Stand-In Star (3 page)

Bizarre when only cold emanated from her dangerously handsome host.

He crossed the room to ginormous floor-to-ceiling windows and drew the extravagant curtains shut. “I expect you’ll want a rest after your long flight.”

Her feelings toward him softened a smidgen at his caring thought. Would he go so far as to turn down the bed sheets as well? If he did, God only knew what kind of irrational images her crazy mind would concoct. It had to be jet-lag that was making her so attracted to this gruff and grumpy giant of a guy. She’d never suffered from such a heady lust upon meeting anyone before. “Yes, probably a good idea.”

He didn’t turn the bed covers down. He didn’t even acknowledge she’d spoken. He simply turned and strode from the room, closing the door sharply behind him.

Sighing, she turned around and flopped onto the enormous bed. She couldn’t ever recall sleeping in a king-size before. Especially not one with a chocolate-colored satin cover set. Holly stretched her hands wide, relishing the feel of the satin. Her mind was a hive of thoughts and she didn’t think sleep a likely scenario. Coming to L.A. had been both an adventure and something she dreaded. Adventure because travel was one of her favorite pastimes and she’d never been in this part of the U.S. before. Once upon a time, she’d planned on visiting Daisy here but her sister’s absolute disregard for the sanctity of marriage had put a quick stop to that idea.

Dread because of the reason she’d finally come and the knowledge she didn’t have any of the necessary know-how to hold her own amongst the glamour queens that would parade themselves at the Academy Awards. Stella had tried to convince her to choose an outfit in Australia—citing there were plenty of fabulous designers down under who’d kill to create a gown for Daisy McCartney’s sister—but Holly wanted to find something over here. Something she wouldn’t need to cart half way across the world and something she’d know would be suitable. Surely the boutiques in L.A. would know the kind of thing she was after.

But now the dress and what the heck she’d do in terms of hair and make-up and even the heavy emotions that weighed her down whenever she thought of Daisy…they all seemed less daunting than the idea of spending time under Nate Devlin’s expensive Bel Air roof.

Leaning over to take off her shoes, she yawned. It wasn’t until a knock sounded on the door a few hours later that she realized she’d actually slept. She sat up quickly, noted her ghastly reflection in the full-length mirror, cringed and ran her fingers through her bird’s nest hair before a voice spoke.

Her racing heart slowed the moment she realized it wasn’t Nate.

“Hello sweetie. It’s Ruby, Nate’s housekeeper. I’m almost off for the day but I thought you might be hungry.”

Holly swallowed. Not only was her mouth parched but her stomach longed for food. “Thanks,” she called. “Just give me one second.” Scrambling out of bed, she located her jeans, which she didn’t even remember taking off, and yanked them on. Dismissing her shoes, she peeled back the door and almost squealed with delight at the meal on the tray in Ruby’s arms.

Ruby laughed. “Shall you have it on the balcony?”

“Yes, please.” Holly stared down at the Caesar salad, fresh crusty bread and a dessert of yogurt and fruit, before crossing the room, yanking back the curtains and unlocking the glass doors.

Ruby followed and placed the tray on an ornate steel table.

“You’re not going to stay and eat with me?” Holly asked.

“Ah, no.” Ruby waved the suggestion away and blushed a little. “I need to get home to my man and feed him. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and all.”

“Of course.” Holly smiled, trying not to show her disappointment because Ruby seemed the chatty type and she was certain she’d be able to share a few things about the elusive Nate. Yet, Ruby’s glow and the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her partner warmed Holly’s insides. “Have you been with Mr. Ruby long?”

“Ooh, yes, years. We’re celebrating our thirtieth anniversary with a huge party next month.”

“That’s awesome. My parents had a big celebration for their thirtieth a few years back.”

“Ah, nothing I like better than hearing about a true romance.”

“Me neither.” And although this was true to an extent, deep inside Holly ached. She’d married Ian hoping for long-lasting marriage, babies and a happy ever after and yet now she’d been divorced longer than she’d been married. Not that that was difficult when emotionally you’d been married less than twenty-four hours.

“Well, my dear.” Ruby poured Holly what looked like fresh orange juice from a funky little pitcher. “I must be going but please enjoy and when you’ve finished just pop the tray in the kitchen.”

When Ruby left, Holly sat down on one wicker chair and stretched her legs out on the other. She scooped up a fork and the bowl of salad and admired the view as she ate. The late afternoon sun baked down on the pool below, making the water glisten appealingly. If she forgot about her circumstances, this could be paradise. She’d never be able to afford to stay in a place like this on her salary. A gourmet meal prepared by someone else, weather and a view to die for, no essays to mark, no jobs that needed her attention… She could while away the evening in any way she wanted.

And right now, the water below was begging for her to play in it.

She finished the salad, devoured the bread, savored Ruby’s homemade yogurt and then piled everything back onto the tray. Before going in search of the kitchen, she unpacked her clothes and located her faithful black one-piece. Stella had threatened to take her scissors to it when she’d watched Holly pack her suitcase but Holly calmed her by promising to buy a new bikini when she arrived. She hadn’t been out in public in a two piece in years and she certainly wouldn’t risk wearing one around someone like Nate.

Still, despite not wanting him to see her in a skimpy swim suit, she couldn’t help the debauchery of her own imagination as she undressed and slid into her sensible one-piece. She imagined Nate’s large, unquestionably skillful hands sliding up her body and cupping her where the material did. Heat flooded her secret spots as she pictured him finding her in the pool, ripping off his shirt, coming into the water and…

Good God!
She flopped back onto the bed, flushed at the thought and let out a scathing groan. How could she possibly be having such lustful thoughts about Daisy’s boyfriend of all people? Pulling herself together, she stood, found an orange and purple sarong in her suitcase, wrapped it round her body, slipped on a pair of flip-flops and vowed to eradicate all pathetic crush-like thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t fifteen for goodness sakes—she could control her hormones.

Although large, Nate’s home was easy to navigate. With lots of open spaces, each room flowed into the next with little need for doors. She guessed the kitchen would be on the ground floor but couldn’t resist a quick reconnaissance of the other levels. Aside from her room, the third floor had two other guest suites and a library that would give any university a run for its money.

On the second floor, her heart skipped a beat and she froze for a second knowing this was his floor. What time would he get home? Was he already back? Before she could stop herself, she’d pushed open the only door and was immediately hit with that scent of citrus and wood. While her nostrils inhaled the delicious aroma, her eyes feasted on his very manly space. A true token to Hollywood, his suite focused on a massive brown suede and leather bed, an enormous flat screen TV descending from the ceiling and two walls entirely made of spotless glass. She imagined the mesmerizing view at night.

Not that you’ll ever see it,
hissed a mocking voice inside her head.

Inhaling one last time, she stepped back, closed the door and fled down the stairs.

After scrubbing the dishes clean in a marble, deep wood and stainless steel kitchen that looked to be taken right from the pages of an interior design magazine, Holly ventured outside. Warm early evening air hit her face and she couldn’t help but smile.

Swimming laps after the long trip and emotionally exhausting events of the day was exactly what the doctor ordered. Dumping her towel on a chaise lounge, she took a deep breath before plunging into the water. She swam for about fifteen minutes and then turned over onto her back to float.

Her eyes had only been closed for a few moments when she registered a noise. She flipped into a standing position to see Nate towering on the edge of the pool. He still wore the clothes he’d had on earlier but the towel hanging round his neck told her he was planning a swim. Or had been until he’d laid eyes on her.

A scowl twisted his gorgeous lips and the eyes that met hers were narrow and accusing. Despite the warmth of the sun-heated water, goose bumps took residence on every inch of her skin.

“Hi.” She tried for a smile despite the fact her insides were shook up in a cocktail of
wow
and unease. When he didn’t reply, the feeling of unease intensified and she scrambled for the edge of the pool as if she’d been caught shoplifting condoms. She clambered out, trying for graceful but probably succeeding in totally undignified, and made a mad dash for her towel. Her cheeks burning, she wrapped the towel tightly around her tense body. “I was just going.”

As she stooped to pick up her flip-flops, he spoke. “Sorry. Stay. I’m just not used to seeing women in my pool.”

Nodding as if she totally understood, she refrained from raising her brow or cackling like a hyena. She’d bet her Ph.D there’d been plenty of women in his swimming pool. It wasn’t women he had a problem with. It was her.

Chapter Three

When Holly fled into the house, Nate kicked a chaise lounge and began unbuckling his jeans. He’d planned on being civil with her. He’d planned on having a quick swim to release the tension that had built up to trip-wire tightness over the day, then ask if she’d like to join him for a civilized dinner. During dinner he’d broach the subject of Daisy.

But he’d just screwed that up big time.

One step onto the pool deck and it had been as if someone had given his senses an adrenalin shot. One glance at Holly lying flat on her back like a mermaid catching the very last of the afternoon sun and he’d struggled to breathe. Had to be because all his bodily resources had flooded south making his jeans uncomfortably tight, which was ridiculous. He’d had plenty of women in his swimming pool. Hot women. And she was the first to make currents in a one-piece, almost prudish bathing suit.

He ripped off his shirt and glanced back at the house, up to her room. The curtains were firmly shut, but he’d best not risk swimming naked as was his usual custom. Leaving his boxers on, he dove into the pool.

As he churned through the water, he contemplated this strange turn of events. Holly had read his expression and staccato sentences as annoyance and, in a way, she was right. He was annoyed. Annoyed she’d taken for granted that because he’d offered her a room, she also had free rein of the rest of his facilities. But he was far more annoyed with himself. Annoyed that from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, something had shifted inside him and he’d been grappling with the dislike he was
supposed
to feel. Annoyed that his first thought when stumbling upon her in his pool was not that she shouldn’t be there, but rather that he wanted to be there beside her. Doing things he’d only normally contemplate doing with women he respected and liked.

After swimming, he showered in the changing rooms by the pool and changed into sweats. He trekked into the kitchen, still indecisive about whether or not to make Holly dinner. Whether or not to go upstairs and invite her down to have it out. Not that he planned on putting it that way.

Despite what she probably believed, he did have some tact.

But as well as a note from Ruby telling him dinner was in the microwave, he found a tray of clean silverware and dishes and realized his housekeeper had already fed his guest. The ball of tension in his chest tightened. Part of him wanted to wind back the clock and change history so he’d never gone to the airport at all. Another part willed him to go to her now and ask her exactly what her intentions were in coming, exactly what she wanted to achieve from suddenly acting all sister-like. Too late.

Another part…

His gaze shot to the intercom on the kitchen wall, which buzzed loudly indicating someone was at the entrance gate. He pushed down on the answer button. “Yes?”

“Cab for Ms. McCartney.”

Nate blinked. Where the hell did she think she was going at this time of the evening? He didn’t want to be involved but to some extent he already was, so if she wanted to go out, he’d damn well be the one to take her. No way was he having another life on his conscience.

“There’s been some mistake,” he said into the intercom. “No cab needed here.”

The driver swore and mumbled something about rich jerks but Nate lifted his finger off the button and didn’t hear the end of it. He was already on his way to the stairs.

In the entrance hall, he halted. There, lugging her suitcase down the final couple of steps, was Holly. Her laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a handbag on the other. Red glowed at her cheeks but he couldn’t tell if she’d been crying or was about to burst with rage. Her hair was still wet but she’d changed into jeans and now wore a light pink cardigan over the top of a fitted T-shirt.

Ignoring the jolt of lust that slammed into him at the sight of her, he blocked the stairs and folded his arms across his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

She spoke in a level tone, firm, polite but cold. “Please step out of my way. There’s a taxi waiting for me.”

“Not anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “The cab came. I told the driver we didn’t need it. He went away.”

“
We
didn’t need it?” She shoved the suitcase down, narrowly missing his toes and not showing any indication of remorse. Her hands snapped to her hips as he instinctively jumped back. “There is no
we,
Nate. Last time I checked I was a free agent. I stupidly accepted your offer of a room of my own free will and now I’m changing my mind. Of my own free will.”

“And where do you plan on going?”

“As amusing as you may find it,” she snapped, “I’ve called the hostel and am heading back there. Not that it’s any of your business but I’d rather be rooming with ten jovial backpackers than tip-toeing around in paradise with a two-faced traitor.”

“Whoa.” Holding up his hands, he stepped back at her harsh words. “If this is about the pool incident, I apologized.”

“Hah,” she snorted. “Your sorry was more of a grunt. But as it happens, your blunt and totally inhospitable treatment of me since I arrived is only part of the issue. I’ve just seen myself on the nightly news.”

“Congratulations.” Surprisingly, she didn’t look all that pleased about the fact. He was having immense difficulty following the direction of the conversation.

“Congratulations? Is that all you have to say?”

“What exactly do you want me to say?”

“Well, the truth would be a nice start.” She stepped down and—his reflexes a little bamboozled—managed to yank her suitcase past him. “But since you’ve been lying since the airport, I’m not expecting nice.”

Right, that was it. He’d had enough of being yelled at by a lunatic female in his own house. Before she could reach the front door, he turned and clamped his hand around her arm. “I’m not the one living a lie.”

“Get. Your hands. Off me.”

“With pleasure,” he lied, letting her go as if she were yesterday’s news. His body might revel in her touch but his head knew better.

Yet, instead of trying to leave, she sighed deeply and said, “Do you want a specific photo? Is that it?”

His head hurt from trying to understand. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Are you or are you not Nate Devlin, Paparazzi Prince?”

Realization hit him, followed by the usual shot of self-defense. He might not be proud of every picture he’d taken but at least he’d done it for the right reasons. No one could knock a kid for wanting to rise above his despicable home life situation, for wanting to look after his mom and sisters after everything life had thrown at them. “Yes. I am. Although I haven’t taken a photo for that purpose in almost five years.”

“But what? I was easy prey? Too tempting?” She rolled her eyes in a manner that said she’d rather be picking maggots out of her dinner. “That’s one thing Daisy was right about. I am
so
naive. Did you even know her?”

His breathing accelerated as he tried to control his feelings. If she were a man, he might strike out, use his fists to show her exactly what he thought of her double standards. But despite the example he’d had as a child, he’d never raised his fists to a woman and he never would. “That’s a bit rich coming from you.”

She recoiled as if he’d actually laid a punch, but quickly recovered, schooling her facial features into an emotion-free expression. “We’re not talking about me. I’ve never asked or expected anything from you, but you practically kidnapped me from the airport, and if not because you secretly want to take a photo and make thousands, I’m wondering why.”

Nate swallowed. He’d never shied from confrontation but now that she’d given him the perfect opening to the conversation he desperately wanted to have, something was holding him back. Whenever she was near, he felt strangely off kilter. It wasn’t only the anger he felt toward her at her despicable treatment of Daisy, it was a physical response far more primal than that. Whenever she was near all he could think about was the fact he was a red-blooded American male and she was the finest specimen of female he’d ever laid eyes on.

A fact he had to get out of his head. Now.

He shifted on the spot, uncomfortable with the acknowledgement he was about to make because it went against every cell of sense in his body. “It’s simple. I know what those photographers can be like.” He shrugged. “Rifts aside, you’re Daisy’s sister and she’d want me to protect you.”

* * *

No, Holly didn’t buy it. Although the innately female part of her heart swelled at the thought of this big, strapping, handsome guy playing Tarzan to her Jane, he wasn’t giving her the whole story. She could a) barge right past him and chance her luck at calling another taxi or b) she could stand her ground and make him talk. Find out what crazy game he was playing before she made any more rash decisions.

She glanced at her watch then back to him. Her heart wobbled at the sight of his dark, intense eyes and the slight stubble at his strong jaw line. It would be so easy to be attracted to him. If he wasn’t such an arrogant pig and she hadn’t just learned he’d made his wealth stealing images other people hadn’t wanted to give.

“Protect me, hey? I thought chivalry was dead but it’s a nice notion.”

He shrugged, his lips ever so slightly twisted upwards at the edges. “I can be nice.”

“Not.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t believe it. At least not in this case. You’re a man with an ulterior motive if ever I’ve seen one.”

“Right.” He spoke slowly as if she’d just escaped a mental asylum, nodded and crossed his arms. He was defensive. Interesting.

“Yes, so you can tell me that motive and we can go from there or you can keep up this line of noble protection and I can leave. The choice is yours.”

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Damn, Holly, you make my head hurt.”

And his voice had the power to melt her bones. She crossed her arms to show she wasn’t about to back down. “Trust me, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Fine, we’ll talk.” He stepped back out of her personal space. “But not in the hallway. Come into the kitchen and I’ll get you a drink.”

She consented to the drink, despite a small voice inside her saying she should stand her ground and have it out with him right here. But her legs couldn’t handle standing much longer and truth be told, she wasn’t sure if it was the effect of jet lag or the effect of Nate. She pushed that thought aside, left her suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and followed him into the kitchen.

Nate pulled two glass tumblers from a cupboard. “Juice, water, coffee?”

For some reason, when he said “drink” she’d been thinking something alcoholic. Lord knew she could do with something stronger to calm her nerves but that probably wasn’t the best idea anyway. Alcohol had a tendency to numb her senses faster than it did most people and, around Nate, she needed full use of her faculties. “I’ll have a glass of water.”

“Sparkling or tap?”

“Sparkling, please.”

He took an expensive looking bottle of sparkling mineral water from the fridge to fill her glass and then filled his from the tap. “Take a seat.”

She perched herself on one of the high bar stools at the island counter. Nate stood on the other side like a warrior standing his ground, making a point of not taking the stool opposite her. They stared at each other for a long moment as if two opponents ready to launch into a dual. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but it wasn’t fear. It was excitement.

Never before had she been so hopelessly attracted to someone who treated her like a scrap of carpet they walked on.

It was ironic. There had to be someone up in the heavens laughing at her. Since her belittling break-up with Ian, her body had refrained from making a fuss about any man. Stella lamented about Holly’s absolute lack of a sex life but Holly barely gave a moment’s thought to it. Okay, maybe a small moment. But she didn’t know if she’d ever feel anything for another man ever again and quite frankly, that was probably a good thing. No feeling, no room for humiliation and pain.

That thought spurred her on to break the awkward silence. “So? Tell me, Nate Devlin, how did you know I’d be at the airport?”

He took a long sip of his water, placed the glass on the marble countertop and then rubbed his jaw line before responding. “I still have contacts in the uh…media.”

Her professional self longed to ask him questions about his time in the dog-eat-dog world of the paparazzi. She’d learned to dislike the profession long ago, when random crazies tried to take photos of Daisy whenever they went out as a family. At five, Holly had always wondered why they wanted photos of her older sister—who’d debuted in an Aussie film at ten years old—but didn’t push and shove to take a shot of Holly. It was these sharks that’d first made her realize her sister had something she did not. But looking past that, his previous profession fascinated her. How anyone could justify invading another person’s privacy like that was beyond her.

Still, just because he had contacts didn’t explain why he’d decided to use them. “I still don’t understand. You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me, so why did you come? And most importantly, why did you offer me a place to stay?”

He had the good sense to look uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Daisy was a…” The tell tale pause as he decided how to define her sister told Holly all she needed to know. The slight blush at Nate’s cheeks confirmed it. So much so that when he said, “good friend,” she raised her eyebrows.

“When I heard you were coming to the Awards on her behalf, I was surprised. Shocked.” He tossed her a reproving glare as if now was her time to confess but she wanted to hear exactly what he was accusing her of before she told him anything.
If
she told him anything.

She played the innocent. “And why is that?”

He raised a brow. “Why was I surprised?”

“Yes. After all, I am her sister.” She held her head high. Although he gave off the impression of distaste, she didn’t know what Daisy had actually told him. “And my parents don’t fly. Dad has a phobia and Mum won’t go anywhere without him.”