Stand-In Star (16 page)

She gulped in air, knowing she’d need an overdose of oxygen if her assumptions were correct and Nate was naked underneath all those bubbles.

“I thought you’d never get here,” he said, startling her, but still not turning his head. “Well, are you coming in or not?”

“I’m not really dressed for it.”

He chuckled. “It generally pays not to dress up for water. Your bra and panties will do the trick. If you feel you need them.”

That would be the bra that had shrunk two sizes at his words.

“Okay, then. I’m coming.” Quickly, she pulled her top over her head and tugged off her jeans. For a fleeting moment she wondered if anyone could see them, but despite having a fabulous view, his deck was skillfully kept private by an abundance of Cypress trees.

He looked up as she stepped up beside him. She dipped in a toe and he raised a brow and smiled. Her heart glowed at his obvious admiration. He stood then, and her heart stopped. He
was
totally naked.

“You been here awhile?” she asked, aiming to distract her dirty thoughts as he helped her into the blissfully warm water. Bubbles buzzed against her skin, but they were nothing compared to the sensations running rampant underneath. He pulled her toward him and surprised her with a quick kiss on the forehead.

“It feels like I’ve been waiting forever. Come on, sit.”

Is that it?
She tried not to pout.

He stepped back slightly and, more than a tad disappointed, she sunk onto the underwater bench that circled the large spa. She glanced out into the horizon, noticing a few stragglers still playing golf on the course adjacent to his house. When she turned back, he was smiling and holding out a glass of something obviously cold and bubbly.

First instinct was to turn him down, but then she recalled how she’d already splendidly crossed the line with him, so really, what harm could a little drink do? Her fingers curled around the icy stem, brushing against his hand as they did so. She was about to take a sip when she realized he only had orange juice in his glass.

She halted the glass halfway to her lips. “Aren’t you having any?”

He shook his head and took a sip of OJ. “I don’t drink.”

She rested her glass on the edge of the tub and frowned. “Ever?” Why hadn’t she noticed this? When she looked back, he’d never consumed an alcoholic beverage in her company, but she’d been too self-obsessed to notice.

“Ever.” His stare met hers head on.

Did he want her to pry? She opened her mouth to ask a question, knowing he’d cut her off with kisses or other delicious distractions if he wasn’t willing to talk about it, but he spoke first.

“Tell me about the stupid things you’ve done when you’ve been drunk?”

“We’re not talking about me.” She flushed at the embarrassing memories.

“Go with me on this one.”

She sighed, but after everything they’d shared, surely she could tell him this. “Okay, in high school, I was going out with this boy. We’d been together for a couple of months and we went to this party. I had my first taste of alcohol. Something green and very, very good. I only had about a glass and a half and I got wasted. I ended up kissing the wrong guy, thinking he was my boyfriend.”

He burst out laughing, spilling a few drops of orange juice into the water.

“It wasn’t funny.” She tried to fight the smirk. “My real boyfriend didn’t believe it was a mistake.”

“You hussy,” he said.

She splashed water at him. He reached out and grabbed both her wrists, halting her endeavors before drawing her right up close to him and pulling her onto his lap.

“Is that the worst?”

She shook her head, her mouth suddenly dry. How was she supposed to construct a coherent sentence with him this near? This naked?

“Tell me the worst.”

Twisting hair around her finger, she confessed to drinking at a Christmas work party and telling her boss what she really thought of him. And then losing her job in the bargain.

“Luckily it was only a summer job, while I was on holidays from university, but you see, where alcohol is concerned, I can’t be trusted. It doesn’t take much at all for me to lose all my inhibitions. All my sense.”

Grinning, he scooped the champagne flute up from the side of the tub and held it up to her lips. “In that case.”

“No way.” She shook her head and pushed the glass away. “You’re not getting off the hook that easy. Why don’t
you
drink?”

He sighed. “I’m not even going to be able to distract you with hot kisses, am I?”

She crossed her arms and shook her head, although there were butterflies somersaulting in her stomach at his words, and inwardly she hoped the hot kisses would still be on offer after he’d shared. “I’ve told you my story.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” he said, quickly as if he wanted to get that off the table. “But as you know I’ve lived with someone who is and I know what it can do. Not only embarrassing things like what happened to you but serious things. Near fatal things. My father almost killed my mother on a bender.”

She couldn’t contain her gasp, her hand rushing to cover her mouth. “What happened?”

“You know how you asked if he ever found out about the camera?”

She nodded.

“He confronted me one night in front of Mom and the girls. He demanded I give him the camera back and all the money I’d made with it. I’d bought a better camera by then, so I didn’t care but I refused to give him money so he could drink and gamble it away. That money was saving us—Mom, me and the girls—from a life in hell, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin that.

“He struck out at me and Mom stood up to him for the first time ever, shouting for him to leave me alone. He turned his attentions on her, worse than he ever had before. I tried to intervene but he knocked me to the ground. Out cold. When I came to, mom was unconscious also. My sisters had dialed 911 and our father was long gone. None of us have seen him since. But mom almost died that night. I had to look after my sisters for months while she recovered.”

“Oh God.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s the worst of alcohol. It can take over your life and ruin the people around you as well.”

“So you’ve never had a drink, then?”

He raised a brow. “’Course I have. I experimented in my teens. In fact I got so plastered once that I fell asleep in an alley and didn’t go home to the girls. Bec collapsed while I was out and was rushed to hospital. Once again, I wasn’t there when they needed me most and it was because of the alcohol. I don’t need it in my life.”

She respected his decision. “I understand, but it must be hard in your line of work sometimes. When everyone else is out having fun.”

He snuck his hand up her back, drew her in ever closer to him and then whispered suggestively right into her ear, “You don’t need alcohol to have fun.”

Her breathing faltered as his hand landed, under the water, on her thigh. He began a sneaky crawl upward.

“I know that,” she managed, despite her mouth being dry and her brain scrambled with lust. Although having some last night had led to an abundance of fun for her.

He continued. “And I’m not the type of person that needs to follow suit.” He cupped her chin with one hand and angled her face so she had no choice but to stare into his dangerous and delicious eyes. “There are lots of things other people want and do that I’ve decided against. You should know that.”

She thought he knew what she was getting at but still… “Like what?”

“Like commitment.”

She nodded and shrugged one shoulder as if she didn’t give two hoots about his views on the C-word. She shouldn’t.
She didn’t
. “Your choice. I should probably follow suit. Lord knows it hasn’t done anything for me so far,” she said, attempting light. She itched to reach out and take a sip of the champagne, to feel the coolness of the bubbles against her tongue, but after his admission it didn’t seem right. Perhaps she’d just taste him instead.

She licked her lips and leaned even closer so her nipples brushed his chest, standing erect despite the material of her bra as protection.

He groaned at the connection. “I’m not good for people. I failed Bec. I failed to keep Dad from laying into Mom and I failed Daisy. My lifestyle now means I won’t fail anyone else.”

Sadness filled her heart for him. Although she’d failed first time round with Ian, she hoped one day she’d have the guts to try again. “I can’t see how you failed Bec. She’s a fabulous, well-rounded person.”

“You don’t know everything about her,” he said dryly.

“Fair enough.” From the tone of his voice, it didn’t sound like he was willing to go there. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself asking unwanted questions. Instead, she took his hand, squeezed it gently and then lifted it up to cup her breast. “You were a child when your dad hurt your mum. And nothing about Daisy’s death was your fault.”

He stroked one thumb across her nipple. Her whole body ignited with need.

“Maybe not,” he said, somehow staying focused on the conversation despite what was heating up between them. “But she was out at a party I refused to go to and the jerk that drove her home wasn’t careful enough. She got as close to me as anybody in the last few years and look what happened.”

“I’m close to you now.” She placed a delicate kiss on his jaw line to prove her point. “Should I be worried?”

“You’re leaving in twenty-four hours, but any closer than this wouldn’t be wise.”

With those words, he pressed his lips against her and kissed her hard. She tried to heed his warning, tried to kiss him back without thinking beyond tomorrow, without wanting more from him than he could give.

But as her tongue joined the action, she already she knew she was skating treacherously close to the edge of a very high cliff. And where there were great heights, there were also long drops to fall.

Chapter Fifteen

Nate could hardly believe Holly had only been here one week. Seemed like much longer, and yet the time had also gone by far too quickly. The sun shone in through the gaps in his bedroom curtains, signaling the day had dawned. Hours ago in fact, but they’d both been too deep in sex-induced slumber to notice.

The day of the Awards.

Holly’s last full day in Hollywood. Her last night in his bed.

He ignored the twinge in his chest at the thought. He’d had great sex before and he’d get it again, just not with the woman lying peacefully beside him. Not after tonight anyway. As a rule, he generally leaped out of bed the moment he got up, went for a run or a swim, ate a healthy breakfast and then headed straight for the studio or the school or the shelter. Today he couldn’t even recall if he had anything scheduled before tonight. His head was a blur. All he was able to focus on were thoughts of Holly.

Perhaps if he got up and stopped staring at her, he’d be able to think straight. But that was easier said than done. He propped his head up with his hand and succumbed to the urge to look. Just for another couple of moments. The sheet covered everything below her neck, but he had all that imprinted in his memory, no need for imagination. It was her face and her hair he focused on. Although she usually tamed her hair into a ponytail, he liked it falling freely over her shoulders. He liked it even better all mussed up over his pillow. He liked the vibrancy of its copper color and how it contrasted so perfectly against her pale, smooth skin.

She moaned a little and lifted her hand to rub her cheek. Seconds later her eyes blinked open. She seemed almost as surprised to find herself in his bed as she had been the day before. No way did he want her starting to doubt things now.

Luckily, he knew of a cure.

“Morning sleepy-head,” he said, leaning over and kissing her forehead, skimming his hands through her wild hair.

“Is it?” she sounded like she was still on Cloud Nine and when her hands crept around his back to draw him nearer to her, this guess was confirmed.

The aching tug of desire reared up within him.

He grinned and moved his head lower to kiss the tip of her nose. She lifted her head and when she met his lips with hers, he could feel her smiling.

“Yes, it is,” he said, taking a quick breath, “and a very good morning at that.”

Their lips met again. Even after a good nine hours sleep, she tasted more delicious than anything. He could feast on her all day.

Totally giving over to his kiss, she ran her tongue along his lips, explored the insides of his mouth, wriggled tantalizingly beneath him. Her smile grew wider beneath his lips as she felt the push of his erection against her thigh. With both of them naked, it would be so easy to thrust inside her and give and take what they both needed. But something stopped him and it wasn’t only the need to find a condom.

He wanted to savor this moment. To take his time and really take her to the edge. Although he had no doubt culminating this now would be amazing, he wanted to make sure she experienced every pleasure first and he knew when she did, his climax would be even more intense. Totally worth the wait.

He skimmed his hands down her body, relishing the feel of each and every curve, relishing the sounds she made as he caressed her responsive nipples, her beautiful belly, the delicate skin between her thighs.

“Nate.”

He looked up at her words, did a double take at what looked like moisture in her eyes. And then she spoke again.

“You’re killing me. I’m coiled up inside so tight that I think I’ll explode any second. It’s never been like this before.”

The male in him screamed victorious at the news that he’d made her feel things no other man had ever managed. His conscience prodded him that this wasn’t a good thing. But she felt so damn good squirming in need beneath him that he told his conscience to go to hell.

He smiled at her and then took his mouth where his hands had been only seconds before. He started with her knees, trailing circles over her skin, tickling with his hands at the back. Her legs trembled beneath his touch. Heat radiated off her, urging him on. As if he needed any encouragement.

Something inside him rumbled but it wasn’t hunger for breakfast, it was hunger for Holly. He pushed her thighs apart and kissed his way from one knee up toward her curls, which happened to be as beautiful and copper as the hair on her head. Her hands landed on the back of his head, pressing him forward as she groaned. A smile that almost hurt his mouth erupted as he pressed his face between her legs.

And then he licked, and sucked, and nibbled, tasted until she was panting and squirming and as responsive as putty in his hands. With each shudder against his tongue, with each cry from above, his arousal grew harder, so hard it almost hurt. But she hadn’t screamed yet and he wanted to hear his name hollered from her husky throat.

The hands in his hair gripped hard. Her whole body rocked beneath him. He stopped breathing as he listened for her response. He delved deeper and upped his intensity. Focusing only on her. Waiting.

And then it came. His name, oh so sweetly, from her lips like a cry from the heavens above. If someone made chocolate into music this would be how it sounded. “Nate. Oh Nate.”

He could literally punch the air in victory if he wasn’t about to explode in need himself.

“Condom,” she all but breathed as her body went limp beneath him.

“I’m on it,” he said, leaning over her to reach the stash in his bedside drawer.

“Let me.” She ripped the tiny foil packet from his fingers and tore it open with her teeth. He puffed out air at the beauty of this simple, frantic action and breathed in ecstasy as she slid it onto him.

And then she tugged him on top of her. It didn’t take much effort on her part because he was eager and ready. She smiled as he eased down on top of her, closed her eyes briefly and then looked into his eyes again. He moved, slowly at first, building up in intensity until she was echoing his every move and making beguiling sounds of pleasure. He met her gaze, like he’d never met anyone’s during sex before, and when they came, it was together, staring deep into each other’s souls.

What he saw, what he felt terrified him. It scared him because he wanted more of it and wasn’t sure another round of hot, sweaty sex or even a hundred rounds would quench the want—no, the need—he suffered when he was with her.

Thank God she was leaving tomorrow.

Silence hung between them for long moments. And the first word she spoke echoed his own thoughts. Sort of.

“Wow.” She moved slightly beneath him and yet her grip remained strong on his shoulders. “I don’t know whether I should be thanking you, or you me.”

He laughed at that, tried to chuckle away the tightness in his throat.

“Either way,” she continued, “I really must be getting up and showered. I have that beauty crew landing again very soon for the final layer.”

She tried to wriggle out from under him. He didn’t help her mission, but ran one hand through her hair again and smiled. “I need to shower too. Doesn’t make sense to waste water. Let me help you.”

He saw her chest rise as she sucked in air. She bit her lip and grinned a little. “As tempting as that sounds, I really need to get organized, so I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He felt a childish pout coming on but covered it with a shrug and an easy-come-easy-go smile. “Fair enough. Don’t let me get in the way of a woman and beauty.” He rolled over, taking the sheet with him.

Reading him like a book, she leaned over and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Don’t pout. I’ll see you tonight.”

With those words, she slipped out of his bed, tugged the sheet right off him in exactly the same manner of the first morning and wrapped it right around her like a toga. She scooped to pick up her soggy bra and panties and then left the room.

An erection already rising again at the sight of her and the thought of her heading upstairs to wash herself, he heaved himself out of the bed and headed to the bathroom as well. Only he’d make sure his shower felt like arctic rain pounding down on him.

* * *

As tempting as Nate’s offer of a shower assistant had been, Holly couldn’t accept it. Something inside her had broken as she’d orgasmed. Something that told her she should have listened to the voices in her head telling her sex with Nate was as dangerous as it was delightful. It had taken all the energy she could summon to look at him afterward and swap quips. So instead, she made her escape and ran up the stairs to the third floor, almost tripping on the sheet wrapped around her in her haste.

The moment she reached her room, she let the sheet and her still-wet underwear drop to the floor. She kicked the door shut behind her and ignored the impulse to slide down the back of the door and sob. The day ahead was too busy, too important, for her to fall in a heart-broken heap now. And how could she be heart-broken when she hadn’t even known Nate a week? When she’d known from the start that she would never mean more to him than another notch on his more than impressive bed post?

She trembled, recalling a time in the early hours of the morning when she’d latched onto one of those bed posts and clung for her life as he’d pounded inside her, making her think a life as his sex-slave would be a very blissful life indeed. Until the last time, it had been okay when they were making love—no scrap that, when they were making lust. She’d been too focused on physical pleasure to think about her heart or her mind. He didn’t do love and she didn’t love him. She couldn’t. But the way he’d kissed her so tenderly less than fifteen minutes ago, the way he’d touched her like she was precious and something he couldn’t live without had crushed her.

Now her heart felt as if it had been battered by a club and the idea of facing him later—of facing the world with him—and putting on a carefree smile seemed impossible.

With great effort, she forced herself toward the bathroom, and somehow remembered to cover her newly treated hair with a shower cap before escaping into the shower.

She may have escaped Nate’s dangerous touch but she couldn’t escape her thoughts. Or her regrets. Holly’s knees trembled with the rest of her and she succumbed to the urge to slide down the wall and weep as the water cascaded over the top of her. To hell with her hair, if water snuck in under the cap, the hair dresser—whom she was paying extravagantly for—would have to fix it.

Her body ached in places she couldn’t recall it ever aching before but the physical pain was nothing compared to the throbbing ache in her heart. She hadn’t even cried this much after she’d found Daisy in bed with Ian. And she couldn’t remember feeling this wretched about it either. Embarrassed, fuming, stupid, yes. But not so wretched she couldn’t imagine climbing out of the black.

The sobs turned to gasps and she drank in shower water without meaning to. She clung to her knees, rocking back and forth on the expensive tiles, wishing and hoping that someone would clonk her over the head with something heavy and put her out of her misery. Because she didn’t want to feel miserable, not today when she’d have cameras and eyes glued on her. Not forever, which she feared she would now she’d experienced the bliss of being in Nate’s bed.

Tears streaming like an avalanche, she touched herself where Nate had. But it wasn’t her breasts or between her legs her hand went to. Instead, she reached around and rubbed the small of her back where he’d placed his hand so tenderly at the shelter and more than a few times as they’d trekked around the tourist sites. Yes, he made her feel splendid in bed—reckless, wanton, gorgeous—but he also made her feel whole. Precious, like the center of his world.

She saw it for the act it was, but knowing was different to feeling. Knowing the truth didn’t stop her heart cramping at all.

Sighing, she reached for her shower gel on the floor in the corner of the massive shower and half-heartedly began to scrub herself. Her thoughts meshed together with her tears and she scrubbed like hell hoping to rid her skin of the scent of him.

Sometime later, she wasn’t sure how long, she started at a loud knock on the door. Her breathing halted as her heart stopped in her chest. She cocked her ear, trying to hear over the noise of the water if it were Nate.

Please no.
She couldn’t deal with him yet.

“Are you okay in there?”

She let out the air she’d been holding and her breathing resumed at the recognition of Bec’s voice. “Nate said you came up here ages ago.”

She jumped up, careful not to slip on the soap-sud covered tiles. She shut off the water. “I’m fine,” she said, injecting as much fake-enthusiasm in her voice as she could muster. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay, but don’t take too long.” She detected nerves in Bec’s tone. “Everyone’s here and ready to start.”

“Be there in a moment,” Holly called back, praying that Bec would retreat downstairs to the beauty team and give her a moment to collect herself. She stepped out of the glass cubicle and almost shrieked at her reflection as she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself. Her eyeballs looked like a warzone. Never mind her face looking as if she’d spent far too long in the sun.

She closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. She wished Stella were here—Stella, who wouldn’t make her feel stupid for losing her heart. Stella, who was always so damn organized, she’d have little tubes of that eye-liquid that made you look better after a late night on the town.

But she had to settle for water. Cold water splashed liberally over her face. She let the water dry off naturally as she set to work on drying the rest of her and dressing in the track pants and buttoned top the beautician-in-charge had insisted on. She brushed her hair, predicting she’d get a scolding for letting it be affected by shower steam and then checked her face in the mirror again.

Far from perfect, it would have to do.

She pasted on a smile she didn’t feel, opened the bedroom door and trekked downstairs to really begin the day.