In the Heat of the Spotlight

‘I will leave,’ Luke said steadily. ‘But please let me say something first.’

He stood in the doorway of her kitchen, so still, so sure, like a rock. A mountain. She couldn’t get him out of here if she tried. Yet bizarrely—and terrifyingly—there was something steady about his presence. Something almost reassuring. Which was ridiculous because she didn’t trust any men, and especially not ones who strode in and blustered and proclaimed, insisting that they were going to rescue you as if they were some stupid knight. All Luke Bryant needed was a white horse and a big sword.

Well, he had a big sword. She was pretty sure about that. And she knew exactly how to knock him off his trusty steed. Men were all the same. They might say they wanted to help you or protect you, but really? They just wanted you. And Luke Bryant was no different.

‘All right.’ She folded her arms, gave him a cool smile. ‘So tell me.’

‘I’m overseeing the launch of our stores in Asia, and I’d like to hire you to perform at the reopening of each.’

‘So you want me to sing Take Me Down at each one? Slink and shimmy and be outrageous?’ The thought made her feel ill. She could not do that again. She wouldn’t.

‘No,’ Luke said in that calm, deep voice Aurelie found bizarrely comforting. ‘I don’t want you to do any of those things.’

‘That’s what your Head of PR paid me to do.’

‘And this time I’m paying you to do something else.’

She felt that creeping of suspicion, and a far more frightening flicker of hope. ‘And what would that be, Mr Bossy?’

‘To sing your new song. The one I heard while I was standing on your front porch.’

CHAPTER THREE

AURELIE ALMOST SWAYED, and Luke took an instinctive step towards her. Clearly he’d surprised her with that one. Well, he’d meant to. He had to do something to shock her out of that jaded superstar persona she wore like rusty armour. And the fact that he knew it was armour, no more than a mask, made him more certain.

She was different.

But how different? And how crazy was he, to come here and suggest they do business together? She might still possess a certain popularity, but he knew he was taking a huge risk. And he wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing it.

‘Well?’ he asked, pushing away those irritating doubts. She had turned away from him, her arms wrapped around herself, her head slightly bowed. Luke had to fight the ridiculous and completely inappropriate impulse to put his arms around her. That would really go down well.

Then she lifted her head and turned to face him with an iron-hard gaze. ‘You came all the way to Vermont without hearing that song, so that wasn’t your original intention.’

‘Actually, it was. But hearing it was a nice confirmation, I’ll admit.’

She shook her head. ‘How did you even know—’

‘Jenna, my Head of PR, told me that you’d asked to sing a new composition.’ Some soppy folk ballad had been her actual words, but Luke wasn’t about to say that. And one glance at Aurelie’s stony face told him he didn’t need to.

‘Somehow I don’t think you came here on Jenna’s recommendation,’ she said flatly. ‘She hated the song.’

‘I’m not Jenna.’

‘No,’ she said, and her gaze swept over him slowly, suggestively. ‘You’re not.’ She’d dropped her voice and it slid over him, all husky sweetness. Luke felt that prickling on the back of his neck. He hated how she affected him. Hated and needed it both at the same time, because there could be no denying the pulse of longing inside him when that husky murmur of a voice slid over him like a curtain of silk and she turned from innocent to siren. Innocent Siren, that had been the name of her first album.

Except there was nothing innocent about her, never had been, he was delusional to think that way—and then Luke saw she was walking towards him, her slender hips swaying, her storm cloud eyes narrowed even as a knowing smile curved those soft pink lips that looked so incredibly kissable.

‘So why are you really here, Luke?’ she asked softly. He felt his neurons short-circuit as, just as before, she placed one slender hand on his chest. He could feel the heat of her through the two layers of his suit, the thud of his own heart in response.

‘I told you—’ he began, but that was all he could get out. He could smell her perfume, that fresh, citrusy scent. And her hair tickled his lips. He definitely should have got a handle on his libido before he came here, because this woman made him crazy—

‘I think I know why you’re here,’ she whispered, and then she stood up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his.

Sensation exploded inside him. He felt as if Catherine wheels had gone off behind his eyes, throughout his whole body. One almost-nothing kiss and he was firing up like a Roman candle.

‘Don’t—’ he said brusquely, pulling away just a little. Not as much as he should have.

‘Don’t what?’ she teased, her breath soft against his mouth, and then instinct and desire took over and he pulled her towards him, his mouth slanting over hers as he deepened her brush of a kiss into something primal and urgent. His arms came around her, his hands sliding down the narrow knobs of her spine to her hips where they fastened firmly as if they belonged there and he brought her against him. He claimed that little kiss, made it his.

His, not hers. Not theirs. Because in some distant part of his brain he realised she’d gone completely still, lifeless even, and all the while he was kissing her like a drowning man clinging to the last lifebelt.

With a shaming amount of effort he pushed himself away from her, let out a shuddering breath. His heart still thudded. ‘What the hell was that about?’

She gazed back at him in stony-faced challenge, seeming completely unaffected by something that felt as if it had almost felled him. ‘You tell me.’

‘Why did you kiss me?’

‘Are you trying to act like you didn’t want it?’

‘I—’ Damn. ‘No, I’m not.’ Surprise rippled in her eyes like a shadow on water but she said nothing. ‘I admit, I’m attracted to you. I’d rather not be. And it has nothing to do with why I came here.’

She arched her eyebrows, elegantly incredulous. ‘Nothing?’

Luke expelled an exasperated breath. He didn’t lie. Couldn’t, ever since he’d told the truth in one of the most defining moments of his life and hadn’t been believed. He’d been blamed instead, and maybe—

He pushed the thought away. ‘It probably had something to do with it,’ he admitted tersely. ‘But I wish it didn’t.’

‘Really.’ She sounded utterly disbelieving, and he could hardly blame her. From the first moment he’d met her his body had been reacting. Wanting. He knew it, and obviously so did she.

‘Why did you kiss me?’ he countered. ‘Because I admit I might have taken over, but you started it and there’s got to be a reason for that.’

‘Does there?’

‘I think,’ Luke said slowly, ‘there’s a reason for everything you do, even if it seems completely crazy from the outside.’

She let out a little laugh, the first genuine sound of humour he’d heard from her. ‘Thank you for that compliment … I think.’

‘You’re welcome.’

They stared at each other like two wrestlers on either side of the mat. Some kind of truce had been called, but Luke didn’t know what it was. Or why he was here. His calm, no-nonsense plan to hire Aurelie for the Asia openings—to change the public’s opinion of both her and the store, the ultimate reinvention—seemed like the flimsiest of pretexts after that kiss.

He’d come here because he wanted her, full stop. It really was that simple.

Aurelie stared at Luke, wondered what tack he’d try next. The honesty had surprised her. Unsettled her, because she knew he was speaking the truth and she didn’t know what to do with it. She wasn’t used to honesty.

Trying for something close to insouciance, she turned away from him, picked up her discarded mug of coffee and kept the kitchen counter between them.

Luke folded his arms. ‘So you still haven’t told me why you kissed me.’

She shrugged. ‘Why not?’ That kiss had started out as a way to prove he just wanted one thing and it wasn’t her song. But then she’d felt the softness of his lips, his hair, and she’d forgotten she’d been trying to prove a point. She’d felt a flicker of … something. Desire? It seemed impossible. And then Luke had deepened the kiss and she’d felt herself retreat into numbness as she always did.

She took a sip of her now-cold coffee. She shouldn’t have kissed him at all. She didn’t want to be Aurelie here, in the only place she’d ever thought of as home. She wanted to be herself, but she didn’t know how to do that with someone like Luke. Or with anyone, really. She’d been pretending for so long she wasn’t sure she could stop. ‘Why don’t you tell me why you want to hire me for these reopenings.’

‘I told you already.’

‘The real reason.’

He stared at her, his dark eyes narrowed, lips thinned. He really was an attractive man, not that it mattered. Still a part of her could admire the chocolate-coloured hair, could remember how soft it had felt threaded through her fingers. How hard and toned his body had been against hers. How warm his eyes had seemed—

She needed to put a stop to that kind of thinking right now. ‘Well? Why?’

‘It’s more complicated than I’d prefer it to be,’ Luke said, the words seeming wrested from him. ‘It makes good business sense on one level, and on another … yes.’ He shrugged, spread his hands. ‘Like I said before, attraction comes into it. Probably. It doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.’

‘Despite the fact that you just did.’

‘If you thrust your tongue into my mouth, I’ll respond. I’m a man.’

Exactly. And she knew men. Still, the extent of his honesty unnerved her. He could have easily denied it. Lied. ‘What are you,’ she said, ‘Pinocchio?’

He glanced away, his expression shuttering. ‘Something like that.’

The man could not tell a lie. How fascinating, considering she told dozens. Hundreds. Her whole life was a lie. ‘So if I asked you anything, you’d have to tell me the truth?’

‘I don’t like lying, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Don’t like it, or aren’t good at it?’

‘Both.’

She was tempted to ask him something really revealing, embarrassing even, yet she decided not to. Any more intimacy with this man was not advisable.

‘Okay, then. Tell me just what this whole Asia thing is about.’

‘I’m relaunching four stores across Asia. Manila, Singapore, Hong Kong and Tokyo. I want you to sing at each opening.’

‘Sing my new song.’

‘That’s about it.’

‘That’s kind of a risk, don’t you think?’

He raised his eyebrows in both challenge and query. ‘Is it?’

‘How long were you standing on my porch?’

‘Long enough.’

She had the absolutely insane impulse to ask him what he’d thought of that song. She’d been working on it for months, and it meant more to her than she ever wanted to admit—which was why she wouldn’t ask. ‘Why don’t you want my usual Aurelie schtick?’ she asked instead.

He nodded, and it felt like an affirmation. ‘That’s what it is, isn’t it? A schtick. An act. Not who you really are.’

She didn’t like the way his gaze seemed to sear right through her. She didn’t like it at all, and yet part of her was crying out yes. Yes, it’s pretend, it’s not me, and you’re the only person who has ever realised that. From somewhere she dredged up the energy to roll her eyes. Laugh it off. ‘Of course it’s a schtick. Any famous person is just an act, Bryant. A successful one.’

‘Call me Luke.’ She pressed her lips together. Said nothing. He took a step towards her. ‘So will you do it?’

‘I can’t give you an answer right now.’

‘You’d better give me an answer soon, because I fly to the Philippines next week.’

She let out a low breath, shook her head. She wasn’t saying no, she just felt …

‘Scared?’

‘What?’

‘You’re scared of me. Why?’ She stared at him, wordless with shock, and he gave her a little toe-curling smile. ‘The honesty thing? It goes both ways. I call it as I see it, Aurelie. Always. So why are you scared?’

She bristled. ‘Because I don’t know you. Because you practically stalked me, coming to my house here, muscling your way in—’

‘I asked. Politely. And you’re the one who kissed me, so—’

‘Just forget it.’ She turned away, hating how much he saw and didn’t see at the same time. Hating how confused and needy he made her feel.

‘Tell me why you’re scared.’

‘I’m not scared.’ She was terrified.

‘Are you scared of me, or of singing?’ He took another step towards her, his body relaxed and so contained. He was so sure of himself, of who he was, and it made her angry. Jealous. Scared.

‘Neither—’ Both.

‘You know you’re not that great a liar, either.’

She whirled around to face him, to say something truly scathing, but unfortunately nothing came to mind. All her self-righteous indignation evaporated, and all the posturing she depended on collapsed. She had nothing. And she was so very tired of pretending, of acting as if she didn’t care, of being someone else. Even if the thought of being herself—and having people see that—was utterly terrifying.

‘Of course I’m a little … wary,’ she snapped, unable to lose that brittle, self-protective edge. ‘The press lives to ridicule me. People love to hate me. Do you think I really enjoy opening myself up to all that again and again?’

He stared at her for a moment, saw her, and it took all her strength to stand there and take it, not to say something stupid or suggestive, hide behind innuendo. She lifted her chin instead and returned his gaze.

‘You act like you do.’

‘And I told you, every famous person is an act. Aurelie the pop star isn’t real.’ She couldn’t believe she was saying this.

‘Then who,’ Luke asked, ‘is Aurelie Schmidt?’

Aurelie stared at him for a long, helpless moment. She had no answer to that one. She’d been famous since she was sixteen years old. ‘It hardly matters. Nobody’s interested in Aurelie Schmidt.’

‘Maybe they would be if they got to know her.’

‘Trust me, they wouldn’t.’

‘It’s a risk you need to take.’

It was a risk too great to take. ‘Don’t tell me what I need.’

Luke thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Fine. Let me take you to dinner.’

Suspicion sharpened inside her. ‘Why?’

‘A business dinner. To discuss the details of the Asia trip.’

She started to shake her head, then stopped. Was she really going to close this down before it had even started? Was she that much a coward? ‘I haven’t said yes.’

‘I know.’

Slowly she let out her breath. She was scared. Of singing, and of him. Of how much he seemed to see. Know. And yet part of her craved it all at the same time. Desperately. ‘All right.’

‘Any recommendations for a good place to eat around here?’

‘Not really. There’s a fast food joint in the next town over—’

‘Anything else?’

‘Nothing closer than thirty miles.’

He said nothing, but his thoughtful gaze still unnerved her. This whole thing was a bad idea, and she should call it off right now—

‘Tell you what,’ Luke suggested. ‘I’ll cook for you.’

‘What?’ No man had ever cooked for her, or even offered.

‘I’m not Michelin, but I make a decent steak and chips.’

‘I don’t have any steak.’

‘Do you eat it?’

‘Yes—’

‘Then I’ll go out and buy some. And over a meal we’ll discuss Asia.’

It sounded so pleasant, so normal, and yet still she hesitated. Pleasant and normal were out of her realm of experience. Then she thought of what Luke was offering her—an actual chance—and she nodded. Grudgingly. ‘Okay.’

‘Good.’ He turned to go. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’

Thirty minutes’ respite. ‘Okay,’ she said again, and then he was gone.

Luke gave her nearly an hour. He thought she needed the break. Hell, he did too. He took his time choosing two thick fillets, a bag of potatoes, some salad. He thought about buying a bottle of wine, but decided against it. This was a business dinner. Strictly business, no matter how much his libido acted up or how much he remembered that mind-blowing kiss—

Hell.

He stopped right there in the drinks aisle and asked himself just what he was doing here. His brain might be insisting it was just business, but his body said otherwise. His body remembered the feel of her lips, the smoke of her voice, the emotion in her eyes. His body remembered and wanted, and that was dangerous. Crazy.

He straightened, forced himself to think as logically as he always did. All right, yes, he desired her. He’d admitted it. But this was still business. If Aurelie’s performance at Bryant’s gave her the kind of comeback he envisioned, it would create fantastic publicity for the store. It was, pure and simple, a good business move. That was why he was here.

As he resolutely turned towards the checkout, he felt a prickle of unease, even guilt. He’d told Aurelie he didn’t lie, but right then he was pretty sure he was lying to himself.

By the time he made it back to the house on the end of the little town’s sleepiest street it was early evening, the sun’s rays just starting to mellow. The air was turning crisp, and he could see a few scarlet leaves on the maple outside the weathered clapboard house Aurelie called home.

He rang the doorbell, listened to it wheeze and then her light footsteps. She opened the door and he saw that she’d showered—squash that vision right now—and her hair was damp and tucked behind her ears. She’d changed into a pale green cashmere sweater and a pair of skinny jeans, and when he glanced down he saw she was wearing fuzzy pink socks. Fuchsia, actually.

He nodded towards the socks. ‘Those look cosy.’

She gave him the smallest of smiles, but at least it felt real. ‘My feet get cold.’

‘May I come in?’

She nodded, and he sensed the lack of artifice from her. Liked it. Who is Aurelie Schmidt? Maybe he’d find out.

But did he really want to?

She moved aside and he came in with the bag of groceries. ‘Do you mind if I make myself comfortable in your kitchen?’

She hesitated, and he could almost imagine her suggestive response. You go ahead and make yourself comfortable anywhere, Luke. He could practically write the script for her, because he was pretty sure now that was all it was: a script. Lines. This time she didn’t give them to him; she just shrugged. ‘Sure.’

He nodded and headed towards the back of the house.

Fifteen minutes later he had the steaks brushed with olive oil and in the oven, the potatoes sliced into wedges and frying on the stove, and he was tossing a salad. Aurelie perched on a stool, her fuzzy feet hooked around the rungs, and watched him.

‘Do you like to cook?’

‘Sometimes. I’m not a gourmet, by any means. Not like my brother Chase.’

‘He’s good?’

Luke shrugged. He wished he hadn’t mentioned Chase, or anything to do with his family. He preferred not to dredge those dark memories up; he’d determinedly pushed them way, way down. Yet something about this woman—her fragility, perhaps—brought them swimming up again. ‘He’s good at most things,’ he replied with a shrug. He reached for some vinaigrette. ‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’

‘No.’ From the flat way she spoke Luke guessed she was as reluctant to talk about her family as he was to talk about his. Fine with him.

He finished tossing the salad. ‘Everything should be ready in a few minutes.’

Aurelie slid off her stool to get the plates. ‘It smells pretty good.’

He glanced up, smiling wryly. ‘Are we actually having a civil conversation?’

‘Sounds like it.’ She didn’t smile back, just took a deep breath, the plates held to her chest. ‘Look, if you came here on some kind of mercy mission, just forget it. I don’t need your pity.’

He stilled. ‘I don’t pity you.’

‘If not pity, then what?’

A muscle bunched in his jaw. ‘What are you saying?’

She lifted her chin. ‘I find it hard to believe you came all the way to Vermont to ask me to sing. You hadn’t even heard that song. It could have sucked. Maybe it does.’

‘I admit, it was a risk.’

‘So why did you come? What’s the real reason?’ Suspicion sharpened her voice, twisted inside him like a knife. Did she actually think he’d come here to get her into bed?

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