To Catch a Star (21 page)

Then Christian took to the narrow stage before the screen amid loud applause, and the fantasy was a weak shadow to the reality of him.

He looked into the auditorium, no doubt unable to see a thing past the bright lights, yet he still managed to make it seem as though he was looking at each and every one of them.

At her.

“The proceeds from tonight’s premiere go to an organisation close to my heart. A charity that does great work keeping troubled kids off the streets and out of trouble. I’d like to thank the organisers, the volunteers and all of you for supporting such a life-changing project.” He handed the oversized fake cheque to the charity’s organisers.

Tessa clapped along with the rest of the audience.

Christian waited until a hush descended again. “When I first came to the States from the Caribbean… ” Her heart began to thud erratically against her rib cage. “I was a messed-up kid with a chip on my shoulder. I could have done with an organisation like this one.” Nervous laughter scattered through the crowd. This wasn’t in the whitewashed version of himself he presented to the world.

Beside her, Dominic muttered an oath. He sounded as surprised as she felt.

But Christian wasn’t done yet. “Working in the movies gave me the chance not only to rise above that, but to have fun along the way. Making this movie was huge fun. More fun than that little boy from Los Pajaros could have imagined. And probably more fun than I deserved. I’d like to pay it forward by matching the amount on that cheque.”

Christian pulled another cheque from his pocket. Not a dummy cheque made for the cameras, but a real one. He handed it to the stunned charity organiser.

Into the charged silence, applause began, growing wilder, followed by cat calls and wolf whistles. Up on the stage, Christian’s face relaxed into a smile. A real smile. Not the cheeky one he used as a shield, but a smile of genuine pleasure.

Tessa’s heart swelled with pride. She’d never expected him to really do it, but he had. He’d stepped out from behind the mask, bared himself, and they still loved him.

Even though none but she and Dominic knew just how momentous this revelation was for him. She pressed her eyes shut. He’d laid down the gauntlet. He’d stepped out of his comfort zone. Could she?

At last, the applause died and the auditorium emptied.

“What happens now?” she asked Dominic as he led her upstairs to a reception room lined with red-velvet drapes and dominated by an ornate gilded ceiling. He still seemed a little shell-shocked.

“There’ll be a cocktail party with an open bar.” He rubbed his hands gleefully together, his usual animation reasserting itself. “And where there are free cocktails, there will be easy women.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever get bored of the whoring?”

“Never! Let me get you a drink.”

“I really hope some woman brings you to your knees one day.”

“It’ll take more than one.” He laughed and left her to elbow his way through the crowd to the bar.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” a smooth voice asked in her ear. She spun around, skin hot, palms clammy, head light.

“It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was quite good for a gladiator movie.
You
were good.” She swallowed, unable to meet Christian’s gaze. “Especially afterwards.”

He smiled, a wicked curl of his lips. She couldn’t drag her gaze from his mouth as she remembered the feel of those lips on hers.

“I remember someone telling me that when you’ve seen one of these action movies, you’ve seen them all.”

She flushed. “I was very rude the night we met. I hope by now you’ve learned that I’m not that intolerant and judgmental.”

“No, you’re not.” He curled an arm around her waist. She glanced around, but unbelievably, no one watched them. “You were upset that night, I think. By more than a couple of escaped convicts or a strange man jumping into your car.”

She looked away. She didn’t want to talk about it.

Even though he might be the one person who’d understand, he’d also be the one person who’d use her weakness against her to get what he wanted. Especially now that he’d done what she was too afraid to do – to simply be herself and admit what she wanted.

He leaned in close, his breath brushing her cheek. “Shall we get out of here?”

He should stay and court the guests who’d paid to meet him. A good assistant would remind him of that. But to hell with
should
and
shouldn’t
.

She nodded.

Tension pulled Tessa’s skin so taut she was surprised she didn’t give off sparks. They waited in fraught silence within the theatre doors as one of the organisers summoned their limo. Then they had to make the long walk back along the red carpet, attendants hovering either side, and Tessa was careful to keep a distance between them.

If Christian seemed less enthusiastic about greeting his fans than he had on arrival, no one noticed but Tessa. She waited impatiently in the car as he extricated himself from his admirers.

“Thank God that’s over!” He slid in beside her as yet another attendant slammed shut the door, sealing them inside. The roar of sound dropped instantly.

She handed him a bottle of water from the limo’s fridge and he gulped it down. “Thanks, I needed that!” He screwed the lid back on. “And thank you for coming tonight.” His voice was soft, curling around her heart and squeezing tight.

His hand brushed hers where it lay on the seat between them and she glanced towards the chauffeur. But this wasn’t Frank’s elegant sedan. This was a bona fide limo with a darkened glass partition, ensuring absolute privacy.

She turned her palm upward to meet his and he threaded his fingers through hers.

The city lights streaked past the darkened windows, a blur of colour and motion, and she felt giddy and light and reckless. She turned to him and he was watching her, his eyes no longer bright with mischief but dark and intense. And questioning.

Slowly she nodded.

And then she was in his lap, his arm around her, his mouth hot and unrelenting on hers, and she gave herself up to every emotion and every sensation she’d denied for so long.

His fingers tangled in her hair, destroying the careful disarray the hotel stylist had taken the better part of the day to create. And aside from a half second thought about what people would think when she walked into the hotel, she didn’t care.

Hiking up the long skirt of her evening gown, she straddled him. He tilted her head so he could better plunder her mouth, and she drowned in the taste of him, in the smooth sensual glide of his tongue and the playful nip of his teeth on her lower lip.

Between her thighs she felt his body’s reaction, the hard length of him pressing against her core. In spite of the layers of clothing separating them, her body responded. She ached for him, a pleasurable pain that started in her belly and radiated throughout her body, demanding release.

He moaned as she slid her hands down over his shoulders, over his hard, peaked nipples, to the buttons on the front of his shirt.

He stilled her hand and pulled away. “Not here,” he said. His breath came out ragged. He stroked surprisingly gentle fingers across her bruised lips. “Not like this.”

No shadowy basement car park for their return, though Tessa would have preferred it. The crowd of onlookers gathered outside the hotel had moved on, so the limousine edged into the hotel’s narrow, gated driveway.

She scrambled off Christian’s lap, straightening her dress and trying, in vain, to repair her hair.

“You look fine,” he reassured her with a quick grin that lit up his eyes. “Very sexy and very beddable, but fine.”

No words had ever made her feel more beautiful.

As they climbed out of the limo, Christian offered her his hand. And he didn’t let go. Hand in hand, they passed beneath the iron and glass Belle Époque portico and across the vast checkered floor to the lifts. She didn’t care who saw them. She was past caring about anything but that urge in her belly.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, nodding towards the bar, where music boomed.

“I would. But not in there.”

The lift pinged and he held the old-fashioned wooden door open for her to step in.

She didn’t argue when he pressed the button for his floor.

And she didn’t argue when he pulled her into his arms, his lips crushing hers in a kiss that spilled over into a frenzy of lips and hands.

He pressed the flat of his hand to the apex of her legs, and she rolled her hips forward, grinding against him, groaning as the lift jerked to a halt too soon. The doors slid open and Christian removed his hand as another couple entered the lift.

Tessa buried her head in Christian’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, holding her against him as he shielded her from view with his body.

A gentleman, though he’d probably deny it.

The doors opened again and they stepped out into the wide corridor, softly lit, as the lift swept away upwards to the residents-only rooftop bar.

He held her hand as they walked the long corridor to his suite. The royal suite.

At the door, he let go to unlock and hold it open for her, and she stepped inside.

A vast living room, in softly muted shades of gold and sunshine, with French doors to a balcony three times the size of her room’s overlooking the Parisian rooftops. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower rose over the city, illuminated against the night sky. No snow now. Just a clouded sky reflecting back the city lights.

But she wasn’t here for the view or the décor. She had only one purpose.

Though with the memory of his hand pressed against her, she could no longer remember quite what that purpose was: make love to Christian or get him out from under her skin?

Either way, this was only headed in one direction – towards the wrought-iron four-poster bed she could see through the panelled doors that stood wide to the bedroom.

He stripped off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Champagne – or have you had enough bubbly for one day?”

“In Paris, there can never be too much champagne.” In spite of all the champagne she’d already consumed this evening, or maybe because of it, the butterflies in her stomach seemed to be throwing a party.

Christian popped open the bottle of Perrier-Jouët chilling on ice, its Art Nouveau label reflecting the hotel’s house style. As he poured two glasses, she stripped off her coat and laid it across the back of a chair.

Christian held out a champagne flute to her. “This is the end of the road, then. Tomorrow we go our separate ways.”

She crossed the room and took the glass, letting her fingers linger against his on the delicate stem. She didn’t deny it.

“Here’s to stepping outside our comfort zones.” She raised her glass then took a long sip, draining nearly half the glass.

Now that she had made up her mind, she would face this with the same single-minded focus she faced every decision. She would see it through. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to need a little alcoholic help to do it.

Christian raised his glass to her. “To stepping out of comfort zones.”

She emptied her glass and set it down.

“So you’re calling off your wedding?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

“You are calling off the wedding?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Are you having qualms now because I have an engagement ring on my finger? It didn’t stop you from kissing me before.” Three times now, each more earth-shattering than the last.

He set down his virtually untouched glass beside her empty one, the light gone from his face and replaced by a storm cloud. “I’m not the bastard the world thinks I am. I thought you knew that, Tess. Of course I have a problem with seducing another man’s woman.”

Okay, this was not part of her plan.

He turned away, walked to the far wall and planted his fist against it, head down. So much emotion swirled around him that for a moment she wondered if he would hit the wall. But he didn’t, and when he spoke his voice sounded ragged. “I’m not made of steel. I want you so much I can’t behave like a gentleman with you looking at me like that. If you don’t want this to happen, then you need to leave now.”

The silence hummed.

She walked towards him and stroked a hand down his back. He jerked at the touch.

“Don’t,” he warned.

She swallowed. Asking for what she wanted was easily the most difficult thing she’d ever done. This was the closest she’d ever come to begging. “I want you to make love to me, Christian. Please.”

He pulled her into his arms, rough, frantic. She tilted her head and his mouth possessed hers. He pushed her up against the wall. Hands sliding to the shoulders of her gown, he hooked his finger beneath the delicate lace and peeled the dress away.

His lips grazed the tender skin at her throat, tracing a line down flesh she’d never known was so sensitive. She shuddered and leaned back her head, closing her eyes against the assault of sensation as the gown slid down her body to pool at her feet. His hands were everywhere, skimming over her skin, down her arms, cupping her bare breasts.

Her breasts ached, so tender, so sensitive, so hard. He flicked his thumb across her nipple and she arched into his touch, the simple rub and flick of his fingers doing crazy things to every part of her body.

Then his mouth was there, sucking, teasing. He held a nipple in his teeth, brushed his tongue across the tip, and she cried out.

“You’re so responsive.” His warm breath fanned her cool, wet skin. “A volcano…”

She felt like a volcano. Magnitude 8.9 at least. The pressure blown, the molten heat rushing through her, unstoppable and inescapable and so incredibly beautiful.

Christian sighed, reverent, and lifted his head to place light kisses across her collarbone. She shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

She shook her head. Anything but cold. She burned from the inside out.

Then he kissed her lips, his mouth warm and firm over hers, and lifted her up, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other supporting her bottom. Without breaking the kiss, he carried her through the door into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

She shouldn’t have been awed by his strength, by the solid, capable arms that carried her as if she weighed nothing. She’d seen him sword-fight and brawl for the camera. She’d seen his muscles up close and personal; even felt them wrapped around her before. Yet still, she felt awed.

And in the safe strength of those arms she felt no shame and no fear. She was naked but for the scrap of black lace panties that were all she’d been able to wear under the barely-there dress, yet she felt no urge to cover herself. No urge to turn out the lights to hide the wicked pink glow spreading across her skin like a rash, across her chest, up her neck.

Not just safe. He made her feel adored. No man had ever looked at her this way before, as if he’d discovered a treasure, as if she were priceless beyond measure.

He leaned over her and she caught the glint of silver beneath his collar where he’d torn off his tie and released the topmost button of his shirt. With shaking, hurried fingers she undid a few more buttons. And gasped.

Oh my God.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said with a quick grin.

But it was. She reached up and touched the ring that hung on a thin silver chain around his neck.

For a breathless moment she couldn’t speak. Then, “you haven’t worn this before.”

He looked down. “Not while I was in character and working, but tonight I’m just me, remember?”

Her fingers traced over the heavy signet ring, over the intricate detail of the antique silver roses encircling a lapis lazuli stone carved to resemble a dragon’s head.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “It looks old.”

It was. Hundreds of years old. And it was real.

“Where did you get it?” she asked. Her voice sounded thin and far away.

“I found it in my mother’s things after she died.” He frowned. “I never knew she had it. She never once showed it to me.”

There was a lot he didn’t know about his mother.

Christian shook his head and smiled with all the confidence of a man who knew his power over women. “I’m wounded that at a moment like this you’re more interested in a piece of old jewellery than in me.”

She smiled back. “Never!”

Well, not entirely true. The ring, added to her guesses, made a convincing conclusion.

But now wasn’t the time to celebrate that she had finally achieved the task her father had set her. This was the moment to celebrate her own awakening.

Her fingers still shaking, she undid every last button on his shirt, while his gaze burned into her, dark and intense.

She loved him like this, his passion and his single-minded focus. And she loved when he laughed and teased, so full of vitality that he could make everyone around him smile too. And she loved the contours of his body, the smooth, hard muscle and the wiry graceful way in which he moved.

She laid her mouth to his skin, tasted him, the salty sweet desire on his skin. She ran her hands over the planes of his stomach, over his waistband, down to the bulge in his trousers.

He grabbed her hand.

“If you want me to last long enough for this to be a pleasure for us both, I don’t suggest you go any further.”

She wanted to laugh, so filled was she with the intoxicating power of being able to bring a man like Christian to a place of such need. But she didn’t laugh. She pressed her lips to his, licked at the seams of his mouth, playing and experimenting and savouring.

He nudged her down onto her back as he kissed her. This time, when he leaned over her, the ring brushed her bare chest, cold against her heated skin.

His hands skimmed her feverish flesh, exploring her as she wanted to explore him. She closed her eyes and surrendered.

He knelt over her, legs on either side of her hips, and his kisses moved lower as he edged down the bed, tracing a line down her body towards the black lace panties. She writhed beneath him, her body already wet and needy.

He ran a finger along the lace edge and she moaned, unable to bear another moment without him
there
. He laughed soundlessly and dipped a finger beneath the lace, his touch so light she wanted to scream in frustration. Then his finger touched her clit, circled it, and she wanted to scream in a whole different way.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“Let it go for me,” he whispered, as his finger rubbed and teased. “Let me hear how much you’re enjoying this.”

She nodded and at that moment he slid a finger into her. She arched her back, pushing up into his hand, her entire body in contact with his, bare chest to bare chest. He stroked her with his fingers until she writhed and moaned and tears of pleasure pricked her eyes. And then he was gone.