Wedding Promises

Still, she hadn’t felt confident leaving Melissa alone with Laurel until the crowd of guests had mostly departed to their beds. Noah had called it quits some time earlier, whispering a goodnight in her ear as he left.

Eloise had spent more of the night remembering the feel of his lips so close to her than she would ever admit to him. By the time morning rolled around, she hadn’t had nearly as much sleep as she’d hoped to get.

Yawning, she stretched and reached for her smartphone, sitting on her bedside table. They had another big day ahead of them—especially with the Frost Fair that afternoon. Melissa had wanted something wintry, magical and British for her guests to enjoy as a pre-wedding event. Eloise and Laurel had come up with the idea of a traditional Frost Fair, like they used to hold on the frozen River Thames back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. If nothing else, it would provide quite a spectacle, Eloise was sure.

Of course, first she had to get through a dress fitting with Melissa.

Pressing the screen on her phone, Eloise called Laurel to check on her plans for the day, and quickly checked in with her deputy about anything that might come up while she was being fitted for her maid of honour dress. Laurel, Eloise couldn’t help but note, sounded far grumpier than Eloise would if she’d spent the night with a guy as gorgeous as Dan. She hoped that Melissa’s reaction the night before hadn’t caused problems between the two of them. Laurel deserved a nice guy.

Eventually, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Showered and dressed in a knitted navy dress and knee boots, Eloise headed down to the conference room they’d put aside for the final dress fittings that morning. Melissa was already there, holding court over the two other bridesmaids while a harried-looking woman unpacked pins and measuring tapes and dress bags.

‘And here’s the replacement maid of honour,’ Melissa said, looking up as Eloise entered the room. ‘I hope you didn’t eat too many of the canapés last night, Eloise, or you’ll never fit into the dress!’ The bridesmaids both laughed, and Eloise bit her tongue to keep from responding. Apparently Melissa had already forgotten her comments about Cassidy, the previous maid of honour, putting on weight for a part. She’d probably remember in time to make another joke at Eloise’s expense, once she had the dress on.

She really hadn’t missed Melissa at all in the past decade, Eloise thought.

‘We were just talking about how Laurel and Dan tried to steal my thunder last night,’ Melissa went on.

‘And failed,’ one of the bridesmaids, who Eloise faintly recognised from her most recent cinema trip, said. Was she Iona? Eloise wasn’t sure. After a while, all those Hollywood blondes started to look the same to her.

‘Of course they did!’ said the other bridesmaid, who Eloise was almost certain was called Caitlin. ‘As if anyone cared about anything except how fabulous Mel looked in that dress last night.’

They all turned to Eloise, apparently waiting for her agreement. ‘It was a very beautiful dress,’ she said, hoping that was good enough. From what she’d overheard, plenty of people had an opinion on the groom’s brother and bride’s sister getting together. Some were even giving odds on their relationship outlasting Melissa and Riley’s.

‘And so is yours!’ Melissa clapped her hands together as the seamstress pulled the first bridesmaid’s dress from its bag. ‘Not as gorgeous as mine, of course, but still. What do you think?’

Eloise stared at the icy blue-green concoction of chiffon and silk. The colour wasn’t one she’d ever choose to wear but it was very appropriate for a winter wedding, she supposed. If they insisted on having photos taken outside, her skin colour might actually match the dress. That would be nice.

‘It’s lovely,’ she lied, as she got a good look at the laces at the back of the corset top. Corsets were for people with curves, weren’t they? And she didn’t have nearly as many of those as Melissa, or the bridesmaids. Eloise had height, long legs and a slender body, none of which, she imagined, were going to be shown off to their best advantage by this dress.

Which shouldn’t bother her at all. This was effectively a job, and she wore boring grey suits to work every day and never worried about whether they complemented her complexion. Why should she care now?

Because you’ll be standing next to Noah Cross.

She wished she could pretend that she just wanted to look good in the world’s media when the photos came out but, given that she was starring in this wedding alongside people who’d made the top ten in the world’s most beautiful people list, there wasn’t a hope of that to start with.

No, what she was really thinking about were Noah’s words the night before. ‘That is a very boring dress.’ Even though they’d established there would be no romance between them, a small part of her couldn’t help but wish the dress Melissa had picked might have wowed him, just a little.

She sighed. He’d just have to deal with a non-boring but faintly hideous dress, she supposed.

Stepping behind the screen they’d set up, Eloise slipped into the dress and pulled the corset top up over her non-existent curves.

‘Let me tighten that for you,’ the seamstress said, coming up behind her and yanking on the laces. Eloise winced as all the air flew out of her body. Apparently someone was determined for her to have curves, even if breathing had to be sacrificed.

Once she was suitably tightened and tied, Eloise stepped out into the main room, where the other two bridesmaids were already in their dresses. Apparently actresses didn’t have the same privacy issues as normal people. On each of them, the icy blue looked stunning against their blonde hair, and their delicate curves, quite possibly emphasised by breast implants, were highlighted to perfection. Looking at them, Eloise was surer than ever that Melissa’s comment about Laurel’s cleavage not fitting in the dress was just another excuse not to make her half-sister maid of honour.

‘Well, don’t you look...?’ Melissa trailed off and gave her a patronisingly encouraging smile. ‘I told you the dress would fit, didn’t I? Corsets are marvellously forgiving.’

‘I’ll just need to let down the hem a little...’ The seamstress fussed around her with the measuring tape.

Eloise wanted nothing more than to strip the dress off right there, no matter who was watching, and get back to hiding in her professional grey suit.

But then she heard Noah’s voice from the door to her left. ‘Wow.’

Fixing a smile onto her face, she turned to look at him, hoping against hope that he was a good enough actor to make her feel slightly less like an ugly stepsister in a pantomime.

‘You look... Wow.’ Noah’s gaze ran the length of her body before it met her own, and Eloise swallowed as she realised he wasn’t acting. Or if he was he was a lot better at it than his films suggested.

‘Noah Cross lost for words,’ Melissa said, her light tone sounding forced. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

Noah broke away from staring at her, and Eloise tried to take a deep breath to recover from the intensity of his gaze. Then she remembered the corset and settled for a few shallow ones instead.

‘Melissa, I don’t think you know how to pick a boring dress.’ He said it like a compliment and, from the way Melissa’s cheeks turned pink, it might have been the nicest thing he’d ever said to her. But Eloise felt a small glow inside her, knowing that he was making a private joke, just for her, and that Melissa would never get it.

‘I’m glad you approve,’ she said, apparently placated. ‘Now, are you ready to teach your pupil her steps?’

‘Steps?’ Eloise asked as Melissa and Noah both turned to look at her. She didn’t like the sound of that at all.

‘For the first dance at the reception,’ Melissa explained. ‘Obviously, it’ll just be Riley and me on the dance floor to start with, but then we’ve planned for the best man and maid of honour to join us, followed by Iona and Caitlin and their partners. Didn’t Laurel mention it?’

‘It didn’t come up,’ Eloise said, her voice faint. She’d been far more concerned with the details of the catering and the rooms than what was actually going to happen at the wedding reception itself. Speeches and dances and so on were Laurel’s department, not hers.

At least, they had been.

‘It’s not a complicated dance,’ Noah said, obviously trying to be reassuring. But he didn’t get it. It wasn’t the steps that bothered her. It wasn’t even being in Noah’s arms and having to restrain herself from kissing him, hard though that might be. No, it was all the eyes that would be on her as she stepped out onto the dance floor that made her hands shake and her knees wobble. It was being the centre of attention. That was what caused that big ball of anxiety in her chest to double in size.

‘Just try your best,’ Melissa said, her voice dripping false sympathy. ‘Everyone will know you’re not a professional, so they won’t be expecting much.’

‘Well, that’s okay then,’ Eloise ground out between her clenched teeth.

‘Why don’t we go practise somewhere else?’ Noah suggested, looking between them. ‘Far away.’

‘Good idea,’ Eloise said, stepping back behind the screen to get out of the ridiculous dress in a hurry.

‘Oh, I think it would be much better to do it here,’ Melissa said as Eloise tugged on the corset strings. ‘After all, Eloise might need someone to show her how it’s really done. And really, Eloise, I think you’d better keep the dress on. You want to know how it feels to dance in costume, don’t you?’

Eloise gave up the unequal fight with the corset strings. Apparently it was time to dance.

* * *

Noah stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for Eloise to join him. She’d stepped back out from behind the screen at Melissa’s request, her face red and mutinous.

‘Shoes!’ Melissa jumped up and dashed across the room, a blur of blonde as she reached into one of four boxes laid out on the table under the window. ‘What size are you, Eloise?’

‘A seven,’ she said, still not looking at Noah, or Melissa, or anywhere that wasn’t the floor.

Somehow, Noah got the distinct impression that Eloise wasn’t looking forward to dancing with him.

‘Cassidy is a six, but I’m sure you’ll be able to squeeze into them, won’t you?’ Melissa smiled sweetly as she handed over the shoes, and Noah prepared to dive in and separate them if Eloise finally lost the last scraps of her composure.

She didn’t. Instead, she looked at the shoes in her hand and pulled a face.

‘They have ribbons.’

‘I know! Aren’t they beautiful?’ Melissa squealed. Noah hadn’t really sensed ‘beautiful’ from Eloise’s tone. ‘Go on, put them on. You’ll want to practice the dance in them.’

‘I don’t want to practice the dance at all,’ Eloise muttered as she bent to put on the shoes, but Melissa ignored her.

It took some effort, even Noah could see that, but eventually the shoes were on, ribbons tied, and Eloise was proclaimed ready to dance.

‘Now, it’s a nice simple waltz, really,’ Melissa said. ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll demonstrate with Noah so you can see what Riley and I will be doing. Then you can step in and give it a go.’

Melissa moved into his arms before Noah could agree to the plan, and Iona started up the music. The familiar theme tune from Melissa’s biggest movie so far rang out through the room and, over her shoulder, Noah saw Eloise roll her eyes. He smirked at her and she returned the smile, her cheeks finally back to their normal colour.

‘Noah! You missed your cue.’ Melissa stamped one dainty foot on the floor and Iona started the music once again. ‘It’s just as well we’re rehearsing today. Obviously you haven’t been practising on your own.’

‘Every morning for twenty minutes, just like you asked, Mel. I swear,’ Noah lied shamelessly. It was a waltz. He’d learned how to waltz for his sister’s wedding when he was eight. If he could do it then he could do it now.

This time, he hit his cue perfectly, sweeping Melissa around the floor easily. But his attention wasn’t on his dance partner. It was on Eloise, watching from the sidelines. Her cheeks might no longer be bright red with embarrassment, but with every bar of the music she grew stiller and smaller somehow, fading away in that ice-blue dress.

That dress. When he’d walked in and seen it, it had blown him away. For all that he’d been spending the last twenty-four hours staring at Eloise, he’d not had a chance to see her in anything that accentuated her figure so well. Even the colour, which he wouldn’t have picked for her, added a strange otherworldliness coupled with her blazing hair. She looked like some mythical princess of ice and fire—and utterly unlike the woman who draped herself in shapeless suits and boring black dresses.

But now, as he whirled around the room with Melissa in his arms, she seemed to be retreating back into herself. She’d said she liked to fade into the background, and he hadn’t thought it possible. Until he saw her in action.

She’d made herself nothing, and he wanted to drag her out into the light again. Wanted to show her off, to see her beauty reflected around her. Wanted to show her how beautiful she was.

But, more than that, he wanted to protect her from Melissa and whatever plans she had that involved making Eloise’s life miserable.

Was this what not sleeping with a woman did to him? He couldn’t have her in his bed, so instead he started finding other reasons to be near her? They’d agreed to be friends, but this felt like something...different. Something that could be a whole lot more troublesome.

Tessa would probably rather he just slept with her and got it over with.

But Stefan the director might not. And until that part was in the bag... Eloise was still off limits. And maybe even after that, if what Tessa said was true. Noah could be staring down a long period of acting-enforced celibacy.

Unless... Tessa had only said to be discreet. He hadn’t thought that could be possible with Eloise, with the world watching them at Melissa’s wedding. But they were supposed to be spending time together. Nobody could talk about that. And seeing her fade into the background, realising how much she truly didn’t want to be watched... If there was anyone he could have a discreet fling with, despite his celebrity, it would be Eloise.

If he could convince her. Which was by no means a sure thing, given her feelings about actors.

The music came to an end at last, and Melissa hugged him close before stepping away again. ‘Right! Eloise’s turn.’ She turned to her maid of honour, smiling in a way that Noah could only describe as predatory.

She was waiting for Eloise to fail, he realised. If it hadn’t been for the world’s media watching, Melissa might even have waited until the day to tell Eloise about the dance and let her humiliate herself in front of everyone. But, since she wouldn’t risk her perfect wedding that way, this was obviously the next best thing.

No wonder Eloise looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but there.

He moved towards her, reaching out a hand to pull her into his arms.

‘I apologise in advance for treading on your feet,’ she said, and he smiled.

‘You’ll be fine. I’m hardly a professional dancer either, you realise? I’m best known for smashing through walls and beating people up.’

‘That’s true.’ She looked rather pleased about that fact, strangely.

‘So you do know my films.’ He grinned, more pleased by the fact that she was looking a little more relaxed at last than by the acknowledgement of his fame.

Eloise rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, fine. Everybody knows Noah Cross. You’re on, like, every billboard and every bus.’

‘Not all of them.’

‘Most, then. All those big budget blockbusters you’re always starring in.’ She frowned. ‘But you didn’t always do those, did you? Didn’t I read somewhere that you used to be on the stage?’

This time, Noah was surprised. ‘Yes, actually. Not many people remember my touring actor days now, though. I did a three-year stint as a stage actor, touring in a company that took Shakespeare all over the States.’

‘Huh.’ She tilted her head to look at him. ‘I suppose I could buy you as Hamlet.’

‘Not Romeo?’ He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and Eloise laughed as the music started up again.

Melissa’s voice rang out around the room. ‘And dance!’

Of course, he hadn’t had time to actually talk Eloise through the steps, since they’d been busy discussing him, but she seemed to have picked up the basics from watching Melissa anyway. ‘You’re a quick study,’ he said as they spun.

‘My mum made me take dance lessons when I was younger,’ Eloise admitted, still looking down at her feet. ‘I did ballet, tap, modern, lyrical and even a couple of terms of ballroom. Apparently I haven’t quite forgotten everything.’

‘Then why were you nervous?’ Noah asked. She’d been terrified at the prospect of dancing; he’d seen it in her face. But why, if she already knew she could do it?

‘It’s not the dancing,’ Eloise admitted. But, before she could tell him exactly what the problem was, Melissa was striding across the floor towards them.

‘You’re doing it wrong,’ the bride said, grabbing Eloise’s arm and yanking her away from Noah.

‘I thought she had it, actually,’ Noah objected, but Melissa had already taken up her ballroom position.

‘No. I’ll show you again,’ she said to Eloise with exaggerated patience.

Noah raised his arms and met Eloise’s gaze over Melissa’s shoulder. She raised her eyes to the heavens, and he smiled.

Maybe he’d tread on Melissa’s toes while they danced. That might persuade her to give up on the lessons.

Or at least put Eloise back in his arms, which couldn’t be a bad thing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

MELISSA DRILLED THEM in their dance for far longer than Eloise thought was strictly necessary—she wasn’t that bad, she was sure. Eventually, though, Melissa had to let Eloise go, once she pointed out that if she didn’t there would be no one to check that everything was ready for the Frost Fair.

Noah took the opportunity to escape too, which Eloise was grateful for. It had felt too good, dancing in his arms. And the connection between them—even if it was born entirely out of mocking Melissa—seemed a little too easy. She wasn’t an idiot; she knew Noah was just playing with her. What she didn’t understand was why he was still bothering. She’d made her position on the subject of having flings with actors painfully clear the night before.

Maybe that was it—the challenge. She could see Noah as the kind of guy who grew tired of always getting everything he wanted handed to him on a plate. Some people were happy to carry on that way, enjoying the ease that sort of life gave them. But Noah... She got the impression he liked to work for things a little more. Hadn’t he said something last night about a new role in a film, something more challenging? Yes, that had to be it. She was a different sort of challenge; that was all. The moment she gave in, all the fun would be gone for him.

She had to remember that.

Dressed again in her navy work dress and chocolate leather boots, Eloise hurried down to the riverbank, her coat wrapped warmly around her. The preparations for the afternoon’s Frost Fair were well underway—which was just as well, as Laurel would be bringing the guests down from the hotel within the hour.

Wooden stalls were laid out all along the riverbank, a temporary street of tempting offerings to eat, drink or enjoy. The river that ran beside the hotel rarely froze and, even if it had, it would have been a health and safety impossibility to hold the fair actually on the ice, like people would have done at the Frost Fairs of old. But, with the rustic stalls, the lute music drifting through the icy air as the musicians warmed up and the smell of the hog roast cooking, it almost felt authentic.

Authentic enough for Hollywood, anyway, Eloise figured.

Pulling out her clipboard, she did the rounds, checking in with every stallholder, every caterer, every entertainer, from jugglers to ice carvers. Everything was looking good until she reached the small stage set up at the far end of the fair, ready for the acting troupe Laurel had hired to entertain the masses with excerpts from Shakespeare’s plays.

‘How’s it going?’ she asked a dour-looking man unloading period costumes and props onto a rack.

Hang on. No, he wasn’t unloading. He was taking the costumes off the rack and putting them back into the suitcase.

‘Not great,’ he said, reaching for another doublet. ‘The troupe minibus gave up the ghost halfway down the M4. The guy they sent out to fix it said it’s dead as a doornail. I’d come on ahead with the costumes and props, but I’m only the stage manager-slash-accompanist. You want period sound effects or music? I’m your man.’ He shook his head. ‘Not a lot of use without the actors, though. Figured I might as well pack up again.’

‘Wait. Don’t... Stop packing up. Please. Just stop it.’ The man held up his hands and stepped back as Eloise reached for her phone.

‘Your call, love, but I don’t see what good they’ll do you.’

‘I just need to make a phone call...’ Turning away, Eloise stabbed at her phone until it rang Laurel, holding it tight to her ear and praying that the wedding planner would have an idea.

Click. ‘You have reached the voicemail of Laurel Sommers, wedding planner.’

Of course, to be any help at all she’d have to actually pick up the phone. Eloise hung up and tried again.

After she got put through to voicemail for the fifth time, Eloise gave up.

‘Okay, look, we’ll sort this out,’ she said, turning back to the man with the props. Except now he wasn’t alone.

‘Alas, poor Yorick!’ Noah held a skull at arm’s length as he quoted the line from Hamlet, looking utterly in his element.

Hadn’t he said he’d been a Shakespearean actor once? Maybe he could be again...

Spotting her, Noah put down the skull and walked towards her. Eloise pasted on her brightest, most winning smile and hoped he still wanted to keep playing their little game. Because she needed a big favour.

* * *

The Frost Fair, Noah had to admit, was quite the set-up. It looked like something from some high fantasy epic movie, rather than a historical. Stallholders were wandering around in that pseudo-period costume that seemed to work for peasants of all eras, mostly in shades of brown and green with the odd berry-red hat for a spot of colour. The river rushed past beside the stalls, flowing over rocks and under bare trees. The spot must be beautiful in the summer, he realised. No wonder Melissa had wanted to come back here.

When he came across the stage, he couldn’t resist—especially when he saw the box of props waiting there, just asking to be used. It might be a cliché, but in his experience it was a rare actor who could resist a bit of Hamlet.

Then he saw Eloise, lowering her phone from her ear, her red hair the brightest thing in the whole fair. Even her sensible brown knee boots and knitted navy dress made him want to reach out and touch her.

And when she smiled...his heart contracted in his chest.

Then his eyes narrowed. That was not the smile of a woman planning a seduction. That was the smile of a woman who wanted something. Well, he wasn’t above giving—as long as he got something in return.

In all honesty, if it was Eloise asking, he’d probably do it for free. Just to see some more of that smile.

‘What do you need?’ he asked as she approached.

Her smile faltered for a moment, then came back stronger than ever. ‘The troupe of actors we’d hired to perform today can’t make it. Their minibus broke down about a hundred miles away.’

‘That’s a shame.’ Noah was pretty sure he could guess now what she wanted, but he was going to make her ask, all the same. Given how incapable of saying no to her he felt right now, it was only fair.