In the Heat of the Spotlight (10 page)

‘So if your mother was dragging you around in pursuit of her deadbeats, how did you actually become famous?’ Luke asked after they’d sat in a comfortable silence for a little while.

‘At a karaoke night at a bar in Kansas, if you can believe it,’ Aurelie answered.

‘You sang karaoke?’

‘We both did. It was a mother-daughter thing.’

‘Ah.’

‘What do you mean,
ah
?’ she asked, because he sounded as if she’d just said something significant.

‘Well, your mother isn’t famous, is she?’

‘No—’

‘I’ll bet she wasn’t pleased that her teenage daughter—how old were you, sixteen?’

‘Fifteen,’ Aurelie said softly. ‘It was a month before my sixteenth birthday.’

‘Young and gorgeous,’ Luke stated, ‘and about to be famous. And your mother wasn’t any of those things.’

Strange, she’d never thought of it that way. She’d never considered that her mother might have been jealous of her. Yet now, looking back on that fateful, life-altering night, she remembered how quiet her mother had been. Of course, Pete had done all the talking, made his promises, told Aurelie she was going to be a star. She swallowed, willing the memories away. It had begun right there, she knew, the destruction of herself. The building up of Aurelie.

‘It’s hard to remember, isn’t it,’ Luke said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

She shook her head, her throat tight. ‘In some ways it was the happiest—well, I felt the happiest then than I had in such a long time. But if I’d known, if anyone could have told me—’

‘Told you what?’

She swallowed. Here was the honesty that hurt. ‘That I’d lose my soul. That I’d sell it, because I didn’t even know what I was giving away.’

Luke frowned. ‘I suppose fame will do that to you.’

‘It wasn’t fame. It was—’ She stopped because she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t even know how. ‘It was awful,’ she finished quietly.

He was silent for a long moment. ‘“Never give your heart away,”’ he quoted her song softly. ‘Is that what happened, Aurelie? Someone broke your heart?’

She swallowed. ‘Yes.’

He nodded, sorrowfully understanding. ‘Three years is a long time. It must have hurt when it was over.’

She let out a sudden, hard laugh because Luke had completely the wrong idea and she didn’t want to have to correct him. ‘It felt like forever,’ she agreed after a moment. ‘But my heart didn’t break when it was over, Luke. It broke when it began.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

I
T
BROKE
when it began.

Aurelie had said the words with such flat finality, such aching sorrow, that Luke knew she meant them. He just didn’t know what they meant.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said quietly, but she shook her head.

‘I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to ruin this perfect day by bringing all that up. And it has been perfect, Luke. Everything.’ She gazed at him with those wide rain-washed eyes and Luke felt everything in him twist and yearn.

He’d wanted to kiss her so many times today. When she’d planted her hands on her hips and given him an impish look, when she’d tossed him a teasing glance, when he’d held her in the water and longed to pull her close, their wet limbs sliding over each other, twining around.

Hell, he’d been in a permanent state of arousal, it seemed, for half the day. Yet he’d kept his distance, and he would now, because this wasn’t about desire.

It was about trust.

He’d meant what he said about earning it. He’d let her down before, but he wouldn’t again. He had, despite his instinct which insisted there was so much more, taken her at face value. Aurelie the go-to-hell pop star. And he’d allowed her to seduce him, allowed himself to give in to his own need because the desire had been so strong. Only when he had seen the pain on her face, written on her heart, and known he’d shown her he was just like all the others, had he been able to stop. Yet he feared the damage had been done.

It broke when it began.

What did she mean? Had some bastard abused her? The sudden strong urge to kill such a man with his bare hands surprised him. Aurelie aroused all sorts of feelings in him, feelings he hadn’t had in a long time. He had, he saw now, been skimming through life, never going too deep, using work as an excuse because this—this emotion, this intensity—was frightening. Reminded him of how much you could lose, how much risk and pain was involved in any real relationship.

Not pain for him—he didn’t care about that—but pain for her. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he was so afraid that he might.

How did your parents die?

For a second, no more, he’d wanted to tell her the truth. Yet honesty only went so far, and that secret was buried so deep inside him he didn’t think he could let it out if he tried. He tried not to think about it, yet being with this woman brought his own secrets swimming upwards to the light, just like hers.

They were
both
being real.

‘It has been perfect,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s getting late and we’ve got a mile trek through the jungle as well as a ride in the Jeep and a plane to catch.’

‘Back to reality,’ Aurelie said, making a face, and Luke reached for her hand.

‘Maybe reality won’t be so bad,’ he said quietly. This new reality, with the two of them in it together.
One day at a time.
Yet what would tomorrow hold?

They walked back to the Jeep in companionable silence, the jungle lush and vibrant all around them. As they emerged into the sunlight a brilliant blue morpho butterfly fluttered close to Aurelie’s face and briefly alighted on her hair. She laughed aloud, and Luke smiled to see her joy. Then suddenly, impulsively perhaps, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his.

He stilled under that little kiss, felt a flare of heat inside, the instant arousal, yet something more. Something precious, because he knew that little kiss hadn’t been calculated. It had been an expression of her heart.

‘What was that for?’ he asked, and she shrugged, smiling.

‘Just because I wanted to.’ She paused, bit her lip. ‘Do you mind?’

Mind?
‘No,’ Luke said. ‘I don’t mind at all.’

‘Good.’

And that, he knew, was a very good start.

* * *

By the time they got on the plane Aurelie was feeling sleepy. She curled up in a corner of one of the leather sofas, and when Luke came and sat down right beside her it felt amazingly natural to rest her head on his shoulder. Luke curved his arm around her, drew her closer so her cheek rested against his chest, and with a kind of wonderful incredulity Aurelie realised that felt natural too. It felt right. She snuggled closer, and by the time the plane took off her eyes were drifting shut.

They got back to the hotel after dark, and Luke walked her all the way to the door of her suite. Aurelie turned to him, felt her heart throw itself against her ribs. Should she ask him to come in? Did she want him to? Part of her did, desperately, and another part still felt that old fear.

She took out her keycard, hesitated and turned to Luke. ‘Well.’ She swallowed, smiled. Sort of.

Luke smiled back and cupped her cheek. The feel of his warm palm against her skin was both reassuring and exciting. Yet even so Aurelie felt herself tensing. She wanted this, she did, and yet...

‘Goodnight, Aurelie.’ Luke dropped his hand and turned to walk back down the corridor. Aurelie stared at him in disbelief, a little disappointment.

‘You mean you aren’t...you aren’t going to kiss me?’

Luke glanced back, eyes glinting. ‘No.’

‘But—’

‘You didn’t want me to.’

‘I did,’ she said, but she knew she didn’t sound that convincing.

‘Maybe,’ Luke suggested quietly, ‘you didn’t know what you wanted. And until you do, completely, I’m not going to touch you.’

Aurelie stared at him, her mind spinning. ‘Why not?’

‘I think the better question is, why would I?’ She had no answer to that one. With one last smile Luke walked down the hallway and left her there, half-wishing he’d kissed her and half-glad he hadn’t.

* * *

The next morning dawned hot and bright and Aurelie lay in bed, her mind tumbling over the events of yesterday—
including Luke’s non-kiss—and then suddenly freezing on the realisation of what today was.

Today they travelled to Singapore, and she was giving another concert for the store opening tonight. Swallowing hard, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight. Somehow she didn’t think her fans in Singapore wanted to hear her new song any more than the ones in the Philippines had. Which left her...where?

She avoided the question as she got dressed and ate breakfast, meeting Luke down in the lobby at nine, as they’d agreed earlier. They were taking his private jet to Singapore, and from there going on to the Fullerton Bay Hotel on Marina Bay. They’d check in and go directly to Bryant’s.

By the time she’d boarded Luke’s jet Aurelie could no longer ignore the fluttering nerves that were threatening to take her over. She glanced at Luke sitting across from her, a sheaf of papers on his lap, his thumb and forefinger bracing his temple. He looked so serious and stern, and yet a lock of unruly dark hair had fallen across his forehead and Aurelie longed to brush it away, to savour its softness under her fingers. She’d been wanting to touch him more and more. Luke was awakening a desire in her she hadn’t thought she possessed, and all by
not
touching her.

Yet what would happen when he did?

He glanced up as if aware of her gaze, smiled ruefully. ‘You’re nervous.’

For a stunned second she thought he’d guessed the nature of her thoughts, then realised with some relief that he was talking about the concert. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘You’ll be fine.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘True.’ He stretched his legs in front of him and put the papers back in a leather case. ‘What did you do when you had all those big concerts? To warm up, I mean, and get rid of stage fright?’

Aurelie shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t really have stage fright.’

Luke arched an eyebrow. ‘Never? Not even when you played to ten thousand people in Madison Square Garden?’

She laughed, but the sound trembled. ‘No, because it was all an act. It wasn’t really me, and so I didn’t...I didn’t really care.’

‘And now it’s you, and you care,’ he finished softly, and she nodded, stared at her hands. Luke covered her hand with his own, twined his fingers through hers. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer false promises about how they’d all love her, and she was glad. Silence could be honest too.

Yet her nervousness came back as they landed in Singapore and took a limo to the hotel. Aurelie barely registered the sumptuous suite with its view of the bay from one balcony and the city skyline from the other. All she could think about was how in just a few hours she would walk onto that stage and bare her soul.

Why had she written the damn song, anyway? And why had she ever played it for Luke?

‘It doesn’t matter what they think, you know,’ Luke said. She turned and saw him standing in the doorway of her suite. ‘It doesn’t mean anything if they don’t like it.’

‘Doesn’t it?’

‘No. What matters is what you think of it. How you think of yourself.’

How she thought of herself? She couldn’t answer that one. Being herself still felt so new, so strange. She still wasn’t sure she even knew who she was.

‘We’d better get going,’ she said, and slipped past him out into the corridor.

Luke stayed with her as they toured the store, five floors on Orchard Road, and showed her the new café, the glittering beauty hall, the department for crafts and clothing all supplied by local artisans, clearly his brain child.

‘Don’t you have important people to see?’ she asked, half-joking, as he escorted her to the dressing room where she was to get ready. Already people were milling about the marble lobby, waiting for the official opening.

‘I’ll check in with a few people now, and come back before you go on.’

Aurelie swallowed. Luke had done a good job of distracting her with the tour, but the fear—the
terror
—was now coming back in full force.

‘Okay,’ she said, still trying for insouciance and failing miserably. He put his hands, strong and comforting, on her shoulders and smiled down at her.

‘Forget about the crowd,’ he said quietly. ‘Forget about me. Sing your song for yourself, Aurelie. You need that.’

Somehow, despite the tears now stinging her eyes, she dredged up a smile. ‘I knew this was pity,’ she joked, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

‘You can do it. I know you can.’

And then he was gone, and Aurelie sagged against the door, completely spent from that small encounter.

By the time Luke returned half an hour later she was ready—or at least as ready as she’d ever be. She wore a sundress this time, in a soft, cloud-coloured lavender, and cowboy boots. Her hair fell tousled to her shoulders, and she carried her guitar.

Luke smiled. ‘You look fantastic.’

She smiled back, wobbly and watery. ‘I feel like complete crap.’

‘You can do it,’ he said, and this time it wasn’t an encouragement, it was a statement. He believed in her. More, perhaps, than she believed in herself.

A few minutes later she was miked and ready to go, and then she was on. She heard the hiss of indrawn breath as she walked onstage. Another surprised, perhaps even outraged, audience. She sat on the stool, stared into the faceless crowd. Swallowed. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt, and she felt a blind panic overwhelm her like a fog. She couldn’t do this.

Then she felt Luke’s presence on the side of the stage, just a few feet away. Strange, impossible even, to feel someone when he didn’t move or speak, yet she did. He felt warm, and his warmth melted away the fog. She glanced sideways, saw his steady gaze, his smile. She took a breath. Blinked. And started to play.

Distantly she heard the rippled murmur of confusion as she began to play a song they didn’t recognise. Her song. But then the song took over and she knew it didn’t matter what anyone in the audience thought. Luke had been right; she wasn’t doing this for them. She wasn’t doing it just for herself, either.

She was doing it for him. Because he was the one person who had believed in her, more than she’d been able to believe in herself. Already he’d given her back her soul; he’d shown her how to reclaim it. She played the song for him, for her, for
them
.

And when it was over and the last note faded away, you could have heard a pin drop on the marble floor of the lobby. You could have heard the tiniest sigh, because no one did anything. No one clapped.

They didn’t, Aurelie knew numbly, know
what
to do with her. How to react.

Then, from the side of the stage, she heard the sound of someone clapping. Loudly.
Luke.
And the sound of his clapping was like the trigger to an avalanche, and suddenly everyone was clapping. Aurelie sat there, her guitar held loosely in one hand, blinking in the bright lights and smiling like crazy. And crying too, at least she was as she walked offstage and straight into Luke’s arms.

He enveloped her in a tight hug, his lips against her hair. ‘You did it. I knew you could.’

She tried to speak, but there was too much emotion lodged in a hot lump in her throat, too many tears in her eyes. So she did what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. She kissed him.

This wasn’t a tentative brush of her lips against his. She kissed him with all the passion and hope, the gratitude and joy that she felt. She dropped her guitar and wrapped her arms around him, and Luke took her kiss and made it his own, kissing her back with all he felt too.

It was, Aurelie thought dazedly, the most wonderful kiss.

The rest of the evening passed in a happy blur. Luke kept her by his side, introducing her to various officials and dignitaries, and for once in her life Aurelie didn’t feel like the pop star performing for another sceptical crowd. No, with Luke next to her, she simply felt like herself. A woman whose hand was being held by a handsome and amazing man.

She was, Aurelie thought distantly, halfway to falling in love with him. It didn’t seem possible after such a short time, and yet she felt the truth of it inside her, like a flame that had ignited to life. She never wanted it to go out.

And yet what
did
she want? The memory of that passionate kiss by the side of the stage had seared itself into her senses, but she still felt her insides jangle with nerves at the thought of what else could happen. What she wanted to happen...and yet was afraid of, both at the same time.