The Price Of Fame

‘Nic.’ She rose up on tiptoe and planted her lips on his. Not tentatively this time. Winding her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the tips of his silky hair, surprised and amazed that she could let herself and her inhibitions fly away so easily.

Nic’s wasn’t the smooth, close-shaven jaw she was accustomed to and the unfamiliar masculine texture tickled her chin, sending reverberations all through her body.

Which hadn’t happened in a really long time.

Her mouth softened and parted without any help on her part. He swallowed her sigh and quickly took the lead, his tongue sliding against hers as he shifted closer, his hands sliding over her bottom, tucking her against him. Outrageously intimate and a long way from publicly acceptable.

She didn’t know and she didn’t care how long they stood there, locked together until she heard a man mutter, ‘Get a room,’ as he trudged by.

Nic broke away; his head came up. ‘Sounds like good advice.’ His voice sounded a little hoarse and husky. He slid her glasses back on her face, then picked up his bag, hefted it onto his shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Wait …’

He glanced back at her and Charlotte saw that his eyes had changed. Not just amused now, but … surprised? As if she wasn’t what he’d expected. And hungry, as if he’d like to devour her at the first opportunity. A delicious little shiver shimmied down her spine.

She looked about at the passengers already swarming over the sky bridge towards the hotel. A curious mix of disappointment and relief threaded through her system. ‘Looks like we might already be too late.’

Grinning, he caught her hand. ‘Then it’s lucky I booked a room earlier.’

CHAPTER TWO

LUCKY for him, she decided when they arrived in the congested lobby. Because now she thought about it—rationally—no way was she going with him to his room, no matter how expert a kisser he was. She’d filled her quota of daring, uncharacteristic behaviour for … oh, the next ten years or so.

‘Wait here,’ he told her as they entered. And as if the crowd parted for him, he made his way to the desk and spoke to one of the busy staff. But Charlotte shuffled to the end of the queue. There had to be something still available.

He returned moments later holding a couple of swipe cards. ‘Okay, we’re set.’

She shook her head. ‘Thanks for everything, but I want to book my own room.’

Quirking an eyebrow, he grinned. ‘You don’t trust me after all we’ve shared?’

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? She’d shared all that with a stranger. ‘So why did you kiss me?’ she murmured as the crowd milled around them.

He grinned. ‘You can ask me that when you called me honey pie?’

There was that. ‘You could’ve just stopped at “get lost”…’

His grin vanished. ‘I don’t like bullies.’ He shrugged but she saw the tension in his shoulders. ‘I just reacted.’

And she knew right then that he’d had firsthand experience with harassment. Something in his own past had triggered his Good Samaritan act. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

‘If I—’

‘Please don’t apologise.’ I enjoyed every memorable mind-numbing second.

‘Why would I apologise?’ The grin was back. ‘I’m not the least bit sorry. Are you?’

Not at all. But it was over. ‘Thanks for your help but I still want to get my own room.’

‘With this crowd?’ He shook his head. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’ He guided her to the business side of the desk, a light hand at her back. ‘Kerry, this is …?’

‘Charlotte.’

‘Charlotte.’ He said her name like a caress, his eyes lingering on hers as he said, ‘Is there anything you can do for my friend here?’

Kerry, an attractive blonde with cornflower-blue eyes, barely looked up, her fingers busy on her keyboard. ‘Sorry, Charlotte, we’re fully booked. But Nic spoke with me and we’re happy for you to share at no extra cost.’

Their earlier performance played in front of Charlotte’s eyes like some hot romance movie. A public kiss was one thing, sharing a room with a guy she knew next to nothing about was something else, no matter how chivalrous he seemed. ‘It’s okay.’ She tightened the grip on her bag and prepared for a long evening ahead. ‘I’ll buy a book or magazine and find somewhere else to wait.’

Kerry flicked Nic a look, then motioned Charlotte aside. ‘My partner, Steve, and I have known Nic for years. He’s an okay guy. You’ve got the chance to spend the next twelve hours or so in comfort; I’d take it if I were you.’

Charlotte nodded. ‘Thanks, anyway.’

‘Your decision.’ Kerry inclined her head. ‘Excuse me …’ She was already moving away to deal with a woman who had one hysterical child attached to her leg.

‘Look, you take the room.’ Nic pushed a swipe card into her hand. ‘I’ll use the gym, catch up on some work at the business centre, then chill out in the terminal. I’ll let you know when they’re flying again.’

‘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.’

He grinned—charm had nothing to do with it. Fate had played right into his hands. Man, he had to love volcanoes. Even lousy reporters.

‘And if you’re not careful, Nic,’ she was going on as she resumed her seat in front of her computer, ‘one of these days you’re going to find yourself charmed right back and life as you know it now will be a distant memory.’

He gave her a wave as he moved off. ‘Not gonna happen.’

Kerry didn’t look up from her screen. ‘Uh-huh.’

He took the elevator, jogged across the sky bridge and onto grass, dodging passengers, following the arrivals road and outdoor car-parking, his mind reliving their up-close and the way Charlotte had responded. As if she couldn’t get enough. He grinned to himself as he waited at the kerb for an airport bus, then crossed a median strip and headed for a line of bushes. Who’d have thought? Charlotte whoever-she-was was one hot babe.

And she was waiting in his room. Their room.

So what the hell was he waiting for? Why was he out running in this cold blustery wind when he could be getting better acquainted on that big wide bed with a woman who, if he was reading her right, wanted the same thing?

Because he’d already decided to run before she’d given him the hot look. Then chosen to take a damn shower—alone. She’d made it abundantly clear. She’d needed time. Fair enough. And now he thought about it, he wanted to give her that time to mull it over and be sure. Because he was sure he didn’t want her backing out once they got started. In fact, he was so ready to get started, his body so tightly wound and hot, it was a wonder he could move at all.

In his experience conservative types in silk suits and pearls weren’t compatible with one-night stands. But dress sense aside, she’d not played the distressed damsel card. The guy had been seriously hassling her but she’d held her own—like the strong heroines he portrayed in his computer games. He liked that about her. She wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself even though he’d seen the flicker of panic in her eyes. So if she changed her mind, he reckoned she’d let him know.

Testosterone surged through him, tightening his muscles, pumping through his blood, and all he could think about was getting her naked and exploring the abundantly curved body he’d held against him. With his eyes, with his hands. With his mouth. Hell—he hoped she wasn’t the type to change her mind.

He checked his watch. Time enough to have finished that shower. And if not … well, he’d just have to finish it with her. He turned back towards the hotel, making a detour via the terminal’s food court on the way.

Since she’d already told the guy, and she’d needed the time to breathe, Charlotte took the shower. With no change of clothes available, and not wanting to crease her suit any more than it already was, she put the terry bathrobe provided by the hotel on over her underwear.

She swiped the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her mouth looked plumper, fuller. Her eyes looked bigger. More slumberous. Bedroom eyes. Oh, God. She rubbed a hand over her heart, which still hadn’t settled into its usual rhythm. She’d never had a one-night stand before. Never been with another man before; Flynn had been a part of her life since her mid-teens.

Part of her life? Huh. She picked up her brush, dragged it through her hair with hard, swift strokes. Their relationship had been over less than two weeks when she’d seen him and the glamorous daughter of a wealthy businessman in the newspaper’s social pages.

So she was getting on with her new life, starting today. She’d never met a guy’s gaze—so full on and meaningful—the way she had Nic’s just now. And he was coming back to see how they got along.

And with that look in his eyes it could mean only one thing: sex. Hot and fast and uncomplicated. Spontaneous. Frivolous. Happy. And wasn’t that what she wanted too? Just for tonight. Then she’d never have to see him again.

Oh. My. Was that really Charlotte Dumont thinking those thoughts?

Swinging away from her unsettling image, she gathered her things and tentatively opened the door. Hearing no movement—so Nic hadn’t returned yet—she walked into the bedroom.

Nic’s backpack sat next to hers on the luggage rack; his spicy scent lingered on his discarded clothes on the back of the chair. He wasn’t here yet he was all around her. She noticed some glossy brochures he’d left on the desk. She didn’t want to get personally involved with him, wasn’t ready for another relationship, but they were … just travel pamphlets. Nothing personal, nothing private. She couldn’t resist picking them up.

The Hawaiian Islands. Brochures on deep-sea fishing, golf, whale-watching expeditions. The best surfing spots. He’d marked off some, made notes she couldn’t decipher and crossed out others. He was on his way to Hawaii for what looked like a full-on guy vacation. No wonder he looked so fit. Bronzed. Well … nourished. He obviously knew how to chill out and have fun.

The word conjured up all sorts of scenarios; not the outdoor kind, but the intimate indoor kind involving him and her and that big bed with its soft white pillows. Her whole body burned. It wanted to burn alongside his. It wanted to know what it was like to be made love to by a man with Nic’s expertise because one thing she was sure of was his ability to pleasure a woman. And then he’d be off to Hawaii and she’d be totally satisfied.

But it had to be her way. Her rules. No talking about themselves and their lives beyond what happened in this room. No swapping phone numbers and email addresses and promises to catch up. She didn’t want him catching up. She wanted one night to prove to herself that she wasn’t the girl Flynn thought she was.

Anticipation raced through her body. To calm herself, she made a cup of the complimentary coffee provided and slid the curtains back as the afternoon faded and the sky took on the early evening hues of orange and lavender. She sat on the only armchair and flicked through a women’s magazine she’d bought earlier but she soon tossed it onto the nearby desk, too frazzled to concentrate on some superstar’s private life exposed to the world.

And if it hadn’t been for Nic, her private break-up with the popular candidate for the upcoming state elections might have been public fodder too.

She really, really owed Nic. So she could have just bought him a bottle of wine or a meal to show her appreciation, couldn’t she? They were here until tomorrow morning at the earliest so it wasn’t too late to suggest catching a cab into the city and finding some cosy candlelit café …

Except then they’d come back to this room and that bed with a few glasses of happy in their systems and it would still be here—the amazing attraction.

She tucked her bare feet up beneath her, pulled the pins out of her hair and teased her fingers through it, enjoying the new feeling of being feminine and free. Why eat out when you could feast on something much more pleasurable right here? Like hot masculine skin and lips and tongues and … Her mouth dried, her skin frizzled. She couldn’t help it; she giggled like a schoolgirl at the wicked thoughts running through her mind.

She was still giggling when he walked in.

CHAPTER THREE

NIC heard the feminine laughter as he pushed open the door. Husky with a hint of wicked. He grinned. Until he caught sight of her sitting on the chair, her face in profile as she stared out of the window, her dark hair aflame in the sun’s reddening light and his amusement shifted beyond a simple Wow to something approaching awe. Unbound and auburn, the glossy mass rejoiced around her shoulders like a celebration of freedom.

She’d turned the TV on to a radio channel. Something soothing and blue and jazzy and she obviously hadn’t heard him come in, so he absorbed the moment with all his senses. The fragrance of her recent shower, the delight in her laugh, her sheer and glorious abandonment.

And he realised he was witnessing something he doubted many people saw when they looked at Charlotte. The woman’s inner beauty. And an innate sexuality that he found irresistible. He had a feeling she didn’t show that side of herself often, much less share it.

He hoped she’d share it with him.

She’d swapped that seriously awful suit for the hotel’s robe. Was she naked underneath? His groin tightened. She still wore the pearls; their iridescence reflected the sun’s vermilion rays. He imagined lifting them, warm from her body, and sliding his fingers beneath to explore her creamy throat.

He couldn’t be certain she’d changed into the robe as an invitation or prelude to sex. It made sense that she’d wear it since their luggage was checked in at the airport. But that was about the only thing that made sense right now because for the life of him he couldn’t remember ever being this captivated by a woman before.

Again the sense that this was different—she was different—slid through him like a ripple on a millpond. He shook off the shivery silvery sensation and discreetly cleared his throat to announce his presence. ‘Anyone for soggy gourmet pizza?’

She swung to face him and a thousand different emotions flitted over her expression before she settled for happy-to-see-him. ‘Yes, please.’ She uncurled herself and stretched out a pair of long shapely legs in front of her. ‘Where did you find pizza?’

‘The airport’s café. The last one. Or the last half of one. I had to fight off the hungry hordes.’ After setting the box on the desk, he switched on the lamp, then reached for the bottle of wine on the shelf above the bar fridge.

She rose, smiling and shrugging the lapels of the robe closer. ‘My hero.’

His hand jerked a bit at that as he upended two glasses. ‘You want wine?’

‘Thanks.’ She lifted the lid on the cardboard container. ‘Yum, I love artichokes.’ She peered closer. ‘It is artichoke, isn’t it?’

He grinned. ‘I think so.’

She reached for her handbag on the coffee table, pulled out a linen napkin embroidered with her name, then proceeded to polish up the motel’s cutlery.

Swallowing his surprise, he opened the bottle, then set a couple of paper plates next to the pizza box. ‘You like Italian?’

‘I do, but seafood’s my favourite.’ She scooped up the slices with a knife, set them on the plates. ‘There’s a fabulous seafood place at Glenelg, on the Marina Pier. Their King George whiting is to die for.’

‘I know the one.’ He didn’t tell her his apartment overlooked said pier as he splashed a generous amount of the ruby liquid into the glasses. ‘And I agree with your review. It’s one of my favourite food haunts when I’m in Adelaide.’

‘Mine too.’ A little hitch in her breath as she stared up at him. ‘Seems we have something in common.’

‘I’m hoping that’s not all we have in common.’ He couldn’t resist stroking his knuckles lightly down the side of her face. Testing her, tormenting himself. Her skin was smooth as silk and smelled like flowers.

Her eyes turned glassy, like a still ocean on an overcast summer’s day, and she pressed her lips together, then said, ‘We weren’t going to talk about ourselves.’

‘Who said anything about talking?’

Their gazes clashed, but he didn’t act on the hot fist of anticipation gripping the lower half of his body and the impulse to show her the alternative option. Plenty of time. A girl like Charlotte definitely needed slow. And he’d already made up his mind to give her a chance to decide whether she still wanted to act on that hot look he’d glimpsed earlier.

So he only lifted the glasses, offered her one and said, ‘Let’s eat before this sloppy offering gets any colder. Cheers.’

‘Thanks. And cheers.’ Taking her plate, Charlotte returned to the armchair while Nic sat at the desk. She took a sip, then set her glass on the coffee table in front of her. Her cheek was still tingly and warm from his touch. Other parts were tingling too, with a wickedly wanton need like she’d never experienced.

But he was giving her space and she appreciated that. Even if she was having a full-on fantasy around him and what they could get up to on that office chair …