Plain Jane in the Spotlight (18 page)

For a while, lying on the bed, they were strangely still, silently asking each other questions, seeking answers, happy when they found them. Then the first movements, tentative, discovering each other, realising that all was well.

His touch was gentle, fingers drifting across her naked skin, pausing, exploring slowly as though ready to retreat, but never doing so. She was glad of that. If he had stopped now she would have been devastated. She tried to convey her feelings through her own fingertips, caressing him softly, letting him know that this was right, perfect. The moment when she became his was the sweetest of her life.

Afterwards there was peace, the joyous satisfaction of lying back with his head on her chest, both of them totally still. In a few moments she was asleep.

She awoke in the early hours to find Travis restless, moving here and there as though desperately seeking something. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep. He still slept, but even in the depths of sleep something was disturbing him.

She touched him gently and at once he grew still. After a moment he moved again, reaching out until his hands encountered her, touched her face, her eyes, her lips.

‘I’m here,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here beside you.’

Slowly she felt the tension drain from him. A long sigh came softly from his lips. He turned so that his head was resting on her shoulder, and after that he never moved again until they awoke together in the early morning.

He rested on his elbows to look down at her.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Everything’s fine with me. Did you have a good night’s sleep?’

‘I did in the end. I don’t know what happened. I was restless for a while. I wanted to wake up but I couldn’t make it happen. But then suddenly all the trouble vanished and everything was peaceful.’

‘Dreams can be like that,’ she whispered.

He stroked her face. ‘Was it just a dream? Charlene, I don’t know how to say this, but—’

‘Then don’t say it,’ she whispered, her finger over his lips. ‘Not now.’

He rose from the bed, divided by two conflicting desires, to be close to her, feeling her warmth and comfort enfold him again, and to be alone with his confused thoughts.

Which of them, he wondered, had led the other into the bedroom? He’d been the first to rise to his feet, take her hand and draw her after him. But he knew he would never have done so if he hadn’t felt her willingness, sensed that she was urging him to take action and would be disappointed if he didn’t.

So who had led who?

But there was another question, more urgent, more worrying.

Last night she had rescued him, as so often before. But who was the woman who had come into his bed? Charlene, the lover who had touched his heart? Or Charlie, the sister and protector who pandered to his needs like a nursemaid?

And if it was the second, might there not be a tiny hint of contempt in her kindness?

That thought made him shiver.

* * *

Over the next few days Charlene had the feeling that Travis had changed towards her. He never spoke of the passion they had shared, nor did his manner invite her to speak of it. He seemed uneasy in her company, as though he felt they’d come too close and was trying to step back. Several times he took her out to dinner, but always with other friends present. It was as though he didn’t want to be alone with her.

She waited, hoping that he would open his arms to her and take her again into his bed, where they could rediscover the tenderness that had been so special. Then she would know what it had really meant.

But she waited in vain. Travis seemed to have put their lovemaking behind them as completely as if it had never happened. Sometimes she would look up to find him regarding her with a strange questioning expression. But when he saw her glance he would immediately begin to talk about something unimportant.

With pain and dismay, she realised that he’d turned to her, not in love but in need. She could give him something he’d found nowhere else, but he wasn’t ready for the next step. Perhaps he never would be.

But she refused to give up hope yet. It would take time for them to find each other, but she would be patient. There was everything to gain.

A location shoot caused him to be away in Washington for several nights. His calls home were cheerful, but left her wondering if he was glad to be away from her. Perhaps she would know everything when she saw him again.

But when she met him and Joe at the airport there had been a development that briefly blotted out everything else.

‘I’ve had a call from Marcel,’ he said. ‘His wedding is next week.’

‘Next week?’

‘Yes, it’s got to be fitted in with some money-making project.’

‘How does the bride feel about that?’

Travis grinned. ‘I should have mentioned; it’s her money-making project. So next week we’re off to Paris.’

‘Can you get time off?’ she asked.

Travis looked over his shoulder to Joe, walking just behind them. ‘You said there’d be no problem, didn’t you?’

‘Sure thing,’ announced Joe. ‘Great PR stuff. You’re a Falcon among Falcons. Big names. Lots of spotlight. Go to Paris, have a great time and do your stuff, both of you.’

The next few days were hectic. Travis devoted himself to filming while Charlene went on a shopping binge, accompanied by Julia, whose advice was expert.

She remembered their first evening in Los Angeles, discussing Shakespeare and the time she’d played the role of Helena.

Another unwanted female,
she thought.
She spends most of the play trailing after her lover, begging him not to reject her. He comes back to her in the end, but only because someone has cast a magic spell on him. That’s not the same as the real thing. Strange how I always got that sort of part.

But was it really strange? she wondered. The plain one. The girl chosen as a last resort. The one with whom the hero would ‘make do’. That had been her on the stage, and was it now, perhaps, coming true in her life?

Travis might one day come to love her a little, but not as she loved him. If there was one thing certain in the universe, it was that. He might make do with her. Children, stability, the feeling of being wanted for himself and not for his fame. These things were what he yearned for, and to win them he could decide to do without romantic love.

One of Helena’s lines came back to her.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind.

Travis’s eyes must have told him that she was plain, despite his kind remarks about her figure. His mind had told him that she had qualities of sympathy and understanding that he needed. But could that substitute for love?

Her own love had looked not with eyes that could be distracted by his handsome appearance, but with a mind and heart that saw the man who concealed himself from others, yet reached out to her. There was no way she could not have loved him.

On the day of departure he did a final session at the studio and she went with him, to be ready as soon as he’d finished. While he worked, Joe took her to the canteen. The two of them got on well, and he missed no chance to express his admiration for the service she was doing the studio.

‘Thank heavens for you,’ he said now. ‘You’re going to help him get that film part. The only reason Alaric Lanley is in the running is because he’s better known. You help to keep Travis in the headlines, and that’s good.

‘This wedding is another chance. The Falcon dynasty, the great Amos—well, OK, maybe not great. People say he’s the biggest bastard in creation, so how did he father a lovely guy like Travis? When you meet him, sweet-talk him, OK? Try to get a picture of the three of you together.’

There was serious doubt whether Amos would be there, but Charlene judged it more tactful not to mention this and slipped hastily away to powder her nose.

Returning a few minutes later, she could see that Joe was on the phone and was about to retreat when she heard him say, ‘Look, Travis, why don’t you just marry the girl? All right, all right, no need to blast my ear off—yes, I know but—Travis, will you listen to me? Charlene’s good for you. I can see how well you get on and she’ll keep you safe—there’s no need to say that—I didn’t mean to offend you. We’ll say no more.’

Now she backed away hastily. She desperately needed to be alone to come to terms with the devastating conversation.

She hadn’t heard Travis’s end, but she didn’t need to. At the thought of marrying her he’d exploded. The mere idea of it offended him. Joe had spoken of safety and ‘getting on well’. He was promoting a convenient marriage, and clearly Travis wanted none of it.

How ridiculous her dreams appeared now! All the signs had been there when they’d swapped jokes about their unromantic friendship.

‘You’re safe with me,’ she’d said. ‘You’re not my type.’

He’d pretended to be insulted, but actually he was relieved.

Marry her? How he must be laughing at the thought!

When she was finally calm enough to return, she found the call finished and Joe cheerful.

‘Travis called to say work’s finished and we need to get over there fast. He’s all ready to go and the photographers are in place.’

‘Oh…yes,’ she said uneasily.

‘What’s the matter? Why do you suddenly look like that? Not getting cold feet, are you?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Too late for that. Travis needs you.’

‘I’m ready,’ she said at once.

She couldn’t back out now without explaining why, and there was no way she could reveal what she’d just learned.

So she became an actress again, smiling for the camera, smiling for Travis, embracing him, letting him usher her into the car, waving to the little crowd that had gathered.

‘I really need this!’ he exclaimed, squeezing her hand. ‘Time off in Paris, and you all to myself.’

‘You’re always with me,’ she said lightly. ‘You need to be with your family while you have the chance.’

‘The family, yes.’ His sudden beaming look touched her heart. ‘As many of them as we can get together. Maybe all of them, I don’t know—’

She gave a theatrically blissful sigh. ‘Oh, I’m looking forward to this trip. I’ve always wanted to see Paris. And look, I can go exploring on my own if you want to spend time with your brothers with no womenfolk around.’

He eyed her ironically. ‘Nice try, but I’m keeping my eye on you at all times.’

Charlene shook her head. ‘That’s one thing you don’t need to do and you know it. Now, wave at the crowd. They’re calling to you.’

As always, he did as required, performing perfectly, while wondering exactly what she’d meant by ‘and you know it’.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HE
flight from Los Angeles to Paris was thirteen hours. Charlene dozed as much as she could manage, sometimes awakening to find him holding her hand. After many hours had passed they found themselves over the Atlantic.

‘Is anything more boring than flying?’ she murmured.

‘Not much,’ he agreed. ‘You just end up staring at clouds that go on endlessly.’

‘At least we’ve got this to read,’ she said, taking out the brochure of La Couronne, the magnificent hotel that was the heart of Marcel Falcon’s empire, which was where they were to stay for the next few days. The gloriously coloured pictures showed a building that was several hundred years old, originally built as a palace, home of the nobility, whose portraits were also included.

‘They were executed in the Revolution,’ Travis said. ‘The house changed hands a few times until Marcel bought it and turned it into a hotel. Last year he bought up a London hotel with the idea of duplicating La Couronne as The Crown. That’s how he met Mrs Henshaw, who turned out to be Cassie, a girl he’d been in love with eight years ago.’

‘Eight years,’ she marvelled. ‘And they found each other again after so long?’

‘It’s incredible, isn’t it? But I guess if love is real it can overcome time.’

‘That’s not all it had to overcome,’ she reminded him. ‘His clumsy proposal—without asking her first.’

Travis grinned. ‘That’ll teach him not to take any notice of me.’

‘Anyway, they got it right in the end.’

‘So much so that Marcel has created a wedding chapel in the hotel, something he always refused to do before.’

‘What about your father? Will he be there?’

‘It isn’t settled. He’s not pleased about this wedding either. He wants one of us to marry Freya, his stepdaughter, but she actually helped Cassie raise the money to buy into the business.’

‘I thought you said she raised it modelling.’

‘Some of it, yes. But Freya topped it up with a loan of money that Amos had given her to provide a dowry. He hoped she’d use it to entice Marcel. Instead, she used it to see him married to someone else. According to Marcel, Amos is still seething.’

‘Did you never talk to him again after he called from the airport?’

‘No. I might as well not exist as far as he’s concerned. The last time I saw him was almost a year ago, in Monte Carlo, where he lives for tax reasons. He had a heart attack and we all went there to be with him, in case it was the last time.’

‘But he recovered, and you had the chance to talk to him.’

‘Yes,’ Travis said wryly. ‘The chief thing I remember is him grunting, “Don’t give up. You can still do better.”’

‘I suppose that’s a kind of encouragement.’

‘He didn’t want to encourage me. Quite the reverse. He wanted me to get a “serious job”. He’s not going to change now. I just hope he’s there and we can meet cordially.’

They started the descent. She looked down with fascination as Paris came into view below them. Whatever else happened, there were things about this trip that she was going to enjoy.

When they had reclaimed their bags Travis looked around. Suddenly his face lit up.

‘Marcel!’

There at the barrier a tall man in his thirties was waving eagerly. Beside him was a truly beautiful young woman, whom Charlene recognised as the glamour model in the magazine.

Their meeting was joyful. Marcel thumped his brother’s shoulders and was thumped in return before everyone calmed down for the introductions.