Wedding Promises

Instead, as she headed towards her bathroom, she thought that if only she’d known this was going to happen from the start, the bedroom crisis she’d faced on arrival day could have been solved an awful lot more easily.

Thirty minutes later, Eloise hurried from the lift into the lobby. Most of the wedding guests were already milling around, ready to go out on the local tours Laurel had arranged for them while the wedding party were busy with the photographer and the journalist from the celebrity magazine covering the wedding.

‘You look nice,’ Laurel said as she approached, clipboard in hand, from the reception desk. ‘Kind of...glowy.’

‘Thanks.’ Eloise tried not to blush.

She might have spent just a little more time than normal on her hair and make-up that morning, and put a bit more effort into her choice of suit—a deep charcoal skirt and jacket with a silky cream blouse and high heels. Even though the magazine people would be providing outfits for the photo shoot, and doing her hair and make-up, Eloise had felt like making the effort.

After all, trying to match up to the kind of good looks parading around Morwen Hall at the moment was a full-time job. Nothing to do with the gorgeous guy who’d just spent the night in her bed. Probably.

Oh, who was she trying to kid? She wanted to look nice for her boyfriend. That was what Melissa and the other girls would have chanted, back when they were pre-teens at school. But Noah wasn’t her boyfriend. And he wasn’t sticking around. Two more days and it would all be over, so there was to be absolutely no falling for the guy.

He’d just stay her own delicious little secret.

Well, not so little, actually.

‘Are you okay?’ Laurel asked, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. ‘You’re turning red.’

‘Fine. Just fine.’ Eloise willed her skin colour to return to normal.

‘Well, good. Because Dan and I are off to supervise the coach tours, so you’re on your own with Bridezilla today.’ Across the lobby, Eloise saw Dan watching, waiting for Laurel, as if he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Obviously a man besotted. Good. Whatever concerns she’d had when she’d first seen them together must just have been nerves—coming out as a couple could do that, she supposed.

Something else she and Noah wouldn’t have to worry about. Nobody would ever know about them.

‘You’re not staying for the photo shoot?’ Eloise asked.

Laurel shook her head. ‘One of the advantages of not actually being part of the wedding party. We are surplus to requirements this morning. Plus we’ll probably have a lot more fun on the tours.’

‘I bet.’ The lift pinged behind her and Eloise turned to watch it open, even as she spoke. ‘Wish I was coming with you.’

The lift doors opened and Noah stepped out, his dark hair perfectly messy above those dark chocolate-brown eyes, his stubble just the right length for scraping over her skin and his shirt collar open under his jacket, showing hints of the collarbone she’d kissed her way along the night before...

‘Are you sure?’ Laurel asked, watching her. ‘Seems to me you might have your own fun right here.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Eloise said, and went to go and see her not-boyfriend.

* * *

‘Ready for your close-up?’ Noah asked as Eloise approached across the lobby.

She certainly looked ready. She’d left her hair down and it tumbled in waves over her shoulders, blazing red against the dark grey of her jacket and the creamy shirt that matched her skin. He wanted to touch it, to touch her. To reach out and kiss her, to show every other person in the hotel that she was his, even if only for a few days.

But he couldn’t. Because he’d promised her they’d be a secret, and because one more fling might ruin his chances at getting the film role of the decade.

He knew the reasons. But it still felt like a stupid idea. Anyone who looked at them would know they’d been together, he was sure. At the very least, anyone who’d been paying any attention to Eloise would know she’d been up to something last night. Her whole body screamed relaxed satisfaction, and the smile she gave him told him everything he wanted to know—that they’d be doing it again. And soon.

Thank God. The self-imposed time limit was already weighing heavily on him. In only a few days he’d be gone. That was not a lot of time to make the most of his connection with Eloise Miller.

He didn’t let himself consider the possibility of it carrying on beyond New Year’s Day. Eloise’s life was here, and his was everywhere else. She wanted for ever love, the deep and lasting kind, the sort she could rely on. He wanted anything but that. And, to be fair, she’d not given him any signs that she wanted anything more from their fling. Yes, their connection had been immediate and their chemistry explosive. But just because they’d shared secrets and feelings didn’t mean they had to share a life.

Maybe he was destined to only ever have meaningful relationships that lasted a day or two. And maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

At least this time, when it was over, it would be his choice and everyone involved would still be breathing. He’d take that as a win.

‘I can’t believe they actually want to take photos of me,’ Eloise said, standing just an inch or so too close. She wanted to keep this a secret but she didn’t even know what she had to hide, Noah realised. Understandably. Eloise wasn’t the sort of woman who would have done this before.

‘You’re the maid of honour,’ he pointed out, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to create the illusion of distance between them. ‘Kind of important to the wedding party.’

Eloise rolled her eyes. ‘I’m the understudy. And I’m only doing it because Melissa’s PR person thought it would look good.’

‘And you do look very, very good this morning,’ Noah murmured, too softly for anyone else to hear.

Eloise’s cheeks flushed the same pink as her skin did after making love. Just the sight of it made Noah want to drag her back off to bed for the rest of the day, photo shoot be damned.

He wasn’t quite egotistical enough to believe that the way Eloise was coming out of her shell—performing at the Frost Fair, dressing like she didn’t hate everything about her body—was entirely down to sleeping with him. But her words from earlier that morning had stayed with him all through his shower and getting dressed. She liked who she was when she was with him. Not what other people thought of her because she was on his arm, not what being seen with him could do for her career because, if anything, it might damage it, if Melissa really kicked up a fuss.

Just who she was with him.

Noah wasn’t sure he’d ever had that sort of an effect on someone before. It was intoxicating.

As the coaches finally left, Eloise led him down the corridor towards the rooms they were using for the photo shoot and interviews, but as they passed a small, empty office, Noah’s willpower ran out. Again.

Tugging her into the office after him, he shut the door and placed his back against it, effectively stopping anyone from interrupting. And her from leaving.

‘Noah...’ she said as he pulled her into his arms, but any real complaint in her voice was drowned out by the smile spreading over her face.

‘What is it about keeping things secret that somehow makes it even sexier?’ He kissed his way up her neck and was rewarded with a low moan.

‘We’ve got to go,’ Eloise said.

But Noah countered with, ‘Just two minutes,’ and she gave in rapidly.

Ten minutes later, they finally made it to the photo shoot.

‘You’re both late,’ Melissa said, eyeing them suspiciously.

‘My fault,’ Noah said cheerfully as he headed towards a clothing rail hung with suits and shirts. ‘I overslept after the stag do, so poor Eloise had to come and wake me up.’

Melissa didn’t look convinced but, since Eloise had already slunk away to the other side of the room where Caitlin and Iona were both choosing cocktail dresses from a second rail, she at least didn’t push the matter.

Noah tried to pay attention to the questions he was being asked by the stylist, and the clothes options in front of him, but it was almost impossible to keep his gaze from Eloise. He found it fascinating, watching her go through the rigmarole of a styling session and photo shoot for the first time. She looked constantly wide-eyed and bewildered and he wanted to be over there, talking her through it, reminding her that being the centre of attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

But then the real centre of attention—the bride—would glare at him and he’d hear Eloise’s voice in his head again, saying, Nobody knows, and make a concerted effort to look away.

Even if he didn’t last long.

‘We’re taking shots of all the members of the wedding party in formal dress, to go alongside the photos from the actual wedding tomorrow,’ the photographer explained as she positioned Noah where she wanted him, against the backdrop of the main fireplace in the reception area. ‘Melissa didn’t want there to be any chance of the actual wedding outfits getting out before the big day—understandable, given the amount of money she’s being paid for the exclusive—so we just went with some traditional formalwear in complementary colours.’

‘Sounds great,’ Noah said absently, wondering what Eloise was wearing right now. And how quickly he could get her alone to take it off her.

‘If you could just look at me...?’ the photographer asked, and Noah brought himself back to the present with considerable effort.

This was part of the job; he knew that. And he needed to give it his full attention.

Once the photos were taken he was whisked off for his interview, where he was asked questions about his friendship with the bride and groom, how he liked Morwen Hall, his latest film, the usual. He smiled, said the right things and kept his guard up just in case the interviewer—a journalist called Sara that he’d worked with a few times before—slipped in anything controversial. She didn’t and, overall, Noah decided it might have been the most straightforward interview he’d ever had. Apparently not being the main attraction had its advantages, sometimes.

As he stood to leave, he saw Eloise standing nervously beside the door to the smaller coffee bar area they were using for the interviews.

‘Want me to stay?’ he asked softly. Eloise shook her head, but Noah was sure that had more to do with her determination to keep things between them a secret than because she wanted to do the interview alone.

Maybe he’d just hang around nearby. Just in case.

Pouring himself another cup of coffee from the machine set up on the bar, Noah waved goodbye to Sara and took his cup just around the corner, to a high-backed wing chair looking out over the riverfront. Far enough away that no one was likely to notice he was there, but close enough that he’d be able to hear if Eloise got into trouble. Sure, the questions lobbed at him had been soft balls, but Eloise wasn’t used to this sort of thing.

For a while, things seemed to go well. He couldn’t always make out all the words but Eloise’s voice stayed low and even, with a hint of laughter from time to time. She was good, Noah decided, listening intently. Calm and composed, but with enough pauses to show that she was thinking about her answers.

But then, just when Noah had decided they must be wrapping up, Sara threw in one more question.

‘I’ve heard stories that you and Melissa weren’t really all that close growing up. That her asking you to step in as maid of honour had more to do with PR than friendship. Do you have anything you’d like to say on that?’

Silence. Placing his coffee cup on the table, Noah peered around the back of his chair, enough to see the alarm on Eloise’s face. His body tensed at the sight, desire to save her rising up in him. Without thinking, he got to his feet and crossed to where they were sitting.

‘Almost done?’ he asked. ‘Only I promised Melissa I’d run her maid of honour through her paces again before tomorrow. We have to dance, you see.’ He took Eloise’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled and he caught her against his chest, holding her for just a moment too long.

Sara looked between them as Eloise stepped back, not looking at him.

‘So, you two must have grown very close, preparing for the wedding together,’ she said. ‘Anything to all those old sayings about the best man and the maid of honour...?’

Eloise’s cheeks flamed red and Noah cursed silently. He should have known better than to get involved, but he just couldn’t sit there and watch Eloise struggle.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stepping backwards and almost tripping over the chair. ‘I need to go...check the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner.’

And then she was gone, racing out of the bar before either of them could object.

‘But I thought you were supposed to be dancing?’ Sara asked knowingly.

‘So did I,’ replied Noah.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE RESTAURANT WAS blissfully empty when Eloise arrived. The rehearsal dinner wasn’t for another few hours, but already the decorations were up, the tables laid and the menus displayed against the festive floral decorations.

Sinking into her assigned seat, Eloise rested her elbows on the crisp white table linen and placed her chin in her hands.

Well.

That had been a disaster.

As much as she’d like to blame Noah for everything, she knew that a large part of the fault lay with her. It was her cheeks that bloomed bright red at the mention of a relationship between her and Noah. Why couldn’t she control her body? Of course, if she could she might never have slept with him in the first place.

And, whatever trouble that was likely to get her into now, she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it.

‘Hey,’ Laurel called as she walked through the entrance to the restaurant, crossing to where Eloise was slumped at the table. ‘Everything ready here? We just got back. Everyone’s gone to get changed for the rehearsal dinner. Which I’m guessing you will be doing too...?’ She left it hanging, as if she wasn’t entirely sure Eloise didn’t plan on attending in her suit.

‘Yeah.’ Eloise glanced at her watch. ‘Oh, yes, I’d better get moving. Did the tours go okay? Nice romantic day out with Dan?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Laurel said simply. ‘What about you? How were the interviews?’

‘All fine,’ Eloise lied.

‘And how is the very gorgeous Noah?’ Laurel raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Eloise groaned. ‘Don’t ask.’

‘So there is something going on with you two! I knew the gossip was wrong.’

‘Gossip?’ Eloise jerked her head up. ‘What gossip? What are they saying?’

‘Nothing bad, I promise.’ Laurel pulled out the chair next to Eloise and sat down. ‘Nobody’s laughing or anything. In fact, everyone seems to think that you’re keeping Noah at arm’s length. I take it that’s not entirely the case?’

‘It’s a secret,’ Eloise blurted out. ‘I don’t want anyone to know.’

‘Well, so far, they don’t. In fact, from what I heard, people are pretty amazed. They’ve seen him hanging around, chasing after you—apparently that’s not his usual modus operandi.’

Eloise sat back in her chair and stared at her friend. ‘Really? How do you mean?’

Laurel shrugged. ‘Seems he usually lets people come to him. He’s the chase-ee not the chaser, if you see what I mean.’

Eloise bit her lip, unsure how to feel about this news. Did that mean she meant more than the usual women he dated? After the things he’d said the night before, she’d almost started to hope that she did. Even if this was just a momentary fling, it was nice to know it wasn’t meaningless.

But then, was she just fooling herself about that too? They’d been naked in bed at the time. And Eloise knew better than to trust a guy when sex was on the cards. Was it just her poor, inexperienced heart hoping for more?

And, if so, what more was she hoping for? What more could there be, really, when he was leaving the day after tomorrow? When no one would ever know what had happened except for him and her.

Well, and Laurel. But she didn’t count.

Their whole relationship was a moment out of time. A fantasy.

And maybe the real reason she hadn’t been mad at Noah for almost giving them away to the interviewer was that, deep down, she wanted it to be real, in a way it couldn’t be if no one knew. Yes, she didn’t want to be another of his women, cast aside when he was done with her—that was why keeping this secret was so important.

But if she mattered to him...

No. He’d made it very clear that he couldn’t feel that way, couldn’t let those deeper feelings in and out, not after Sally. Letting herself believe, even for a moment, that he might care more for her than their short-term fling would allow was dangerous...but exhilarating. Like opening up to him the night before had been—emotionally and physically. And like all the other steps into the spotlight she’d been taking since Noah had arrived.

But letting herself fall in love with Noah Cross was a step too far.

‘Are you okay?’ Laurel asked and when Eloise looked up she saw her friend was frowning at her. ‘You look...scared.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ Eloise pasted on a smile for Laurel’s benefit. ‘I need to go get ready for tonight.’

And decide how close to the spotlight she was willing to go. Before she got burnt.

* * *

Noah went straight from coffee to whisky, once Sara had packed up and departed to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. He’d stayed in the bar near the lobby so he could keep an eye out for Eloise, but there was no sign of her—even when the coaches returned and all the rest of the guests traipsed in.

Unfortunately, in the chaos of people, he also failed to see Melissa approaching.

‘Right,’ she said, standing beside his chair as the crowd thinned out. ‘Time for you and me to have a talk.’

Noah winced and tried to get to his feet, but apparently the whisky was already working because he felt his head start to spin, then Melissa’s hand was on his shoulder, pushing him back down into his seat.

‘So. Tell me about Eloise,’ Melissa said, taking the seat opposite him. ‘Or, more specifically, you and Eloise.’

There was no sign of the sweetness-and-light Melissa Sommers who’d been playing to the camera and the media all morning. This Melissa was all business and looked about ready to rip his head off—and Noah was pretty sure it wasn’t out of concern for her friend getting hurt.

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ he said with a shrug. The lie came out easily; he was an actor, after all. But, even as he said it, Noah realised he didn’t want to lie. He wanted to tell the whole world that he was...what? Sleeping with Eloise? Dating her, even?

No, he realised. What he really wanted to do was tell the world that Eloise was his.

Except she wasn’t. At least, not more than temporarily. They hadn’t discussed exclusivity because they hadn’t had to. Their whole love affair was set to run out in forty-eight hours or less. When would either of them have time to cheat?

If he had more time, he thought he could probably talk Eloise into being open about their relationship—into telling the world, if necessary. She was warming to the spotlight, at least, and getting over her fear of being the centre of attention. And if it was a proper relationship rather than a casual fling, then Stefan, the director, couldn’t possibly object—Noah’s romantic life would grow boring to the world’s media the moment he stayed with one person for more than a week. But time was the one thing he didn’t have.

And didn’t want, he reminded himself. Half of the thrill of his fling with Eloise was knowing they had to make the most of every moment. If he had for ever stretching out in front of him to spend with one woman, he’d be running for the hills. That was just who he was.

Even if that woman was Eloise.

Yes, they’d shared some secrets, and the intimacy had been nice. New, unfamiliar but...comforting, somehow. He’d felt lighter, better, in her arms.

He’d gone deeper with her than with any woman since Sally. But deep was one thing—falling the whole way was something else altogether.

‘I saw the two of you this morning,’ Melissa said, her eyes narrow with suspicion. ‘If you expect me to believe—’

His phone rang, loud and shrill, on the table, cutting her off. ‘I do,’ Noah said, picking it up. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me? It’s my agent.’

Even Melissa had to respect the importance of an agent’s phone call. She sat, sulking, in her chair while he got up and paced across the lobby and through the front doors out onto the steps.

‘Tessa? What’s the news?’ The winter air was bitter and Noah huddled against the side of Morwen Hall to stay out of the wind. He figured this weather was still warmer than the chill Melissa was emitting in his direction today.

‘Not your love life, for once. Not a hint of an inappropriate sexual encounter anywhere on social media today. I’m impressed.’

‘I can show restraint when it matters,’ Noah lied. ‘Did you get me the video audition?’

‘Yes, I got you your call,’ Tessa said. ‘But they want to talk early this afternoon—evening for you, I guess. You’re free, right?’

‘Right now, yes,’ Noah said. ‘But it’s the rehearsal dinner for this wedding in an hour or so—’

‘Then you’ll have to be late,’ Tessa interrupted. ‘If you really want this part, this is your one chance to convince him.’

Noah took a breath. This was his career at stake. ‘What do I need to do?’

‘You need to sell it, more than ever before. You need to show them that you get this guy, inside out.’ Tessa paused, and Noah knew she was wondering whether he was really capable of it. Ouch. ‘Should we talk it through now? Get some ideas going? I’ve been making some notes...’

‘No,’ Noah said firmly. ‘I’ve got this. I know this character. I do.’

‘So, convince me.’ When he didn’t answer, she sighed. ‘Noah. If you can’t sell it to me you’re sure as hell not going to sell it to these guys. Then we’ll both be on their blacklist for wasting their time.’

‘Fine. He’s...he’s grieving.’

‘I think we got that from the dead wife.’

‘Yeah, but he’s not just grieving for her. He’s not just lost a woman he loved. He’s lost all hope that he can ever have that again. He’s scared—so damn scared to take any more risks with his heart, now he knows how much it can hurt. How it can destroy you, take you right back to the bone and leave you to rebuild everything. And when you do...you’re not the same. You can’t be. You’re a mass of scar tissue that can’t feel anything any more, and you’re happy about it. Because at least it hurts less that way.’

Tessa was silent on the other end of the phone. Noah grasped for the stone balustrade lining the steps down from Morwen Hall, desperate for something to keep him balanced. Grounded.

Because he hadn’t been describing a character, he realised. He’d been talking about himself, the same way he’d talked to Eloise in bed the night before. The way he never talked.

‘Where did that come from?’ Tessa asked after a minute. ‘Noah, I’ve never... Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ he managed. Then he laughed. ‘Let’s just say I’ve found a new muse.’

‘Are actors allowed muses?’

‘This one is.’ Except he wasn’t, not really. Eloise wasn’t his. She was just a temporary distraction.

‘Well, whoever she is, hang onto her. Sounds like she’s just what you need. As long as you’re not sleeping with her,’ Tessa said crisply. ‘Now, go. Get ready for that call. You’ve got thirty minutes.’

Time enough to get ready for the rehearsal dinner, so that when he was done with his call he could head straight down there and find Eloise. Not because she was his muse, or because she might be mad at him, or even because she was so sexy he couldn’t go another few hours without her again.

Just because he wanted to see her. And because they didn’t have much time left.