Undone by the Star (18 page)

From him.

“The mews?” he asked, wanting to reclaim her attention. Stir her memory.

Alex shook her head. “Not this time.” She smiled in acknowledgement of the night he’d walked her home. Marc squeezed her hand, remembering how afraid she had been that her position would be compromised. He glanced at her calm and confident face. She was no longer the CEO-in-waiting; she was the head of The Sadler Hotel, and she would walk through the front door. “No more skulking,” she added for good measure.

Marc nodded, and leaned back, feeling a swell of happiness. And relief. When he’d escorted her to last night’s event, they’d revealed themselves to the world; later when she’d accompanied him home, they had discovered each other in ways that Marc had never expected. He recognized it for what it was…passion exalted by love.

Anything was possible now, he thought as they drew up in front of the hotel.

“I’ll come round,” he said to Alex, and slipped out of the taxi after instructing the driver to wait. He held the door open for her, taking her hand as he had the night before. Alex alighted, head held high as they approached the entrance together.

George was waiting, but not for them. The Right Honourable and Mrs. Smith-Jones had just exited the hotel and were coming down the steps.

“Good morning, Miss Kirkwood,” said the elderly gentleman. “You look lovely, dear. Late night?” he asked innocently.

“More like early morning,” acknowledged Alex.

Apparently, the Rt. Honourables were on their way to New York.

Marc watched the exchange, captured by the bemused look on the older woman’s face. She obviously remembered her encounter with Marc in the lobby, because she was now eying him speculatively. “Ma’am,” he said.

Alex quickly made the introductions.

Penelope Smith-Jones blinked. “I believe we’ve met before.”

“We have," said Marc blithely. “In the lobby of The Sadler.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but Alex stepped in front of him and addressed the elderly couple. “I do hope you enjoy your trip,” she said smoothly. “George,” she added over her shoulder, “would you?”

The chauffeur touched a finger to his cap, helped the couple into the car and then sped away to Alex’s solicitous wave.

Alex fixed her gaze on Marc. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“Never,” Marc grinned. “You are such a pro.” He placed his hands on her shoulders wanting to prolong their parting, but knowing it was time. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Kirkwood. Last night’s performance was…absolutely spectacular.”

“What about this morning’s?” Alex whispered.

“Definitely worth repeating, don’t you think?” murmured Marc.

“Definitely.” She rose on her tiptoes and gave him a brief, but intimate, kiss before leaving him in a whisper of silk and satin.

Marc stood on the pavement, savouring the moment as he watched Alex enter the hotel on her own terms, an independent woman at the top of her game. He’d been incredibly lucky to have met her when he did. If she hadn’t been the head concierge, she would never have mistaken him for a plumber, and then forgiven him for being a star. He smiled ruefully. It was time to go.

But as the taxi swung around into the opposing lane to return Marc to his flat, a familiar glint of reflected light caught Marc’s eye.

“Pull over!” he shouted, twisting in his seat. There it was again. A quick flash from the bushes across the road from The Sadler. Which, in his world, could only mean one thing.

The driver did the best he could in the heavy traffic, but with all the vehicles in the way, it was impossible. “Sir?” the cabbie prompted after an irate driver beside them leaned on his horn.

Marc took one last look then turned back in his seat. He was tempted to run back, to flush out the photographer who had been lying in wait, but the odds were whoever it was, had already scarpered, or even worse, hit the send button.

“We might as well go,” he said grimly. He’d seen this play out before…to him…to friends in the business…to innocent people caught in the voracious nets of celebrity culture.

The best he could hope for was that he was either mistaken or about to be blackmailed.

Anything else didn’t bear thinking about.

CHAPTER TEN

The cheerful lunchtime clatter of The Sadler’s Garden Room was subsiding as patrons gathered their belongings and left for an afternoon of shopping, sightseeing, or a return to their offices. Alex glanced around the room contentedly as she sipped her tea.

“You seem to have had quite an appetite today.” Eugenie Sadler eyed her granddaughter’s empty plate.

Alex gulped the hot liquid and tried not to blush. If Grannie only knew….

She’d been having a late lunch with Helen and her grandmother, regaling them with anecdotes from the previous evening while she devoured one of her favourite dishes, mandarin salad with avocado and roast chicken.

“You know what it’s like, Grannie, smoked salmon hors d’oeuvres and things with little bits of spinach,” she said, blithely repeating Marc’s comments about not getting food stuck in your teeth or getting caught on camera stuffing your face, “and no one ever takes more than the tiniest sip of champagne.”

“So they don’t need the loo in the middle of the premiere,” Helen laughed. “Was it a good production of
Twelfth Night
?”

“It was delightful.” Alex sighed. Everything about the evening had been delightful. First, the heady sense of taking her place among the throng attending the premiere. And then the deeper warmth of companionship when Marc had reached for her hand as the lights dimmed. She’d thrilled as the familiar love story unfolded on the screen. Even the farcical romp of mistaken identities had resonated enough to make Marc give her a nudge. His eyes had glimmered in the half-light at her low laugh. And then later….

Fighting down a fresh wave of longing for Marc, Alex searched frantically for a topic that would satisfy her audience and take her own mind from such dangerous territory.

“The costumes,” Alex continued. “The costumes were fabulous.”

Her grandmother smiled. “I am looking forward to seeing it.”

“Yes,” Alex agreed. “I think it’s especially nice to see a play you really like being done so beautifully on the screen. And Sir Andrew Aguecheek was hilarious. He’d stayed here once…the actor that is, and he remembered me.”

“I think you have stars in your eyes, my dear,” said her grandmother topping up her tea from the hot water pot.

“Was that a joke, Grannie?” teased Alex.

“Just take care, darling, that’s all I ask.”

Nothing was going to spoil her cloud of happiness, thought Alex, not even Grannie’s word of caution. But she did have to get to work. “I can’t thank you both enough,” Alex said catching hold of their hands. “For everything you have done to help me, and not just dressing me for the most exciting night of my life.”

“Our pleasure,” said Helen with a nod to her employer.

Leaving the two women to dawdle over their tea, Alex threaded her way through the dining room. Normally, she would be surreptitiously checking every table, gauging the mood of the lingering guests, and whether or not they were being well looked after. But all she could think about was Marc – his welcoming smile, his eyes alight with love for her, and the feel of his embrace. Alex swallowed. If he was awake, he’d be scrounging around in that ridiculous fridge of his, searching for something to eat.

She didn’t need an excuse to call him, but if the old saying about the way to a man’s heart was true, then inviting him to join her in the Garden Room for a late supper was a brilliant idea.

And perfect timing. Kate was just arriving with the evening’s menus. Alex turned towards her, her step faltering when she saw the anguished expression on her friend’s face.

“Everything okay?” Alex asked as she drew near.

“I was hoping you’d still be asleep.”

“Why? What’s going on? Has someone upset you?” Alex pressed.

“It’s the newspaper,” Kate blurted. “I…um…I left it on your desk. I thought you should know.”

Alex felt the colour drain from her face. “How bad?”

“I’m so sorry,” Kate said.

Heart thumping, Alex headed for the lobby. It was probably some new gossip about Marc and his faux fiancé, she reassured herself, or an unflattering picture of her in her grandmother’s dress. But when Cyril caught sight of her, and then quickly ducked his head to busy himself with his computer screen, she knew it was worse than bad. A distraught-looking Jeremy was tracking her progress like a sheep dog.

Alex stormed through the door to the executive wing, anxiety replaced by anger. It was one thing to go after her, but when it affected her friends and her staff, she felt fiercely protective. And a sickening jolt of fear only added to her fury.

When she strode into the outer office, Clare half-rose from her chair, opened her mouth to speak, took one look at Alex’s face, and hurriedly sat back down.

Alex crossed the carpet in three long strides and snatched the newspaper from the top of her desk.

The entire front page.

Picture after picture.

Of her.

And Marc.

And their evening together.

Nuzzling at the after party, entering the door of his flat, and then reappearing six hours later, dishevelled and looking to all the world like lovers. And then just to make sure everyone got the punchline, there was Marc taking her in his arms on the front steps of The Sadler.

Undone by the Star?
…the headline screamed.

Marc Daniels Cozies up to Sadler Hotel CEO Alexis Kirkwood!

A source close to the new couple told our newspaper, “Alexis is so desperately infatuated with Marc, she spends more time on the celebrity circuit than she does at The Sadler. Definitely not what we expect from the new CEO of the most discreet hotel in town!”

With an exclamation of rage, Alex flung the newspaper to the floor and began to pace. She’d known her growing relationship with Marc would become gossip fodder at some point, but never in her wildest dreams, had she thought it would be this vicious.

Days before the board meeting, with her competitors circling, and now, less than two weeks since she’d taken over, the reputation of The Sadler was in shreds.

She could scream, she was so angry.

And even worse…Grannie would never forgive her.

Grannie! Alex felt sick to her stomach. She grabbed her phone, ignoring all the messages, and quickly called down to the Garden Room. Luckily Kate picked up.

“The most important thing is to make sure that no one approaches Grannie’s table,” Alex told her. “Not even Cyril. I don’t want her upset…no, I need to tell her myself.” Alex put the phone down and scrubbed her forehead. She couldn’t let this “incident” get the better of her. She had to do something.

“Clare!” she called. “Can you come in here, please.”

She needed to put as much distance as possible between herself and Marc Daniels. And the sooner, the better. His celebrity was toxic. No matter how she felt about him, she was, first and foremost, a Sadler.

There was a quiet rap at the door.

Alex frowned impatiently. “For heaven’s sakes, Clare.”

But when she looked up, it wasn’t Clare in the doorway.

It was Marc.

Time stopped for her. The light from the windows fell across his face, highlighting the strong cheekbones, deep eyes, and burnishing the sheen in his hair. He hadn’t shaved and Alex knew to the core of her being the sensual pleasure of running her hand across his jaw, feeling the bones beneath the skin, and the soft pull when he smiled at her touch. Her skin burned in memory of his caresses and the pressure of his lips demanding hers, their last intimate kiss on the steps of The Sadler, and then, this.

Alex dashed a hand across her eyes and stood up.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Coming to see if you’re okay,” retorted Marc. “Why else would I be here?”

Alex rounded her desk, determined to stay strong. But her chest was tight and her breath shallow as she closed the gap between them.

His blue eyes bore down on her as they sized each other up like boxers in a ring.

Then, with a release of pent-up breath, Marc took a step forward, his arms outstretched. Alex crumpled like a wet tissue. The tears she’d been ignoring bubbled and overflowed.

“I am so sorry.” Marc comforted her as he had that night when Grannie was in the hospital. “You should never have been targeted. They usually keep it to ugly rumours about me.”

“It’s Grannie, I’m worried about,” Alex sniffed. “And the hotel.”

With her head pressed against his chest, she could hear the steady thud of his heart. Strong, dependable…real. A few minutes ago, all she could think about was banishing Marc from her life, and now here she was in his arms. Again. And despite it all, the guilt, the anger, the responsibility she knew was hers alone, having Marc by her side was reassuring.

“We’ll get through it.” Marc kissed the top of her head.

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just so overwhelming. From head concierge to notorious CEO in a matter of days.”

“You can relax,” Marc stroked her back. “I’ve already arranged a conference call with my press agent. When it comes to spinning gossip into gold, there’s no one better. She’ll tell us exactly what we should do.”

Alex froze.

She jerked backwards, tears stopped by burning indignation. “Without even talking to me?” she raged. “This is about me and my hotel. And I will handle my own damage control!”

“You need my help,” Marc insisted.

“Why? Who do you think I am? One of your usual bimbos!”

“I didn’t suggest you were,” Marc shot back. “But this is my field, Alex, not yours. We have to get ahead of the news cycle and control it. That means putting out a joint statement.” He studied her intently. “We are a couple, or have you forgotten about last night already?”

“I will never forget about last night.” Alex stepped away from his reach. “Or this.” She pointed to the newspaper with disdain. “So if you’ll excuse me…I have better things to do with my time.” She turned her back on him.