Stand-In Star (5 page)

Shopping wasn’t supposed to be this hellish. Sure, she’d been able to appreciate the splendid-ness of many of the buildings—Ralph Lauren looked so much like a high-class hotel with its hooded awnings out front and cool, welcoming courtyard—but the buildings weren’t the ones trying to sell her stuff. The cold drinks in crystal cut glasses had been lovely (and much-needed) in Versace and most of the stores’ attendants had fallen over themselves to be helpful when they’d realized she was Daisy McCartney’s sister, but they’d all been so fake. She’d seen the looks of disdain as she’d crossed over their thresholds and could guess what they thought of her un-designer clothes. All had the head-to-toe surreptitious onceover down to a fine art. But they hadn’t been quite so good at masking their surprise when she’d confessed who she was and what she needed.

Sighing, she dug her mobile phone out of her bag and put in a call to Stella. It would be very late in Australia but this was an emergency and Stella would want to be woken from slumber.

“Hello,” came her friend’s sleepy voice after a number of rings. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I mean no. I
hate
shopping.”

“What’s new? Have you found a dress yet?”

“Aren’t you listening to a word I say?” Holly noticed the door man at Cartier peering suspiciously at her. She turned away from him and lowered her voice. “I can’t do this. I’ve already maxed out my credit cards on two ridiculously over-priced hand bags, sunglasses with frames so large and yellow they make me look like a bumble bee, and an array of scarves. I hate scarves. And I’m supposed to be doing this trip on a budget.”

“Slow down. You’re supposed to be buying a gown.”

“I know. But you should see the frocks in these places. They’re either too short or if they come past my knees, they have holes in very unfortunate places. And I’m not used to having three or four people pamper my every need when I’m in a dressing room.”

“And let me guess, the dressing room is the size of a house, yet, when you’ve wasted their time, you feel bad about not buying something.” Holly could almost hear her friend shaking her head.

“You know I do, but I can’t afford much more of this, not if I want to actually buy a dress.” She glanced at her impulse buy bags, her head, hands and feet aching from the exertions of the day. “I think I’m going to find a cab and go back to the hostel and work out some sort of better shopping plan.”

“Holly,” Stella groaned, “you can’t just give up.”

Right now that seemed like a perfectly fine plan. She’d eyed another person across the road who looked suspiciously like someone from the airport. He wouldn’t be the first she’d seen and managed to escape today. “Yes I can. When I find out how to catch a taxi in this place, that is.”

“It’ll be expensive.”

“That’s the least of my worries right now.” She disconnected and started walking briskly. Less than three meters down the sidewalk, the hairs prickled on the back of her neck. Was someone watching her? Or was this place simply making her paranoid? She glanced around and sure enough the guy from across the road was less than ten meters behind her. She didn’t think it was paranoid to say his eyes were trained, almost aggressively, on her. He lifted a mammoth black camera. And aimed.

Instinct took over and Holly’s legs charged ahead of her. Bags swinging at her side she ran as fast as she could but the sound of her heart break-dancing in her chest was overridden by feet pounding the pavement behind her.

Was he chasing her?

Stupidly, she looked behind—horrified to see she was being stalked by not one but three crazed-looking men, closing the distance between them far quicker than she liked. If they weren’t carrying cameras, the world would be horrified by this scenario.
She
was horrified.

She glanced sideways trying to read the sign of the store closest to her. Surely the designer shop assistants would come to her aid.

She made the decision to turn into one but somehow her foot slipped and, bags and all, Holly went crumbling to the ground. She clutched her foot, crying out in agony as she looked up to see cameras flashing inches from her face.

Mortification swallowed her whole—she wanted to sink into the pavement and time-travel away from this absolute nightmare. With her foot unable to take any pressure that might be her only chance of escape.

Then, just when she thought her situation couldn’t get any worse, she raised her head again and came face-to-face with Nate Devlin.

Chapter Five

Nate knew the exact moment Holly saw him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and an impressive scowl twisted her perfect red lips. She was obviously in pain but he guessed the scowl was for him.

Well, he had a glare that could give her scowl a run for its money. Rescuing this clueless damsel for the second day in a row hadn’t been in his game plan. If only she knew how out of character it was for him to just cancel a client on a whim.

He knelt down on the pavement beside her. “Where does it hurt?”

“Nice to see you too, Nate.”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you want more photos shot in this compromising position?”

“No.” This one word was barely audible, but he looked into her eyes and saw the bravado was all show. Her bottom lip quivered as she pointed to her ankle. “Right here.”

He slipped his hand under the bottom of her calf, lifted her foot as gently as he could and slipped off her sturdy flat pump. He ignored the flash of cameras going off around them. “Geez.” Already her foot had swelled badly around the ankle. Without thinking he ran his thumb up under the arch. Her foot tensed and he heard the intake of breath. “Sorry. That hurt?”

“Not exactly.”

Did that mean she’d felt it too? The unwanted spark that zapped between him when his fingers had touched her bare skin.
Fabulous
.

“Hold on to your bags.”

She did as instructed. He tucked her shoe into the top of one bag and then slipped his arms beneath, lifting her quickly and heading for his car illegally parked on the side of the road. Cameras flashed in his face and he could already picture the headlines that would accompany their photos tomorrow morning, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Having her soft body pressed up against his chest was causing distractions aplenty. He needed to get her in his car, out of his personal space, so her alluring vanilla-something smell stopped wreaking havoc with his hormones.

Ignoring the questions and rude remarks being thrown at them, he pushed through the photographers and managed to maneuver Holly onto the Viper’s passenger seat without causing her too much extra pain. She didn’t so much as squeak, so he assumed success.

Once they were both in the car and he’d pulled away from the curb, he became aware of heavy breathing. Holly’s. He glanced sideways to take a good look at her and noticed tears glistening in her eyes. The usual guilt washed over him that once upon a time he’d been the type of person to cause this kind of fear.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What do you care? You’re one of them,” she spat, the ferocity of her words assaulting him.

No matter her words were almost identical to the thoughts he’d just been having, he didn’t take kindly to being judged. Maybe more so because of the truth they held.

“Not anymore, I’m not.”

Silence reigned between them for a few minutes. Her breathing slowed. She wiped her eyes with a tissue from her handbag and then finally spoke again. “Where are you taking me?”

No apology, no thanks, then. “To the hostel,” he answered gruffly.

“Thanks.”

“To collect your things.”

Her head snapped to face him so fast he heard the whoosh of air as she moved. “What exactly are you plotting?”

He sighed, this conversation already felt like déjà vu. “Didn’t that little episode back there show you something? You’re famous here. You can’t just waltz around pretending otherwise, and staying at a public hostel is ridiculous. How long before one of those photographers pays for a bed in the room you’re sharing? Or one of your fellow backpackers decides they need some extra cash to see them through? You’re not safe there, Holly.”

“So, where will I be safe?”

“With me.” He didn’t plan on acting on his desire—he only had to think about what she did to Daisy to douse the flames—and his house was more protected than a high security prison. Besides, if he took the rest of the week off work, he could be her personal bodyguard and make sure no harm came to her until she boarded the plane for Australia.

She didn’t argue or even say another word until they got to the hostel and he requested instructions on what he needed to collect of her belongings. There was her laptop in the hostel safe and everything else was packed neatly in a bag on her bed. He found it easily and was back to the car within five minutes.

“How’s your foot?” he asked as they weaved through midafternoon traffic to his place.

“Achy,” she said—tension filled the car and her reply.

“I’ll have a look at it when we get back.”

Ruby met them at the door, her eyes widening and her mouth gaping open as she saw Holly in Nate’s arms. He didn’t want her to put pressure on her foot until he’d taken a proper look and decided whether she needed medical attention.

“Can you make up a bed in the living room for Holly?” he asked Ruby. “And then fetch her things from the car, please.” All the guest rooms were on the upper floors but he didn’t want Holly having to take the stairs in her condition.

“Sure.” Ruby toddled off in the direction of the linen closet and Nate took Holly through to the living room.

He laid her down on one of the two sofas, and for one shocking moment an image flashed through his mind of her laying there naked and him equally naked on top of her. Shaking the thought away, he mentally slapped himself as he headed for the kitchen in search of an ice-pack in the freezer. Sex hadn’t been frequent lately, which had to account for why he was having all these undesirable thoughts about Holly.

* * *

Holly watched Nate’s gorgeous behind retreat from the room and let herself sink back into the couch. Despite the comfy-ness of his plush furniture, she wasn’t at all comfortable with this scenario. But really, what other option did she have? As much as she hated to admit it, Nate had talked logically when he’d outlined the reasons she couldn’t stay at the hostel. Even at an expensive hotel she’d have the worry of the paparazzi looming over her. Was there anywhere safer than actually staying with one of them?

She had no doubt Nate’s past career gave him the knowledge to protect her from unwanted attention. Just a pity he thought so lowly of her and her body sang symphonies of lust whenever he came near it.

A flood of desire swamped her as she recalled the way he’d effortlessly swept her up into his arms and carried her to his car, then carried her again when they’d arrived here. His absolute strength made her feel light, feminine. It got her imagination churning over time with the most unlikely of scenarios, which had in turn put her defenses on high-alert and made her act more cranky toward him than necessary. Perhaps she should apologize.

Amidst this thought, he swept into the room. She noticed the tie he’d been wearing earlier had been yanked from its position around his throat and the top two buttons were now open. He came close, knelt down beside her and she peered like a love-sick loon at the skin now visible below his neck. Beautifully tanned skin speckled with the lightest but very masculine splattering of chest hair.

Thank the Lord she was already lying down because her head positively swooned. Had she bumped it when she’d fallen to the ground?

Hopefully oblivious to her errant fantasies, he reached out and caressed her calf.

She bit her lower lip to stop from moaning—pleasantly—at his blissful touch.
Get a grip girl. He’s not caressing. He’s assessing.

But the way he trailed his thumb under the arch of her foot again took all the pain away.

He placed a tea-towel covered ice-pack against her foot and wrapped an elastic bandage around to keep it in place. She gasped at the cold.

“It’s looking a lot better now.” He reached behind him for a television remote and also magicked a hand held bell from somewhere. “You rest up and call Ruby if you need anything.”

He’d gone before she had the chance to thank him.

She channel surfed for the next couple of hours. Ruby flitted in and out bringing her coffees and offering food, but mostly Holly thought about how badly she’d treated Nate. No wonder he believed Daisy’s lies about her. She’d been acting like a nasty, spoiled brat since he’d rescued her.

At about half-past five she heard voices at the front door and worked out Nate was saying goodbye to Ruby. She took off the bandage and tested her weight on her foot. It seemed fine so she walked across the room.

When she heard the front door close and Ruby’s little compact car start up in the driveway, she ventured out to find Nate.

She located him in the kitchen and went in for the kill before he’d even noticed her. In her experience, when you were in the wrong, there was only one way to say “sorry” and that was fast and firmly.

“I’m sorry, Nate.”

He swung round from where he’d been staring into the fridge and glared at her. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of me? And what are you doing putting pressure on your foot?”

“It’s fine now.” She ventured farther into the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast bar, pointing her foot out to show him.

He looked at it and then up at her, questionably. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I was in shock before, which amplified the pain, I think. The ice helped.”

He grunted.

Talk about awkward. Maybe she should just come straight out and tell him her side of the story about Daisy and Ian, but chances were he’d still side with Daisy and the tension that hung between them would sky-rocket even further. Aside from that, she’d made a promise to her parents not to create more gossip—they didn’t want her sister’s memory sullied.

He closed the fridge and crossed to the bench to glare at the hanging pots and pans. “You hungry?” he asked eventually.

She blinked, wondering if he was going to offer to make her dinner. Or maybe he wanted her to cook for him. “A little,” she admitted with a nod.

“Do you want to go out?”

“Go out? With you?” She didn’t mean to sound quite so horrified by the idea.

He chuckled. “No, with the rich, old pervert next door.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Okay then.” If she sounded tentative, it was because she wondered if this was the worst thing she’d ever agreed to. The man could barely stand to look at her, but he’d taken her in, treated her ankle and offered her a bed, so it didn’t feel right to throw his offer back in his face. Hadn’t she come to him with the intention of making some kind of truce?

Then there was the fact she really wanted to see more of L.A. and with Nate by her side while she did so, she’d be more likely to avoid the camera stalkers and not get herself into any more scrapes. Anticipation began to bubble within. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace really good.”

* * *

Nate shut the bedroom door behind him as he stalked to the walk-in-closet to choose an outfit for dinner.

Dinner. Out. With Holly. How the hell did he get himself in these kinds of scrapes? He couldn’t imagine they’d have anything in common and there was nothing worse than sitting silently and awkwardly in a restaurant all evening. Especially when you knew the awkward evening wasn’t going to end in sex. Not that he hadn’t thought about it—he was male after all—and Holly, although in a totally different way to Daisy, was heat-your-pants hot.

If they weren’t sharing a house—he didn’t do uncomfortable morning afters. If she weren’t being stalked by the paparazzi… If she wasn’t the wicked sister of his dead lover… Maybe. As it stood, there were too many things working against a carefree night between the sheets because even he didn’t sleep with women he couldn’t respect.

In theory, this knowledge should make the evening less stressful.

He yanked clean trousers and a shirt off the rail and threw them on the bed. While dressing, he called up one of his favorite restaurants on speed dial and reserved a table. Ten minutes later he stood by the front door, tapping his feet as he waited for Holly. Despite something about her being different to most of the women he knew, she took equally as long to get ready. Finally, just when he was contemplating delaying their reservation, he heard movement behind him and looked around to see her coming down the corridor.

“Wow” slipped out of his mouth before he realized. She wore a killer dress and had scooped her hair in some kind of up do, which showed off the pale perfection of her neck. Pity he didn’t want to think wow thoughts about her.

She smiled at him but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her body, her hands clasping opposite elbows, masking her gorgeous curves and the dazzling royal blue dress. “I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

She stopped in front of him and, without thought, he pulled her hands out of the way so he could see properly. The classy dress pinched in at the waist to showcase her womanly figure. A spark shot through him at the contact. She flinched. Had she felt it too?

“That dress will be perfect,” he said, more gruffly than intended. And because he liked to give credit where credit was due, he added, “And you look absolutely stunning.”

“Really?” She blushed a little. “I mean, thanks.”

They stood silent for a second. He was all too aware this wasn’t a date and he shoved his hands in his pockets, battling the urge to touch her again. Because he’d closed the gap between them, she now stood so close he could kiss her. If he felt that way inclined.

“Shall we go?” he asked instead.

She nodded. He held the door for her then set the security system. They walked in step to his car and he held the door open as Holly climbed into the passenger seat.

While Nate got into the car and drove through the automatic gates, Holly stared out the window. He shifted in his seat. If they couldn’t find safe ground to make conversation in the car, how the hell were they going to make it through dinner?

“So what do you think of our city?” he finally asked.

She twisted her head to look at him. “It’s everything I imagined, I guess.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. But it’s pretty in a bright lights, chaotic kind of way. And I’ll never look at palm trees in the same way again.”