just get her to explain it to him, so he could fake it well enough to get the part without ever actually having to feel it himself. If there was a woman in the world who could do it, Noah would place money on it being Eloise. There was something about her eyes, her expressions. The way everything she felt or thought was telegraphed out to her audience in her face. He could almost see the thoughts floating across her eyes, like subtitles on a foreign movie.
She didn’t think much of him—that was certain. Which was a shame, given his body’s automatic reaction whenever she was near—but also probably just as well, under the circumstances.
No, it was just as well they’d established the ‘no fling’ ground rules. Not only was he not in the market for it right now, but she was clearly out for love, marriage, the whole shebang. And he most definitely wasn’t. Noah wasn’t the sort of guy who’d let a girl carry those sorts of hopes into bed with her, even if it was the only way to get her there. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t worth it. He was always very clear about what he was willing to offer.
And he’d only ever offered more once. Only to have it all taken away twenty-four hours later.
Suddenly restless, Noah pushed the curtains aside and jumped off the bed, heading for the minibar.
He shouldn’t have mentioned Sally to Eloise. Oh, he might not have said her name, might not have gone into detail, but Eloise was the sort of woman who asked questions. She’d want to know more and, given how much time they were likely to be spending together over the next few days, she’d try her hardest to find out. Noah foresaw a lot of time spent sidestepping questions in his future. Good job he’d had all that fancy media training. Avoiding Eloise’s questions would be as hard as any interview he’d ever sat.
He supposed he’d started it. He’d wanted to play, wanted to pick at her secrets and truths. It was only fair she got to do the same in return.
Noah poured a healthy measure of whisky into one of the glass tumblers on top of the well-stocked refrigerator, then bypassed the sofa to head back to the bed, leaving the curtains open this time. He took a sip, savouring the burn of the alcohol in his throat. This was what he needed to focus on—the here and now, the current moment. Not a woman seven years dead, or the future he had lost that day.
Eloise might think that all actors were only in it for the cheap thrill, the quick, meaningless satisfaction. But she was wrong. He’d wanted more once—and he’d had it too.
Just not for very long.
He’d spent his whole teenage years in love with one woman. And when she finally realised she might feel the same...he’d let her down, just when she’d needed him most.
He knew how it felt to have his heart ripped from his chest, and he wasn’t about to go seeking that again.
He took another gulp of whisky. He didn’t need the memories tonight. He needed to focus on the script and how to fake those deeper emotions he’d locked away inside the day Sally died. Because he had no intention of ever feeling them again.
IT HADN’T TAKEN much to convince Melissa that making a scene about her half-sister and brother-in-law-to-be getting together at her own wedding wasn’t the best PR plan she’d ever had, especially with the reporter covering the wedding watching. Melissa had looked stormy for a moment, then reverted to the sweetness and light actress the rest of the room—those who didn’t actually know her very well—were expecting. It was almost disconcerting to see the shift, Eloise thought.
Still, she hadn’t felt confident leaving Melissa alone with Laurel until the crowd of guests had mostly departed to their beds. Noah had called it quits some time earlier, whispering a goodnight in her ear as he left.
Eloise had spent more of the night remembering the feel of his lips so close to her than she would ever admit to him. By the time morning rolled around, she hadn’t had nearly as much sleep as she’d hoped to get.
Yawning, she stretched and reached for her smartphone, sitting on her bedside table. They had another big day ahead of them—especially with the Frost Fair that afternoon. Melissa had wanted something wintry, magical and British for her guests to enjoy as a pre-wedding event. Eloise and Laurel had come up with the idea of a traditional Frost Fair, like they used to hold on the frozen River Thames back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. If nothing else, it would provide quite a spectacle, Eloise was sure.
Of course, first she had to get through a dress fitting with Melissa.
Pressing the screen on her phone, Eloise called Laurel to check on her plans for the day, and quickly checked in with her deputy about anything that might come up while she was being fitted for her maid of honour dress. Laurel, Eloise couldn’t help but note, sounded far grumpier than Eloise would if she’d spent the night with a guy as gorgeous as Dan. She hoped that Melissa’s reaction the night before hadn’t caused problems between the two of them. Laurel deserved a nice guy.
Eventually, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Showered and dressed in a knitted navy dress and knee boots, Eloise headed down to the conference room they’d put aside for the final dress fittings that morning. Melissa was already there, holding court over the two other bridesmaids while a harried-looking woman unpacked pins and measuring tapes and dress bags.
‘And here’s the replacement maid of honour,’ Melissa said, looking up as Eloise entered the room. ‘I hope you didn’t eat too many of the canapés last night, Eloise, or you’ll never fit into the dress!’ The bridesmaids both laughed, and Eloise bit her tongue to keep from responding. Apparently Melissa had already forgotten her comments about Cassidy, the previous maid of honour, putting on weight for a part. She’d probably remember in time to make another joke at Eloise’s expense, once she had the dress on.
She really
